normal heights

After evaluating border traffic on an average day, it was decided that until we get sentry passes we should keep a place in the states for early morning meetings, or late nights when the drive would be a hassle. Financially it was doable, if we got a little place together. We had each already given notice to our landlord in a frenzy of excitement over the Mexico house. And so . . . we have rented a little granny flat in the neighborhood of Normal Heights. [I think Granny flats are a regional phenomenon- for those east coast readers, these are like in-law apartments but separate little cottages tucked in the rear of a property.]

For a stand-alone house, albeit a one bedroom, with off street parking, within walking distance to yoga, wine bar, music venue, restaurants, etc, minutes from the freeway to work, it is a good deal. The interior is newly redone, and still smelling of paint with lots of kitchen space, and a private patio. It’s all pretty great, with the exception of the neighbors.

I realized the perils of renting a place when the ad states ‘section 8 okay.’ But we needed a place quick, and including all of the things above and they would take the dog, so we went for it. Next to us is another little cottage/granny flat. Legally, according to the landlord, there is one woman and her daughter living there. This place is as small as our house, and there are at least four people coming and going regularly at all hours.

One of the men has taken two parking spots with broke-down cars, which are currently filled with old clothes and pieces to various electronic toys, and also has another one and a half with his built-by-hand monster truck. Yesterday morning, while in the bathroom, he jumpstarted this thing. The light bulbs shook in their sockets. Eventually he got the engine running and called to the girl inside. She came out, and climbed into the back. They drove off while she stood holding the roll bar. I can only assume he was taking her to school.

Another man has some kind of bicycle fixing business happening after hours in the driveway. He is friendlier than anyone else who emerges from this house. At the moment he is helping fix a car engine in the alley.

Last night I missed a blowout between the couple in the front house. I was, at least, spared that.

In all, once the rotten cars are removed, and we adjust to our surroundings, it won’t be a bad place to sleep, while we wait until the next drive south to our hacienda.