This week I am on my yearly sojourn of eldest progeny visitation. She now lives in a third floor apartment with a view of the neighborhood park–well, sideways squint from the bathroom window. There is no elevator. This is an o-l-d building. If I were a realtor I would employ the words “charming,” “has character,” “a link to the city’s past.” In other words, the stairs are steep and the hallways long, and the foyer smell is a bit aromatic. The apartment itself is charming with lots of light from the east, west, and southern exposure. Her last place was a basement studio. The window and light were practically non-existent. The landlords seem to be trying to update the building. There are mock wood floors, cream-colored stucco walls, deadbolts, and newish windows. They don’t quite close all the way but there is hope for a fix in the works.
After the fourth night of staying in a third floor walk up having lived in relatively ground level dwellings all my life, I have the following observations:
- Costco shopping hauls are ludicrous because all that is bought can only be hauled if held in each hand
- Always think about if you have everything before leaving the apartment
- Should I take the garbage down?
- Looking at life from a bird’s-eye view lends a pleasant start to the morning
- Going outside for some fresh air takes on deeper meaning
- The opportunity to develop voyeurism is tempting
- Less is more when it comes to gathering possessions, since it all has to be moved down eventually
- Having neighbors below makes one more sensitive to noise being made since we were once the neighbor below
- Streetside parking involves intuition and strategy
- Buns of steel and stamina are a bonus to the view
These observations might be different if the building had an elevator–then again the rent would probably be higher. There seems to be an irony here: most places charge more for the tippy-top real estate, then again elevators must be part of the equation.
Perhaps if I were in my formative years of twentyish ,a walk-up domicile with windows would be exciting. At present, I am learning an appreciation for my yard, driveway, and ability to amass belongings without too much consequence.
As someone who lives on the top floor and just broke her foot, word.
You have my sympathies. Walking up is bad enough–hobbling? Drat and double drat.
Voyeurism, eh? Be careful. I once heard about this guy in a wheelchair who peeked too much; he was thrown out a window by Raymond Burr.
Yes, one must learn the nuances of looking out the window without looking in them. As for that fellow? I indeed heard the same, how his fall for Grace nearly cost him his life.
I see what you did there.