For the next couple of months I'll be a resident of Hillsboro Village, which is nestled in an adorable zip code in Nashville.

The other day I had a *small town* type of experience. While chatting it up with one of my doctors he suddenly blurted, "Do you live in that yellow house?"

Gulp. I do.

I found his observation uncanny. Here I am in the middle of a sprawling metropolitan area, and Hillsboro Village has n-o-t-h-i-n-g but beautiful homes - seriously, the landscape of homes surrounding my residence is simply gorgeous... and my doctor blurted, "Do you live in that yellow house?"

As stunning as I found his question, it reaffirmed the small town feeling that Hillsboro Village clings to. It's truly a beautiful area, but is becoming overrun with the congestion of people and traffic. The Village is engulfed by several universities (Vanderbilt, Belmont, Lipscomb and more), which is fine and dandy, but the infrastructure is being mightily tested. Well, maybe I'm the one being mightily tested because I've chirped over so many curbs and probably need to have the tires of my ancient car realigned. (kind of joking here)

Anyway, below are some photos of my new neighborhood. Photobucket isn't cooperating this morning. It wouldn't let me resize the photos to cozier proportions. (I just received a fabulous update from Bex with the ingredients to resize my photos right here on JS. Thanks so much, Bex! Mission accomplished.)




It's amazing how many people I know are familiar with this store. Harris Teeter is considered high-end, but it can be because everything about it is divine - especially the produce and customer service. This particular Harris Teeter is 2-stories, which immediately defines it as unusual. This is the only photo I could find online. What isn't showing is the nutty parking lot in back. I appreciated Amanda's observations so much after I recounted my self-deprecating experiences of nudging my car in and out of here. It's worth it though. Harris Teeter is The Bomb.




This station is located in the hub of town and one of the busiest places. Yet, when I inquired about having one of my blinker lights replaced, I was treated like a seasoned resident with all privileges of kindness and welcoming customer service. I was told to just stop by. So I did. The station looked like a bumper car convention. Oye. Brent, the owner, checked my car and determined I'd have to return when one of the bays was available - that the light had to be changed with access from beneath.

After pulmonary rehab, I called and was told a bay was empty. I threw in a little bit of mountain talk and said, "I'm spittin' distance away. Hold it for me." They did and $7 later I had an operational blinker, which is a must in the kind of traffic I now maneuver.




I don't do drycleaning, but I like this mid-century sign. It really reflects the small town-ness of Hillsboro.





Last weekend Vishal celebrated his 29th birthday. He's also a resident at Hillsboro House. His mother lives in Florida and she flies here or he flies there once each month.

She's so stunningly beautiful - this photo doesn't begin to do her justice. I believe that from the moment she entered the house, she started to cook all of Vishal's favorite Indian dishes. The house was resplendent with the tantalizing aromas that are stirred with love. I became a bit wistful for my own children, but quickly recovered. How could one possibly be sad amidst such joy.

Vishal doesn't drink alcohol so he wanted to make it clear that he doesn't indulge with the beverage advertised on his t-shirt. He was surprised that I had no clue what is fashionable in beverages these days. I'm a Kentucky Bourbon gal.

Later!