May 03 2010
The Seeker
I went to check out a house for rent a couple of miles from here.
As I turned onto Gene Clark’s former road, the radio started playing “Feel a Whole Lot Better”.
The directions were typical of directions up here. Pass the llama farm, look for a certain mile marker, a strange stump. The road was also typical, narrow and rutted, full of puddles. A sign said, “Road narrows”, and I thought, “How is that possible?” It was, though, and the road got even rougher. Eventually, it became one tiny lane, semi-paved, curling and weaving through the redwoods. If another car was coming or going, one of you had to be polite and cower by the side of the road, fearing for your car’s paint job.
I laughed when I finally found the driveway, because it was actually in worse shape than ours – again, something I had previously considered to be outside the realm of possibility.
The house had its positive points. A kitchen with actual counter space (ugly, fake wood counters, but still) and a cute little window seat. A bathroom with an actual bathtub and cupboards. A big living room with French doors out to a wooden deck overlooking a fenced in yard. Closets! Even though they didn’t have doors. Much more usable space – the curved walls of my house ensure lots of wasted living space. But it was heated by one wood stove, far from the bathroom and the upstairs rooms. It would cost a fortune to heat a place that size, and I could tell it wouldn’t really be up to the job, either.
The house was also way too much of a handyman’s special for someone especially un-handy. Lots of rot around windows that leaked and should be replaced, etc. So it wasn’t for me, though I’m glad I took a look at it. Rob really dodged a bullet on that one.
As I jolted my way down the lane, it occurred to me that I seem to have a certain restlessness when it comes to housing. I spent half the time I lived in Oakland looking for other places to live, and I’ve only been here about six months and I’m already looking around. For someone who hates moving, I seem to move a lot.
Driving down the Ridge, I passed Rob in his truck and we waved. Pulling into the driveway, I passed Meg on her way out. We paused and talked through our open windows about our plans for the rest of the day, and went on our separate ways.
When I got home, I put the laundry out to dry in the sun. I’m hoping that the rain is finally over. We received nearly 50 inches this year, and got 300% of normal rainfall for April. The Sierra snowpack is at 143%, so I think we’re good. Oh, and I feel vindicated in all my complaining about the weather lately, since it was the coldest April since 1975.
As I carried the laundry outside, I ran into the PG&E meter reader. It was slightly awkward making conversation with him, knowing that he had already seen me naked.