Making it mine

My feet are filthy from the goodness of the day (just as they should be, at this delicious time of year). They are caked with summer…dirt from a walk along the canal with a friend, grains of sand from a post-run beach stroll. Marked by rigid lines where flip flop straps warded off the beating beams of Vitamin D.

(Golden Gardens. Gorgeous, non?)

Moving, no matter the distance, is hard. I’m knackered. Days on end of organizing and prepping and packing and moving and cleaning and unpacking and erranding and settling. I did the majority of this move solo, which is tiring in itself, and I am beyond grateful for a couple kind helper bees here (and a few cheerleaders from afar) who kept me afloat when I truly feared my energy tank was completely depleted.

Now that I am here, I. Love. It.
So far, so good. It is new and exciting and mine, all mine.

I am gradually learning the noises and quirks of my new home. How to jiggle the key in the lock just so. How to keep the shower door on-track when it goes astray. How I can turn down my own music because the beats of the live concert around the corner drift up and through my fourth-floor windows.

There is so much to explore, and I can’t wait. 🙂

Learning my…

new water spots:

new Bucket List neighborhood restos:

new “office” options:

new favorite ever food items (wild lox and herb cream cheese from Homegrown mmmmmm):

new neighbors, new kooky ‘hood festivities, new vibrancy, new energy, new potential for fun, for good, for positive change:

(Tonight I say a silent little “thank you” to all those many, many apartments that didn’t work out. Here’s to a new adventure and building a happy home–a haven for myself and a joyful space to share with others too. What are your tips for building a happy home?)


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