Do you ever wonder about the history of your neighborhood, how it came to be? Most of the time, change is gradual, but this was not true of the unincorporated town of Kensington where I have lived for the past 12 years. Kensington, just a minute north of Berkeley, is filled with trees and feels like the country; most streets don't even have sidewalks. It has gorgeous Bay views from so many places including my house where on a clear day I can see past the Golden Gate.
The Earthquake of 1906 and the Berkeley fire of 1923 spurred growth, with displaced families fleeing their homes. Later on people built summer homes in the hills.
I bought my barely completed new spec home after it was rejected by my pregnant clients who thought it was too much of an adult house. Actually it has been a very friendly home for people of all ages, a place where I paint, friends and family visit and sit for hours over potluck dinners and conversations at my round dining table, yes round, I think that is the best kind of table for conversation. That is a little bit of my life in Kensington.
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