For the sake of sweet Grace, and my knees and hips, I moved from my third floor walk-up to the burbs. The pooch can stretch and frolic, and my [gracefully] aging joints will carry me another day. This is my 24th move, and I am so over it!
As much as I loathe the packing, the physical labor, and the aftermath of moving, I love my new home! We now have more space, a first-floor master (read: I never have to move again), and more importantly, a yard in which Little Miss can run free.
Do I miss the old place? Youbetcha! [said in my best Yooper accent from a former life] My baby condo. How I adored that nest! It was just under 800 square feet, in a coded access building, and on the third floor. Not only was it cozy, but it felt safe. When my world fell apart a few years back, all I wanted was to go home. And home was that little cocoon. It felt like a warm, heavy quilt on a cold day. Like a glowing fireplace in an ice storm. Like my Dad putting his hand on my back and telling me everything would be okay. And it is.
I miss the security and coziness. It was a small space that fit me perfectly. It propelled me toward the minimalist lifestyle I coveted. I had awesome neighbors. It was quiet. It was steps away from the Greenway. Just minutes from work and from downtown. I thought it would be my forever home, and I had such fun making it me.
It was a wonderful home for 13 years (the longest I’ve lived anywhere), but then I adopted Grace–the reason I get up in the morning–and my world changed. I swore I would only move closer to downtown. I was sure I would never feel safe on ground level. I was emphatic that I not have a yard to maintain. Well look at me now. I moved further from work, further from downtown, and demanded a yard so my baby girl could roll in the grass. Ha! It turns out she is not fond of grass, but that’s for another post.
As sad as it was to say goodbye to the little place, Grace and I are embracing our new home. I didn’t lose my awesome neighbors; now I just call them friends. I’ve been giving the cottage
some a boat load of TLC and am getting her blog-ready. Not to worry–I’ve taken the before photos, and there will be plenty to share in the coming months.
But for now, a fond farewell to #307. May you forever enjoy the sound of music, the warmth of laughter, and the pitter-patter of paws within your walls. Well, not literally paws in the walls, but you know what I mean…