Friday, November 14, 2008

Getting to know the neighbors...

...at least the non-human ones. This is Max, more accurately Maxine...



I already knew the human denizens before I moved in. And, for that matter, the cats. The various living beings make this a nice place.

It's still tiny, of course.

Work is on my mind tonight. I'm already beginning to feel a small sense of relief that the monthly nut has lowered considerably. What I was having to come up for in rent now covers everything -- the place, storage unit, utilities, food -- with a few coins left over.

Trash is on my mind, too. As in all the stuff coming out of the old pad. More of it will go straight in the dumpster, as I am already finding I can do what I do without it.

It's strange that we invest even small, insignificant items with a value well beyond their actual worth, simply because we got them under special circumstances or in interesting places. They rest in boxes or in the back of drawers, and contribute nothing to life except on those rare occasions when they come out (usually inadvertently) into the light.

And yet I hate to give them all up. My legacy for all these years is slim enough; taking away the trinkets seems to diminish me a little more.

Never mind. A lot of that is probably loneliness talking. I feel the lack of companionship acutely tonight.

At least this place is bustling with life. And strange new sounds, most of which have already become background noise.

Raccoons have returned to the neighborhood. So have opossums. They all seem to get along with the cats. And with the people.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

"Things" can be very difficult to part with. In some ways I envy those who have achieved a new kind of freedom from the clutter of so many things.

fin

emd said...

Raccoons, possums, and cats. You must still be in Pedro!

DAL said...

I have too many things that have NO sentimental value or monetary worth, I just hate throwing stuff away. I guess I don't really need all those cables and connectors and adaptors...

You can always take photos of everything before you toss them.

MrScribbler said...

emd -- I moved all of 50 feet away (or less)!

It's the next building over....

Birdie said...

I'm like dal...I just can't throw things out, or too much "stuff" has sentimental value attached. It's just "stuff" right? nope.... ;-)

I'm glad you're beginning to feel at least a bit comfy in your new abode.

Anonymous said...

I can almost hear the relief in your writing. Financial burdens are hell to carry, and it sounds like yours has become much more manageable. :)

I went on a "clean-out-everything-not-used" kick a couple of years ago, and I find I like the new uncluttered style much better. 'Course, I gave up on any sort of "legacy" a long time ago.

S

Kashew said...

I've always thought it would be completely liberating to lose everything.When the wildfires tore through here and I needed to pack only absolutely essential things, I was suprised by how little I DID take.Of course, I came back to a house intact and still full of "stuff". But the idea of losing it all intrigues me. Odd, eh?

The locals sound lovely

picaboblu said...

I have little of material value but lots of sentimental things. They aren't hidden away--I put things in clear jars and place on bookshelves, my hiking stick has all souvenir pins ever collected, my photo albums have paper things interspersed with photos. . .

ben said...

Losing everything does have it's liberating effects - but when you lose EVERYTHING - there are some things you miss - such as pics of your kid/s that are gone and irreplacable. Much of what we all store up in closets could easily be parted with and you would only "miss" it for a short time before you just shrug it off and move on to something else. I have made it a point to not start accumulating things after the disaster last year. I just get rid of stuff that isn't being used - sell it; give it away; chuck it.