Knock knock. Who's there? Willo. Willo Whoooo? Willo, the darling neighborhood you stalk in your free time. You know driving up and down the neighborly streets, braking at bold red doors and gardened walkways? Sweet huz and I spent a drizzly Sunday afternoon in historic downtown Phoenix. Our umbrella as a canopy as we strolled down the palmed lined streets, basking in green lawned glory. The azaleas and bougainvillea were in full bloom, our hearts content. I was the map gatekeeper choosing the houses we would target first as Andrew devoured a giant bratwurst in one hand, balancing a bag of chips in the other before he could exude the energy needed to house "Visit".
This time, I was not on the outside looking in as I've been so many times before, but the in looking out. Much larger than they appear from the street, but just as charming. Full of original tiled character and restored hardwood humility. With the exception of the occasional creepy life size doll at the top of stairs and Hansel and Gretel figurines, the houses were lovely with a capital L. There is something to say about a neighborhood evolved out of the 20's and 30's that still holds true to it's original identity. Living in Phoenix surrounded by a sea of beige and fake adobe abodes, it's revitalizing to capture a glimpse that hasn't given way to the "stamped out" southwest version of row houses.
Excuse the trying to smile but not face, this truly is evidence of a day well spent. Sonora Brewhouse beckoned our tired bones after our walking feet gave way from the stone pavers and puddley streets. Homemade potato chips with spicy ketchup and ice cold brews provided the foundation for our retrospective conversation. We will find our way back again in 2010.
