I'm in

The new place. The permanent place, the at least-two-years-with-an-option-to-renew place. It's two-level renovated place in the old building with the blue windows and door. Mine, for now.



You approach through a blue gate and amble down a walkway of Jerusalem stone to my blue door. Inside is peace and quiet and a mess, as I unpack my clothing and belongings. Rubber bands and plastic bags, the detritus of packing, are strewn everywhere.



Yet the miracle is that 22 hours after moving in I am sitting here writing. WiFi is connected, devices online. I've paid my realtor, enrolled in my  kupat cholim (HMO) - I've even done a load of laundry in the mysterious European washer and dryer.

Without ice trays, there's no ice for iced coffee, and due to some mechanical glitch, there is no hot water. There are ice cube trays at the hardware store just 3 blocks away* and the handyman has been summoned.



Tomorrow, I'm told, the new sofa arrives, so ulpan is delayed another day.
לאט לאט   Slowly, slowly, as we say in Hebrew.



*I've already been to the hardware store twice today, once to buy my granny cart (how we transport groceries in a walking city), and once for lightbulbs.


And, naturally, a postscript: Just met a neighbor on her way to a new apartment around the corner who explained why I heard Pharrell Williams "Happy" loud and clear both today and the day I first saw the apartment.  It is used as the bell for the school around the corner. (To think, I was worried I had a bad neighbor.)