Home again

Despite the fatigue-inducing hassle that often comes with flying, there's a moment on each flight that makes air travel magical.

I don't think I've been on a flight yet where the moment wasn't there.

Right after the fasten seatbelt light is turned on for the last time, tray tables and seat backs are at their full and upright position, everyone is quite. Their electronics are off, their eyes are reopened, and they sit quietly with their stranger-turned-neighbor and stare out the tiny oval windows that run the length of the plane.

Yesterday the afternoon sun lit up our faces and made dancing patterns on the overhead bins as the airplane turned and the angle of the light shifted.

It's such a quiet moment. Maybe it's anticipation to be some place new, or a thoughtful time to regroup and ready yourself for home.

But it feels like group extra-spection. As you see the tiny roads and rivers carve out forests and cities, and the patchwork geometry of agriculture unfolds below, I know that I can't feel a little smaller, a little more like I'm just one tiny piece of something so big and so beautiful. It feels like the plane load of passengers is held in a collective awe of what we just did—spanned a continent in a few hours—and in collective awe of how beautiful the world is.

I'm not sure how God wouldn't cross your mind in a moment like that. I thought about Him, and said a thankful prayer as we touched down on the runway.

The place we call home

I've had some requests for a little home tour. While we moved into a furnished place, I feel like it's still my womanly domestic duty to make it feel like our home. It's still a work in progress, but it's good enough to give you a sneak peak.

Just to your left before you come in the front door there is a little courtyard where we lock up our bikes. It's an internal courtyard (you have to have a key to our building to access it) but Mikey can count the number of shiny bikes he's seen in Bologna and two of them are ours. It's just good policy to always lock your bike here, even if you think it's safe.

This is what you see when you enter the front door. Looking down the hall you can see the space where Ada sleeps at night (just outside our room which is the door at the end of the entry hall on the left). During the day we wheel her bed into our room, shut the door, and pray we don't have the go to the bathroom while she's napping.

Just to the left is a little widow that looks into the courtyard. The open widow on the ground floor is our bedroom window.

The coat rack is an old headboard that has been screwed into the wall and had antique-looking, solid, hooks attached. I think it's super cool. It may have been one of the selling points . . .

This is the view if you turn around. Lost yet?

The first (and only) door on your left leads into our bedroom. Straight through the next door is the bathroom. It has a shower, a toilet, sink, and for all you fancy folks who want to use it, a bidet.

Window, radiator, chair, bed. Comfy white linens. Not much to explain here.

 The large pieces of furniture acts as our closet. All of our hanging things (and shoes) are in there. It's nice to have the curtains rather than doors because I don't think there would have been room for doors to open. On a related note, I love how solid and beautiful all of the bedroom furniture is. The bedroom furniture was another reason I liked this place.

The rest of our clothes are in the dresser. And call me silly, but I'm so glad I packed picture frames.

One of the beautiful details I love about our bedroom is the old wooden beam that runs the length of the ceiling. Very few of the places we looked at had remnants of the old Bologna style homes (apparently they had beam-lined ceilings and lots of exposed brick. Um, yes please?), but this apartment had just a hint.

Out of the bedroom and to your left is our living/cooking/dining/studying/playing area. There's a large futon (which is surprisingly comfortable and a provides a great nap).

This is where we eat and study and paint (or will paint. Ada willing. . .)

The kitchen. We actually have really nice appliances. It's all gas powered and I love the water heaters here that heat as you use. The fridge is hidden in the tall cupboard on the left. Sneaky, sneaky. And oh look! It's that baby I love.

Most of the dishes are stored there. It's been great to have Ada in a high chair. It keeps her busy and out of my food which is always a plus at dinner time.

Mike's desk. Well, in reality he does more studying (so far, at least) at school.

This is the view out the window as you're sitting at the desk. We loved that this apartment had a little private space out back. It's the only place we looked at that had any sort of a yard.

Does doing laundry here look dreamy? It is until you want that fresh-out-of-the-dryer feel. But it makes for pretty photos.

We have yet to barbeque, but the grill is ready. I'm just too afraid of the mosquitoes to sit outside.

That's our place. Now who's coming to visit? We have that great futon and an extra set of linens . . .

Moved

You know what's awesome? The fact that we will have moved 4 times in 13 months by the time we're in Italy. Because we're cool like that.

Remember how I sobbed the night before moving in here?

While I was packing yesterday, I had to take a break to feed the babe and as I sat there in our stripey chair (a place where I spent countless hours during Ada's first few days of life) I was flooded with all of the motherly memories that took place in our living room. The hours on the floor suffering through tummy time. The time spent reading, and giggling, and smiling and cooing. The frustrating moments of figuring out how to care for a baby. A human baby. That I made. With my body. (I STILL can't get over that).

And I cried. Which brought things full circle in sort of a nice way. Through tears I was telling Ada how much I'll miss the big windows and having time alone with her on the floor. I told her that even though she'll never remember this home, I always will because it was where I became a mother.

So although I won't miss the lack of a garbage disposal or a bathroom counter, the moldy looking grout around the tub, the little hole on the floor in the kitchen that I always scuff the bottom of my foot on, doing dishes by hand, or how hard it is to open the bathroom door, I will always have a tender spot in my heart for "The Shallows" (as the local ward calls them) because it's where my heart grew deep and strong.

Looking for a place to live?

We're moving. I'm sad to leave because I honestly love our apartment (despite what my hormones were telling me the night before we moved in). It's clean and bright and the perfect size for two (or three, if your third is rather small, like ours is). If you're interested, shoot me a message or leave a comment. We're looking for move-ins at the end of May or beginning of June. We're flexible.

The front door and living room.

The view when you walk in. Aren't the windows lovely?

Another living room shot. The door next to the heater goes to the bedroom.

Our little work space (with all sorts of hook-ups and plugs for all your electronic, communication and entertainment needs) and the dining area.

The kitchen.

The doorway at the end of the kitchen leads to a laundry room/pantry. Which I absolutely love. Love love love.

Looking from the pantry to the kitchen. Also, I think we're going to sell that table and chairs. Any takers?

Laundry side. And by the way, have you seen Secretariat? We have the same washing machine as Penny Tweedy.

Pantry. I love the glass cupboard doors. It makes my groceries look so good.

Looking from the laundry/pantry to the kitchen.

Bedroom. Ada sleeps on my side of the bed. In her stroller/bassinet. Cause we're classy like that.

The bedroom is pretty good sized (even though I was SURE when it was empty we'd never fit inside). We have the two large yellow pieces, our bed, a night stand, and there's still room to wheel the babe around in there.

A view from the bathroom to the bedroom.

Bathroom. You need one.

The tub is awesome. Cast iron and enamel. Oooh! As a bath connoisseur I can tell you, they don't make 'em like this anymore. My water stays hot for so long. And it's deep and lovely. I'm going to miss it. For reals.

And that ends our lovely home tour. Let us know if you're interested. And pass along the post if you know someone else who might be!