House Tour

One of the challenges of moving from Knoxville to Arkadelphia was going from a 900 square foot townhouse with ample amounts of storage for all my Christmas decorations to a 600 square foot apartment with one closet of storage. 

My mother and I drove down together in her car, while Dad pulled a 14' U-Haul towing Matt's car. Meanwhile Matt had the cushy job of cleaning our old apartment while my parents and I spent the week moving into the apartment. 

I'm not going to lie, I was a bit hesitant about spending seven hours in a car with my mother. My sister likes to time how long Mom and I can be around each other before we start bickering (very lovingly, if I might add.) We normally last anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour.

Surprisingly, the drive down was flawless. No arguing, no turning the radio up so we didn't have to speak, and no white-knuckling the steering wheel while gritting my teeth. We listened to a couple of episodes of This American Life  (Mom: As long as its not like one of your father's British lectures. Me: It's called This American Life, Mom.) and just chatted the rest of the way. 

I wasn't incredibly impressed by the town as we made our way to the apartment, but I was trying to have a good attitude. Upon arriving at the apartment though, all I could think about was how in the world was I going to fit all our stuff in this tiny space.

I may have lied down on the floor in our bedroom and cried. 

Fortunately, my mother flew into crisis mode and began pointing out all the "great" things about the space. 

"The carpet feels so nice! And the manager said it was only six months old!"

"It's not as old as I thought it would be! Only ten years?"

"You have a fan in the living room? That's going to be nice."

"Look how spacious your bathroom is!"

Dad arrived one hour later and we began to unload. 

I now present to you: Our current Gross house.

Welcome Home?

We carted all those plants from Knoxville. I'm proud to say we didn't lose one, even though they look a little peaked now in the dry Arkansas weather. We don't really miss sitting on the patio since we have a GIANT WALL thing blocking our lovely view of the parking lot.

Living Room & Dining Area. We clearly haven't gotten around to hanging some art... or figuring out where my computer is going.

I may have had another breakdown when my father so graciously pointed out how uncomfortable our antique furniture from my Nana is. He may have compared it to medieval torture devices. I may be exaggerating. We typically put giant pillows on the back of the seats and then sit on those red pillows, but that wouldn't look nice in my pictures now would it?

View from the couch AKA our view most evenings. That door leads to our one closet of storage. I'm not going to open it, mostly because it overwhelms me.

Our "vintage" wedding certificate and some homemade art. That saying is very comforting when I'm pacing the five feet that makes up my living room.

The partition between the living room and kitchen.

Our kitchen. There is no logical spot for the trashcan as we have to move it to open the fridge OR if we want to open the dishwasher. Also, there are only TWO drawers. 

I actually like how this looks, especially the vintage pot holding my utensils. The first time I felt like I was home was when I put our little green tea kettle on the stove. Mom saw me tearing up and thought I was crying about the apartment again, but I just murmured that this place could feel like home after all.

I was pretty jazzed to find out we have a double sink. It's the little things, y'all. 

We use a sofa table/console table for some extra counter space and as my happy place in the mornings. 

That tall spinning console has been in the Bible family for at least a decade. My sister Suzanne bought it when she moved to college. It is incredibly heavy and my father has moved it at least seven times. We came thisclose to pitching it, when Mom had the genius idea to use as a pantry. 

And until I find my vintage bar cart, we also use it as a makeshift bar area. Mom was thrilled. (Not really.)

Shout out to Matt's worm bin that made the move. It is another thing we don't really have a spot for, but he's worked so hard to cultivate those little guys, I didn't have the heart to tell him to leave them.

To the left of that doorway between the dining room and living room we have the bathroom... with no medicine cabinet. 

That's right... our bathroom is gnome themed. Guess who chose that? (Hint: not me.)

I keep that empty tin on top of the toilet because it amplifies the sound of my iPhone while I shower. I keep that gnome there because he makes me laugh. We actually haven't named him yet.

We go all out. That soap gnome was actually my first Valentine's gift to Matthew.

This is right outside the bathroom. The fuse box is behind that canvas I purchased during my Pier One tenure. It doesn't really go with anything we have anymore, but it looks pretty on its own. Fun fact: My father ran into that bookshelf every single night he was here. 

And we've entered the bedroom. Yes, that is a box under our end table turned night stand. Did I mention we're short on storage? 

This bedroom set is airplane themed. It was my great grandmothers, and my mother told me it was the last gift my great uncle gave her before she died. I have a matching full sized bed, but that won't be coming until we have a second bedroom. The brush and mirror belonged to my grandmother (whose photo is in the corner of the mirror).

Close up.

Some more handmade art. I stuck some letters on some old canvas art and spray painted it white, and then pulled the stickers off.  If you can't tell, I ran out of the letter "N" so I had to use a rotated "Z." I'm good like that.

View from the side of the bed. I almost typed "view from the window," but then I thought that sounded creepy. 

Our walk-in closet/Jefferson's bedroom.

The view from the closet. I feel obligated to tell you that Matt normally doesn't put his feet on the bed. I also feel obligated to point out that those are the despised New Balances/bane of my existence. Do you see the hole in the soles? WHY WON'T HE JUST THROW THEM AWAY?!

Jefferson.

There you have it. It's not completely done since we haven't even finished unloading my car with the last of what Matt brought down from Knoxville, but you get the idea. Maybe someday I'll be nostalgic for our tiny apartment in Arkadelphia, but until then, I'll be browsing homes on Realtor.com.