Our guy. x.o.
Happy Father’s Day!
Our guy. x.o.
Family
Weekly Photo Challenge: Room
The master bedroom.
Torch Lake, Michigan
This week’s challenge is Room. This photo was taken last summer at my husband’s grandparents’ home, where they had lived since 1971. My husband and I slept in the twin beds that were in the master bedroom, the “butterfly room.” The house was on the market and sold shortly after our trip.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Split-Second Story
This Week’s Challenge: To document a moment in through a single image.
Watching the thunderstorm.
Grosse Pointe Farms, Michigan
Unicorns at Lunchtime
Me (to P, who got up from the table): Hey, what are you doing? You’re not excused.
P: Well….I just had to peek out the window to see if my unicorn was trotting by and going over to the neighbor’s house, because if he IS… then I need to go downstairs to the fence because he’s looking for me.
Me:
In Search of Coffee Part II: Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company
Last weekend, the whole family piled into the car for a ride to Detroit. I’m still trying to get my bearings, so my husband took us the long way into town – Lake Shore to Jefferson, and then we drove around downtown and up Woodward to Midtown. I’d read a few things about Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company and wanted to see if it would live up to the hype, so we stopped for a snack and of course, a cup of coffee.
My husband ordered a pour-over and I wavered between a cappuccino and a macchiato before choosing the later. I got an almond croissant, the girls got blueberry muffins and my husband had some kind of apple pastry (I think).
The cafe sits on a corner near the DIA/Detroit Institute of Arts Museum. It’s a beautiful space, with exposed brick walls, wooden floors and ceilings and industrial accents everywhere. There is bar seating at the counter and the main room has several community tables and some smaller tables and chairs off to the side. There was also outdoor seating, as well as bar stool seating along the main window inside. The people there were pretty hipster, but not to the point of being annoying. Quite. The staff was also hipster, but not pretentious, which was refreshing.
My husband loved his coffee. He said it was rich and thick, like you could almost chew it. Mine was excellent as well, although next time I’ll get the cappuccino. The macchiato was perfectly made, but I love steamed milk when it’s done right and I’m sure this place would do it right. The pastries were okay. Nothing to write home about. But I didn’t mind, as we were there for the coffee, anyway.
Typically, this cafe isn’t the best place to bring kids, but because it was a Sunday afternoon, they didn’t have loud music playing (which I’m told they sometimes do) or too much of a crowd (which I’m told they often have). Unfortunately it’s too far from home to be a regular hangout for me, but we will definitely be back.
Moving Day
Friday was moving day. A big, bright orange van with the words, “San Francisco Bay Area” pulled up in front of the apartment a little after 8:30 in the morning. It took them all day to unload (I think they left at 5:30pm-ish).
My husband said the movers (the same crew moved us out of our SF place) kept commenting on how heavy the boxes were. “In my 35 years on the job, never have I…” and so forth. I did most of the packing. Whoops. But absolutely nothing broke. Except when I dropped part of the espresso machine as I was taking it out of the box. Yeah, well.
The first time I walked through the apartment, I was underwhelmed. No closet in the second bedroom (unless you call a 6-inch deep x 4-foot wide space a closet) and a somewhat similar “closet” in the “master” bedroom. The kitchen was tinier than I thought (and most of the counter space was taken up by a behemoth microwave from the ’80s). And there were dead flies all over the attic (which made the baby cry and want to go home).
Looking at the apartment from the backyard. Second floor.
After my husband arrived (five days after I did), he and Sam the Labrador slept at the apartment, while the girls and I continued to stay with his mom (so much easier to be in a furnished home with a stocked fridge, especially with little ones).
The girls and I still haven’t moved in officially. The fridge and the washing machine are both on the fritz (to be fixed tomorrow). Not to mention the boxes everywhere. But I’m already growing fond of the place. I managed to fit all my cooking stuff (meaning the stuff I didn’t put in storage), save a couple bulky items (slow cooker, mixer), into the tiny kitchen. We figured out solutions for the clothes situation and the attic is a super play area for the girls (and it has air conditioning!).
Me and Sam in the backyard on moving day.
And the backyard. Oh my gosh. Having the girls be able to go downstairs on their own (carpeted, not scary stairwell inside of the house) is a million times better than our situation in San Francisco. And I can see them from the kitchen window. Dream come true.
A lot of our things we allocated for the apartment didn’t fit into the small space. And I kind of love that. I loved putting books, artwork, clothes, dishes, back into boxes and labeling them “storage.” I loved the process of “no, we don’t need that.” I feel clean. And I feel like, yes, we can move from a 1700-square foot home to an 800-square foot apartment and live to tell about it. Very excited to move in (tomorrow?) and really get this adventure started.
Pointes of View 