If I were a car, I’d definitely be sporting one of those Life is Good stickers. In three short months, living at
Park and Market has shifted my sense of space, place and time.
When I decided to stop commuting to North Hills, I didn’t know just how dusty a car could get from sitting still or that I would be late for appointments because I didn’t include time for going home to get my car. Then there was the day I brought the car to work and wrote myself a note so I wouldn’t forget to take it home.
Life IS good! Not just because it’s high-rise but because I’m living in the middle of
North Hills.
Convenience is half the story. Of course it’s convenient to have
a 24/7 Harris Teeter grocery store in your basement – really, an elevator ride to ground level but I like to tell my friends I am going to the basement for a gallon of milk. Or seeing
Zoes Kitchen outside my living room doors, and then deciding to call downstairs to order a hummus salad plate for dinner.
Maybe for you convenience would be the incredibly beautiful pool built on top of the grocery store, having a workout room on-site, a clubroom with tons of amenities, greenway paths close by, maybe too many good restaurants (when does walking start to cancel out the eating?) or a built in social calendar.
I still get a kick from making a Saturday list and having it turn out nothing like I planned because I got sidetracked at the
Farmers Market buying a painting, or stunning vegetables that beg to be cooked right then, or sitting down to lunch with a new friend at
Vivace and getting up 4 hours later with so much not yet said.
That’s really it, you know, not the conveniences but coming together with people I would never otherwise have met. I find the most interesting conversations happen when I stop to admire someone’s dog, wait for the elevator, or slip out into the early morning for a walk and find that many of my neighbors are already out there doing the same thing.
It’s the same sense of community I feel as I get to know people at
Starbucks where I stop in twice a day, at
Brothers Cleaners where everyone does know your name,
Ethan Allen where I bought my new bed, shops where I’ve bought summer clothes or gotten a makeover, and even the fellow at
Target who said his wife tells him what to do on the weekends, then laughed and pointed for there she was, waiting for his shift to end. Pretty soon it spills over and when I feel a tap on my shoulder at the market, it’s Fiquet Bailey, owner of
Luxe Apothecary, now a friend who tells me of her plans for the day.
So while it may be living high that brought me here, the lowdown is it’s the neighbors in the "hood” that make Park and Market home.
