Word from the lawyer is that the closing on my condo will take place Monday. Word from the mover is that he can get the guys here to haul my stuff to the new place Wednesday. In the meantime, here I go again, getting ready for a move.That's my apartment on the bottom floor, with the window on the street. It's in a neighborhood that is like being in another small town--friendly, full of color, history and character and a mood all its own. Hoboken, it seems, is many small towns in one.
There are people who are content to stay put, and people who move. I'm in the latter category. I lived in Manhattan for some 14 years twenty years ago and during that time I lived in five apartments. Then I lived in Geneva for six years--in the same apartment--and moved back and lived in Wilmington, (two apartments in three years) then back to New York for a couple of years (two apartments) and then I retired home to Alabama for 18 years during which I lived in six different abodes. There was a legitimate (in my mind) reason for each and every move, and I can remember loving almost every place I lived.
I keep saying, "This is the last home I'll have before Assisted Living," but I keep moving to the next one and saying that again. This time, I've bought a condo and I really mean it--but then I always really mean it. I know I love Hoboken, and feel sure that I can be comfortable in the new nabe. It's a few blocks from the house in which Hoboken's most famous son--I hesitate to say "favorite"--Frank Sinatra, was born. My apartment is just two doors away from a local hangout famous for clams, and the fragrance of frying food is never far away. Around the corner is a chocolate shop and a cozy little restaurant or two. I'm close to the Light Rail train and a nice brisk hike from the PATH trains to NYC. My friend Cristina lives just blocks away in a classy new high-rise. I'm on the ground floor and will have access to the back yard and will probably put some chairs out at the front gate where I can watch the passers-by. Maybe some lions, like over on Hudson Street, and a couple of big potted plants or flower boxes.
In the meantime, comes moving day. I can't keep nattering on here; I've got to get packed.
7 comments:
I find this interesting. My mother who is in her late 70s, has lived in the same house since she was 5 years old. The house was originally bought by her grandmother in 1918.
I however have moved 8 times and lived in 3 cities, not counting college. Each move has been a loss and a gain. The gains out weigh the losses, but I never seem to forget what I left behind.
Maybe we all live inside our heads anyway?
At any rate, we do pile up the baggage--literally and figuratively; I'm dealing with the literally right now--and carry it wherever we go.
We're more transient than generations past, and it's easier to uproot. Some call this seeking a geographical cure, and to some extent it may be in my case, but without trying to psychoanalyze me let's just say I always feel at home in the Northeast. And, as a friend of mine once said, "New York is the only thing in life that's just like it is in the movies."
Hoping there are some 'real' french fries at the clam joint. If so, with them and a chocolate shop and cozy restaurants, I'll bet you'll be very happy and contented! I always love reading your stories, Mary Lois. I'm one of the stay-putters. Let's see: my childhood home, some dorm rooms, 2 apartments, back to my childhood home, and now this farm for 28 years. I could have happily skipped the dorms and apartments. :<) Keep writing with lots of details and pictures, please!
Congratulations, Mary Lois!
The gate area looks like a perfect place to sit with coffee & a cigar (well maybe just coffee for you) as you watch the world go by. I have a deck behind my home, but I've found I enjoy sitting out in front on the stoop. It's just more interesting.
Are you going to have some flowers & furniture out there inside the gate?
Give me time, Steve! I can't do it this week anyway. Let's just say I'd like to, and will post pix when and if it happens.
Oh, crikey...! I just added up my moves; and it is a conflagration. At least 14-15. Of course divided by my age that is probably a modest number.
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