My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Today it is warm, so warm and I believe I am going to live. Moving really sucks. I was sick for a while and crawled around the house putting away clothes, books, food; attempting to pacify the katz and entertain the dog.

I've actually made curtains for one window in the living room (there are 4), well, I haven't hemmed it yet but it's a start. And I've managed to get rid of most of the hideous cabinets in the kitchen by pushing them down the back stairs where they land on concrete with satisfying crashes and breakage. The electrician is coming tomorrow to replace the awful light fixtures in kitchen and bedroom, hoorah and the plumber is coming on Friday to hook up the gas stove, oh joy. For now, I'm using the toaster oven to cook with. Well, heat up toast. And soup.

The neighbors are surprisingly good. Cliff, across the street, has a car collection including an old red Ford truck and a '56 T-Bird that is pristine and creamy. Carol and Richard are next door and she sold me the stove now in my kitchen. His brother is interesting; very loud voice, sings to himself and covers his face with his hands when he talks to you. Other side of me an elderly Filipino man who wrote in the dirt with his finger as we talked, not too much English.

I met the former owner of my house with his twin girls. He's three houses away. Down the block is a young woman whose parents and sister all live in the 'hood.

I walked to the end of the road and discovered a trail through the greenbelt, at least the beginnings of one! The city organizes volunteers to clean out invasive stuff and plant trees once a month. You bet I'll be there. The day I went I found two people who I thought were homeless...but were more neighbors that live around the corner. They reported on the Cooper's hawk who is building a nest above their heads.

Tonight there is a writer's group after many months. I've combed through old poems and scratched away at a few new ones. And I submitted to a journal that asked for more work.

Now I'm going down the hill to the pool. I'm much closer to the pool than I used to be. Tra-la.
Then if there's no babies, I'll have to take the Felix out and work on poems. Maybe another curtain.

Did I say? I am going to love living here. It feels more private and it's all mine. Little by little, I'm remaking it as I want. Getting rid of the ugly, bringing in the beauty. And my old house goes on the market in a few weeks. When it will sell for lots and I can get rid of my rather intimidating debt and begin a remodel that will be a wonder to behold.