I’m not quite out of the apartment yet, but that’s by choice. I want to hang on to it through the end of the month to do as much cleaning as possible. And, to be frank, because I want to do more CrossFit at Arbor. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Arbor is the main thing I’ll be missing. Not just the workouts, but the community. I’m not much of a joiner, but that has been my fitness community for nearly 10 years.
Still. I got myself a desk in my home office that looks out to the Cuddy Mountains. Tuesday morning, they were hidden by clouds and mist, but I know they’re there. And by mid-afternoon, they were lifting their cloud skirts to display their foothills.
The rain was so vigorous on Monday night that we discovered one window has a leaky spot. We can caulk it, but first we need a ladder.
I’m really starting to feel that song from the 36 Questions musical, “One Thing.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRTT1ulHOB0 I guess that’s what it means to be a homeowner.
There’s one other thing that I’m going to need that ladder for, so I hope to get one soon. There are screws on the roof that need to be tightened and others that need to be replaced; I’m sure not getting up there without a ladder! And there’s other work to be done. There are rooms that need footboards, windows that need framing. The deck needs to be self supported instead of dragging on the house.
There’s so much to do! I’m excited though. We’re going to work slow and steady. I’ve been unpacking each morning, though some of that consists of moving boxes and bags from one room to another. We don’t really have furniture at this point. One wooden dresser, one plastic dresser, my new desk for work, a few chairs… I’m going to want a bookshelf or three. We’re going to want a headboard, preferably with bookshelf and storage.
I find it hard to articulate how much I like being here. There is a different flavor to the quiet around here. There are no other homes within 500 feet of me. I feel comfortable going outside knowing that I will be alone. Too far to be hailed from the road or someone else’s porch. It feels right to me, this isolation. I can be me without thinking of how I’m perceived or if I’m perceived.
I think that some people don’t have that acute awareness of other people that I do. Awareness of the eyes that are or could be watching (and judging). Sometimes, I don’t think that I was bullied in grade school, but other times I think I learned very well how judgmental other people could be of me. From students and from some teachers…
When I was a teen, I didn’t consider myself outdoorsy or athletic at all. But I think I forgot about the little girl who would go outside and find a place to hide in the untamed wilds of the empty lots that bordered her backyard. A space to be alone in my own little woods. It kind of feels like this is the place that I’ve been searching for all along, ever since they started to develop those lots and took away that childhood hideaway.