(I’d meant for this to be a low-key, personal post, but of course with the book out in twenty days, the excitement is building… there’s lots to post about.)
Kelly and I have been living in the current apartment for almost eleven years, which is about three years longer than I’ve lived anywhere in my entire life. I had something of a bounce-around childhood, and university was university–moving’s what you do. Then there were three places after the move to Vancouver: Chez Michel, Chez Frank, and the current Chez Dua.
So a couple years ago, around the time that we passed that longest-time-ever threshold, a bit of an itch developed. Some reflexive ‘isn’t it time to move?’ instinct scratches at the back of my consciousness. K’s got it too.
But moving’s not necessarily the right choice, so we’ve been trying to put a little effort into the house. Like Badger, I’ve been decluttering. I’ve sunk some cash into swoopy new gadgets that’ll do things like get us Netflix and let me use the TV in the living room as another computer monitor, if I please. We bought the footstool that is a (small, narrow) guest mattress, and allowed it to develop a healthy coat of cat hair. There’s a faint shadow of hope that the bathroom reno, which got stopped midway (I blame exhaustion brought on by the Parade of Death) might get wrapped up this year.
And windows! Yesterday, the stompy-boot guys who are putting new glass in all the suites in our building got started on installing new, non-moldy and allegedly noise-reducing windows in our place. To that there is only one thing you can say, and it is basically “Frabjous Day!”