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Living on the third floor without an elevator may be exhausting, but we must admit it's a good thing. The ascending and descending many times a day is good for the heart, lungs, and muscles in general. Knowing that anything we plan to buy or take home will be carried three floors up is a strong deterrent to the purchase of useless stuff (except for our first microwave oven, received today with the supermarket coupons...). On the other hand, some of our relatives and friends may find hard to visit us (sometimes this isn't so negative...). In general the balance is positive. Living without an elevator means no maintenance stops, no embarrassing silences between unknowns, no disturbing noise at night. It also means more relationships with the neighbors and less building maintenance expenses. In any case, there's no room for an elevator in our block, neither internal nor external, so we'll keep doing transportation up and downstairs for a while more. My family from top to bottom and right to left: Viola, Silvia, Monica and me. Then again Silvia, Viola, Silvia, Viola... (Thanks to Caroling Geary for american english corrections)
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