You walk around the back of this house and get to a small staircase and go down to the front door, which opens into the kitchen. To the left as you walk in is a door to a utilities room, with a washer and dryer we share with the upstairs tenants. There is also space we can store stuff in, shared with upstairs.
The kitchen has yucky orange laminate on the floor and nice, new granite counter tops in a horrible orange-brown pattern. The cupboards are white, and the fridge is new and nice. Next to the sink is the bathroom. Why is the bathroom next to the sink? Well, there is no sink in the bathroom. So the bathroom has this shower with a massive hole for the drain, a toilet....and the sink is in the kitchen.
From the kitchen you go into the BIG living room with hardwood flooring a big old dusty blue area rug, and from there you go to a big bedroom with a big closet and mustard yellow carpet.
We can start moving stuff in August 1st! I am so excited!!! I know it's a little on the very ghetto side, but it's our first place, and we're college kids, so I think it'll be wonderful.
3 comments:
Being a young married is all about the ghetto apartments! You should check out a talk that Jeffrey and Pat Holland gave in the 80's when he was the Pres. of BYU. They talk about that time in their lives and how happy it was. It will be such a special memory for you two also. I'll have to see if I can locate a copy of the talk. Congratulations on your first married home!
It will be wonderful. It doesn't matter where you live. Its a new life and its cool! I loved our first place. It was small...and incredibly hott in the Summer, but I loved it! I wanna move back because I have such good memories of our first place together! Have fun!!
This is a long post but I wanted to have you read this exerpt from the talk I mentioned...
Pat: May we share one concluding experience which, although taken from our marriage, may have broader application. Twenty-two years ago, Jeff and I made our way to Brigham Young University, marriage certificate in hand. We put all we owned into a secondhand Chevrolet and headed for Provo. We were terrified—two little hayseeds from St. George, Utah.
The housing people were very helpful to provide us lists of apartments. The registration staff helped straighten out some transfer credits. The folks in the employment center suggested where we might work. We pieced together some furniture and found some friends. Then we splurged—we left our $45-a-month, two-room apartment to have an evening meal in the Wilkinson Center cafeteria. We were impressed and exhilarated and still terrified.
Jeff: I remember one of those nights walking in a beautiful summer’s evening up from our apartment on Third North and First East to the brow of the hill where the BYU campus begins. Pat and I were arm in arm and very much in love. But school had not started, and there seemed to be so very much at stake. We were nameless, faceless, meaningless little undergraduates seeking our place in the sun. And we were newly married, each trusting our future so totally to the other, yet hardly aware of that at the time.
I remember standing about halfway between the Maeser Building and the president’s home and being suddenly overwhelmed with the challenge I felt—new family, new life, new education, no money, and no confidence. I remember turning to Pat and holding her in the beauty of that August evening and fighting back the tears. I asked, “Do you think we can do it? Do you think we can compete with all these people in all these buildings who know so much more than we do and are so able? Do you think we’ve made a mistake? Do you think we should withdraw?”
I guess that was the first time I saw what I would see again and again and again in her—the love, the confidence, the staying power, the reassurance, the careful handling of my fears and the sensitive nurturing of my faith, especially faith in myself. She (who must have been terrified herself, especially now that she was linked to me forever) set aside her doubts, slammed shut the hatch on the airplane, and grabbed me by the safety belt. “Of course we can do it,” she said. “Of course we’re not going home.” Then she gently reminded me that surely others were feeling the same thing, that what we had in our hearts was enough to get us through, that a Father in Heaven would be helping.
Pat: If you stand on the south patio of the president’s home, you can see exactly the spot two vulnerable, frightened, newly married BYU students stood that night, fighting back the tears and facing the future with all the faith they could summon. Some nights we stand and look out on that spot—usually when things have been a little challenging—and we remember those very special days.
Doesn't it make you thrilled for this next chapter in your life. They did it and so can you!
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