On Saturday we handed over the keys to our apartment, locking that door to K305 one last time. I have no attachment to those walls, I tell myself and yet I feel like we’ve just closed a chapter of our lives. It was the first place I came home to in this country and for Matt and I, it is where we became a sort of couple. Of course, the two of us spent today vacuuming the floors (him) and deep-cleaning the kitchen (me) in celebration of letting that place go. It felt bittersweet, but he keeps saying “good riddance” and I have no choice but to move on. Today the old fridge looked cleaner than I’ve ever seen it before. I wish I moved into a place with a kitchen that sparkly! Future renters, we made magical things in that space. As I walked through the house – sunlight pouring in – looking for places for the last batch of things we uprooted from the old flat, I thought to myself: “This kind of feels like home.”
The past 3 weeks have been a blur of shoving things into a car, rock camp and work time fun times that culminated into us sleeping in this gigantic new home (really?) for the first time only a week ago. One week. Nothing has a place, apart from our clothes. We still don’t know where we want things to go and we can’t make that decision anyway until we figure out what colour the walls should be. And you know what?! I don’t care. Surely we would like to change things a little bit and freshen it up but I’m most proud of us moving like champs. We worked together, did not kick each other in the shins and we realised the importance of good neighbours. As messy as the floors look right now, I feel very lucky.
I’m not sure if I understand this correctly, but I get the feelsies that home ownership is very important to Americans. It’s something that says “you’ve arrived and you’re all grown up so take a seat and pay these bills”. I choose to ignore these vibes. It’s a big deal but only because of the money we’ve put in (my parents helped us out a lot, something that rarely happens in America). One might assume we’re rich or we’ve been responsible enough to make this step that required so much from us financially. It’s none of the above. Quite simply, we just wanted to move. No we didn’t have more stuff. I do a great job of being a responsible consumer and a non-hoarder. We wanted to be able to decorate our walls and grill food over charcoal. We wanted space for the dogs to run and I couldn’t stop thinking of tiny vegetables growing up from the ground next spring. We grew up just a little to be able to take this step. But adulthood is a mystery. If I should hit 40 in 13 years (!!!) I would wonder about just one thing: Where all the time went.
On that note, I am welcoming myself to the reality that we have a house. It’s ours. It’s old. It needs love here and there and it’s open and ready for lots of people to come stay over! I want this to be a place of good memories and for me, that means family/friends. If you know me, consider this your invitation. I’ve been yearning for a way to sneak back into my blog with food that will always remind me of this summer of our lives. I think I found it today and I will save it for later in the week until I can find that silly camera cable which I swore I would stash away in a box labelled “camera stuff”. I promise I will look carefully. Again.
I must go now but I promise that there won’t be any more long breaks. Summer is almost over after all and I need to make at least 10 celebratory cakes and cake things. I’ll be here, settling down and getting right back up because houses are work…lots and lots of it.
Be right back.