in search of a new home. south (way south) of 181st (and preferably no where near the A train).

cafe peddlar

watty and meg

i was meant to move april 15. the lease was up. the impetus was strong. and i was ready.

i'd been counting down for months. time to go.

and then came the elevator repair. the elevator repair that begins tomorrow, march 26, just weeks before my move-out date. and with the repair, the news that i'd not be allowed to leave until it was finished.


when i went to visit my brother last year there was a moment while waiting for the train that i watched as a little boy tugged on his mother's arm, it's coming, the train is coming. 

he had heard it--i knew he had heard it, but try as i might, head-cocked, much as i could, i could not. i could not hear what that little boy had heard.

i always hear the train where i live now. it's that phenomenon where you're so attuned to a place--so familiar with your neighborhood that you know the subtle shifts in sound and pressure.

it's time. to move. to live somewhere new. to learn to listen differently.

i got one more month than expected until that happens, but that means an extra month to explore new neighborhoods in hopes of finding one that feels both totally different and totally safe.

this weekend my dear friend kim took a trip with me on the F train to brooklyn, and i'm gonna level with you: i quite might like living in a borough.