The new apartment is colder than my old apartment. The doorbell ring is a descending minor third rather than the major third of the old apartment. It's making me always have Depeche Mode's "I Want You Now" in my head (also a descending minor third).
I like living downstairs, closer to the garden, with a view of the hoop house(s) from the kitchen. I like the apartment layout better for violin teaching; I think it's friendlier. I like the hardwood floors for tango dancing. But one thing this apartment does not have is something secret.
After spending a childhood in the library reading the Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew, it seems mandatory that I live in a place that has a secret escape tunnel behind a fireplace, or a torch on the wall that I pull to reveal a hidden door behind a revolving bookcase, or something. Upstairs, the Murphy bed sort of fulfilled that. Maybe I should start small...a drawer with a false bottom? Or a hidden hatch into the basement through one of the now-unused heating registers? Hmmmm.