I Can Never Move

This is my second summer in the same place and I love it! I love not moving. The day we buy a house will be one of the happiest days of my life, I'm sure because right now...

We're still renting.

Falling in love with your home while you're renting is like...something doomed from the start. Forgive me the metaphor, I could not think of one. But in the end, it's sad news. You'll have to move some day and it's possible that the move might not be favorable. Actually, in Provo, it's probable that it will not be favorable.

I'm absolutely terrified that someday we are going to move into an apartment that doesn't have space for a garden, or a lawn to lay out on, or a yard to have a barbecue in, or worst of all....storage.

Andrew and I lucked out. Our house has a lot of space...and we've slowly filled that space. But not all apartments are created equal and i'm terrified we won't have space later.

BUT! The good news is that we are not moving. I still have a garden and I can lay out on the lawn all I want and I can keep collecting camping gear and other manner of things that college students normally can't keep around.

I love my apartment. Even the tiny kitchen has grown on me (mostly). Since the addition of the wondrous pot rack, I've been quite happy. Sometimes the kitchen is hard to work in, but its mostly alright. I even cleaned the entire apartment recently so its all clean and aired out (no more stale winter "we never open the doors or windows" smell!) I love it!

We put up screen doors last night too so that we can keep the doors open without the bugs coming in and eating us. Of course there is also the garden. I'm planting lots of yummy things and even thought the spring crops might be a failure because I trusted the frost dates on the internet instead of the blossoms on the trees, I'm confident we'll get a wonderful crop of tomatoes again and we'll be able to make fresh tomato EVERYTHING!

I love my apartment and I've put a lot of work into making it a home. That is why my relationship with my apartment is doomed.  The only thing it doesn't have is room to grow. And even though we aren't growing just yet, and even though we aren't moving just yet, the longer we stay here and the more I do to the house, the louder the voice at the back of my head gets as it says "Don't get too attached".

Aha. I figured out the metaphor! It's like raising a pig for slaughter. You shouldn't give it a name. Well, I gave my pig a name and it wasn't bacon. :(

But I still love my apartment :)