{"id":243,"date":"2012-05-03T08:33:27","date_gmt":"2012-05-03T08:33:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ouritalianfarmhouse.com\/ourstory\/?p=243"},"modified":"2026-03-02T17:17:57","modified_gmt":"2026-03-02T17:17:57","slug":"from-garden-house-to-the-red-house-tseteli-sakhli","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ouritalianfarmhouse.com\/ourstory\/2012\/05\/03\/from-garden-house-to-the-red-house-tseteli-sakhli\/","title":{"rendered":"From Garden House to the Red House (tseteli sakhli)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

On Abashidze Avenue, at the corner of pickles and puri,*<\/strong> I stand juggling sacks and parcels containing everything from cleaning products and new toilet brushes to a kilo of Georgian sweet cherries, which appeared in the markets just this morning.\u00a0 I flag two taxis in quick succession, but both already carry passengers.\u00a0 My arms are tired and I am impatient to get up the hill to our new place, to start scrubbing and mopping and moving in.\u00a0 A third taxi passes, also already engaged, but this driver taps his horn twice, signaling to another driver across the street.\u00a0 Who executes a neat 180-degree turn across traffic and stops his dark Mercedes on a dime, inches from me.\u00a0 Tom Waits blasting from the radio, a dapper gent with neatly trimmed beard and full head of white hair (think Edmund Gwynne in Miracle on 34th<\/sup> Street) is at my service.\u00a0 The route to our new home involves several climbing turns; I give directions in Georgian and the driver replies cheerfully in Russian.\u00a0 We arrive at my door, agree on a fare, and part ways happy for the chance meeting with a pleasant stranger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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On a fresh, sunny morning the day after May\nDay, we moved house in Tbilisi, exchanging cozy\/funky for dramatic\/contempo.  Our downstairs neighbors recently\nbought the little garden house where we\u2019ve lived since November, and we found a\nfabulous apartment several streets above, with a panoramic view from its vast\nterrace.  The apartment building, painted\na bright salmon color and set among smaller family dwellings, is exceedingly\nnoticeable and widely known as the Red House. The address is 20B Tskhvedadze\nStreet, but up this high street signs and numbers are few.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The movers arrived promptly at ten: Shalva, the young foreman, and three others neatly dressed in jeans, polo shirts, and sneakers; they looked like well-muscled gym rats, but maybe moving furniture for a living will do that for you.\u00a0 While I showed Shalva through the house, the three changed their clothes for jumpsuits and sturdy boots and began packing.\u00a0 While they worked they sang, quietly and un-self-consciously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pavel stopped in, wearing yet another hat\n(maybe we\u2019ve already turned the corner into summer?) to say goodbye and leave\nhis mobile number, in case we should need him.  (Recently he washed our truck and tinkered under the hood;\nimmediately afterward the truck\u2019s battery died and had to be replaced.  But throughout the whole ordeal, which\ntook several days and a bit of money to resolve, Pavel was so good-natured and\nhelpful that we actually felt guilty for suspecting him of having caused the\nproblem.)  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The small moving truck was loaded by noon; I piled into a rattletrap Lada with Shalva and two of his colleagues and led the way to the Red House.\u00a0 By two o\u2019clock our bed stood fully assembled in the master bedroom and I was alone, at home in Georgia once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Six days later now, I still have a few\ncartons to unpack and most of our clothes remain in suitcases while we wait for\ndelivery of some new furniture.  I\nhave not taken out the small ornaments and family photos, and we have yet to\nhang all our framed prints and posters, but we feel at home here already.  Sunday we grilled hamburgers on the\nterrace for dinner, which we ate as twilight overtook the day and lights\ntwinkled on across the city below. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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*<\/strong> a corner on Abashidze Avenue where a vegetable market that sells great pickles stands opposite a traditional baker\u2019s shop where we buy hot, crisp loaves of Georgian bread, called puri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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On Abashidze Avenue, at the corner of pickles and puri,* I stand juggling sacks and parcels containing everything from cleaning products and new toilet brushes to a kilo of Georgian sweet cherries, which appeared in the markets just this morning.\u00a0 I flag two taxis in quick succession, but both already carry passengers.\u00a0 My arms are
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