My new teapot’s a lot bigger than the other ones in the cupboard. Making tea for company was never an issue here, but i’m drinking, or shall I say, recycling it a lot more lately. The panic attack didn’t last long, just same old stress and worry as always. I have a very good feeling about getting the little red house, i just have to convince the damn brokers of it. The bank wouldn’t have paid off the city’s tax lein if they werent’ fixing to sell it. And there’s not reason to not list it now that its spring in a good location.
I am dreading being here as a renter with someone else looking on at my little life, perhaps they will view how I live as being detrimental to their property…hell i know Himself does, i do to an extent. Even the hardwood has taken a hell of a beating in the last 22 years. Being shoveled into 3 little rooms with all my crap and roommates has worn thin, i need more indoor space. My life’s not going to change until i move, and it won’t look any better from the outside just cause i am paying money to someone else to live in my own house. It’s not like I WANT want to hang on here, like a crazy old floridian nutjob, I do want to move on. But I refuse to buy a house just for the sake of buying a house. I had to think long and hard about where i want to spend the next 20 years of my life. I certainly WON’T be doing this again. It took me months to find someplace i could envision spending that time in. Damn house will have to be where i eat, sleep, work, play……aside from any volunteer activities i elect to do and getting out on my boat and bike – it will be just me and the house. It’s different when you have outside jobs, more more money…it gives
you a wider range of options. But i got some narrow parameters, and i think this house fits me. I don’t want to say it spoke to me, that makes it sound crazier.
Mrs. Himself actually made an attempt to help divvy the spoils…and i just mean the old building crap in the barn. I told them i wanted all the windows, and they said they wanted a sink, and so forth…that was marginally constructive. Don’t think they or the broker or even the lawyer give two shits if I buy the house I want, as long as I get the hell out so’s they all can get their payday. Fuck em. I may as well start living the crazy old lady stereotype, that’s the brush i am painted with anyway.
I started back to working on Maine bookstoday, I had been sort of collecting up the texts and research but not much else. Today I put together an edition of Mose the Moose (1890) a little pamphlet I found. I have a few more I can cobble together, but until i have an address to put on the publishing data, they will all stay in the computer. I have my eye on some more important titles, but those are the ones i need to buy expensive originals, that’s gotta wait a bit.
Years of trying to live a bigger grander more successful life, yielded nothing, living my tiny little life, volunteering with the animal rescue and the rail trail, and donating to different charities, have made me a happier person….i KNOW right, i’m miserable now, how much more miserable was i before..considerably more I can tell you. If the house doesn’t need too much work, and i work the numbers right, i will be debt free for the 1st time in my life. No mortgage, no car loan, no outstanding bills…just left to get buy on selling my little books and my bits and bobs of book repair items. I won’t have anyone to blame for my failures by myself. I was doing pretty okay until 2009 when Himself got her power of attorney and the heating bill started sucking two thousand dollars a year out of me. I suppose it will be the same or worse in the new location, the property taxes, the utilities, the water, sewer and so forth…but the plan is to invest whatever is leftover into making more money on the long term. Little money, just steady stream, nothing large…large hasn’t proven to work out for me at all.