Traded in: A microwave for a toaster oven,
Drywall for plaster and crown molding,
Central Air for window units,
Washer and Dryer for a Laundry mat (or generous friends),
Vaulted ceilings for crystal door knobs,
Paneling for brick,
and a 4th floor forest view for a historic eclectic community.
I have spent my entire life in “new construction.”
Most of the houses we had growing up, we moved into brand new and had the same smell and feel I had moving into the Grand Vista’s as the first renter of my 4th story apartment. I used to affectionately call it “my tree house.” In the mornings I’d wake up to the stillness of the expansive woods behind my building (that were interrupted a year later for more new construction, only visible in the winters). It was my retreat, my escape, my home. That was until I had a roommate move in who effectively turned my Lynchburg life of luxury into an environment that felt so toxic to me it took a quick 21 days to determine this, determine to move, and effectively do so.
What I moved to was the historic side of town.
The complex is on a major thorough fare, with a bustling little community that is well buffered by the plastered walls unless you’re near a window or door. Though the ceilings aren’t vaulted, the ceiling fans on the smaller 8 foot ceilings are a beautiful change. I was petrified of A/C units (having never lived in a home that used them in my life) but they turned out to be as effective as central air in my tiny apartment. Though the water pressure reminds me of summer camp, doors that don’t close, the absence of luxury items like a washer/dryer, dishwasher, pool and gym are all things I’ve finally adjusted to live without – having a place all to my own that I can keep clean or dirty as I please, come and go as I please, sleep or play as I please, is WondERFUl.
The next roommate I have: husband.
Till then, it’s Joey and me!