So again, we're dancing around the idea of selling the house and moving inland, because living this far out on the mesa is becoming more and more depressing. Actually, the mesa isn't depressing. We love the mesa. We sing praises of the mesa. The mesa is beautiful! Now stop building houses on it.
No, what's depressing are the planned neighborhoods stocked with people who can't understand how we've gone seven years without producing two children and buying a minivan. It's a high school do over, and we're back to being the freaks who read.
(From what I can tell, reading for pleasure was banned in the neighborhood covenant, since every conversation I've had with neighbors begins with "you're a writer?" and ends with "well, I don't like to read much.")
Suburbs. Must get out. Out. Now.
Anyway, with those partially formed thoughts in mind, we took time this afternoon to drive past a possibility I had spotted in the paper last Sunday. English-style "cottage" that's bigger than this place, near downtown, with a garage (woo!) and attached workshop (read extra garage spaces possible, double woo!) , a "guest house" (who knows), and as silly as it sounds for Albuquerque, a white picket fence. And did I mention the price tag which is almost, almost doable?
Other things that make it just perfect on paper: rooms under the eaves and a sun porch and it's within walking distance of Slate Street Cafe. Seriously, if you let me have a slingshot, I could pass a boring Tuesday binging every politico, mover and shaker in the city on the head, and how awesome would that be?
But sun porches and slingshots aside, there are other variables at play before I can give the Realtor a jingle and demand to have a tour of the place: our house isn't currently for sale and god knows if it'd even sell in this market; the house (judging from the pictures I found online) would require some major revamping to make it ours, which probably wouldn't work on the "almost-doable" budget. There is only one garage spot. And also, we can afford the place we're in now, even if it is at the expense of our immortal souls.
Seriously. They want us to join their cult of the undead, and I! Ain't! Doin'! It!
Yeah. I should call the guy right now.
No, what's depressing are the planned neighborhoods stocked with people who can't understand how we've gone seven years without producing two children and buying a minivan. It's a high school do over, and we're back to being the freaks who read.
(From what I can tell, reading for pleasure was banned in the neighborhood covenant, since every conversation I've had with neighbors begins with "you're a writer?" and ends with "well, I don't like to read much.")
Suburbs. Must get out. Out. Now.
Anyway, with those partially formed thoughts in mind, we took time this afternoon to drive past a possibility I had spotted in the paper last Sunday. English-style "cottage" that's bigger than this place, near downtown, with a garage (woo!) and attached workshop (read extra garage spaces possible, double woo!) , a "guest house" (who knows), and as silly as it sounds for Albuquerque, a white picket fence. And did I mention the price tag which is almost, almost doable?
Other things that make it just perfect on paper: rooms under the eaves and a sun porch and it's within walking distance of Slate Street Cafe. Seriously, if you let me have a slingshot, I could pass a boring Tuesday binging every politico, mover and shaker in the city on the head, and how awesome would that be?
But sun porches and slingshots aside, there are other variables at play before I can give the Realtor a jingle and demand to have a tour of the place: our house isn't currently for sale and god knows if it'd even sell in this market; the house (judging from the pictures I found online) would require some major revamping to make it ours, which probably wouldn't work on the "almost-doable" budget. There is only one garage spot. And also, we can afford the place we're in now, even if it is at the expense of our immortal souls.
Seriously. They want us to join their cult of the undead, and I! Ain't! Doin'! It!
Yeah. I should call the guy right now.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home