At my old apartment, I marveled at the stillness of Sunday mornings. I lived between two major streets and a connector street in the growing and busy area TPTB have now deemed Midtown.

On Sundays, I would sit in my sunroom drinking coffee, reading my newspaper (yep, real newsprint version) looking at my flowers or dog walkers and cyclists going by. Occasionally I’d hear the stray chirp of a bird or a car leaving the parking lot. From early morning until almost noon, I enjoyed hearing nothing. I bathed in this unusual stillness for nine years. It never stopped amazing me.

My new condo is a quaint, downtown  jewel. There’s so much that’s fabulous about it. But there are things I’ve lost in the move, that I’ll not get back. That Sunday morning stillness is lost to me. So is the quiet of nighttime. When I have the TV on or the HVAC system running it dulls a lot of the traffic noise from the busy connector street I now live on. But on Sunday morning, I want to awaken to that stillness or just sleep in late. Sleeping in late I have found to be challenging here. I get very early light and rush hour traffic as my alarm 7 days a week.

Between the traffic and Lil Hottie (aka the student that lives upstairs) peace and quiet at home will need redefining. Lil Hottie hands down has the heaviest stomp of every 3rd floor neighbor I’ve ever endured. It was particularly pronounced this morning or maybe after going to bed at 2 a.m., it just seemed that way. He also threw in some off-key singing today. Which you’d have thought was endearing too if you met charming Lil Hottie. Oh don’t get excited. Lil Hottie’s girlfriend joined in the chorus. Eh, she wasn’t so bad. She doesn’t get a name until I know she’s not a temp.

It’s only been 24 days and perhaps I’ll adapt to this neighborhoods different sounds and vibe quickly. Just as I’ve had to adapt to new views and sounds in all of the 22 moves I’ve made in my life.

So long silent Sundays.

P.S. I gained a TV visible from the bathtub, so Sunday soaks and NFL football is back on!