Goodbye, Apartment

On Saturday, Dan and I packed up the apartment and, with the help of some awesome friends, made our way with a truck full of stuff over to Front Street. Things went pretty smoothly: our truck was there as promised (we have not always been so lucky), the actual move only took two and a half hours, and we finished up by 11:45, missing the hottest part of the day. As our stuff slowly disappeared bit by bit from the apartment, the cats appeared a little confused but seemed to take it in stride.

A relaxed Elsie dozes in the sun

Nessa hangs out in the cat bed

Hey. . . where did everything go?

I can't say that I was terribly sad to say goodbye to this place. We primarily chose it for the location, which was great, and it was clean and everything worked fine, but it did have some features that I bid an enthusiastic farewell to.

This terrible, purplish, multicolored industrial-grade carpet is definitely something I could have done without. I did what I could with an area rug, but it always bugged me.

This tiny, TINY kitchen. Dan and I couldn't really be in here together at the same time. See the black dishwasher to the right of the sink? When I opened it to load or unload, the door blocked things so that I couldn't get to the sink--or half of the cupboards--without standing on my tiptoes and reaching so much that I sometimes hurt my back. I will definitely NOT miss that.

Obviously, this sign is in need of some TLC, but I must say that I will not miss having an address that reads "314 Rear." Every time I spoke my address aloud and said "rear," it just didn't feel right. Because nobody wants to say, "Oh, I live in the rear." I'm just sayin'.

Ironically, after living in the Rear, we now live on Front Street. I'll consider that be a sign that, in true Jeffersons style, we are movin' on up.