I Hear the Train a Comin’
Here we are, back in our desert digs. Insects took up residence while we were gone, and their remains, from when the spiders had their way with them, lay in the corners. Dust and cobwebs are everywhere. The ink has dried up in the printer and the poor plants are barely breathing. The grass is dead. The wine fridge is dead. The fridges in both the garage and the casita died last summer and my paints dried up along with them. My car [battery] is dead.
All the bathrooms smell funky, like something died. It dawned on me what causes the smell, it’s because the water in the U-pipes has evaporated. It’s no accident that the pipes under your sinks have that U-turn bend in them. Some clever plumber figured out that water in there would provide a barrier to keep odors from backing up into your house. When the water evaporates it becomes obvious what a good idea that was.
This is an older photo—please forgive—the grass is all dead and brown at the moment. Because it’s October, Dead Grass Month. The desert is a hostile place in the summer. We leave because we tried enduring it and failed. And you know what? It turns out I don’t like to have to leave my nest for that length of time. Screw that.
But now the desert is waking up, the temperatures at night are cool enough to sleep with the windows open (although it still gets up to 95 by day), and one can take a walk if one gets up early enough. I do, but I always seem to find other things to occupy my time.
I blogged recently that we were toying with the idea of moving back to the coast. Here’s the skinny on that—we found the perfect house in the perfect community in the perfect climate. You know how, when you walk into a house you just know? Well, it was like that. For both of us. We know what we like.
Look at this—hardly any yard, nothing to mow. Just a view of the hills beyond. All you need. We’re pretty excited.
I called my friend Joan, who is a real estate agent, and asked her to stop by to discuss what we should expect to get for this house—to aid us in planning our budget. She said that the beginning of the season is The prime time to list the house, that inventory is very low, and her company is right now pasting up their annual magazine Desert Homes and will have a huge spread in the next issue of Palm Springs Life, to kick off the season.
Whoa, this is moving way too fast. It’s like I have been catapulted into action at warp-speed. Chaos!
There is much to do. Granted, we have only lived here four years and we don’t have a lot of crap, so I guess it’s doable, but I am overwhelmed by the small amount of time there is to get everything done. One minute I say, I can climb this ladder, it’s just one rung at a time, no big deal. Hey. The next I am saying I need more TIME! But if we get it done, the house can be shown while we are out of town. Oh, that’s convenient—I like that idea. And we do need to sell it before we can even think of buying the next one. But so soon?