Every morning, I wake up thinking 'I love my house.' My 'house' in question is actually a pretty, sun-filled bright apartment. I've lived here for just over a month now, and the sparkle, the allure has not faded. I've learned the joys of having someone else handle the repairs. I get to enjoy the near magical autumn color of the falling leaves without a thought to having to rake.
There are minor drawbacks. My kitchen is the size of a galley. No more than three very friendly people can be in it at a time. I have to learn to use an electric stove. The only other drawback is having to do laundry downstairs, and pay for it. But thus far, I have only once had to wait to use the washer. And think of all the exercise I'm getting going up and down the basement stairs....
But my living room is bigger, as is my bedroom. I've a closet that is remarkable. It holds my clothes, a few stored items, and is half filled with my crafts & overflow books (never enough bookcases!). And I have already met many neighbors as I take walks in the complex, or simply sit on my wooden deck, which we often call the porch. My sons treat it as a porch too...then often jump the rail, and knock on the window wall! Such energy. And Cat does it too...
And now I have a 3 minute commute to church (that includes walking out of the building, driving there, and walking into church!), and my drive to work is cut in half.
*sigh* I know I'm going on and on and on... but it is such a relief to be rid of so many of the worries that plagued my life before moving here. I thank God for arranging this move when He did, instead of next spring, as I had planned. And I thank all the friends who helped me move, and/or listened to me make lists, or simply stress.
I realized what this place feels like...it feels like living in a dorm at college was like. Friendly people, no repair worries, and church is close by.
I look forward to having friends over for tea soon!