Here's the story:
My husband Gus and I moved to Philadelphialand on May 12, 2008. We drove here from Portland, Oregon in our Volkswagen Golf loaded down with the precious items we felt simply could not be left in our Vantucky storage unit awaiting our return to the Great Northwest. Our modern day jalopy carried, among other things, a Singer Featherweight, an All Clad roasting pan, one half drunk bottle of Belle de Brillet, six Swedish Dala horses, a yoga mat and three houseplants, including a St. Patrick's Day clover Gus bought me in 1998. What didn't we bring? A lot. A TV, a bed, cups and saucers and, regrettably, our Kitchenaid Mixer...poor thing had to be dropped off at the storage unit on the way out of town as it simply would not fit. Yes, I considered holding it on my lap the entire way but unfortunately that spot was already taken by a copper stock pot, a Philadelphia guide book and a basket of various half-finished craft projects (more on those later).
And so, after a week on the seemingly endless horizontal cut of I-90 (Corn Palace anyone?), we arrived in Fluffya. We knew no one, had no idea where we would live, in fact, I had never even set foot in Pennsylvania. If I'm being perfectly honest, I know deep down I couldn't have pointed Philadelphia out on a map. After a perilous twenty minutes in the world's snaggliest Motel Six (yes, we found it) we upgraded to a Best Western across the street and set about finding a place to live amongst the 6 million folks already here. On May 15 (not bad, eh?) we moved into our current abode, a third floor walk-up in lovely little Ardmore on the Main Line just outside the city.
Over the last one year and 4 months I've hated this city and I've loved it. I've cursed it, hugged it, denied it, defended it and spit on it, sometimes all on the same day. At times I have felt like with this experience I've built more character than anyone, anywhere should be allowed to legally stockpile. I've lived outside my comfort zone for weeks on end. I've seen things I didn't know existed in this country. In between it all I've learned an incredible amount about myself and my world and I have had to question what I thought was unquestionable. If I hadn't moved here I would have been like every other west coaster who has "done" the east with a long drunk weekend in NYC and a high school band trip to DC. Sorry ladies, but Seattle just isn't the latest and greatest, be all and end all we sometimes make it out to be. I came here with my nose in the air and I will leave humbled by the depth of beauty, history and experiences this area offers up. On these pages I hope to record what's left of our time here and what we plan to make of it.
They say timing is everything and of course I wish I would have been ultra cool and started this chronicle the very day we left Portland. But, I wasn't very blog-savvy then and I'm not much further along now. So, I start where I am today. Hot, humid and waiting on the perfection of the east coast fall. To make up for lost time on slow days in the city I'll recount the best of the best so far. In the meantime, I'll leave you with this simple photo - the view of our neighborhood on a quiet fall morning.
Thanks for reading.
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