Moving Mayhem

We were unwilling to sign another year contract while Colin was still doing to job offer limbo. We put off finding a new place as long as possible, hoping to know what job we would need to be living by in the near future. We loved the old place. It was a prime example of a Provo house turned small apartment complex. Sure it had it’s quirks (pink bathroom anyone?) but it also had a working gas fireplace, huge windows, and a huge tree outside just perfect for a Sunday afternoon nap. But as no firm job offers came in time, we decided to move into a month-to-month rental just around the corner.

 

So about the new apartment—it has a few quirks. The coolest is a small metal trap door with the word “milk” etched in the front. It’s like a mail box for your milk man. That’s just cool.

The less favorable parts include a soft subfloor in the bathroom, warped paint, Swiss cheese walls with brown and maroon paint, and a completely mold covered freezer. (I’m open to suggestions on this one. I tried face mask and a ton of bleach, but I hear that won’t kill the spores). Lucky for us the apartment manager hired someone to redo all the flooring, including the hardwood, which should look sweet when finished. However, but some stroke of madness we agreed to paint the whole house in return for discounted rent.

 
The new place has significant advantage in being a month-to-month rental with low rent. It also has some of the classic charm associated with older apartments, one of which is a small metal trap door with the word “milk” etched in the front. It’s like a mail box for your milk man. That’s just cool.
 
But the place needed a lot of TLC. We agreed to paint and patch for a discount in the rent, and the landlord agreed to hire a handyman for the more complicated floor repairs.  We also ended up doing a ton of cleaning, including a freezer that had been left with food particles, what I can only assume was a spilled bottle of soy sauce, and a freezer totally covered mold.  (I’m open to suggestions on this one. I tried face mask and a ton of bleach, but I hear that won’t kill the spores.)  Little did I know that the mold I speak of would actually end up keeping me safe. It was a very similar mold that scared me away from using the toilet.  The Handyman later informed us that the same exact  toilet was a hair away from falling through the completely soft sub-floor. That would have been an adventure! Thank you mold! You literally saved my butt! 

We rushed like crazy to get the painting done on time Saturday so that the handyman could start work that Monday. We went by to check on the progress Monday to find the place exactly as we left it. Nothing done at all. We called the land lord, who called the handy man, who we went to see Tuesday to tell him we were supposed to move in Thursday night. We ended up moving in while he was still working, which was a little tricky in a 400 square foot apartment.

After what seemed like a month of packing, a few nights sleeping on the floor, and some nasty cleaning we were ready to go. Since we were only moving across the street, we felt no need to get a truck, we just used a dolly and some of Colin’s brothers willing to work for pizza. I cant tell you how annoying student foot traffic gets in circumstances like these. I heard a girl audibly laugh out loud at me as I moved my microwave across the street at 10 pm on a wheeled office chair. To which I wanted to say, “Listen Chicky, you gotta problem with the chair, you gotta problem with me!” after which I would ask for her help moving my collection of brass knuckles and cement booties.

After much shuffling of our gleaned boxes and about a week leaving every window in the house open, we are finally in, or at least half way in. We still cant walk around the edges of the bed, but we can basically sit, cook, and sleep. Hopefully that will tide us over until we can make more permanent plans.

Baby Pinafore

This was a sewing project for a friends new little teeny. I found the pattern here:  I wanted to make ruffle-butt pants to come out the back, but alas the lack of time.

Last Traces of Summer:

One of the most amazing things about living in Utah is that sunflowers grow wild practically anywhere. What’s particularly amazing about these flowers is that they were growing out of a huge pile of gravel on the side of the road.
Colin braved the rocky summit to bring me back a few of what must be the most tenacious flower in existence. I was amazed at how much joy it gave me to bring the little guys home. I wanted to sketch them, paint them, press them--anything to preserve the loveliness effect. It’s embarrassing to admit how much enthusiasm I have for things like this. What kind of people are over the moon about flowers? Fairy princesses? Wood nymphs? Certainly not respectable grown women like me.
Who am I kidding? I was never respectable and I never will be. Hello, my name is Katie, and I get excited to the point of silliness. I’m glad I could get that off my chest.
When we got home I quickly snipped the stems under water and crushed a baby aspirin into the water to keep them good.
They withered in three days.
Seriously? They can grow from seed to blossom out of a pile of straight up gravel, but they can’t make it through three days in my kitchen? I guess I should have left them where they were.