We’ve been in our new home in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn for over a month and we love it. The actual move was a total bitch and it took us several days sans child (he was at his grandparents house in Connecticut) to make the apartment safe and ready for our son to come home to.
When people ask how our new place is I say it’s great, it is, but coming from seven years of living in a full service building I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was also a big adjustment. The three bedroom apartment with a deck is a total upgrade as far as apartments go but the one floor walk-up with no super has been a complete downgrade in buildings.
For instance, we are responsible for sorting our recycling and taking the trash to the curb three times per week in our new home. In our old building we were one of 320 apartments in which anything you threw out went down a garbage chute at any time of day you wanted. In our new home recycling only gets collected on Mondays. I can tell you from two weeks of some of our refuse getting rejected that the Department of Sanitation is strict when it comes to having the right bags, the right twine and the right square foot of curb for your trash.
Now that we have our garbage routine down there is a nice ebb and flow to our lives here on Bergen Street. We’re a little worried about what the empty storefront down below will be. If it’s a bar we’re screwed but if it’s a burger joint as it’s rumored to be, even as vegetarians we could probably make do. But of course a shoe store that closes at 8pm would be the ideal downstairs neighbor!
Another awesome thing about our new home is that my friend Scott from junior high school, his wife Shelly and their 10 month old daughter Olivia, live upstairs from us. It’s been a blast. We drink wine in our pajamas, not to mention it’s proved convenient when we’ve locked ourselves out of our respective apartments. Mylo gave Olivia her first kiss the other night — my heart melted and Scott’s raced as he watched his little girl squeal in delight. Never in my life did I think our children would be playing together, much less stealing precious moments together. To tell you that mine and Scott’s relationship growing up was one built on a lot of joking around is an understatement. But it was also shaped and somewhat marred by the tragic loss of a mutual friend. I am so glad he is back in my life and of course it helps that I adore Shelly, too!