Change of Heart and Car-less

I think it must have been that month in France a couple of summers ago that really did it. Driving used to be this therapeutic experience for me. In my younger years, when I was angry or needed to clear my head, I'd go for a drive; road trips were short little mini-vacations themselves, and my red mustang knew its own way to Orlando and Boca Raton. Once, I jumped in my jeep and drove to Washington DC for dinner! No big deal, it was only nine and a half hours.

Perhaps I finally grew tired of it after commuting forty-five minutes each way for over ten years, or maybe I started to realize how much our country is grossly dependent upon cars and the effects of such dependency on the world around us. Whatever the reason for this evolution of thought, I found myself completely and utterly content with tram systems, subways, high-speed trains, and my own two legs while in France. It was a true change of heart, and since that time, I've been discontent with my own dependency.

For the past four months, we've not been hindered in the least by living car-less. On the contrary, we actually enjoy not having one. (the baby car sold this week--we are officially car-less now!) Only once in the past four months have we actually needed a vehicle, and in this case, it was to transport a piece of furniture that wouldn't have fit in our baby car anyway! (Grateful, once again, to a kindhearted uncle) Add to this the beautiful benefit of dinner in the city and not having to worry who will drive home, so, yes, thanks for asking, we'll both have another glass of wine.

Obviously, not everyone can practically function without a car, but it was important for us to give this a go. I had tried and failed in Louisville; anyone who has had to rely upon the TARC system knows how utterly discouraging this experience can be! Dealing with our own dependency on a car was not our main motivation behind moving to New York, but it was powerful factor in the decision making process. As with many things, it is simply not enough for us to talk about changing the mindset of the world in which we live; this time, it was important for us to actually be the change we want to see in this world.

It may seem like a small thing, and truthfully, it sometimes feels insignificant, but then I remember this, choose to go on, and do the best I can:

I am only one,

But still I am one.

I cannot do everything,

But still I can do something;

And because I cannot do everything,

I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

Edward Everett Hale

Peace to you!

Our Tiny Space

Our tiny space, our little corner of this city, our studio apartment is perfect in every way. As I make my way from the bus stop each day, I realize how lucky we are to have found it. Several had warned us not to get our hopes up when moving here. They'd ask our price range, then they'd laugh and tell us some variation of you better get used to a dump and some rats...as roommates. No worries, they'd say, it's just part of paying your dues to live in this city. We sincerely thought we'd have to settle for a bit.

A week after moving here, and camping out in the uncles' spare room, I found a listing that sounded promising, but because the rental competition here is so fierce, we were not prepared for the amount of paperwork required. We learned our lesson quickly. By the time we had the wonderful parents Fed-Ex three years of taxes returns, the apartment was leased and we were once again living at square one. (And so grateful for the kindness of the uncles.) No worries. I told myself that no one finds a place in New York that quickly. Don't be silly.

For the next month and a half, we spent almost every spare second looking for listings, walking neighborhoods, and meeting with agents. We must have walked a million miles. We checked out Harlem, the Bronx, and Sunnyside; some areas we loved and some we felt much safer after reaching the sub again. Some seemed hopeful, only to be leased out from under us or rejected because of our income bracket at the time. Once an agent called and before we could even finish our sub ride into the city to view the space, it was leased. Competition is fierce and I found myself second guessing our chances on more than one occasion.

All of these apartments we'd seen were much smaller than our current tiny space, (yes, it is possible) at the high end or beyond our price range, and dark, dingy, and shabby by comparison. On a whim, or perhaps out of desperation, I left a voice mail for the landlord we'd seen the first week. I don't think I was even expecting a return call, but the next day at work, she called! There was a spot open and we could see it that afternoon. Practically running to the bus stop after work, this time we were ready! As it turns out, this was even better than the previous apartment. Northeast corner of the building, top floor, beautiful view, plus all the added extras of location: quiet neighborhood, walking distance from the wifey's school, half-block to the bus, five minutes from the sub. I got nervous when the landlord reviewed our paper and said I wish you made more.  I assured her that I wished the same thing, but for now, this was reality. Bottom line: she liked us and we had a good connection; that made the difference.

The real bonus is that it is a small, beautiful, hardwood floored, well-kept, rat-free bldg (resident cat does his job well!) at the very bottom end of our price range--with no broker fee, I might add. Our landlord loves plants, so there are plants everywhere; it's a nice spot to come home to each day. It is a cozy  place where we can see ourselves staying until it is time to move into something a bit more house-y. (yes, I made that word up.)

As the morning sun shines through our huge windows and the tree shadows dance upon our still empty walls, I am grateful. Grateful for this move, grateful for my life, and grateful for our tiny space that we now call home.

Ciao!