The 25′ moving truck at our old home in Bloomfield, NJ.

We still don’t have a beach house to call home … but we’re getting closer. Coney Island is literally 5 miles from our new doorstep on Ocean Parkway. We are officially Brooklyn residents. Brooklynites. Kensingtonites to be more specific.

Our new tree-lined street - complete with bike path that runs from Prospect Park to Coney Island.

Our new tree-lined street – complete with bike path that runs from Prospect Park to Coney Island.

It’s been a crazy month, and I apologize for the blog slack. I’m still kind of awestruck that we actually sold our old home. I had really resigned myself to the fact that something would blow up and we would be stuck there for another 5 to 10 years. But, I guess miracles do happen. We still lost money, as we bought in the height of the market back in 2004, but it wasn’t as harsh a blow as I was expecting. Don’t get me wrong, it was far from an easy road from offer acceptance to closing, but somehow everything miraculously fell into place. And by miraculously, I mean that I nearly killed myself to get it all done.

When our buyers suddenly sprung an FHA loan on us mid-stream, which required another property assessment, we freaked out. Given the current market, and what we quickly taught ourselves about FHA loans, we imagined that there were would be numerous issues that would delay the closing, and were not even sure anymore if the house would actually sell. And since we did NOT want to be stuck with both a mortgage and an apartment lease, we pulled back on signing a lease for a new apartment until we had the results from the FHA assessment, even though we had the buyer’s commitment letter.

Luckily, nothing came up in the FHA assessment, and everything still seemed on track for the buyer for a closing on July 25th. However, due to the fact that we wasted two weeks of time waiting to find out what was going to happen with the FHA assessment and generally going from freaked out to beyond pissed, I really thought we would have until the end of August to move out, with use of occupancy of the house after the closing. When I found out that was not the case and that we needed to be fully out by the closing on July 25th, all my original moving plans bit the dust, and I took off two weeks from work to get it DONE.

Figuring out which of our belongings from our four bedroom, full basement & one car garage house would actually get packed and moved into our new two bedroom apartment and 10×20 storage unit, which is also housing my old cake studio’s things, was a monstrous challenge. As you can imagine, there was a LOT to cull.


My OCD is full effect with the floorplan of our new apartment and post-it note furniture.

There were multiple big donations to charities who picked up items we simply put outside (godsend I tell you). There were many, many, many giant bags of garbage and furniture put out at the curb (sorry, and thank you garbage guys for making it all disappear). There was heavy gifting of items to friends and neighbors (you’re welcome everyone who got free stuff). There were a few things we actually sold. We probably could have made more money if we had more time, but with just 10 days to get everything organized and moved, I didn’t have any time to be craigslisting or ebaying anything, especially because I was packing all our things by myself.


Spot of sunshine found on our walk home from dinner on one of our first nights in Kensington.

Here’s a quick rundown of our sale & move by the numbers:

1: Ankle sprained when a couch nearly fell on top of me in our old staircase on its way to the curb.

3: Apartment applications submitted. I swear we submitted more paperwork to rent a Brooklyn apartment than we did to get the mortgage for our old home – crazy.

4: Moving companies I received in-home quotes from.

6: Uzbekistan movers it took to move all our stuff, including a 10’x3’ butcher block countertop up SIX flights of stairs. (Yes, I tipped well, and bought them lunch.)

10: Days I had to pack and organize all of our things to personally move to our storage unit or be moved by professional movers.

25+ : Apartments we viewed. I was keeping a custom google map to keep track, but that went off the rails once we hit apartment 25 and time was crunching down on us.

37: Age I turned in all this chaos.

73: Age I felt during all this chaos.

97+ : Emails between our realtor, lawyer, and us from offer to closing.

600+ : Text messages between our realtor and me from offer to closing.

1,400: Cubic feet of the 25’ moving truck we filled to the gills. It was packed so much, that we had to take three of the movers in our car with us.

1,600: Cubic feet in our storage unit, of which I am using every inch possible.


About Jen

Wife, cat-mom, and new Brooklynite. Collector of cookbooks, typewriters, yarn, and all things shiny. Pro-baker & food lover readjusting to office life at JBF.
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