Posted: 22 March 2009 in Charlottesville, House, joy, other folks

The house is finally bought.  The house we’ve talked about for more than a year (Let’s buy in DC – no, too expensive, too many crackhouses – let’s buy in Charlotteville – no, too expensive, we don’t know the neighborhood – prices are down – we’ll be here awhile, right? – let’s buy in Charlottesville (again) – that house is ghetto – so is that one and that one and that one – and seriously, do they have houses under 300 thou that aren’t brick? – why are the windows so high and, uh, prisony? – ooh, how about that one?  yes, that one!) is finally bought.

It’s in a great Charlottesville neighborhood packed with 50s ranch houses, bungalows and a mix of youngish UVA professionals and lived-here-since-it-was-built folks.  The old trees make up for the predominantly brick houses and the streets are quiet.  It’s close to school, so we can bike to work if we’re so inclined.  Sure, every last feature of the house is original to its 1956 birth date for better (gorgeous floors and windows) or worse (terrible pipes and closet space).  But the immediate neighbors seem nice and the yard makes up for every last interior issue. 

I’m not sure we can withstand the withering glares of the two houses over neighbors who were standing in the street yesterday aghast at the fence building.  There are fences in the neighborhood, but none on that side of things.  What’s more, the people that had lived in our house had lived there since it was built – probably the same length of time as the folks who were standing, gaping, at our fence.  I can hear them now:

“Well, Harold, you know Betty never would have put up such a thing.  She must be rolling in her grave right now!”

I’m looking forward to checking out the earth around the yard for a garden.  At least I won’t be digging up any of Betty’s bulbs – she was clearly a bit more low maintenance.  I like that in a woman.


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