home turf

Once again, I have generated a home full of rubble. I seem always to be mid-reno. Right now half the kitchen has spilled out into the dining area, while the insides of cupboards get painted by my sweetheart. Last coat tonight, with any luck. Then tomorrow the other half of the kitchen can be emptied out, and all this work will be repeated. Sanding, primer, paint, two coats. It's the inevitable result of upgrading. New counters, new stove, new sink, and the cupboards look shabby. The doors are fine, but the insides? Ick. It's not just the water damage that causes particleboard to bubble up, but the peculiarly drab and nasty colour inside the cupboards. Anyway, half have transformed to the same creamy colour that is on the walls in the kitchen, and it helps. Lighter, I'm going for lighter. This apartment is light-challenged.

I've done this before, not really that long ago; worked at upgrading a place so it can be 'staged' for selling. This time I'm doing it as a duo. Though the place belongs to me, I'm now part of a couple, and we're on the move this year. This apartment was transitional anyway, if I'd only realized it when I bought in here. Everything is transitional I suppose, change constant. It's funny that we ever think we've got it right when we buy a new place to live. But I have learned one thing by living here, and that's that I lived too many years in a house to transition easily to apartment living. I'm spoiled; no doubt. I miss the luxury of a house to myself, and some green around it. Doesn't have to be a lot, but stepping out the door onto the ground instead of onto concrete strikes me as very desireable, essential even. And anyway, I bought this place thinking of myself as solo, and now I'm not. It's become crowded, too much stuff again.

Ah yes, stuff. That's always an issue, and lightening the load is a goal too. But there are limits, and some cushioning that I'd like to keep around me, thus the impetus to move into somewhat roomier digs.

So, what's the plan? Well, I'm going to sell my place sometime this spring, if all goes well. Then we'll find a place to rent while we take our time about where next to put in roots. And there are roots to put in. We have a growing selection of plants that are waiting for some ground to sink their roots into. And I want to be in a place where I can watch them grow. They're having a hard time here—not enough light gets through to us on this patch of concrete. And it's high on my list, that sunlight will stream through windows in the next place I live. For me, and for the several house plants that D had to farm out when he moved in, till we have a proper window to put them near. I gave away a lot of plants too when I moved in here too. It's funny that I didn't put together that a shortage of direct light would trouble me as well.

Renting will be quite the change for me. It's been more than 35 years since I last rented a place to live; not so long for my partner. Will I feel free? Maybe. D liked the freedom from responsibility after being a homeowner (though he seems to have been roped into pseudo-homeownership here) and isn't troubled at all by the idea of renting. Of being transitional for awhile. I'm kind of intrigued myself. After so many years of being responsible for everything, it might just be a nice holiday. But I wouldn't bet on me staying a tenant for long. That plot of land, it draws me.