I really love my neighborhood.
I lived here in high school and college. My dad grew up in this neighborhood, so I've been coming here my whole life. My grandparents house is just a few streets away from where we now live, although they have been gone for several years now.
My husband had a friend who lived in this neighborhood, so he spent time here too growing up.
And we both have always thought it would be an ideal place to live and raise a family.
And it is. We have been blessed to buy a house here with my parents (they live in an attached granny flat) and my youngest was born just days after we moved in. Literally, like 4 days.
It's a pretty decent running neighborhood too. Last week I wound through all the streets I could and got 6 miles in. Any further, and I have some pretty big hills to tackle, which I do sometimes.
A few days ago I took a late afternoon run. My heart swelled because Lily was very insistent on coming with me, even though she could have stayed home with Bean and the other girls. Bean asked me pick something up from the store on my way home and Miss Rose also had a library book that needed to be renewed.
So out we headed, Lily content in the stroller. I ran one of my normal routes and changed it up at the end to stop by the library. Got the book renewed, and ran into my next door neighbor and his daughter at the library.
Went out and crossed the street to the grocery store, which is just 2 blocks from my house. While I was waiting to cross, my brother-in-law drove by and honked a hello... they live less than 2 miles away. Got my item at the grocery store and then we walked home.
I love that I can run in my neighborhood, with my double jogger.
I love that I can stop by the library and the grocery store on my way home.
I love that I run into my neighbor and see my brother in law.
I love my neighborhood.
I love running.