I'm looking forward to having a bit more room. A place to have my sewing machine set up and my few craft supplies somewhat organized, not just part of the heap of boxes of things we have nowhere to store properly. Having counter space in the kitchen again, a coffee table in the living room and a real dining area for our personalized table and chairs. Two closets plus a linen cupboard, a dishwasher, space for a second dresser in the bedroom. A dresser of my own and being able to get out of the bed on my side will make it feel like a palatal bedroom. No more trampling poor Matt on my way to the bathroom.
The study will no longer contain the dining room table acting as a desk, and the bedside cabinets acting as printer stand and office-supply holders. Cooking will no longer require having an assistant to stand and hold things for me because there's nowhere to put them down momentarily while I stir!
However, I will miss waking up and seeing the dark wooden beams of the ceiling. I will miss coming home and looking up and knowing that the shack-like structure on top of that building is our little cottage apartment, secluded by it's height, with a view from the eastern mountains all the way around to the sunset. I doubt we'll ever live in a place with a 360 degree view again, though we may well have an equally nice outdoor space as the deck.
It's hard to say why we love this teeny apartment so much, in describing it it sounds poky and inconveniently crowded once all of our crap is in there. I suppose it's one of those place that you just have to see to understand it. Something about the combination of wooden floors and ceilings, the warm beige on the walls, the one corner of the hallway that's been painted burnt orange, the runner on the stairs with little llamas and northwestern doo-dads on it. The unused and unusable private elevator adds a touch of mystery, though I never let myself think too hard about my sister's conclusion that it must be haunted.
It's warm and welcoming, people have been happy there and the walls reflect that. It's the first place Matt and I felt homey in, our first apartment together was plagued by an alley full of screaming brats and even more screaming rap music, it never felt like a sanctuary. I hope the new place will be peaceful enough to feel like a sanctuary, being able to paint the walls will make it easier to personalize, we just have to hope for a minimum of the screaming brat/obnoxious rap music.