(no subject)
This weekend was lovely. It was perfect in about nine ways. In many moments, everything was covered in a soft golden light. This weekend was the embodiment of contentment and hope for the future.
So as you may know, I’m moving to Madison this fall, with two of the best ladies around, Miss Shira Pittle and the inestimable Naomi Salmon. To that end we’ve been apartment shopping online for a week or so with RUTHLESS EFFICIENCY. I made some calls Friday and managed to last-minute schedule three showings.
Saturday morning was spent blissfully in the garden, teaching volunteers how to set fence posts and challenging two tiny girls from the neighborhood (Ce’rya and Sherajia) to out-do each other picking up trash, pulling out old plants, and raking leaves. The weather was lovely and the people were delightful - it was everything about being a VISTA that I absolutely love.
I loved it so much, in fact, that I was rather late leaving for the showings in the afternoon. I’m going to skip over the first two showings, except to say that they were very nice, and if circumstances had been different, I would have liked living there. Instead, I’m going to jump directly to the third showing - the perfect apartment.
Mike and I were already on the right road for the second showing. I was a little startled to notice that the third apartment was just up the hill, so we left my car in the parking lot of a church and made the short hike up Castle Place. There, on the corner of a little dead-end street, was The Perfect Apartment. The sun came out as we walked up the hill - no lie. As we waited on the porch, one of our neighbors (who looked distressingly like a childhood friend’s mother) came out of her beautiful house on the lake and greeted us with a cheery wave and a hello. Dennis, the landlord, came around the back to meet us. He was a tall man, about 55, and completely dear. He had a genuine way of speaking about the apartment (where he had once lived) that made it seem much more like a kind neighbor was showing us his house.
The floors are hardwood, and there is exposed wood everywhere. The walls are painted a warm white, but he lets us know that if we want to change the color he’d be happy to buy the paint so long as he doesn’t have to paint it himself. The first bedroom has gorgeous built-in bookshelves on either side of the door , inside and out. This room has lovely bay windows that look across the street to Giddings Park, which I had never heard of before the visit. The living room had three enchantingly asymmetrical windows framing a huge, squishy couch*. The living room had a wide entrance to the kitchen, which had lovely warm wood cabinets all the way up to the ceiling, as well as a new stove, refrigerator, and dish washer. There is plenty of storage space and cabinet space, and the kitchen is lit warming by the afternoon sun.
The second bedroom is painted a lovely shade of blue - somewhere between sky and cerulean. IT has a closet that goes back forever under the stairs to the second floor**. The windows look out on the neighbor’s beautifully landscaped back yard. Next to this room is what Dennis calls the Den - a room too small to be a bedroom, but big enough to be a studio or study. He tells a story about a girl who lived in Milwaukee and just came down for the weekends, and this room held her twin bed and not much else. A good guest room. I picture it as Naomi’s study for her grad work, or Shira’s knitting and reading room, or my own little studio.
The third bedroom is also lovely, with a huge floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall cabinet/chest of drawers. It was right next to the bathroom, which Dennis demonstrated had good water pressure, and despite the fact that the house was built in 1874, the water ran clear right from the start. But the house just kept going - in the very back is a tiny screened in porch. It was full of bikes and tables on their sides, but Dennis was planning a summer project to turn it into a lovely, if small, three season porch. He led us to the basement, where our free laundry lived, and showed us the huge room where we could store things if we wanted. He took us around the back and pointed out that the street parking was generally available (as it was a tiny dead-end road with only three houses on it), and mentioned that the parking spot in the driveway was available as well. If we wanted it exclusively, then he supposed he could rent it out for $10 a month or so.
While Mike chatted about applications, I darted across the street to check out the park. Oh my word. I was left quite literally breathless. You walk a narrow path through a couple of trees and you see a bench. The view from the bench looks down a steep hill to the lake, which that day was a misty blue and went on forever. It was staggeringly lovely. If it was this beautiful in April, when there were yet no leaves and the grass was still brown, how gorgeous must it be in full summer? And with all the trees, how perfect would it look in fall drapery?
It was stunning. And all of this for $1215 a month, with all utilities but electric covered. It was quiet, and charming, and beautiful. And it’s ours. We’re sending the first downpayment check today, and signing the lease early next week.
But my perfect day didn’t end there! Mike and I went back to his apartment, where we met up with Paul, Justin, and Kate Phelps. Everyone but Mike decided they needed some fresh air and to enjoy the first day of spring***, and walked down to James Madison park. The boys quickly left, but Kate I and stayed, legs dangling over the water, until the sun set.
The water was perfectly smooth, and reflected the clouds like a rorschach test. Behind us the grass was green, and it looked almost staged. Two men lay on the side of a hill, drinking a six pack and laughing. At the top of the hill a circle of seven friends shared a picnic. Three boys played Frisbee - one was wearing bright red five-finger shoes, which stood out against the grass like a compositional element from a painting. Families walked by, linked tightly together, and kissed just as we looked. Three beautiful girls, a blonde, a brunette, and a girl with stark black hair, in ragged chic clothing that comes either from being fashionably poor or outrageously rich, sat clustered on the edge of a bright red bench, their heeled legs all tangled up in each others, sharing cigarettes and a bright red lollipop. Four more boys kicked a soccer ball around, showing off for a pair of ladies standing by the side. Frisbees were lost to the lake, and heroically rescued by dogs and hippies who either didn’t remember or didn’t care that the lake was still ice-covered not a week ago.
We returned from the park as it grew dark, and joined the rest of the apartment on the second story porch of their house. My toes up on the railing, we sat back and laughed and shared stories. When we were finally tired enough to go back inside, we sat and watched a beautiful (and hilarious) documentary on China’s wildlife. Eventually, one by one, we sought our sleep.
It was, on at least seven levels, a perfect day.
*Alas, the couch will probably leave with the residents who own it. Ah well.
**Not our apartment - we have the whole first floor.
***Read: the first day over 50 degrees, with sun.
So as you may know, I’m moving to Madison this fall, with two of the best ladies around, Miss Shira Pittle and the inestimable Naomi Salmon. To that end we’ve been apartment shopping online for a week or so with RUTHLESS EFFICIENCY. I made some calls Friday and managed to last-minute schedule three showings.
Saturday morning was spent blissfully in the garden, teaching volunteers how to set fence posts and challenging two tiny girls from the neighborhood (Ce’rya and Sherajia) to out-do each other picking up trash, pulling out old plants, and raking leaves. The weather was lovely and the people were delightful - it was everything about being a VISTA that I absolutely love.
I loved it so much, in fact, that I was rather late leaving for the showings in the afternoon. I’m going to skip over the first two showings, except to say that they were very nice, and if circumstances had been different, I would have liked living there. Instead, I’m going to jump directly to the third showing - the perfect apartment.
Mike and I were already on the right road for the second showing. I was a little startled to notice that the third apartment was just up the hill, so we left my car in the parking lot of a church and made the short hike up Castle Place. There, on the corner of a little dead-end street, was The Perfect Apartment. The sun came out as we walked up the hill - no lie. As we waited on the porch, one of our neighbors (who looked distressingly like a childhood friend’s mother) came out of her beautiful house on the lake and greeted us with a cheery wave and a hello. Dennis, the landlord, came around the back to meet us. He was a tall man, about 55, and completely dear. He had a genuine way of speaking about the apartment (where he had once lived) that made it seem much more like a kind neighbor was showing us his house.
The floors are hardwood, and there is exposed wood everywhere. The walls are painted a warm white, but he lets us know that if we want to change the color he’d be happy to buy the paint so long as he doesn’t have to paint it himself. The first bedroom has gorgeous built-in bookshelves on either side of the door , inside and out. This room has lovely bay windows that look across the street to Giddings Park, which I had never heard of before the visit. The living room had three enchantingly asymmetrical windows framing a huge, squishy couch*. The living room had a wide entrance to the kitchen, which had lovely warm wood cabinets all the way up to the ceiling, as well as a new stove, refrigerator, and dish washer. There is plenty of storage space and cabinet space, and the kitchen is lit warming by the afternoon sun.
The second bedroom is painted a lovely shade of blue - somewhere between sky and cerulean. IT has a closet that goes back forever under the stairs to the second floor**. The windows look out on the neighbor’s beautifully landscaped back yard. Next to this room is what Dennis calls the Den - a room too small to be a bedroom, but big enough to be a studio or study. He tells a story about a girl who lived in Milwaukee and just came down for the weekends, and this room held her twin bed and not much else. A good guest room. I picture it as Naomi’s study for her grad work, or Shira’s knitting and reading room, or my own little studio.
The third bedroom is also lovely, with a huge floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall cabinet/chest of drawers. It was right next to the bathroom, which Dennis demonstrated had good water pressure, and despite the fact that the house was built in 1874, the water ran clear right from the start. But the house just kept going - in the very back is a tiny screened in porch. It was full of bikes and tables on their sides, but Dennis was planning a summer project to turn it into a lovely, if small, three season porch. He led us to the basement, where our free laundry lived, and showed us the huge room where we could store things if we wanted. He took us around the back and pointed out that the street parking was generally available (as it was a tiny dead-end road with only three houses on it), and mentioned that the parking spot in the driveway was available as well. If we wanted it exclusively, then he supposed he could rent it out for $10 a month or so.
While Mike chatted about applications, I darted across the street to check out the park. Oh my word. I was left quite literally breathless. You walk a narrow path through a couple of trees and you see a bench. The view from the bench looks down a steep hill to the lake, which that day was a misty blue and went on forever. It was staggeringly lovely. If it was this beautiful in April, when there were yet no leaves and the grass was still brown, how gorgeous must it be in full summer? And with all the trees, how perfect would it look in fall drapery?
It was stunning. And all of this for $1215 a month, with all utilities but electric covered. It was quiet, and charming, and beautiful. And it’s ours. We’re sending the first downpayment check today, and signing the lease early next week.
But my perfect day didn’t end there! Mike and I went back to his apartment, where we met up with Paul, Justin, and Kate Phelps. Everyone but Mike decided they needed some fresh air and to enjoy the first day of spring***, and walked down to James Madison park. The boys quickly left, but Kate I and stayed, legs dangling over the water, until the sun set.
The water was perfectly smooth, and reflected the clouds like a rorschach test. Behind us the grass was green, and it looked almost staged. Two men lay on the side of a hill, drinking a six pack and laughing. At the top of the hill a circle of seven friends shared a picnic. Three boys played Frisbee - one was wearing bright red five-finger shoes, which stood out against the grass like a compositional element from a painting. Families walked by, linked tightly together, and kissed just as we looked. Three beautiful girls, a blonde, a brunette, and a girl with stark black hair, in ragged chic clothing that comes either from being fashionably poor or outrageously rich, sat clustered on the edge of a bright red bench, their heeled legs all tangled up in each others, sharing cigarettes and a bright red lollipop. Four more boys kicked a soccer ball around, showing off for a pair of ladies standing by the side. Frisbees were lost to the lake, and heroically rescued by dogs and hippies who either didn’t remember or didn’t care that the lake was still ice-covered not a week ago.
We returned from the park as it grew dark, and joined the rest of the apartment on the second story porch of their house. My toes up on the railing, we sat back and laughed and shared stories. When we were finally tired enough to go back inside, we sat and watched a beautiful (and hilarious) documentary on China’s wildlife. Eventually, one by one, we sought our sleep.
It was, on at least seven levels, a perfect day.
*Alas, the couch will probably leave with the residents who own it. Ah well.
**Not our apartment - we have the whole first floor.
***Read: the first day over 50 degrees, with sun.