a house with a view

My mother (the one with the irritatingly good sense of direction) and I (the one with the frustrate lack of any directional skills) took yesterday and today to search for an apartment in New York. 

You know who does not have a natural talent for researching real estate? Me.

This morning I sent my dearly beloveded far-off husband the following message: "I'm going to find you a mansion with a cook, a car person, and a go to Blockbuster to pick up our desired movie person. Or just a house with a roof and a bed." 

I did not get him a mansion or a car person (honestly, the car person would have been solely for my benefit), but I did get him a house with THREE beds and a view.

photo not taken this morning

In all fairness and honesty, I did not find this apartment. Christopher, the dearly beloveded far-off husband, found it last week after I, the one in charge of apartment plans, may have had a small emotional breakdown while on the phone with him. It was not one of my finer moments.

The land in the distance across the lake is Canada. I have been practicing my Canadian language skills in my head all day. I would hate if a Canadian rowed over to my new home and I didn't know the perfect thing to say. Unfortunately, one of the only phrases I could come up with was "cheerio!" While such a phrase might be appropriate to threw around when one dines with William and Kate (and don't we all do that on a regular basis?), I don't think it's quite appropriate here. I'd love to hear from any experts who may know. 

Come to think of it, I'm French Canadian so that alone should get any new Canadian friendship off to a rip-roaring start.