Becoming a World Traveller: The House on Minny Street

 There's no place like home...

So I realize that I'm several weeks behind on blogging about my Study Abroad adventures and I'm going to do my best to catch up in the next few weeks. Which means there will probably be a flood of blog posts. So be prepared.

Okay, lets talk about the house.

The official name of our house is Hope Cottage (but I just call her Hope), and she has quite the personality.

A Few Things About Hope:
-The front door is extremely hard to close properly. You have to close and LIFT, or it doesn't lock, which means that I make sure I'm not the last one out so someone else can shut it.
-I have killed multiple spiders in the shower, and in my closet. However, thankfully spiders don't bother me much. I'd just rather not shower with them.
-My bedroom door sounds like a dying banshee every time I open it.
-There is a pub right over the wall in our back yard, and I have the uh... good fortune of having my window directly facing their back door. (Story about this later). Friday is karaoke night, and let's just say that I'm grateful for my Jet Blue earplugs.
-We have a washer but no dryer so we use a clothesline to hang our laundry. Which is usually fine, except for sometimes when it rains and you have to wash your clothes all over again.
-We had an unfortunate ant invasion the first week, but thanks to my new friend RAID we solved that pretty quickly.

Despite all of these quirks, I absolutely love living here. It's so different than what I'm used to and I get to have new exciting experiences all the time. You could say I'm living the dream.

And now for an awkward story:

Once upon a time Brontë forgot to close her blinds when she went to go take a shower. Upon returning to her room wearing nothing but a towel she happened to look out the window and see a man who had just walked out the door of the pub staring at her. They made awkward eye contact, and to make things worse for Brontë, he started to smile and wave. She hastily closed her blinds, and never made THAT mistake again. The End.

Love, Brontë