Bye bye Hutcheon Street!

Tomorrow we are moving. Not very far, just a mere 10 minute walk from our current place. (But I am fairly sure those 10 minutes will feel a lot longer carrying all our stuff over there back and forth. Thank goodness we have not got any furniture!!)

I figured this would be a good time for a little Hutcheon Street Memorial Post, you know – eating half a pack of tofu line (because I am sure not one to leave a pack of ice cream behind!!) and walk down memory lane in a vast mixture of iphone + DSLR shots. So here goes, this is where we have lived for the past few, and first, months in Granite city. 


You enter the building from the back, which is sometimes a little confusing. (Like on our day of arrival when we went to knock on number 34 and said “hey! it is us, here to move in!” As it turns out, we were at the wrong 34 and was met by a very skeptical man that directed us AROUND the building. To a completely different one. Oops.)


One must climb up four sets of stairs, past posters of Van Gogh works and a set of skis, and there we have it.


Stepping through the front door, you enter straight into the living room. This photo is me attempting panorama, hence the wobbly blurry weirdness.

90% of the time the right corner of the sofa contains a certain French guy. Myself I will sit curled up on the corner. The window sill has gotten rings of the tea mugs I always store on it.


f you step to the right from the front door, you will find our (former) bedroom. (More on those books are in this post ←)


The artwork hanging on the wall previously hung in the staircase but I found it so beautiful (much more than that massive IKEA print. But please let me keep my Swedish citizenship!) that I stole it to hang it in the bedroom instead.


Most of these photos are from last term. Obviously from a day that I had bothered to clean, because on a normal day it is never this tidy on my bedside table. (Or anywhere else for that matter.)


Opposite of the bedroom is the bathroom. It is a bit of a shabby chic-nightmare. In purple. (Like a sign that says "Relax" on top of the toilet...? Nah. Plus a semi-sexist door sign...) So let us instead admire this photo of my hair before I let Julien cut it <//3


… And of course my fabulous little helpers! Charles and Lady Di!


Another wobbly panorama, as we enter the kitchen! The place where I spend most my time. The lighting is often very bad, but luckily it has a massive window sill.


There is no decent desk in this flat, so this is where I spread out all my uni stuff like there was no tomorrow. These photos again show the 10 seconds before it is back to its normal hot mess-state that we both have a tendency to create… Even though J insists it is my fault alone.


That was all of the little Hutcheon Street reminisce.

And thus a new chapter begins!