Sunday, February 20, 2005


Our landlord came downstairs to meet with us this afternoon. She's going to use our security deposit for our March rent. (That saves us a little dough, since the deposit was less than our current rent.) She wants to keep the phone service on (getting a phone turned on here can be a royal pain, as evidenced by the fact that the phone company took six months to turn ours on), so we'll transfer our number to her. She and her mother plan to renovate and totally refurbish the place, which is why she's applying our security deposit for rent. She's not concerned with any damage we might have done because she knows we've treated the place (and its furniture) as if it was our own. ALL of the furniture and linens are going to be tossed (should give you an idea of how old the stuff is), so that takes the pressure off of fine-cleaning everything.

She thanked us several times for making this so easy for her. She said she felt horrible having to ask us to leave and that she would have never asked if it wasn't for her mother's condition--that as far as she's concerned, we could have lived here forever. She said they'll miss having us here, and we told her we'll miss living here but totally understand about family coming first. It's hard to feel that this move is anything less than absolutely right when everything's falling into place so easily.


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