A year in residence

A year ago today, I moved into my new home.

I am still as thrilled with my condo today as I was a year ago. Maybe even moreso, because I love coming home.

I just talked with my mother and some friends today—I think I’m going to have a Seder here this Passover. I didn’t last year, but this year, well, I want to have first night in my home. And I’ll even have some kids there to do the Four Questions.

Gracie loves this condo, too. She is happier here than she has ever been in her life. And Tig3.0? Well, look at the last post to see how happy they are. Every day at 11:00 a.m., Tig jumps up on the kitty shelf and annoys me until I play with him or pet him. Gracie sleeps in the office most of the day.

I’ve had overnight guests here, and I’m not worried that anything will happen to their car out in my driveway. I forget to lock my door sometimes—hell, I left the garage door open for about 45 minutes the other day because I was waving hello to my neighbor as I left and forgot to close it—and nothing happened. I no longer hide my valuables and laptop when I go to northern VA or on a trip out of town. And I never, ever hear my neighbors.

Peace. Quiet. Contentment. That’s what this home is filled with, plus a couple of cats that make me laugh, the occasional friend or relative, and various and sundry children. I think I may even have a Daled class reunion around Chanukah. That’d be fun.

Homeownership. It’s definitely a good thing.