sweet sixteen in Zimpel Manor

Today begins the sixteenth week of our household's complete existence, and my last week in New Orleans before the holidays. We're still getting the same questions about our household being a bad reality TV show or if we've all synched up yet, but we've come a long way.

Our first time all together, at orientation:


Our first meal all together, at Zimpel Manor:


And now? We received our first compliment in response to announcing we all live together, when we went out for wine and cheese a few weeks ago at St. James Cheese Company (where I clearly had a beer with my soft cheeses, thank you). The awesome woman behind the counter celebrated how joyful we were and how awesome our household must be.

She's not entirely wrong. We certainly have our fair share of bumps in the road (this is, after all, New Orleans, and if you've never driven here... I don't necessarily recommend it*). They are new every morning, with additional layers and nuances as time goes on and we discover more permutations of our quirks. However, for a household of eight people, we function reasonably well. I don't believe any of us are starving and we have yet to go over on our grocery budget. We rarely if ever need to wait for a shower or toilet. Even the thermostat wars are really more like peace rallies. We all pretty much point to the same night when we clicked as a domestic unit of sorts: the night Alyssa tried to be my wedding planner.

Since then, we've reached new levels of householdery. For one, we have received mail addressed to Zimpel Manor. Granted, it was from our boss, but who cares. Furthermore, we can now all pretty much identify whose clothes are sitting in the dryer. And speaking of clothes, this happened last week, on the same day, completely unplanned:



(photos courtesy Kalyn)

I mean, it was only a matter of time till Hot Dog Johnny's happened, but even Anna Leigh and Alyssa's shoes looked similar. We may not be totally in synch in the way that most people mean when they ask that question, but we're clearly on some shared wavelengths around here.

Happy Sweet Sixteen, Zimpel Manor, and many more!



*Fun fact: The roads in South Louisiana, especially New Orleans, are terrible. I've heard stories about this being related to the Federal government holding infrastructure money hostage until states raised the drinking age to 21, but whether that's true or not, subsidence, poor drainage and Live Oak roots sure do wreak havoc on the roads here.