transitional bedding

when i was a sophomore in college, i had no bed. correction: i had no mattress. what i did have was, what we called, 'transitional bedding'. for the life of me, i cannot remember why i had no mattress, but for a whole semester, maybe two, i slept on a pile of blankets and pads and such, with my pretty little pillows against the corner of the wall, my down comforter spread out like a fluffy pillow. i remember that sometimes i'd tuck the edges under, to make it more full looking, and save room. it worked great. again, no idea why i had this bedding and not a mattress, but i know it worked for me, and although i would never do that again, i do look back on it fondly.

today was my last full day in the dahlia street house. as i write, i am on my bed, looking at an empty room (literally) with only a dresser (drawer free) and an armoire taking up space. the closet is empty, the furniture has no drawers, and my bed is clean underneath. it is bittersweet.

i moved into dahlia in april 2009, probably the biggest year of my life. i moved in on april 17, the day of a freak spring snow blizzard that made moving literally sopping wet and slushy- it was the kind of snow that couldn't make up it's mind between snow and rain, and accumulated in great, wet piles of slush. great move in day.

things with the ex were rocky then, and i was surprised when he showed up with his gloves and little mazda to help mom, stepdad and i move. we broke up one week later, the hardest thing that's ever happened to me in my life (and after four months in rehab, that's a big statement). i also had to take my counseling license exam two days after moving in, and i was sick with the worst cold/flu i've had in years. and i was house and dog sitting my boss' house. and i graduated a week later. and then i went alone (since i was now single) to santa barbara, during a huge fire, to run a half marathon i hadn't trained for. needless to say, it was a month hard to forget.

i am reminded of this as i move my things, one by one, out of dahlia and into my house. this new house is mine; i won't have to move again for awhile. which is so exciting, and a little sad. dahlia was good to me. it was a good transition for me: my first house on my own; my first real experience as a tenant working with a landlord; my first neighbors, my first porch, my first garden and my first landscaping. dahlia is where i moved in and survived a broken heart, literally crying myself to sleep. dahlia is where i began my baking as a real business, and sold my first cake (which i made while crying, loudly, like a broken animal, the day of the break up, the week of the move/graduation/dog sitting, just in case you're wondering). dahlia is where i met melis, the (first!) amazing roommate that made dahlia so fun. melis taught me what it was like to live with a real, true friend, and how to be comfortable with myself around others. she also helped me learn the hamster dance, especially good for monday morning blues.

dahlia was a transition for me, much like my college bedding. i will always look at dahlia with fond memories, some wonderful and some bittersweet, and remember it as my first 'grown up' house experience. i will miss the neighborhood, the neighbors themselves, the proximity to city park for morning runs, and yes, i will even miss hating hot chickalatte. however, like the transitional bedding wore out it's welcome, so has my time at dahlia, and it is time to be moving on.

dear dahlia house, 


how i love thee. how i love your purple walls, the singing birds outside my window, and the mantel by the windows. how i love the reading room that faces east, soaking up the sun as it rises in the morning. how i love, and will greatly miss, the laundry line out front, and the separate garage with all the car parts, years, improvements, and other nonsense penciled on the door. how i will miss your storage space, and basement in general, and the fun cutting board counter top by the pot and pan holder on the ceiling. i will also miss the funky bathtub shower and 'specimen' closet behind the toilet. i will miss so many things, dearest dahlia, but i do know i am gaining so much for what i am giving up. thank you for being my transitional housing: for mending my heart and teaching me how to be a grown up in this world. you will always be loved, and somewhat missed. 


love, kaci. 

ps. i'm sorry that i scratched your floors the day i moved in, and i'm sorry that my dogs aren't nice to your yard. i am not, sorry, however, to leave you to the care of a newlywed couple. i have a feeling they will love you too.