The cabin report: That's a wrap, folks

[slipjig3]

So. We're moving.

It feels weird to say that, in light of how all of my previous posts about Sotto Voce, the current Log Cabin of Residence, have been glowy, ye-gods-do-we-love-it-here raves even when there are complaints attached. And we do love this place, its space and its vibe and all that. It's just that the troubles have been stacking up: a leaky roof, a well that's threatening to run dry, mice galore and a pain-in-the-ass chipmunk who keeps stealing all the energy bars. Then we found out what heating oil is going to cost for this place over the winter (after we were unpleasantly surprised by an empty tank one night), and we promptly turned a ghastly shade of crême de menthe.

None of this was lost on Catherine the Landlady, who had vague thoughts before we moved in of just giving up and tearing the place down that became less and less vague as the repairs stacked up. Much hemming and hawing and "oh, I don't want to give you the wrong impression or put you out"-ing ensued in both directions, but eventually we collectively realized that staying here was not going to be a good long-term solution for anyone involved.

Luckily, Catherine knows people. Chip and Sang, a couple she knows nearby (and who we had met at a potluck once, back when belgatherial was visiting), have a recently-vacated downstairs apartment in their house, which we checked out on Saturday. It met so many laundry-list requirements it makes me dizzy to list them in my head: New construction (2006). Excellent design and execution. Lower rent than the current place, with heat included. Within walking distance of the current place, for a blessedly short move. Gorgeous view. Enough room for us and our stuff. Sufficient closets and outlets. Garbage and plowing taken care of. It's got a freakin' dishwasher, for the love of Hannah. Plus really nifty and friendly new landlords to go with the equally friendly and nifty old landlord, who's giving us our full safety deposit back and breaking our lease penalty-free.

So we've set a date, December 1, but there's miles of wiggle room since the new place is empty, no one's moving into the old one, and everyone's easy like Sunday morning about the timing and offering helping hands and use of pickups and trailers. Most importantly, the new apartment felt just plain good to walk into, the same way that this one did when we first got the walkthrough, back before cold weather hit and the critter hell-mouth opened somewhere in the crawlspace. It feels unequivocally right.

I'll miss the cabin, though. Just a bit. Not going to miss the bats in the shower, though. And dammit, those energy bars were expensive.

Comments

[oneagain.livejournal.com]

Sounds like a better fit. The critters would get to me, too. Best of luck :)

[yendi]

Woot! Not having to fight a chipmunk for food is always a good thing!

[rubian77.livejournal.com]

Aww, that's such a shame. But I'm glad that Catherine the Landlady is a) gracious about it, and b) connected. :)

(Incidentally, the amount of stone and wood in that place? She'd probably recoup quite a bit if she'd sell it to a salvage agency.)

[sariel-t.livejournal.com]

Oh, that is awesome.

[dandelion-diva.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's wonderful. I'm so glad everything is working out.

[intuition-ist.livejournal.com]

Ask some pointed questions of the "heat included" esp. since you're so far north -- for example, is there a cap on heating costs for the month/year? does the heat come on when you want it to? (if it's 50 degrees on Oct. 1, can you turn the heat on or do you have to shiver until 10/15?) does "heating" include gas/oil and any electric used to blow hot air into the room, or is it gas/oil only (central air is nice but involves both an increased gas bill and an increased electric bill).

good luck! sounds like the new place is lovely. housewarming?