Dump, Sweet Dump

J and I are settling into our new apartment, the first floor of an old, minimally maintained house in downtown Binghamton. It is bigger and less expensive; the water pressure is better and we don't pay for heat or hot water. The water also tastes better in the big shitty than it does in Endicott. Although the kitchen is a little too cozy (I had to put the fridge in the hallway to make more room) and has too few drawers, I do now have room to use the pot rack that came from my parents-in-law a couple years ago. The new place has a second bedroom and a pantry.

We've already had to make adjustments. We're not used to traffic, sirens and city lights. Plus, although we do have a small yard, it is nothing like our lush, beautiful, well-kept lawn that we're accustomed to. I've already got my dad working on some grass seed to try to help our patchy, sickly-looking yard.

Nothing in this old, unkempt house is level. When you open the fridge, the door flies and slams against the trash can; beer bottles and other unattended items fall off the kitchen counters and crash to the floor. You have to keep an eye on things or you may have a mess on your hands.

We still have alot to do before we'll be showing pictures but I wanted to give you an idea of how things are going. Hopefully, we'll be willing to show you around soon but don't hold your breath. See Overheard in the J and House: A Moving Edition for some explanation.