UPDATE: We're abandoningship. Well, not ship so much as our new place.

It's an irony that this place was where people came to drink in fresh air in the summer, because though the mold inspector we asked our landlords to hire called it fine, I can see from the readings that is has spore counts similar to a building that's been flooded. I've actually been diagnosed with asthma since we moved in our apartment. I now have purple flying saucer of an inhaler that for all its Jetsons charm, terrifies me. After some sturm and drang M and I have both decided to get out of here.

We did a brief search. The first house was around the corner, and we thought we might live there because it would be easy to carry all of our belongings over and we could save on movers.

I thought we might even save on boxes. "We could buy about 4," I thought, "and then fill them up, and then tote them over, and then unpack, and then tote them back" . . . it's an easy way to drive oneself crazy. It didn't work out anyhow: the owners were delightful, the current tenants were delightful, and the house itself was delightful, but we smelled mildew in the all-weather carpet on the back stairs leading up to the second floor of the house. Lately, M and I just walk around sniffing in then neighborhood. So I had to turn the lovely Irish dr. down and then I had to explain why. Luckily, instead of being offended, he probably just wrote me off as crazy.

We looked at another on the same block about 2 subways stops farther out. It's where M's mother stayed when she came to visit us a month ago. His mom was going to stay with us but I was afraid that the bad air, which gives me a horrible cough, would poison her, too, so we suggested a B&B. We didn't check this one out before she came and when we went for the first time, were were greeted by a plump (dead) bunny taxidermied on the newl post. What a fluffy tail! It's really the central focus when one walks in the house. I found it terrifying and delightful in perhaps equal measure.

The inside of the B&B was the second floor of one of these old houses, and it was actually a complete apartment, full of some bad furniture choices and someone else's clothing. M's mother is a huge sport though, and took it in stride, even though the proprietor demanded that she pay in cash and also explained that the lock on her door didn't necessarily function.

On our way over to the B&B to pick up M's mom, he and I stopped to ask which was the closest subway stop of a woman pulling weeds in her yard. She was very pleasant. In a twist of fate, that weed-pulling woman will likely be our new landlord.

Must go to work!!