farewell to my city garden

I won't quite forget the moment my Super told me the apartment building was for sale. He quite literally handed me a shot of Lemoncello as he delivered that crushing blow. That's being a bit dramatic but I'm a nester. I fall in love with where I live. I like the nooks and crannies of my apartment buildings. The idea of living in a "managed building" is ludicrous. The walls would all be straight! I wouldn't have a weird colored backsplash! The tub would drain regularly!

But, it's happening. This shouldn't be a surprise to me at all. If I was to do the math on it, you could estimate that I have known this was happening for 5 months or so. But with a variety of life circumstances in the balance, I was able to fully delay really thinking about this. I was enjoying the summer. I was in Europe. I was starting a new job. 

My favorite part of this apartment was initially the thing that made me nervous. It's perch above North Street. I was worried it was too close to the street. It would be too loud. I wouldn't feel safe. Instead, I was wrong. When you live alone, you live alone. But when you live alone here, you don't feel like you are alone. There is an easy and regular flow of people getting around the neighborhood thanks to the proximity to the Freedom Trail, restaurants, and families that need fresh air.

There was a day this summer that my beloved apartment lost its luster for me. The day they declared my fire escape garden... a fire hazard. I loved walking into my kitchen whether it be from a yoga class, work, or a long weekend away to see my plants just outside the window. The first year I only had a few things: 1 San Marzano plant, maybe some mint, and two blooming planters on the railing. This year was a different story. I grew my flowers from seed, added a dahlia pot, tried out a blueberry bush, another railing planter, and a herb garden. So yes, I can see how this transformed into a "fire hazard". But, it was my little urban oasis. 

I would sit uncomfortably perched on the window sill drinking iced tea during the day and wine at night. Some people would walk by in their own world, while others would shout gently that they loved my flowers. Sunday summer evenings were my favorite. I would get some focaccia from Bricco Salumneria and sit watching people circle the neighborhood for parking spots. So, when the garden was gone... so was some of the magic. 

I'm unwilling to compromise on where I live. I want to love where I pay to live, not just sleep there. So, I'm probably leaving the city for a bit to regroup. Apartment hunting is just the worst. Realtors are also the worst. I'll probably be back - but if not, here are the things I loved about my apartment:
- the morning light in my living room
- watching Eleanor chase the morning light
- the exposed brick walls
- the extra half bathroom... with its incredibly crooked shapes
- how my dresser fits perfectly on one wall in my bedroom
- the arched entry between my kitchen and living room
- the windows facing the street
- watching the Italian feast parades go by
- the old man who lives across the street
- my garden

Here's what I won't miss:
- the bathtub that doesn't drain well
- my crazy neighbor Debbie
- the Italian way of doing things
- Gino, the building Super
- watching people illegally park outside my apartment
- watching people go through the trash
- the acid yellow green kitchen backsplash
- how dirty the windows get

These pictures are all old and from this past Spring. They are miss-matchy and not well taken, edited, or composed. I had intended on writing this post in July - but honestly couldn't make myself do it. But today, I packed my first moving box... so it's real now. Maybe there will be another post on the things that I love. But maybe not. 

For posterity, here are some of the posts that got me where I am today. My introduction into living with Italians. When I decided to move from my previous apartment. The pains of packing. The point where you want to burn all your belongings. And finally, when you are still getting to know where you live.

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