The other day John and I went over to the new building. I am not sure what to call it. It’s not a house. It’s a 2-flat. It’s not very new. It was built around 1910, I think. And, technically, it’s not even ours. But, since the seller and contractor that’s rehabbing the place has allowed us to specify certain finishing touches and since both of us feel very committed to making a home together there, something neither of us would have imagined a year ago, it is our new building.

John has employed a range of excuses to go to our soon to be Whipple Street address, surreptitiously to deliver things like granite samples for the workmen, but mostly because he has liked to see the progress the workers seem to make every day. And my head has been entertaining various space-planning scenarios and the happy challenge of combining two households into one.

Life has been a whirlwind since we saw the building about a month ago. I think we both understood we were on course to live together some day, but did not expect our recent walk-throughs with Teresa, our agent, would result in anything beyond a good education on the market. But when we saw this very Chicago style brown brick two-flat being transformed into a duplexed owners’ unit with beautiful 3-bedroom apartment on the top floor (Did someone say rental income?), we couldn’t not move forward.

And I can sense both John’s and my heart are quietly glowing about totally different things that home represents to us.

I think John is excited about having a place to hook up his amp and play his guitar REALLY LOUD. I suppose he also relishes the thought that his current landlord can’t admonish him for leaving his boots in the hallway or smoking a rare cigarette within 20 yards of the premises. Yes, I also have the feeling that HOME is where no one else can tell you what you can and can’t do. But one of the things I am most excited about, relative to my move to Whipple, is that I will have my very own washer and dryer in our unit.

Isn’t that funny? That of the many things I can get excited about – a back porch where we can have martinis while we barbecue, or getting to choose paint colors, or having the space to actually have a piano – that a new top loader would be the feature that transports me?

Of course, there’s a practical side to this new situation. Not having to pack up four loads of laundry every couple weeks then drive to a Laundromat in order to have clean clothes has a lot of appeal. The idea of doing a load without a lot of planning, or being able to leave clothes in the washer all night if you don’t want to wait until the spin cycle has been completed — these kinds of little things feel so liberating.

It’s funny how small things can affect your sense of freedom so much; like being able to complete a work assignment from home, or discovering a time-saving short-cut to a common errand destination, or being able to wash your underwear while wearing your last clean pair.

Watching over your wash, rinse, and spin cycles from the comfort of your own couch is no small thing.