This blog is written by me, wife, mom, sister, writer, neighbourhood explorer and person-who-won’t-give-up-her-Cambridge parking permit for bigger closets.  After moving to Cambridge from Montreal almost 15 years ago, and to Walden Street/Hutchinson several years after that, when it was time to move again to find a bigger place after her two children were born my husband and I couldn’t bear to move more than several houses down.  The local real estate agents barely blink twice when local residents only give them a 5 block radius when it is time to find a new home.

This is home and nothing else quite comes close.  The cost of living here is a daughter who loves stinky cheese with a price that reflects its perfect ripeness and careful transportation from a small family farm in Normandy to Formaggio Kitchen.  A son whose “pets”  belong to neighbours or we just visit everyone’s dogs at Raining Cats and Dogs because his “country boy” dad doesn’t feel comfortable having pets in the city without a huge backyard.  A Tetris-like experience every time something goes in or out of the closet.

The reward is neighbours who know the streets, families and houses inside and out because they live in their mother’s and grandmother’s houses and tell great stories of the days way before there was a neighbourhood tag of “huron village”.  Then there are the families who come here for a year or two or settle in from all over the world who bring a vibrancy and richness to the area.


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