We have moved. Thank the gods, it was relatively uneventful. (Two moves ago, we had to endure a lot of screaming in Russian about what to do about the broken family piano. Très stressful.)
The house is big enough to contain the seven of us comfortably, which is saying something. We also have a nice plot of land where the neighbours do not loom over us in a menacing fashion.
In order to get all of this on a budget in Southeast Oakville, we had to settle for some quirks.
Like the holy-mother-of-god staircase that greets you at the front door.
The real estate agent said that it a prospective buyer got a quote for $100,000 to reconfigure the thing due to the almighty catwalk above.
I think that quote is on glue, but it won’t be cheap to fix. So, I’m going to have to live with it. Perhaps we can stage a family production of Cats…
I plan to embrace my inner Carrington and Dynasty it up.
Think of the smug Christmas photo potential!
Classy (or should I say, Klassy?)
I will need to do something about the lighting, but doing this sucker in Schonbek won’t be cheap. Why did I think it was a good idea to leave investment banking to become a writer?
As many of you know, before joining this three ring circus, Mr. Dwell was busy with three boys of his own. (They were four men/Living all together/Yet they were all alone…) So that means we have 4 boys in the house and three pets.
I thought of simply taking a permanent room at The Dunes but instead made a She Space out of the dining room.
Behold my cabinet of curiosities filled with design and self-help books.
I went to my favourite consignment store and scored this peony floral handmade Barrymore sofa and matching chair for mucho cheapo.
I think it was owned by one of those little old ladies who covered her sofa in plastic. It still has the order slip attached from 1989, which was the year I graduated from high school.
She stole the little pillow for her own bed.
In the moving chaos, I also took on a new writing gig at 1010ParkPlace.com. I write about getting your life back together after your world has fallen apart. Fellow contributor and supermodel Kim Alexis and I are going to be besties, I just know it!
I’ve also been writing for HuffPo about the fresh hell of moving.
Now, I’m tired from all of the bragging.
Time to unpack the rest of the booze and have a nap.