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As some of you know, I finally broke down and moved into the condominium/duplex I own right when I came back from my trip to East Africa in April. I had originally paid off the mortgage on the place in May of 2017, and various friends and family told me in no uncertain terms that I should relocated into the duplex at that time. Because I didn’t and continued to live in the one-room hovel (barely enough room for my computer and a bed) I rented, they also did a double-take. Which was followed by most of them accusing me of being a few French fries short of a complete Happy Meal. I am slightly off-my-rocker, but that has more to do with a wide variety of factors and my refusal to move into my condo. is just one of them.
Another was the fact that the guy I happened to be renting to at that time was a pretty good individual. I didn’t want to look like a morally bankrupt Slum-Lord and a total heel by unceremoniously kicking him out of the place. Better to eventually move into the condo. when the time was right, and confirm many people’s earlier suspicions about eccentric behavior being a prominent feature of my personality.
Since moving into the place, with one or two minor exceptions, it’s been a fun experience settling in. When I first got back from the trip, a mountain of stuff in cardboard boxes greeted me as I walked in the door. Having saved almost everything I’ve accumulated over the past forty years, then randomly stacking the boxes up before I took off, the massive amount of paraphernalia that got stacked inside the condo. was truly mind boggling. Hoarding doesn’t even begin to describe it.
In point of fact, as I was moving the boxes into the place just prior to my departure, my soon-to-be former renter, who was planning to depart about the same time as I was getting ready to travel 11,000 miles to the other side of the globe, commented that I needed to get rid of a few things. “Simplify your life by throwing a lot of this crap out”,as he put it.
I kept this in mind as I started organizing in late April. First off, the books. Only kept the ones related to the writing craft, and manuscripts with a comedic or humorous tone to them. By keeping this philosophy in mind, I basically purged myself of almost half the books I had. All of a sudden, the used bookstores in Durango received a huge boost to their inventories. That still left me with enough books to fill four manuscript cases of various sizes, and one friend upon visiting for the first time remarked that you could definitely tell I was a writer just by looking at all the volumes of reading material in my possession. Psychologists have observed that people who spend inordinate amounts of time with their nose buried in a book are either quite intelligent and turn into writers themselves, very introverted, closet recluses, or possess extremely vivid imaginations. In my case, hopefully the former, but more than likely the latter two.
Next, I started hanging pictures and posters on every vacant wall space I could find. I’d become obsessed with not wanting to see empty walls anywhere in the condo., and from early May right up until the present moment, a day didn’t seem complete unless I hung something in the evening. Is this strange desire to cover wall space another example of my obsessive/compulsive behavior showing through? I envision covering even the small spaces between pictures next to my computer, so you be the judge.
A few rather insignificant problems have cropped up since I moved into the condo… Actually, most of these problems have been percolating under the surface for a while, and I didn’t really notice they needed to be addressed until now. Moving into a place and seeing them on a day-to-day basis has a way of doing that to you.
The first is something that probably should’ve been looked into last year. My last renter told me numerous times about a dry rot issue with the window sill, a diverter that needed to be installed to keep the rain away, and repairs that should’ve been done last year. Then we experienced the winter to beat all winters, and the issues have just got exacerbated more since earlier in the year.
This problem is the same for the entire bathtub enclosure which needs to be replaced. Having been used numerous times over the years, the center of the tub (precisely where one stands) is as fragile as a high maintenance Hollywood starlet stuck in 3rdclass on a train steaming through Siberia. I’m planning to have these issues addressed before the snow flies in late September. The chimney needs to be extended above the roof in order to avoid smoke blowing back inside this winter. That ones on the repair docket also. Boy-o-boy, isn’t home ownership wonderful?
That’s just it though, the property may be small (950 sq. ft.), and any sort of yard the place has is pretty much non-existent, but best of all, the mortgage is paid off. With that reassuring thought in the back of my mind, the longer I’m living here (only been at the place a little over four months), the more I like coming home at night to relax in my humble, little, abode.