the pineaway

at dawn i was still awake and looked at the milky gray sky, thinking "what a dreadful, bleak, horribly windy day!"

at ten i was still awake so i called about an apartment in a wooden house, in another, smaller town. i was told there was a showing in the afternoon. i thought no way am i going to go. but i did. fueled by cream soda (caffeine & corn syrup) i boarded the bus and was driven through an alpine postcard sans alps. brightest sunshine and snow-covered woods.

the wind was still horrible, especially so close to the sea, but i loved it. the apartment was lovely but too impractical. no oven besides the woodburning, so-and-so one, just burners on top of the fridge! lots of room but not much useful space. and i could tell there was no way i would be allowed to paint the walls: no pets and no herb garden by the door, maybe around the corner somewhere... i met the owners, they lived across the yard in the main house. nice people, served me tea and biscuits when i got dizzy and weak from the bus journey and nerves (and not sleeping but that i kept to myself). their bathroom was bigger than my current apartment! not in an exaggerated way, really a lot larger. there was a claw tub on the wooden floor and from the toilet seat there was a long way to walk to the sink.

it was all a bit too perfect, too... i don't know. my gut tells me not to go there. could be that i'm just terrified of the change. but when i saw the apartment i now live in, i knew i wanted it in an instant, and was nervous about whether or not i was going to get it. now i'm just thinking what excuse i should give when i decline... although i got the feeling the owners were hoping for more applicants. there was only one other woman. i hope they find who they are looking for.

and i hope i do too. find the home i need. with a proper, working, old-fashioned kitchen and a patch of land to dig and plant.

at eleven i'm still awake, but not for long...