HEYYYY, BROOKLYN!

There was this moment, before we'd even seen the place, where I knew it was a foregone conclusion and I was already feeling pretty apologetic toward my husband. Moving is expensive, we weren't going to be at Education Level Emergency Code Red until next year, when Huck starts kindergarten at the failing elementary school we're currently zoned for, and I had promised Brandon I would be super critical, only considering a place if it checked off every. single. one. of our boxes. It had to be perfectly serendipitous and fall-in-your-lap easy, it couldn't be more expensive than our place is now, we needed lots of storage options; it had to be a total upgrade. We needed perfection, pretty much. But as I was walking to meet the broker with Huck before the showing, we passed a street light at the corner that had "IDAHO" scrawled across it in spray paint. And that's when I knew. I knew the way you know about a good melon. The place was meant to be ours and that was all there was to it. I believe in signs (and in making rash decisions), and clearly someone was trying to tell me something. So I texted Brandon to apologize in advance, because no matter what the place looked like now, I was going to have to sign on it anyway. Objectivity had completely flown out the door. 

But luckily then God said, "LET THERE BE EXPOSED BRICK." 

And he saw that it was good. 

And then God said, "LET THERE BE NATURAL LIGHT, AND ORIGINAL HARDWOODS AND FIXTURES." 

Amen, and Glory to God in the Highest.

Done every box got checked, son. More space? Check. Full-size Washer/Dryer in the unit? CHECK and CHECK. School district? Impeccable. Charming Neighborhood? YES WHY NOT. Even the boxes I hadn't thought to make boxes, such as Enormous Bathroom with a Claw Foot Tub.... 

Ack! Check!

(There is a shower head, you just can't see it from this shot.)

Or the box for rooftop access and a sick view....

WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE.

We keep shaking our heads at each other, because fortune has favored us this summer in the kind of way that's really overkill. The good times are smacking us in the face. We have been so lucky. It's not often that life decides to be so civilized to a person, and one thing I'm always taken with is how, when the good times come (especially after a particularly crap time), they really do seem to come with gusto. I wouldn't can't call it karma, because that implies I've done something to deserve this--when if you ask me, I don't think any of us deserve anything that we do or don't get--but I do think that maybe the Universe (just like a Lannister) always pays his debts. ;)

So thank you for this one, Universe. The Holbrooks are much obliged. Not to mention extreeemely flippin giddy. :)