Had Kate and Marton not rented their apartment across the hall, I doubt that Carol and I would ever have fully appreciated the neighborhood of Coolidge Corner. Let alone live here.
But discover this place they did, and we count ourselves as the beneficiaries of a carless life within walking distance of most of what we need.
Including Christmas presents.
Which brings me to this confessional of bargain hunting gone bad, a Christmas Eve tale that’s painful to tell but that, thanks to the spirit of the season, ended better than it began. Continue reading
I figured the chairs in our courtyard were beginning to catch on when I overheard an exchange between one of our neighbors, sitting in the blue chair, and Mateo, our two-and-a-half-year-old grandson.
“I no share that chair!” Mateo shouted from the second-floor window.
“Thank you so much for sharing!” the neighbor shouted back, apparently not grasping the intent of Mateo’s message. Which he kept repeating, with growing agitation, until Kate intervened and shouted down: “Mateo’s Mommy is happy to share that chair.”
Mateo really likes blue.
And it’s nice to see that our neighbors like not only the blue chair but the red one and the two green ones.
This all started, about a year ago, with the bench. Continue reading