Archive for October, 2011


Three months, five moves, and three buildings later, our new home.

In my last post, I briefly mentioned that we’ve recently moved into a new apartment.  Unfortunately, I was almost completely “off the grid” for the summer months—writing my thesis—so that was news to many of you.  I say that’s especially because it might lead many readers to believe that we, like normal people might, simply decided to “move” (i.e. pack all of our stuff into boxes and then bring those boxes from one place to another place).

Suffice it to say, we’re not all that normal.  As stressful and time-consuming as moving is, that sort of thing would be too easy.  Have you ever lived with a Trevor?  Trevors make things complicated.  Like, excruciatingly complicated.  It’s a built-in feature of the model.

For starters, we decided that before we moved—before we even had a new apartment to move into—we needed to get the hell out of our crappity-crap-crap old one.  Which was crap.

Actually, it was a stroke of fortune that we were able to do so, and to do so in some serious style, despite the complications that came along with the process.  We were really blessed to be found by a couple who needed someone to house sit for the summer, and after a brief interview and tour of the place, they gave us the keys to what would become our wayside-rest of a home.

Now, when I say that we house sat for the summer, I cannot emphasize enough the scope or importance of the word “house.”  This was not some dinky, hyper-efficient, euro-house (though I shouldn’t know those, either, as we have both fallen in love with a couple of in our time here as well); this was a house house.  A people house.  A three and a half story, used to be occupied by seven college students but has since been beautifully renovated, and now functions as a “home” to a beautiful family, house.

Also, there was a backyard with chickens in it.  I shit you not.

So we began the summer with our first move.  We started out as stewards of our new people house by living out of suitcases.  At first, it wasn’t a problem, since Linds was in a state of limbo at various points between Belgium, New York, and Minneapolis, and had become used to living out of suitcases.  (Personally, I’m adept at this minimal style of living, since in high school I used to pack as little clothing as possible for week-long FCCLA trips in order to better accommodate my X-Box, which also came along.)  But as we passed the week mark, my better half started to get antsy.  So we completed another small move from the apartment to the new house.

Then things got interesting.


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