While I have been a DC resident for about 10 years, I have not always lived in Georgetown. My first DC apartment was in Adams Morgan back in 2002. During business school, I lived in Georgetown at the Paper Mill. Upon graduation, I moved to Arlington for 5 long years, finally moving back to Georgetown about two and a half years ago. I remember that move so clearly, it felt like I was coming home. I could once again smell the trees, walk around surrounded by old rowhouses, walk to get coffee and walk home after having had a couple of drinks. I discovered the quiet beauty of East Georgetown, the side I much prefer to West Georgetown. I made my tiny 850 square foot, ground floor, one bedroom apartment my own, and imagined living there happily ever after.
Yesterday, I moved two floors up to the third floor apartment in the same rowhouse. I hate change, so moving just two floors up was the easiest move for me, both physically and psychologically (my fabulous movers, from Mighty Men Moving, who have done all of my personal and professional DC moves, may disagree about the physical ease of the move… no elevator of course). While all of my books remain to be unpacked, and none of my art collection is up on the wall, the rest of the apartment is already pretty organized, and I feel like I never left home. I love the extra space (one whole extra room!), the high ceilings, the gorgeous third floor views. And the three flights of stairs I will now have to run up and down at least once per day. My body thanks me.
When I moved to the first floor apartment a few years ago, Griffin Market was still open. I remember my first meal in that apartment, shared with my husband Edwin, which was purchased entirely from there: cheese, crackers, nuts, and good wine (see picture).