So, on the one hand, I love love love our new place. It’s great to live in an actual city again, with a variety of choices regarding coffee shops, restaurants, bookstores, and clothing stores. I adore the multitude of parks and recreational choices. I love the fact that 2 minutes from my house is a road that, if I turn left on it, I enjoy scenic vistas and winding roads, while if I turn right, I’m in town in less than 5 minutes. I love that my husband’s place of work is a 20 minute walk, 10 minute rollerblade, or 2 minute ride/ drive away. I adore the buslines. I’m ecstatic about living so close to family and friends.
The duplex itself is fantastic. It’s a cozy little 2-bed, 1-bath, with a sort of comfy retro styling that takes me back to the house of my childhood. Even the appliances are the familiar sort my parents had while I was growing up, and I love it.
We live in a cul-de-sac, too, which is awesomely fantastic — no worries of cars racing to and fro like at the old place. Our old house was surrounded by businesses that were constantly broken into, and the cars were regularly prowled; this residential neighborhood doesn’t have those issues.
So in almost every respect, I adore this place. There is one tiny, irritation, but it’s so pointlessly ridiculous that it doesn’t really matter.