This morning, I bid goodbye to my sunny apartment in Gardner, and in a weird and slightly unexpected turn of events, I’m going to miss it.
To be clear, it was not a nice apartment. It was barely insulated, the walls and floors were in bad condition, most of the rooms were a hideous brown. The neighbors came with their own batch of concerns.
However, the neighbors had good days, like when Don gave me his sunflower and the fat cat Addie became friends with. I loved, loved, loved my bright white living room. My walking loop had a lovely pond full of wildlife (like an otter). Best of all, I could have little Adeline there.
This was my reading area. Sometimes I would move the chairs out of the way so I could do yoga in the morning light. The chairs were both Craig’s List finds. I redid the stool myself after my grandfather gave it to me. The bookshelf, dog bed and such are all things I made.
My desk with it’s tangled mess of cords is where I created everything. I built the top with my brother, and triangle shelves next to it are something I designed and my dad helped me build. It was, by far, the most difficult project we’ve ever undertaken but I love my mountain shelves.
Side note: Martha Stewart paint is definitely the best coverage. I swear by it.
My favorite thing about the room is that just about everything is thrifted, a hand me down or handmade. The rug was a $4 find at a flea market, the couch was from Craig’s List, I made the pillows, the trunk was my grandfather’s when he was in the Navy, I made the light fixture, painted the deer skull and so on. Heck, even Addie is a little rescue creature.
This apartment came at a time when I really needed just a little bit of space to figure stuff out. I got that, but I also got Cinco de Mayo parties, nights of making flowers crowns on the floor with good people and lots and lots of memories that prove I will be okay. It showed me I can craft the life I want to live and that I have choices.