Biddan Ridge is the name I gave to the house. There are many reason I felt compelled to name the house. All great houses have names, right? Not that this home is grand or historic like Monticello or Falling Waters, but relatively speaking my house fits the arc of my life. I grew up in a neighborhood called Cutler Ridge and it is forever affectionately called The Ridge. Cutler Ridge was a unique parcel of land in unincorporated Dade County, Florida that was bordered to the south by SW 212 Street, Galloway Road to the north, Biscayne Bay to the east and US1 to the west, and we grandfather in South Miami Heights, which was wesr of US1 and over the railroad tracks. It was a mixed neighborhood with white and blue collars, new immigrants, second generation immigrants, upper middle class minorities professionals with higher degrees but possibly not the social latitude to live farther north up US1 and lots of people relocated from New York and the northeast. And I don’t recall race being a deciding factor.

I bought my lot before Hawk’s Ridge became a bank owned subdivision. Like so many in the Great Recession, the original developers of this neighborhood speculated and lost. I got caught in the fiasco as the singular land owner. Essentially, my presence obstructed the bank from having full freedom to dump the liability. And this lot, Lot #5, was my first post marriage asset. It was the first thing I owned and it had massive significance. Being upside down simply made getting the house built a near impossibility. But I got it built.

Like I have said many times over on my original blog [Realisa], I am a tenacious woman. Other people quit long before me. Lots of people watch me and think I am insane and delusional to keep trying. I kept trying and I kept praying. And that is the origin of the word Biddan. I prayed and petitioned and pleaded with God. Close to the end, I asked for the courage to quit trying and to let the dream go when it seemed beyond impossible. And then it paid off…all the insanity and all the prayers. And I have my dream home on a sweet 3.55 acres. I’ve planted a small orchard. I’ve planted myself. I have a home, my own little castle. I feel like a princess. And all castles have names, right?

 

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