The View From Down Here

Things are starting to get exciting (messy) around here. We've got one week until we move into our new apartment, at least we think we do. We still haven't been given our moving date yet but it should be Sunday at the earliest or Tuesday at the latest. We've got our friends lined up to help us move, our boxes ready to pack and some polyfiller to patch up the walls that we decimated with artwork and Ikea shelving.

I've been trying to take in the moment and enjoy the last week here. I've moved a lot in my life and find there's always something I miss about each of my childhood homes and adulthood apartments. There are a lot of things I won't miss about my first (and last) basement apartment - the cemetery outside my living room window for one. There's something ominous about starting your day with a view of a burial. As well as the crunchy brown nylon carpet with the cigarette burns & the way cigarette smells come through the vents, the creepy caretaker who hugs me when Randy isn't home, the mouse infestation that said creepy caretaker wouldn't do anything about. (Mr. Boots to the rescue.)

In some ways though the last four years have been pretty good. This was the very first apartment that I got by myself & was able to experience living on my own. I learned how to cook here, in my tiny kitchen with the avocado green appliances and floral counter top.

When it was warm out I would sit on the front steps and wait for Randy after school. I could see his smile when he saw me, waving, kissing me hello. He started his career, bought his first suit, learned how to tie a tie, got a haircut and sensible shoes. He grew up & I turned 30.

We completely share this 500 square foot space, with his art supplies & my sewing supplies taking up every square inch. Every night after supper we listen to music & work. When we finish we show each other what we made and then spend the rest of the evening being lazy. I love these nights. Sitting on the couch watching TV or reading with the lamp light and blankets, the cat sleeping between us. That's what I will think of when I'm an old lady and I remember this apartment. That and the funerals.