All the Palaces.

The first house Josh and I shared was an upper-level duplex in Boone, where we were finishing college. The place was run-down, but we were amazed at the linen closet, the stackable washer and dryer, and the tiny dishwasher. The living room and the master bedroom were huge. We were happy there, eating grilled hot dogs and watching VH-1 Classic. We gorged on chips and ranch dip and walked up a huge staircase up a hill to the bus stop. I read The Hours, marking it up wildly in pencil. We called our place the MLP: Magical Love Palace.

Our next home was the WLP, White Love Palace. It was a one-bedroom apartment we named WLP because of the bright white paint and many windows. We had a coat closet, a double vanity, functional drawers in the bathroom, a linen closet, a pantry, a walk-in closet, and a huge balcony. That was where I lived alone (the only time!) for two months while Josh was with the army.

Next came the CLP, the Country Love Palace. Josh got a job at an obscure high school, and we moved into a 100+year-old house. It was massive. We had built-in bookcases and a sunroom. That's were I read 100 books in a year, prepared my thesis, and submitted work--two+ submissions per day. I was living at the CLP when I got my first acceptance. Otherwise, the place was run down and remote, and I felt uneasy alone there. Our terrible experiences elsewhere seemed to poison the place.

I graduated and needed money to make student loan payments. We moved to Monroe, so I could find a job. I was a substitute teacher at a private school for a bit, and then, I started teaching at a community college. Our little duplex was adorable. I can't think of the name we gave it. We liked having stairs for the first time. We watched Millennium and Dresden Files. I actually cooked a little. We made and lost our twins there. The joy sticks more than the sorrow.

I got a full-time job offer, so we moved again. We could afford a large old house that was well-renovated. Hard-wood floors were everywhere. Our furniture seemed meager in all that space. I had a dressing room with a little black desk as a vanity and a bookcase full of shoeboxes. We made Oliver there.

Josh got laid off, so we couldn't afford the big house. It became a bakery for a while, which is a cute thought. We moved to the OLC, Oliver's Love Cottage. It was a sweet little house but a sketchy area. We spent our first few weeks with Oliver there. Then, someone scared us by pitching (or, more likely, firing/launching) a rock through our window. My baby was covered in glass.

So we moved to Fayetteville and to the OLC2. We liked our new home. It was a good size for us at first. But then, an arsonist set our building on fire. No one was hurt, but we had to give up many items that had gotten smoked. Thank goodness we had renters insurance.

So we moved again but stayed in the same complex. We upgraded to a three-bedroom apartment because it was already clear that Oliver would need more space. OLC3. And we've lived in this apartment for six years! I'm happy staying still at last.