When Paul had his first interview in Seattle, the company that was courting him put us up in a downtown hotel for a long weekend. We had visited Seattle before, but this was the first time that we’d done so with the thought that we might live here. As a result, we looked at the city differently. How might we transplant our lives to this place? In what neighborhood might we want to live? In Seattle, we could afford to buy a house — not one of the tiny, overpriced starter cottages in sketchy neighborhoods that we might have been able to afford in the Bay Area, but a nice house, in a nice neighborhood. We were giddy with excitement, and not a little fear.
That weekend, a musician friend from the Bay Area was playing a concert in Seattle. She offered us comp tickets, and gave us directions to the church where the concert was to be held. From downtown, we drove our rental car north past the Space Needle, then up the steep slope of Queen Anne Avenue. At the top of the hill, we turned, drove a couple of blocks, and parked on a quiet residential street. As we walked the few blocks to the church, admiring the neighborhood’s handsome 100-year-old houses, I said to Paul, “I think I could live around here.”
Two months later, we bought our house in Seattle — on the top of Queen Anne Hill, five blocks down the street from the church in which the concert was held.
Why did we choose this neighborhood, out of all the lovely neighborhoods in Seattle? For the same reason that we chose our house — the reason that I think many people have for choosing a new house or neighborhood. We fell in love with the life that we imagined we could have here. We loved the feel of a small town perched on a hill less than 3 miles from downtown. We looked at the neighborhood’s old houses, independent bookstore, hardware store, coffee shops, grocery stores, library, and parks — all within easy walking distance — and we could picture ourselves here.
The life that we’ve lived since moving to Seattle has been far different from the one we imagined. We’ve had to adjust our plans and dreams to accomodate unforeseen realities. Yet for all of the changes we’ve been through since moving here, our neighborhood still represents to me the life that I want to have.
To open the advent calendar window for Day 12, click here:
Our house, very early on the morning of January 9, 2005. We don’t get much snow in Seattle, but when we do, the accumulation is greater on top of our hill than most other places in the city proper.
I love that about our neighborhood, too.
For Holidailies
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
what a lovely house!
Oh, how lovely! I have been thinking about moving to Seattle myself … and your neighborhood sounds like it’s right up my alley. Wow!
Why are the pictures not showing up? I have to click “more” at the bottom of the posts to find them. I do love your photos.
So lovely. I have a first cousin that just moved to Seattle. Her family from Illinois is on their way to see her as I type. They are going by train to see the wonderful countryside between St. Louis and Seattle. I envy their trip.
What a lovely post. I know exactly the type of neighborhood you are talking about. We lived in one once.
Your recollection of relocating brings back powerful memories of the time when my wife and I were going through something similar prior to our move to London.
I’ve been in your neighborhood during my recent trips to Seattle (I cover Microsoft, so I attend a couple of their major events every year), and I can see why you’d want to live there. I’ve wondered the same thing as I’ve wandered the streets of this wonderful city. I’d move there in a heartbeat.
When we visited Seattle, as we were heading to Port Townsend to visit brother in law, we stayed in a lovely bed and breakfast in the Queen Anne neighborhood. We agreed if we lived in Seattle, we would like to live there, too.
Makes me long for the time when Sweetheart and I can choose a neighborhood for similar reason–not just because it’s the right distance from his girls and the right size. I love my house, but we are in a brand new subdivision, and the character is a bit lacking.
I love your house. I love my apartment, though it is not mine. When I sold my house and moved here, I was delighted to stop worrying about repairs, plumbers, and unexpected expenses, after ten years as a single-parent widow-the shedding of responsibilities was intoxicating. Now though, I am so attached, that the thought of moving is awful, and I worry about my lack of control. I should write about this place while it’s still mine, I think.
Waaaaaa!