Into the Seward

We'll be settling in the Seward neighborhood, a part of which was once called, by an unknown crank, the "hub of hell." I suppose I can think of worse places to live, such as the bottom bracket of hell. Really, the hub is not so bad.

I will be traveling across town to our new home the way everyone travels in the heartland: by corn. -e

"How I learned to stop worrying..."

It is new!

A new house! New neighbors and their hellos and car alarms! A new street to cross every morning, with new gutters to explore for fallen car-floor treasures! A new silence at night, and new windows to yell out to break the silence. New stinks and new sweets. Maybe even a cafe, and neighborly cats to wrangle. New corners to navigate and new dumpsters!

Even a new roommate, one who will share and leave leave messes and sometimes clean up mine. Someone to spit wine at when I laugh, and to hide the last cookie from.

And you, new house, wherever you are: we'll do all kinds of things in you, laugh and barf and twirl our hair. We'll read books and swear, probably sometimes at you. We're excited to find you and to dump our heavy boxes.