Writings from my little corner of modern domesticity.

One Room at a Time

It’s an odd thing, but I must say that right now, the part of the apartment I’m most satisfied with is our fridge. Not necessarily the inside; things haven’t quite settled in there just yet. But the outside is, I think, well-organized and cheery-looking (photos to follow later when I am less embarrassed about the general state of the apartment).

The front isn’t too cluttered up with papers and things, but still has a mix of functional and purely enjoyable content. My cookbooks front-and-center up top add color to the kitchen and hide most of the stuff we store up there. Not because it’s messy, but because, well, it’s not attractive. It’s cereal boxes and my lunch box- not much to look at. But the cookbooks, besides being easily accessible, add flair to the little space.

And did I mention this appliance, too, is larger than what we previously had? Because it is. Which is also nice, because I felt like I was forever digging around in ours to find space whenever we went grocery shopping and brought home any quantity of things which needed to be either refrigerated or frozen. Now I’m only rummaging around because I can’t seem to find homes for things in a way that I’m completely happy with (or because when I do, Ryan doesn’t put them back where they were and I need to rearrange. Again).

I know I still haven’t gotten any photos up of the new place after our stuff made its way in, so to hold you over until I do, here is a photo of the “stuff in, but still homeless” phase from either the day we moved in or the day after:

The good news is that there are now only three boxes still in that pile. The bad news is that there are two boxes of those three which I have no idea where they will find homes.|


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