Journal Topic #3: Describe a place from your past.

310 Hart St, Brooklyn, NY (2005-2006)

Jeff and I were so blessed to find a fantastic apartment when we moved to NYC. Before describing the actual apartment, I must briefly describe how we came to find it. We had decided that we wanted to move to NYC. We had both dreamed of living there one day, and we decided that since we didn’t have kids yet, the time to move was now. When I told my employer at the time that we were moving out there and we had no jobs, didn’t know anyone, and didn’t have a place to live, they offered me a position managing a bookstore on the Upper Westside. We were so blessed that I was able to move out there with a job, which helped greatly with the moving costs!

We began looking for apartments right away. We really wanted to stay in Manhattan, preferably close to where I would be working. We could find NOTHING! Nearly every lead Jeff pursued was shot down when the landlord found out we were married. No one would rent a studio or 1-bedroom apartment (the only sizes in our budget) to a married couple. We were shocked. We had been staying in a hotel, but our time was quickly come to an end there, so we needed to find something…fast! Much to our dismay, we decided we needed to look outside of Manhattan.

At 6am one morning, we began looking in the other boroughs. Jeff started with Brooklyn. He found something on Craig’slist that seemed perfect. He called on it. The landlord, again, seemed hesitant—thinking it would be much too small for a married couple. Jeff went out to look at it. It was perfect! I went back with him the next day. I loved it, too! We got it because we were the first ones to respond to the ad, come see the prop, fill out an application, and pay a deposit. Renting an apartment in NYC is unique—competition is fierce, you must come cash-in-hand.

Turns out the Lord really wanted us there, in that neighborhood (or at least in that branch’s boundaries), because shortly after we moved, Jeff was called to be the branch Clerk, and I was called to be the branch Relief Society president. What blessings we received from those callings.

But I digress…now to the description of the apartment. It was a brand new brownstone in the Bedford- Stuyvesant neighborhood, I think. It was on the border of several neighborhoods. Anyway, some would say it was scary neighborhood, but we always felt very comfortable there—even when we had to occasionally walk at night. Around the corner was a deli/bodega whose owner/manager really took care of us. Once we went in late at night for some sandwiches. He walked us out and then stood at the door, watching us until we went around the corner. That may seem creepy to some, but it was actually very comforting to know that someone was watching our backs.

Our new brownstone was in the midst of a long line of brand new developments. On the other side of the street were older, somewhat run-down brownstones, but these new ones really cleaned up the neighborhood.

Our apartment was a second floor walk-up. The door into our apartment opened into a hallway. If you went to the left, the bathroom was at the end of the hall. If you went to the right, there was a small entryway that led into the kitchen. The kitchen wasn’t exactly big, but it was open. No one had ever lived in this apartment before us, so everything was shiny and new. There was actually a good deal of cupboard space. The countertops were marble (or looked marble anyway).

The kitchen opened up into the living room. At the other end, there were pop-out bay windows overlooking the street. The living room had hardwood floors and was nearly as big as our tiny 1-bedroom apartment in Minneapolis! We filled this room with a small dining room table set, computer desk, and 2 click-clack sofas. It was the perfect size!

Off the side of the living room was the bedroom. The bedroom was carpeted and bigger than a standard room. It could have easily fit a queen-size bed (possibly king-size), dresser, oversized chair, small desk. We didn’t really do much with this room when we lived there—just an air mattress where the bed would’ve gone. J I don’t really remember, but I think the closet must have been a walk-in. I can’t visualize where else we would have unpacked our clothes.

I wanted to post some fun pictures of the apartment to complement this post, but they were lost when our hard drive crashed a year or so ago. We lost practically everything from our time in NYC. I just remembered that I had some pictures of our apartment in Brooklyn on another blog. Click here for a quick glimpse.

Reading & Crying

Recently, my old friend, Jill, recommended a book for me to read. She said it would make me “think, laugh, and cry.” I have not had a chance to read that book yet, but her recommendation made me think about another book and a funny story about reading & crying in public.

Some background…

When I was a teenager, there was one book, Charly by Jack Weyland, which I read over and over again. It was a very quick read. I loved this book and would read it whenever I felt a little down and needed a good cry. It has a very sad ending.

Fast forward to 2006…

When I was living in New York, I was working closely with one of the senior missionaries, Sister Scott. She told me that Jack Weyland and his wife were coming to NYC to serve a mission. I was SO excited!! I bought a new copy of Charly—hoping that I would have the opportunity to meet him and get a signed copy of this cherished book.

Jeff and I were taking a trip somewhere. I can’t remember where, but I know we were flying out of JFK. We were getting comfortable in our seats, and I pulled out this book to read during our flight. I had forgotten how funny the bulk of the book was; I had only remembered the sad ending. I was really getting into it when we were de-boarded because of a mechanical (I think) problem with the plane.

We were told to wait in the gate area. So, I continued reading my book—laughing quietly to myself.

Like I said, it was a quick read. Before I knew it, I was at the last chapter. This is where it gets really sad. Even though, I’d read the book many, many times before, and I totally knew what was coming, the tears still began to fall as soon as I turned the page to that final chapter.

It’s a lot more difficult for me to cry quietly to myself, because my eyes get all red and puffy, and my face gets a little blotchy. It’s pretty obvious to onlookers that I’m crying—even if I’m not making a lot of noise.

As I’m reading, Jeff leaned over to me and asked me if I was almost finished.

When I asked him why, he told me that there was a little girl that was just staring at us. Maybe she had never been as engaged in a book as I currently was, but the situation as she saw it was:

Here is a woman who is very clearly in tears because our flight was delayed and maybe there was something going on between her and her husband because she is trying to hide her tears behind that book.

Of course, I don’t know exactly what this girl was thinking, but I do know that she kept staring. She also whispered something to her mother and pointed in our direction.

Maybe next time I ought to read Charly in the comfort of my own home.

I never did end up meeting Jack Weyland, but I did get my copy of Charly signed. Now the book has become even more special to me.

More Hardy!

Friday was my last day as the manager of the Augsburg Fortress bookstore at Union Theological Seminary. It was also my last day to see Hardy! I'm certainly going to miss this little boy. He is so smart and so cute!



His dad was telling us how he had helped make pancakes that morning. He was listing off items that Hardy got for the recipe: flour, sugar, eggs. Then Hardy said, "Baking soda." It's amazing the vocabulary that he already has.

Since it was my last day, I let the new manager run things, and I took a few minutes to play with this little guy; we read a couple of little books.

Hardy!

When I think back on my time at Union managing the bookstore, I will always fondly remember my little pal, Hardy. He is quite an icon of the seminary. He has his rounds each day where he goes and says hello. He always stops in the bookstore—pointing to the sign, “O…open” (or “C…closed” during those sad times when he comes before the store is open or after it has closed).

He enjoys doing Google searches on the computer for pictures of his favorite animals. Usually he just comes to me and says, “Crinda…horseys.” I don’t really get the fascination, since every day Google finds the same old boring pictures, but he is entranced. Anyway, it’s fun to have him climb on my lap and look at the computer. Makes me even feel a little motherly. Someday, I’m sure I’ll have my own kids wanting to look at the same old boring things (pictures, stories, etc).

This kid is full of energy and very talkative. It’s always a joy when he pops in for a visit. He will be 2 in August and already has quite the vocabulary!