847 Seventeenth Avenue

I mentioned the news of our move in my prior post. Here's a picture from the listing. I just can't seem to get around to taking a picture before dark. We traded the beautiful charm of our Harvard/Yale neighborhood for an unremarkable, but spacious and well-maintained 1960's rambler in the Upper Avenues.

For us, the trade has been worth it. The kids have room to run and play. They have mentioned everyday that they prefer the new house to the old one. I asked Kate why she preferred this house and she said, "I just do." I have yet to get a more specific response.

We're now on the North side of the University of Utah instead of the South side. My commute to work is only a half mile longer, but there will be no more biking to work. There was no noticeable change in elevation from home to work in the old house. Quite the opposite in the new house. It's all down hill to work and all uphill home. I could get to work in ten minutes, but it would take two hours to walk my bike up the hills to get home. Oh well.

I believe all blog readers are familiar with our history of home renovations. This is the fourth apartment/home we have owned. We have gut-renovated three kitchens, not to mention dozens of other major, major renovation projects (two entire apartments, bathrooms, updated electrical systems and lighting, etc., etc.). Well, let me tell you about this house. It needs no renovating. Yes, you read that right. It needs no renovating. We have a few ideas for improvements and some spaces are dated (the entire basement), but nothing is unlivable and nothing needs to be done any time soon. Hallelujah!

Now, a bit of history on our transient past. 847 Seventeen Avenue is our eleventh mailing address in nine years of marriage. There was our first apartment in Provo (one semester). Then Grandma Erickson's basement (half a summer). Jerusalem (half a summer). 122nd St., NYC (one year, 300 square feet). 119th St., NYC (two years, 600 square feet). 84th St., NYC (our first purchase, two years, 450 square feet). 87th St., NYC ("temporary" while we renovated our second purchase, one year). 93rd St, NYC (gut-renovated, loved-it, had a backyard in NYC!, one year). My parent's house (moved to Utah, looking for a home, six months). Hubbard Avenue (two years). Seems as though two years has been our limit. Well, not anymore. I expect we'll stay in this one much, much longer. Perhaps grow old here?

We purchased this home from a couple who had lived here for twenty years. They raised, I think it was, six kids in this home. They have a second residence in the State, but are leaving to China to teach English for six months. When the sale was a go, they let their kids take what they wanted. Then they held an estate sale. They put a price tag on everything in the home. They let us come for first pick, and we bought a few pieces of furniture. As I browsed the home and all of its contents I thought about how strange, perhaps sad, it might feel for the owners to shed their belongings and say goodbye to everything. Then I had another thought. How liberating! My mind fast forwarded twenty years. I'm looking forward to what the next twenty years of my life will hold. I expect I will enjoy it. Much of that time might be in this home. Then, well, leaving the tangible stuff behind and going on an adventure with my husband sounds like a grand idea. But, for now, I'll enjoy the present. The present in this unremarkable, but spacious and well-maintained 1960's rambler in the Upper Avenues of Salt Lake City.

Come visit. We have a guest room.