Unaffordable Housing

During the last couple of weeks I’ve been mostly stuck at home, seated by the front window, unable to go out. The suspense has been riveting.

Our neighbours across the street when we moved in were a couple in their 90’s, with a single daughter looking after them. We rarely saw them, except when the daughter escorted them into the car and off to a doctor’s appointment, or when an ambulance siren ended in the driveway. Occasionally the daughter shovelled the driveway or, even less occasionally, cut the grass. Then, in the fall of 2022, the parents died and the daughter moved out. The house became eerily quiet; there were no lights on and the tall grass was covered with snow.

Six months later things began to happen. Construction crews came into the scene. A dumpster was delivered and soon replaced by another and another. Garden tools, toilets, and outdoor furniture lined the boulevard. A rusty car was towed from the driveway. New windows were installed. The house was painted. We were delighted – new neighbours were on the way.

Then abruptly, everythig stopped. There were no moving vans, or “for sale” signs. The grass started growing again and the new windows began to get dusty. We speculated about what was going on. Had the owners run out of money to finish the inside? Were interest rates too high for a quick sale? Had the daughter fought with the other relatives and demanded a larger share of the profit?

Meanwhile the house beside us had undergone a similar transformation. The old house that had been next door when we moved in had been demolished and replaced by a huge modern behemoth. It was just beginning to look like a house when the construction crews disappeared. The siding was not finished. There was no garage. And the front yard was several meters high with weeds. Then, about 2 years ago, the new family moved in.

They were a lovely couple with 3 small children. They apologized for the look of their house, and promised to plant grass very soon. We waited and waited. They built a playhouse for the kids, but no sign of a garage. The tools, tires, wheelbarrow, and garbage cans all waited on the front patio. The weeds grew higher and higher. Was grass seed so expensive due to inflation? Was there no contractor who could build a simple garage in front of a house?

The unappealing view from our front window was: a deserted house across the street and an unfinished one beside us. We were embarrassed to invite visitors.

Two weeks ago things began to change. A strange car pulled into the driveway across the street and, in a few hours, a “for sale” sign appeared on the front lawn. We rushed to look it up on google and found out the price was 2.5 million! The next day I sauntered over to the Open House, trying to look like an interested buyer. Admit it, you would have done the same thing.

On my way back across the street to report to Peter, I met the owner of the unfinished house next door. He was headed on a similar mission. But he stopped to update me on his own house. He said that he was going to finish the garage in the upcoming week and then he would seed the front lawn. I was skeptical, but a few days later bull dozers and steel workers and electricians appeared. They broke up the concrete patio floor and lined the cavity down to the basement with steel beams. This was not your usual garage – it was a car elevator designed to transport expensive cars from the front of the house to the basement storage room.

Now, as I sit by the window, I find myself evaluating potential wealthy neighbours across the street, watching the construction of an elevator for classic cars next door, and wondering which of our friends we will invite to our exclusive neighbourhood.

Sue