We are moving. We love our home, but the hubby has an exciting new career opportunity so we are relocating to San Francisco. I’ve been busy boxing up all our belongings and planning our new space. I’ve been trying not to feel heartbroken about leaving our beloved tower.
I try hard not to get too attached to stuff. Clearly, the important things are that my husband and I will be together, we are embarking on an exciting new adventure, and we are bound to come out of this as more interesting people. Right? This is what I am telling myself.
The part of the tower I am most attached to is my kitchen. My kitchen in compact but perfectly designed. I have accomplished great things in this kitchen. I’ve learned to bake bread, created 150 whoopie pies for a friend’s wedding, made Thanksgiving, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Easter, and Christmas feasts, and made countless cozy meals for two.
When looking for apartments in San Francisco, my brilliant husband, who had to do the leg-work while I scrutinized Craigslist and the photos he sent (Thank you, iPhone!), knew that the kitchen was the most important element for me. Our new apartment, though small, has a very serviceable kitchen.
In an effort to make this move as simple as possible, we have placed a grocery order with Safeway to be delivered upon our arrival. We ordered the basics: milk, bread, eggs, bananas, cat food, cat litter, and butter. I just added chocolate chips to the order so I can whip up a batch of Platinum Blondies, our favorite comfort sweet. I think if I can make the kitchen feel, and smell, like mine right away it shouldn’t be too hard to make a new city feel like home. What can I say, some people burn sage and chant to bless a new home, but a dusting of flour and the whir of my trusty Kitchen Aid works for me.