Before After
Several posts ago, I wrote of our special newfound apartment — a beautiful, Mediterranean-style loft with a plant hanging around, an old tile floor and crisp, golden sunshine pouring in from the high ceiling windows.
A few months later, we’re all moved in. And just last night, we finally met our neighbors. All is well — I’m sitting in my comfortable chair in my writing corner (everyone needs a good writing or reading corner, with a spot to put their feet up), and Tal is creating lesson plans for her first year as a full-time English teacher, with school starting tomorrow. The air conditioner is on, the refrigerator is stocked, our artwork is hung on the walls. We’re at home. But how we got here, exactly, was a rough ride. A rough, and bloody journey.
Here’s what happened.
Tal and I got back to Israel and immediately began preparing for the move. We got our new keys, bagged up our belongings and, over three torturous, hot days, transported everything from Yehuda Halevi in central Tel Aviv to Kerem Ha’Temanim, next to the sea. Most was moved with the help, and car, of Tal’s cousin Ami. A few bags rode with me on my bike, which made for one of my more treacherous rides through the city, and the rest arrived by the arm full, usually mildly damp from our sweat. Several of our conditions for moving in — a new coat of paint, a new lock for the outside door — hadn’t been completed, but we figured we’d have our landlord at work as we moved in. Continue reading













