We go to settlement on our Letterly Street home in a few hours. Once it’s over, it’ll be the first time neither Helen nor I have rented or owned a property in the Philadelphia area since we met in 1996.
You were good to us, Letterly Street. Thanks for all the wonderful memories.
When Helen and I first settled in Port Fishington six years ago, we thought we’d made a bad decision. We’d moved from a vibrant, bustling street in Pennsport to a desolate block above York Street. We found lots of vacant houses and even less to eat. It wasn’t scary; the neighbors were friendly and welcoming. They planted the tree in front of our house for a few bucks and a case of beer! But we still felt like we’d left the place we loved for a place we could afford. That feeling of buyer’s remorse was hard to ignore.
Now that we’re getting ready to say goodbye to Philadelphia, we know we made the right choice moving here. This neighborhood flourished since we moved here, with fantastic new restaurants to go along with the music scene. We’ve been spoiled by having Greensgrow Farm around the corner. If you’d told me then that Stephen Starr would have not one, but two restaurants here, I would’ve laughed in your face. And then it happened. Heck, I introduced the #toomanygastropubs hashtag as a tongue-in-cheek complaint about our restaurant bounty.
We loved it so much, we started a family here. Charlie loves it, too! We’ve played countless games on the sidewalk in front of our house, saying hello to everyone who smiles at him as they pass. We made Memphis Taproom our living room away from home. We convinced our friends to move here, too! We’ve made great memories here. Port Fishington’s been good to us. We’re going to miss this place when we go.
What’s your favorite locally-roasted bean? I’ve tried three recently myself: old favorite La Colombe as well as new jacks Green Street and ReAnimator. Is it blasphemy to say I prefer La Colombe?
It may be my personal preference, but no matter how much coffee I brew, I just find that La Colombe has a better, rounder flavor than the others.
Am I missing something? Are their local beans that blow your socks off? Drop me a line in the comments.
Yesterday’s visit to the firehouse at 4th and Girard rekindled Charlie’s love of firefighting. He climbed on all the trucks, played with everything he was allowed to touch and he even sprayed me with a firehose.
Don’t believe it? Here’s proof:
Special thanks to Hipster Henry for organizing the outing. Was a great way for Charlie to share his remaining firefighter helmets from his birthday party. We had so much fun playing with friends on the trucks!
Here’s how I fought Hurricane Irene last weekend in Philadelphia, PA:
Drove wife and son to be with family in northern Va as they prepared to vacation in, gulp, Corolla, NC this week.
Watched news at mother-in-law’s house. Wondered if Outer Banks would still exist.
Drove home to Philly at 6 AM. Caught in traffic twice behind terrible accidents. Wondered if I’d be stuck in traffic for hours both times.
Upon arriving home, made perfunctory gestures at shoring up basement storage.
Ate hot dog lunch in a light rain at Memphis Taproom Beer Garden.
Ratcheted up panic by watching national and local news outlets.
Didn’t eat dinner. Drank a pitcher ofÂ daiquiris instead while watching Bourne Supremacy with friends.
Hid in bathroom, then basement during tornado watch.
Fell asleep around midnight.
Awoke to howling rain at 2:43 am.
Checked basement and ceilings. Found no leaks.
Tried falling asleep. Couldn’t.
Stayed awake until dawn when storm relented.
Walked over to friend’s house for coffee.
I still can’t believe that my house made it through relatively unscathed. Watching Twitter and Facebook I read a litany of things going wrong at friends’ homes throughout the region and I just couldn’t believe my house — which has leaked repeatedly — would be spared. (Here’s where I take a moment to praise Reiter Roofing, as well as Port Fishington’s relative high ground for a riverward community.)
I slept like the dead last night. I still feel completely exhausted. Helen and Charlie will be in the Outer Banks tomorrow morning. I can’t wait to join them on Friday.