What’s this I hear?

That’s right, it’s the rumble of our little dishwasher, automatically washing away the final remnants of dinner and breakfast, saving me and the husband the time and backache of hand-washing everything in a travel-size sink in a basement.

What else do I hear? The chirping of birds and the pitter-patter of rain dropping outside our open windows. And the occasional clunk of the vacuum against a baseboard as the cleaning people spruce up the hallway outside our door, keeping this place fresh from wall to wall.

What didn’t I hear? I didn’t hear our old landlady barreling down her uncarpeted stairs beginning at 6:45 this morning, apparently acting out the part of both wildebeest and pursuant pack of carnivores. And I didn’t hear her tearing around the kitchen talking baby talk to the cats and plunking their large ceramic bowls around the dining room. And all weekend we didn’t hear her put her phone on speaker phone and conduct personal conversations, both sides of which we were privy to thanks to speaker phone and conversation partners who shout into the phone as loud as the old landlady does. We also didn’t hear her running (yes, running) from one side of the uncarpeted house to the other and eventually out the door, with which she wrestles for many loud minutes because the handle is broken and one must open and shut the front door with a firm grasp on the deadbolt thingy.

Yes, yes, with the help of two fine friends and a U-Haul pickup truck, this weekend the husband, Dietrich and I moved into the condo with the green ceiling and haven’t looked back.

Ok we have to look back a little bit because there are a few things left at the old place that we need to pick up, and we still have to clean there, but we are sleeping, eating, and yes, watching TV (free! reception!) at the condo and we could not be happier. Last night the husband and I went grocery shopping and not only did we buy enough food for a week, but we bought milk in a gallon jug and we also bought ice cream. Two of them. Mostly because we could, and partly because I’m pregnant. Dear freezer, I love you.

This morning begins my second last week at the new old job, and I am working comfortably from our dining table with an internet connection we’ll be sharing with our new friendly neighbors for pennies a month. We met these neighbors, a young-but-older-than-us Christian couple who said they were praying for another young Christian couple to move in. Boom, here we are! When we got home from the grocery store last night, they had left on our doorstep a small vase of purple tulips and a note saying ‘welcome to the neighborhood!’ Thank you, we do feel welcome.

Today, in between press releases and newsletters, I’ll be looking for summer work, hanging a few things, and unpacking the clothes we have managed to bring over so far. As I said to the little sister this morning, I’m very tempted to call Goodwill and tell them they can have everything left in the basement but since many of my clothes are still there, it’s probably not prudent.

Then the shoebox cleaning will commence. The husband and I are neat people, and I enjoy cleaning and keeping things clean. So imagine our surprise and disgust when we moved furniture and found green mold along the baseboards, and piles of dead roly-polys in corners we assumed were clean like the rest of the visible shoebox. Dis.gus.ting.

But that was the old place and this is the new place. The paint we’ll be keeping is perfect, the paint we won’t be keeping also looks pretty dang good, and the bathroom is basically my dream bathroom (I’m easy to please), with subway tile half-way up, a high ceiling, a window that is shaded by a huge holly bush, and robin’s egg blue paint that covers the top half of the walls and the ceiling. A modest but sophisticated vanity and a mirrored medicine cabinet with a new light fixture above make it a wee water closet I don’t mind visiting in the middle of the night.

…the middle of the night which is now only disturbed by bathroom visits and not by the landlady’s cats chasing mice they snuck into the house to play with after midnight. Ahhh, bliss.


2 thoughts on “What’s this I hear?

  1. Glad to hear you’re happily ensconced in your new space! Enjoy it! Maybe you can add your landlady stories as exemplars in your etiquette book…When my husband and I were first married, we lived in one bedroom in a shared apartment with other tenants. There were several surreal moments during that time, like the occasion my husband found out that one of the other tenants was keeping a large, living, economy-sized bird of prey in his bedroom and in the living room…then there was the tenant who had an urge to destroy some confidential papers – but shredding was too easy..so he set fire to them – in the bathtub – the ensuing smoke set off the smoke detectors and gave all of us a bit of a scare…
    Ah, the bliss of your own space!

    Karin Maag

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