Our Lady in the Hood

A cool organic pizza maker lives (and bakes) around the corner.

Prius owners gutted and remodeled a bank-owned house into a Rockridge-worthy brown shingle masterpiece.

A nice literary couple settled into the house formerly owned by the baddest of the bad boys.

Artsy people are moving into the hood, so I'm pretty sure we're getting gentrified.

But the flava's still here.

After all, we're smack in the middle of the Fruitvale Gang Injunction area.

And for even better protection, we've got Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe patrolling the area.

On December 12, the Mexican neighbors across the street unfurled this velvet banner for Our Lady of Guadalupe's feast day. Red and green twinkle lights make her extra-fancy at night. Hope it never gets taken down.



My own beautiful virgen is on view at the top of the post. Ed, my dear friend who's no longer with us, got it long ago in L.A., and left it to me, along with a deluxe Cuisinart and a liking for long walks and twig tea. I'm not religious at all, but this picture's so gorgeous. I draped it in a string of red felt roses (birthday present last year) to mimic the miracle she's famous for.

Josefina, my next-door neighbor, keeps her large statue of Our Lady in a little cage, with ceramic siesta guards napping away (and of course, twinkle lights for extra magic).
My Puerto Rican neighbors next door don't care so much about La Virgen – but they do like frogs.
Around here, if you wanted to, you could dress up head to toe in La Virgen. And that tattoo's starting to look pretty good to me. Orale!