As you know, I am moving once again. It's been a complicated trajectory and I can't blame you for not keeping pace. Since not every Ocean reader tracks my comings and goings on a regular basis, I will be including quick summaries occasionally, repetitive to some, all new to those infrequent friends.
A brief synopsis then: with Ed's help, I recently became a homeowner of a cottage-type house in the new development that abuts the farmette lands. I call it Steffi's House, naming it after my grandmother, whose home was the place of my childhood dreams. Steffi's House was originally a back-up plan. I have no ownership interest in the farmhouse and Ed and I are of an age where one of us may keel over at any time. We both agreed that I should not be thrown out to the dogs if Ed, say, had a biking accident and became a vegetable overnight. Housing prices keep going up, so we both thought it would be wise to take the plunge now before I got priced out of the market.
Last fall, I moved out of the farmhouse. I was overwhelmed by it and I didn't think Ed and I could ever agree on a way forward, both in terms of house maintenance and yard work. We were both making too many compromises already. I moved to an apartment to give myself time to figure out what to do next. It became obvious that Ed and I love our life together even if we cannot share the same residence. So I moved closer to him and waited for Steffi's House to shed its renter so that I could move in to what I hope will be my permanent residence. Steffi's House is compact and importantly, just a few minutes' walk to the farmhouse door. My life with Ed has no ready label for it. I used to call him my occasional travel companion (it was a joke). He calls me gorgeous. Or girl friend -- a designation that I hate because it makes me feel like being on a perpetual date. I call him my partner -- another designation we both do not like since we are not a corporation. So, no good label, but a life together, only now mine will be based out of Steffi's House.
The renter is moving out by noon this Tuesday. I hope. I know nothing about the guy except that he pays his bills on time, does not mow the lawn like he's supposed to, and keeps all shades down to the max all the time. No one has ever seen him in the neighborhood which I know sounds ominous. I did notice that someone put out a garbage can on Thursday, so someone's pulling the strings from the inside. I am somewhat terrified of what I will find inside once he moves out.
Before this last year, I have never been a home owner on my own. Yes, my (ex)husband and I had a heavily mortgaged house while the kids were growing up, but once they were out and gone and my now ex moved to Chicago, I switched to an apartment, and then a heavily mortgaged condo, and then to the farmhouse. Ed's farmhouse. I suppose it does feel late to be entering my own house for the first time at age 73. Many people think I should be going to a retirement community and not embarking on the complicated task of taking care of a house. I happen to disagree. I managed the affairs of house maintenance when I was married and I cared for the premises of the ancient farmhouse for the 15 years I lived in it. I know what's at stake.
But what I never expected was the new layer of complete lunacy imposed on all homeowners in a community and one with a Home Owners Association, as we now live in the world of social media.
Initially, when I was invited to join the Facebook Group (open to all here, in the new development), I thought -- great! We can share questions and navigate challenges together! And yes, there is that component to it. But there is another: the finger pointing, calling out, ranting and complaining and shaming of neighbors -- all that I find somewhat crazed. Recently, it's been all about dogs. It is true that many people do not pick up after their pooches. I have a neighbor whose dog routinely poops in my yard and there the poop remains. People who give themselves permission to not follow the rules are not going to be swayed by angry rants on a Facebook page. But the discussion has gone a step further: some homeowners have taken to putting up little signs on their property of the type that say"keep your dog off my property." And so now there are rants about that as well. With the other side joining in, along the lines of "I spend a lot of money on my lawn and do not wish to have it ruined by your dog ." Back and forth like that.
I am beginning to think that we are a country that truly struggles with the idea of community. Having just traveled to places where it is assumed (and confirmed by the high-ups) that anyone can hike over any land at any time, so long as they are respectful and quiet, it's hard for me to believe that we are fighting here over whose dog crosses which lawn. And equally troubling is the positioning of the opposition: I remember when in Paris there were no poop laws and walking on the sidewalks of that city was... treacherous. Then suddenly the people decided that this cannot continue. Leaving dog waste on the street stopped, and these days you'll have to walk many, many blocks before you'll come across any dog poop. And I don't think social media shaming can claim credit for that.
The Facebook page for this development goes beyond dogs trespassing. People get angry about kids cutting across their back lawn. They get angry when the mailman makes a mistake with a letter (we have a communal mail station). They get really worked up when the flowers in the median strips start to get too tall. And garbage collection -- if it starts ten minutes early, people get upset. And of course, everyone now has Blink or comparable monitoring systems. You can post pictures of what you feel is offensive conduct. And last night I bought a camera too, since I do not want to be labeled as the one person in the entire neighborhood that you can rob and vandalize because the old bitty does not subscribe to new technology.
We live in such strange times..
* * *
Millie did not sleep in her crate last night. That's a first! I let her stay out because she hid under the bed when it was time to turn off the light. It was grand to know that she has reached that milestone in her life where she can be trusted at night to have her freedom.
Breakfast on the porch. With my girl under the bench.
I take her then to the big dog park. I can tell she doesn't really remember it. She is very tentative and doesn't stray far from my side.
(a roll in the grass is always nice!)
And surprisingly, she is also tentative with the dogs there. My pup really likes familiarity. She races to get to doggie daycare -- where she knows the people and the dogs. She hasn't the same confidence in the dog park.
But, it's a gorgeous day and we have quite the lovely walk. More dog park walks are ahead for us, I'm sure of it!
(classic Millie!)
* * *
On our way back home, I stop over at Steffi's House. Hard to believe that in three days I wont have to tiptoe around there as I inspect the yard.
I go over to the crab apple that was transplanted in the mad pre-trip sod removal and garden creation project. The tree initially was really suffering in its new place, but thankfully it seems to have recovered. And a robin has made a nest in its thick foliage. Since the mama bird is screeching at me as I approach it, I know there must be eggs.
No eggs. But these!
Welcome to this crazy world, baby birds!
* * *
My move prep is going slowly. Really slowly. You'd think you'd pick up speed the third time around but no. I diddle with small stuff. Why am I not packing?
I go back to posts here on Ocean about my last move. That one was all about Henry of course and the familiar sadness seeps in. I stop reading and come back to the present.
* * *
One item that has been on my list of must do's is the paying off of bills for the sod rip up and the planting of a small corner of the Steffi garden. I'd been putting it off until the due date because, well, there have been other expenses this month!
I get to it this afternoon. As I look at the dozen or so plants the landscaper chose for me, I notice five that I just hadn't paid attention to. Coral bells. Heucheras. Why didn't I see this before? Because I'd been ignoring that corner of the garden and concentrating on the rest. But there it is now: 5 heucheras, placed in the front south side bed, in full glorious hot sun. In case you don't know this about coral bells, they detest hot sun and especially afternoon sun.
Everything is conspiring for me to replant that corner of the bed.
Millie, you are napping. Let me put you in the crate for an hour while I go to the K&A Nursery and see what perennials are left.
I pick up a trunk-ful of lovely plants. And I have to wonder -- just like taking on massive planting days before my departure for Poland, I have now acquired more plants that will need to go in soon. Like, this week.The week of my move. Nits, right?
No matter. I have faith in hard work and careful scheduling. I will get it done. And I will inhabit Steffi's House next week.
* * *
Now that I slammed in on FaceBook, let me give a flip view of it. Today, for example, I found a video reel on doodle ownership and I had to laugh. It's up and down and all around a Millie profile! Here's the text:
Everyone wants a doodle until they realize ... everything sticks to their fur (Millie! I just brushed you! must you roll in dried plant life?)... rules are just a suggestion (I guess you can jump up on the bed if you really want to...) ... they rearrange the decor (I really think the couch cover belongs on... the couch)... toilet paper (or a tissue) is considered a food group (actually, every item found outside is considered a food group).
The most playful, silly, lovable dog on the planet!
with so much love...
