Peter, Not Joe (joeshlabotnik) wrote,
Peter, Not Joe
joeshlabotnik

In The Pink



Forest Hills, March 30, 2008 - This past weekend we took Violet for her first walk around the neighborhood. Well, I should say it was her first successful walk around the neighborhood: she didn't seem to much like the bumpy sidewalks the first time we tried a couple of weeks ago, so we abandoned that attempt after a block of crying.

(As an aside, I should mention that the sidewalks in our neighborhood are bumpy on purpose. They're paved with a pebbly finish, which looks pretty and presumably discourages rollerbladers and other wheeled hooligans.)

(Our back courtyard, however, is bumpy because it's probably not been redone in 80 years.)

This time, no such problems. Our neighbors and their new baby joined us (or rather, we joined them, as it was their idea), and we had a perfectly pleasant jaunt on a beautiful lamb-like end-of-March day (photos here). Not that either of the babies saw much of anything, Violet being asleep in her stroller and Lily being asleep in her baby carrier. But it got us out of the house.

And into other houses. I like going to open houses; in fact, we bought our current house that way - we were just randomly strolling around the neighborhood seven years ago and went into the open house on a whim. It was most likely the most expensive impulse buy we will ever make.

Anyway, even when I'm not in the market for a new house (and I'm not), I still like peeking around. This weekend, the four of us saw this lovely six-bedroom, six-bath mansion in move-in condition. Move-in condition is rare in our neighborhood, where many of the houses for sale have been lived in by their elderly owners for decades and haven't been renovated inside since they moved in. Way out of our price range, of course. Then again, our own house is evidently out of our price range at the moment, too: we also saw a townhouse slightly smaller than ours - four bedrooms set up very much like ours (one a bright pink, shown here), but narrower, with a tiny kitchenette, no garage, no attic, and a much farther walk from downtown and the subway - and they were asking more than twice what we paid for ours six-and-a-half years ago. I suddenly felt rich. We can sell our house now and use the huge profit to pay for Violet to go to Princeton. Yay!
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