Even before I had blinked the sleep out of my eyes on Sunday morning, I knew I wasn't in Manhattan anymore. Through my uncurtained windows I could see a patio surrounded by climbing vines and overgrown greenery. Add to this idyllic scene a squirrel running along the brick wall and a bird flying across and you have what is now my back yard. I am now a Brooklynite.
Andrew and I had probably the smoothest move we could have imagined. On Saturday morning we were so well-prepared, we even had downtime to eat breakfast before the movers arrived. By 3pm we were completely out of Manhattan and completely into Brooklyn. Our movers somehow managed to defy all laws of physics, gravity, and logic by getting our furniture to fit through corners that should not have been possible. Some friends came over on Saturday night to help us unpack and welcome us to Brooklyn, and by Sunday our apartment actually looked like a real place to live. We're thrilled.
We still don't have curtains up and we may not cover our back windows since they're the main source of natural light to an otherwise dark ground-level apartment. I actually find that it's easier to wake up now that the grinding and pounding of construction has been replaced by birdcalls, and the first thing I see every morning is a green garden that's all ours.
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