the first thing

The first thing I liked about this home 

was the pink tree out front in full bloom. 

Not that pale pink kind, though that 

is lovely, too, and not 

the really dark, deep 

pink but the middle-darkish 

pink that smells of heaven and keeps 

it's fruit all year round, so it is 

beautifully dressed even in the winter 

when the other deciduous 

trees 

are only 

bones.

A Very Good Day

It was around this time last year that I was

sitting in the Homeowner's class before going

back to my roasting hot apartment where I

got to hear the shouting and fighting of

all my neighbors. 

                                             Now, I am sitting

in my quiet home watching snow fall on

the evergreens outside my study window.  

I have turned on my Christmas lights,

and I am writing.   Later, I will be at a pub

singing Christmas carols and seasonal songs. 

For these blessings, I

am truly grateful. 

Amen.

When packing is like prayer

Each book and each box
a hope for something better
or at least something new

Seller's Market

The day after I lost
the first house I let
myself really love,
the email says,

"Please let me know
if you would like to see
any of these homes."
And I want to say something

impolite to the email because
right now I don't want to see
any homes I might love and will
lose because I just don't have

what it takes to win this game
and my hope is bruised and
broken and may never recover,
but thank you for asking, email.

Time to go to bed - searching for a place

All the old houses I looked at today had floors
that sloped in places and threw people off
balance.  It was a familiar sensation to me, that

half-falling, the disorientation, the catching.  I
wonder if that familiarity would make it safer
for me to live in a house with crooked floors because I

am used to the dizziness and know the tricks not to fall
over.  Maybe I would get used to the crooked
houses faster.  At least  I would have something

to blame when I half-fell and caught myself for
no reason anyone else could see.  Unless the crooked
houses multiplied the half-falls into whole falls.  Then

again, I'll never know unless I live in one, and it seems
I can't currently afford anything in really livable
condition now.  The work injury and the debt it

generated have crippled me more financially
than physically, more than 110+ years have sloped
these floors, more than I care to dwell on while I am

searching for a place to live that isn't here.

Contemplation of moving (on)

Were I to leave, I would miss
this view of the trees and
the sounds of their leaves.

on ode to back porches (the one I can't write)

I want to write an ode to back porches
because it's not possible for there to
be too many praises for such places,
but I can't remember how to write one,
and I'm too lazy to get up off this
padded porch furniture from which I watch
the grass growing when I open my eyes.

ricochet

Dizzy from the autumnal "oil change"
in my sinuses and exhausted from days
of added side-effect insomnia, I
ricochet around my small apartment
making bruises I will forget how I got
when I (re)discover them tomorrow.

the birds outside

.
the fridge is making
disturbingly human noises,
groans like a soul in torment 

but the sound
of the birds
outside is louder
.

unanticipated snow surprises me when I leave the apartment

.
this is what happens when
you say to the world:
leave me alone just for today
.

Something I heard late one night

I didn't actually see anything.  I just heard it:  the crunching squeal of tires skidding on ice over and over for half a minute in the parking lot, the skid, the crash of a significant impact between two cars, the sound of something glass shattering, the brief silence, more glass falling, the engine gunning, more skidding, and a fishtailing journey out of the icy parking lot and away down the street at something significantly over the speed limit.  Why?

I thought about calling the police.  I didn't because, well, what can they do when you report hearing a crime?  I wondered if I should tell the apartment manager in case the poor person whose parked car got smashed into needed someone to back up their claim to the insurance company that they were a victim and not responsible for the damages.  But I didn't SEE it, and the insurance company would still have to pay for it unless the criminal was caught, which would not happen based on my testimony.

In the end, I said nothing and told no one and was very glad I pay extra to have a garage stall to park in at night.  I do that because I can't dig my car out of the snow and/or ice, but apparently it's also handy against random acts of pointless, stupid vehicular vandalism.  Yes, Mom, my insurance rates did go down when I moved here.  I can't really imagine why . . .

Inhabiting new spaces

What I know about my new apartment:

• I have some very kind neighbors who help without even being asked.  (Some of them even before I pass them looking pathetic.)
• It's easier to like my neighbors when I have the AC on because then I can't hear them.
• The sliding toilet seat of doom will either improve my posture or destroy my sanity.
• I don't mind sleeping on the floor, and neither does my back.
• Over 90 degrees with matching humidity is a bit of a chore for the poor AC for some reason.
• I want to be done unpacking.
• The stairway I prefer sings if you walk up too fast.  (It also smells less of cat wee.)
• I still love alphabetizing, despite the pain.
• When I am done unpacking, there will likely be fewer bruises.  I sincerely hope.
• It is unfortunately likely that I will fall down the stairs at some point; it will then be rather difficult to navigate the labyrinth I have made out of this apartment.  (High priority: getting bed frame put together, so I can finish shifting and unpacking, so there will be enough clear space for me to negotiate with a cast, should the need arise.)
• I have a freezer again, and it is marvelous.  Once I clean off the stove, I can even make use of the freezer's few inhabitants.
• I still can't hang things straight.

Signing off clutching my checklists,
TMIA

in case you were wondering

I fell off the face of the earth due to packing for a move, moving, and unpacking.  I'm still unpacking, but there may be a return to our regular posting schedule soon . . .

How not to fall in love with a house

How not to fall in love with a house

• Don't meet the neighbors.
• Don't measure anything. 
• Don't think about exactly how things will best fit.
• Don't like the closets.
• Don't think about how you'll clean it.
• Don't think about how lovely the tree in the front yard will smell in spring.
• Don't notice all the places you could walk to (book store, another book store, library, Panera, Home Depot, park, every restaurant I ever go to).
• Don't notice how quiet it is. 
• Don't notice the pond and the turtles and the ducks.
• Don't think about what life will be like when you live there and not where you live right now.
• Just don't.

Housing for the discouraged

So the buying a house thing also fell through.  I got tired of dealing with banks that were theoretically desperate to get rid of properties but unwilling to do so in practice.  I took another look through my last apartment search for something

• big enough to fit the books I'm currently storing offsite
• that had wood floors to help reduce my allergies
• that was cheaper than what I pay now (I have my rent and the monthly fee for the storage closet where I store all my books)

Surprisingly, I actually found something.

What I'm looking forward to

• more room for my kitchen magnets (not really)
• a freezer (frozen vegetables!)
• room for all my Minnesota books
• 670 square feet
• not being over the entrance (no more feeling every entry and exit, no more smoking below my window!)
• Open south windows
• a bedroom I can seal off to allergy-proof it
• less claustrophobia for those who visit
• not living next to the stairs (no more hearing all those giants clomping up and down all the time)
• lower rent
• not being right next to a highway (no more listening to the drag racers!)
• quieter living (stern, tough grandmother manages the place, and she doesn't tolerate noise)
• no bugs (apparently, they don't like going much higher than the first floor)
• playing with where to put stuff for maximum efficiency in use of storage space (graph paper!)

What I'm not looking forward to

• no microwave (for the 4 times a year I kind of need one)
• no dishwasher (good thing I don't use very many dishes)
• no disposal (does anyone have any experience with how to keep the sink from getting clogged?)
• 2 flights of stairs
• coin laundry
• coin laundry two flights of stairs away
• trying to find a cheap bed
• packing for the move
• the move
• the pain
• worrying about other people getting hurt during the move
• the need to get a portable AC for the bedroom since the AC is in the living room
• manual garage door
• coordinating the move, so it's as cheap as possible

Any advice on how to make this all as painless as possible?

house hunting for novices

.
So, have you ever bought a home?  Any advice/cautions/warnings/tips for me?
.

Not Hanging Curtains, an excerpt from Ways to Get Injured on the Sidelines

I was being so good.  Instead of trying to do it myself, I invited some friends over (thanks for your help, folks) to come hang my noise- and light-canceling curtains (bought with the gift card my sister and brother-in-law sent me for graduation a while ago).  In my past attempts at home improvement and tool-related tasks post injury, I've learned that independence and stupidity can often be linked, and it's better to just ask for help.

We had pasta and garlic bread and deadly chocolate desserts.  Their child wandered around my baby death trap apartment and only licked the TV and my cell phone.  And some rocks.  That I saw.  No post-it notes were harmed.  They hung the curtains.  Fun was had by some.  As they were getting ready to leave, and I was sliding lighter things back into place, a big, tall, heavy lamp fell off its chair/pedastel.

With my athletically trained, lightning-fast reflexes, I caught that sucker before it could hit the ground and break.  Too bad my catching hand is my left hand. 

I haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep since then.  Even though I didn't hang any curtains.

Sigh.

Maybe I need to actually leave my apartment when things are being improved/fixed/installed.  I should probably sit calmly in the hallway and practice breathing or something until there is nothing in my apartment that could possibly hurt me.  Or the apocalypse occurs, whichever happens first.

Home for the Holidays

Well, unfortunately, the predicted snowpocalypse missed us.  It got too warm, I guess, which is why I am sitting in my apartment in shorts and a t-shirt, sweltering.  In anticipation of Snowmageddon, the apartment staff cranked up the thermostat in the lobby directly below me before leaving to spend the holidays elsewhere. 

It's sleeting/snowing/raining outside, so I can't open my window, and it's night, so I have to have a light on to be able to write, and this makes things even warmer.

I just can't bring myself to turn the AC on during Christmas this far north in the Northern hemisphere.  There are some lines I just can't cross.

Don't worry.  I'm staying hydrated as I sweat and listen to Christmas carols.

I'm thinking of leaving the Christmas tree lights on again tonight since they didn't burn the place down last night (hooray, LED lights), and it was comforting to see them while I was doing my usual not-sleeping routine.  It's not every day you can turn over for the 57th time and see lovely blurry twinkling lights that are also still awake on Christmas Eve.  I'm sure lots of kids thinking about presents were on vigil with us, too.

Hope you had as great a Christmas as I did.  Aside from the excess heat, it was nice.  I was happy not to be working in RetailHades, not to have to talk to anyone (I made an exception for my family), not to have to think about looming economic crises for one day.

It was very nice to see my fully assembled Christmas tree, to get some exercise, to watch the snow, to read a bit, write a bit, think about poetry, eat soup, take a few pictures, listen to music, and actually relax for real.

Tomorrow, I'll get back to job applications, credit wrangling, cleaning, laundry, software installation, submitting for publication, and worry.  Today I wanted to be at peace, and I'm glad to say that things pretty much worked out that way, thanks be to God.

How did you spend your holidays this year?