We officially outgrew our apartment yesterday.
Okay, this has been going on for some time now. What was once a spacious one-bedroom apartment with wood floors and a lovely view of the mountains has been shrinking.
Yes, fine, the kitchen started out small and has stayed that way.
wildernessguru and I both love to cook and cook together, but the narrow (if colorful and appealing) kitchen is an elbow hazard. The dining area (I can't call it a room with a straight face) has always been tragically tiny.
But the living room began its existence comfortably large with high ceilings and wide windows. Once upon a time it had an open expanse wide enough to land a small glider. Then it sprouted a couch and a couple of chairs, which didn't seem to take much room. But of course, couches seem to acquire coffee tables after the third or fourth spilled drink. Then one of the chairs grew an ottoman and a magazine holder. Two lamps became three, and of course the halogen needed a home. Surely the curtains didn't take up much space?
One bookshelf multiplied and became four, and yet there are still books on the floor, piled in a two foot stack by the ottoman.
A TV appeared in our formerly TV-free household. I blame the weather. It showed up one day right before Seattle was due to be snowed in for a week (with the video store membership). I suppose it was cold. Then the phone, which perched on the TV with the curling cord falling in front of the screen, complained, and thus a long table arched over the TV, accomodating the phone, a fifth lamp, and as near as I can tell, a landing place for every piece of junk in the house. Periodically I clear-cut this area.
Now what home would be complete without a cat? Ours certainly wouldn't. While the cat began as a small little handful of fluff, two trees instantly grew up in opposite corners of the apartment, for one must not have an unexercised kitty. A litter box took up residence in the bathroom behind the door, becoming a covered litter box for everyone's convenience.
Then the livingroom developed a squatter.
The laptop was supposed to be for work, and travel, but give a computer an inch.... Soon it had taken over a corner of the coffee table as a permanent occupant. After a few years it began wheezing and losing data, and in the circle of life, the laptop went into retirement and was replace by a 17" LCD monitor with an Aspire ASE360 CPU and AMD Athelon chip. With a printer! Which developed its own stand (and another small but desperately needed bookshelf, still not enough).
The rather negligible closet space in the apartment, well. The closet spillway I blame entirely on
wildernessguru. Unlike most women, I am a minimalist when it comes to clothes. It comes from being a Buddhist nun. Once you've spent ten years with everything the same color, you break the habit of owning more than you absolutely need (though I do hold onto favorite t-shirts even when there are more holes than shirt, yes, yes, I'm the guy in the house).
wildernessguru unfortunately has a jacket fetish. Can't drag him past a display of jackets without him having to check them out. He comes home with a guilty grin and... yet another jacket... especially designed for certain esoteric weather conditions, it's Gortex 10-ply-blah-blah-blah and check out the extra pockets! Plus it was on sale. When he's not buying himself jackets he's buying me jackets. I have more jackets than shoes, and it takes a brave person to squeeze through the hangers in our closet to pry one out.
The base of the closet is full up to jacket level. Did you notice the boyfriend's name is
wildernessguru? You may imagine that the "wilderness" part of the name means he just grabs a can of pork n' beans, a row of traps and a .45, but in reality it means six backpacks (two daypacks, one mid-size pack, an expedition pack, the custom pack, and the pack he bought me), a half dozen camp stoves (white fuel cell and canister types, plus the multi-fuel for overseas trips), two tents, four sleeping bags, pre-packed fire starters (he makes them), a bazillion flashlights in various sizes, various headlamps (working and non-working), the titanium ultra-lite cookset, and every outdoor bit, bob, and bauble known to man. Much of it fits in the closet. Until he's looking for something. Which is why I call this area "the spillway."
Okay. The books are my fault. (And the computer. And the DVDs squeezed next to the TV.) Funny. I say we need more bookshelves. He says we need more closet space. We both say, "Buy fewer books/buy less outdoor gear!" But I feel I have the moral high ground. Fewer books, what a ridiculous idea.
Still, we were fine. Everything had a corner. Books accumulated. The spillway spilled. But we could clean up. There was enough open space for three sweeps of a lawn mower should we ever choose to mow our hardwood floors.
There was one last hold out to our younger years: The bedroom.
wildernessguru still had his queen-size futon from college. I still had a big wicker basket (full of art supplies) from when I was seven and a lamp from when I was in high school. We more or less camped out in the bedroom with few concessions to adulthood. Okay,
wildernessguru bought a dresser, but it lived in the closet. There was a second spillway next to the closet known as the laundry basket.
Well, our bed arrived yesterday.
Mahogany, platform-style, vaguely Asian in design.
I cleared out the bedroom, scrubbed the floor and walls, and spent a happy couple of hours with screw drivers, cursing quietly as I squared the headboard to the frame and realized I'd better start with the foot of the bed. I used to work construction and know a carpenter's most important tool is a finely honed collection of four-letter words --
wildernessguru knows to stay out of my way. He went to go seam-seal a new tent (ask him what that means). I left the screws loose until I had it all assembled, then cranked down on them. Got out my cordless drill as I debated whether or not to put in the fetish hardware that prompted the purchase of the bed (the futon was pine but you drill into pine that's been heat-aged for 25 years), or wait until I was less tired and apt to make a mistake. Caution won.
It's gorgeous. Elegant. Last night I lit candles and felt like I was sleeping in a hotel.
The cat has been playing, leaping from the bed to race across the open living room and back again. He's delighted. Every time I walk by the bedroom I smile, That looks nice.
But now the laundry basket won't fit. A queen-sized bed seems to be slightly wider than a queen-sized futon frame and the manufacturer was never able to give me exact measurements. The laundry looked terrible there anyway. The ficus has been kicked out and I knew my wicker basket would have to go. The ficus is parked by the computer, the mirror doesn't work on that wall any more and --
-- my god this apartment is small.
wildernessguru started circling apartment ads last night.
Okay, this has been going on for some time now. What was once a spacious one-bedroom apartment with wood floors and a lovely view of the mountains has been shrinking.
Yes, fine, the kitchen started out small and has stayed that way.
But the living room began its existence comfortably large with high ceilings and wide windows. Once upon a time it had an open expanse wide enough to land a small glider. Then it sprouted a couch and a couple of chairs, which didn't seem to take much room. But of course, couches seem to acquire coffee tables after the third or fourth spilled drink. Then one of the chairs grew an ottoman and a magazine holder. Two lamps became three, and of course the halogen needed a home. Surely the curtains didn't take up much space?
One bookshelf multiplied and became four, and yet there are still books on the floor, piled in a two foot stack by the ottoman.
A TV appeared in our formerly TV-free household. I blame the weather. It showed up one day right before Seattle was due to be snowed in for a week (with the video store membership). I suppose it was cold. Then the phone, which perched on the TV with the curling cord falling in front of the screen, complained, and thus a long table arched over the TV, accomodating the phone, a fifth lamp, and as near as I can tell, a landing place for every piece of junk in the house. Periodically I clear-cut this area.
Now what home would be complete without a cat? Ours certainly wouldn't. While the cat began as a small little handful of fluff, two trees instantly grew up in opposite corners of the apartment, for one must not have an unexercised kitty. A litter box took up residence in the bathroom behind the door, becoming a covered litter box for everyone's convenience.
Then the livingroom developed a squatter.
The laptop was supposed to be for work, and travel, but give a computer an inch.... Soon it had taken over a corner of the coffee table as a permanent occupant. After a few years it began wheezing and losing data, and in the circle of life, the laptop went into retirement and was replace by a 17" LCD monitor with an Aspire ASE360 CPU and AMD Athelon chip. With a printer! Which developed its own stand (and another small but desperately needed bookshelf, still not enough).
The rather negligible closet space in the apartment, well. The closet spillway I blame entirely on
The base of the closet is full up to jacket level. Did you notice the boyfriend's name is
Okay. The books are my fault. (And the computer. And the DVDs squeezed next to the TV.) Funny. I say we need more bookshelves. He says we need more closet space. We both say, "Buy fewer books/buy less outdoor gear!" But I feel I have the moral high ground. Fewer books, what a ridiculous idea.
Still, we were fine. Everything had a corner. Books accumulated. The spillway spilled. But we could clean up. There was enough open space for three sweeps of a lawn mower should we ever choose to mow our hardwood floors.
There was one last hold out to our younger years: The bedroom.
Well, our bed arrived yesterday.
Mahogany, platform-style, vaguely Asian in design.
I cleared out the bedroom, scrubbed the floor and walls, and spent a happy couple of hours with screw drivers, cursing quietly as I squared the headboard to the frame and realized I'd better start with the foot of the bed. I used to work construction and know a carpenter's most important tool is a finely honed collection of four-letter words --
It's gorgeous. Elegant. Last night I lit candles and felt like I was sleeping in a hotel.
The cat has been playing, leaping from the bed to race across the open living room and back again. He's delighted. Every time I walk by the bedroom I smile, That looks nice.
But now the laundry basket won't fit. A queen-sized bed seems to be slightly wider than a queen-sized futon frame and the manufacturer was never able to give me exact measurements. The laundry looked terrible there anyway. The ficus has been kicked out and I knew my wicker basket would have to go. The ficus is parked by the computer, the mirror doesn't work on that wall any more and --
-- my god this apartment is small.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 09:15 pm (UTC)We still could mow the floor if need be.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:03 pm (UTC)It's a little bit scary that I don't have to... *giggles*
Fitting large things into small spaces can be tricky. I hope you find a nice new apartment soon :) It sounds like yours is getting a bit... cramped ;)
Gosh, imagine being like me. I can't resist EITHER books OR outdoor gear.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 11:00 pm (UTC)I think when we move we're going to be floored at how much we've fit into such a small space. Though most apartments close to the city are miniscule. I'm steadfastedly refusing to move to where we'd have to commute. Nuh-uh, no way, no thank you. I've done the commuter lifestyle and I'm done with it.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 11:53 pm (UTC)I think when we move we're going to be floored at how much we've fit into such a small space.
Um. Okay. Courtesy of someone who's moved residences eleven times in the last four years:
1st principle of moving.
How much stuff do you think you have? Let's call this quantity X.
How much stuff you really have = X^(number of years you've lived there).
Yes. You're going to be floored. I think it's safe to say.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 07:56 pm (UTC)I just had the building I live in bought out by some consortium, and am dreading the possibility of a rent increase or the place going condo (not sure if they can do the latter since the building is on the National Register of Historic Places). If it happens, I will have to adopt a ruthless trash and burn policy to fit everything back into an under 1,000 square foot apartment. Though on the plus side, no more 160 mile/day commute.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:29 pm (UTC)*bursts out laughing*
I am impressed you have that much outdoor stuff in your place. How do you do it?
Normal people have linen closets.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:58 pm (UTC)*SPRINGS! into action*
Happy moving! A two bedroom would solve all of your woes, yes?
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:11 pm (UTC)Good luck on the expansion, though. I hope you find something great that doesn't break you. :)
Angie
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Date: 2007-06-29 06:45 am (UTC)You're another craft person? Doesn't that make for a spectacular mess? I mean, you have to leave it out when you're in the middle of a project and that can go on for months. :D
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 06:52 am (UTC)And yeah, our third bedroom is a sort of combination library and craft room. Most of it is a couple of office tables that are mine, with my sewing machine (piece of crap, need a new one) on one and both also covered with stuff, and a low bookcase full of craft books (the older ones, not counting the two tall stacks of books on the sewing machine table) and some supplies. There are half-done projects on the floor and in boxes and on the tables, my embroidery stand is between the two tables next to the one chair (I turn it one of three ways depending on what I'm doing) and there's a high-intensity lamp clamped to the non-sewing-machine table 'cause the torchere in the corner just isn't anywhere near good enough for fine work. Oh, and there's an ironing board in front of the wall of tall bookcases (the library part of the room). And yeah, stuff's been out for months. [laugh/flail] Not only because I work on things whenever, as the inspiration hits me, but because, as with most other things in our place, there's just nowhere to put stuff away. I couldn't clean up if I wanted to. :P
Angie
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:22 pm (UTC)which we can't park in anymore.I'm so ashamed.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:51 pm (UTC)The first couple months after we brought all the stuff in was a bit of pain (though it was in our pre-furniture era so that helped us ignore the pile in the corner). WG spent the money on shelving units from IKEA and managed to find some unused space in the far corner of the kitchen: add a cheap springloaded curtain bar and some fabric, and we've created another storage area for tools and whatnot.
We call it "the back forty."
I admit, he has a talent for fitting stuff into small spaces, and looks through those "storage solution!" catalogues that we'll be getting forever now.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 06:49 pm (UTC)I'd underestimated.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 08:47 pm (UTC)The next question, of course, is: "Do you NEED all of them?"
no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 09:43 pm (UTC)Then there's my free-standing tent that I use for retreats because I can sit up in it easy, while he has his much lighter tent (which I call "the coffin"). The third tent is owned by a friend and we've been trying to get rid of it but it's an old VE-25 so people aren't biting.
The sleeping bags, one is my expensive down bag, and the polartech synthetic bag for wet conditions that's not available on the market any more. He has his down bag for trips and a second down bag that's designed to be zipped to a coupler so the two of us can snuggle up together. I don't know what his third bag is, though it's probably synthetic.
Then, well, in my opinion cartridge stoves are unreliable pieces of crap so we can get rid of those two, but inexplicably he likes them (they're light and he takes longer trips than me). His white gas stove is heavy, I agree, but he's not touching mine because a) it's multi-fuel and I need it for Nepal, and b) he cranks down on the damn connections too hard and I can never get it apart afterward.
*shrugs*
Icarus
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Date: 2007-06-28 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:37 pm (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2007-06-28 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:44 pm (UTC)A second bedroom would be so great. I'd even welcome the arguments over how to use the space. ;)
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:42 pm (UTC)And, hey. I managed to squeeeeeze the laundry basket between the dresser closet and the bed, and it's covered by the curtains in front of the closet. (Knocked down the curtains in the process but I've got them back up.) It's so tight, changing the sheets is going to be a pain.
What surprises me is the kitty loves springing on top of the bed but he's shown no interest in hiding underneath.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 09:58 pm (UTC)It sounds like you don't have enough room to put roll-out storage under the bed - that would solve the accessibility argument. But, can you at least get him to admit that only the seasonally appropriate jackets need to be accessible? All the winter weight stuff could go into vacuum bags and under the bed now, then trade places with the summer stuff later. Those "vacuum bags" come in all styles/sizes/price ranges. I use the kind you just roll up - they're cheap but don't compress as much as the pricier types. Do you have anything hanging on the back of the door? You can put a laundry bag there instead of dealing with the basket.
I use my under-the-bed for out of season linens and for "hiding" presents. I collect up stocking stuffers all year, and other oddments that get disbursed at various times. I have a linen closet, but it's in the boy's room - I'm not brave enough to store stuff there that would require me to enter his room on a regular basis.
The bed sounds lovely :) I recently did all "hotel" linens for our bed. A little slice of luxury every night.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 10:06 pm (UTC)Unless you count rain and less rain. :D
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 10:44 pm (UTC)and no, IKEA don't pay me. Quite the reverse, in fact...
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 10:49 pm (UTC)We have a run to IKEA scheduled next weekend (oh yes, I've become the master of the allen wrench, though my latest favorite catalogue is www.homedecorators.com). This weekend WG's backpacking. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 09:06 pm (UTC)Yes, I do know what seam sealing a tent is (one of these days, our tent will recieve that treatment - hey, we've only had that tent for...urgh...3 or 4 years?)
my house is a highly engineered construct of interdependent clutter subgroups
*g*
no fear of opening the closets; its the desk and counter top you need to worry about. that L-island thing collects stuff at an alarming rate and I'm always surprised to realize that it somehow magically re-clutters itself even after it gets cleaned off
it must be a clutter magnet...
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 09:09 pm (UTC)thanks for the laugh! I was snickering the whole way through...
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Date: 2007-06-28 11:02 pm (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 02:53 pm (UTC)Also...
When he's not buying himself jackets he's buying me jackets.
Sell on Ebay? Honestly, if you don't need it...
no subject
Date: 2007-06-30 07:30 pm (UTC)Pictures?
And I completely agree that no home is complete without a kitty.