I love our neighborhood. We live on a quiet street tucked away between two alphabet streets and two numbered streets. (Washington DC is on a grid system, you know.) It is the type of place where one Saturday one of our neighbors, an older black gentleman, flew a home-made kite in the middle of the street. There's a school nearby, and one day I saw a gaggle of Filipina nannies (my tribe! my stereotype!) loudly chattering in Tagalog as they pushed strollers in an orderly row. I've noticed that there's a 2-3 block radius in any direction where people say hello. Beyond that, everyone's a stranger.
The neighborhood café is Ebenezer's Coffehouse. Yesterday we were the only customers without a laptop. It's a cute place, with comfy armchairs and a mysterious inaccessible second floor where one can glimpse walls lined with books.