Un Pied-à-Terre

lake cottageThose of you who either know me, or have been following my writing, probably remember that I have been living the life of a gypsy, sans the bright billowing skirts and heavy eye makeup, in trying on new homes and landscapes. 

More than once, I’ve been accused of collecting new homes like some women collect new shoes.

Homes are a lot more fun.

I am now nearing the end of my current lease and have been in search of a new home, although, for the first time in almost thirty years, I know exactly where I want to live and am just waiting for my new home to find me.  I really feel part of this community — the lake, the landscape, my new friends and neighbors.

My friends have all been looking for what at times seems to be an illusive rental and I’ve followed up on all their leads.  I’ve even run a small “wanting to rent” ad that has actually gotten a few responses.

I know from experience that the universe will bring me the perfect home. She always does.  I can always count on the perfect home, at the perfect time, in the perfect location.

In fact, a friend had told me of one such possible rental, nestled among tall redwood and wide oak trees. The house itself is admittedly vanilla, without much spark or personality. But, it does back onto the golf course and is directly across the street from a small park that sits on our lake….all of which means both coveted golf course and lake views as well as easy lake access for grandkids and kayaks.

My realtor has been working to connect the owner, a lease and me.

So it came as a bit of a surprise last weekend, when I received an unexpected email in response to my ad.

We have a charming lakefront rental…

Lakefront?  Lakefront?  The extremely impossible to find lakefront rental?

Panoramic lake views from every room…Two bedrooms, a library, great room with kitchen and dining, large bonus room, two full baths — one with a spa tub — and additional half baths. Three sets of french doors onto the deck and the lake beyond.

Be still, my heart.

and, if you have a boat, there’s a dock included.

I don’t have a boat, but the rental was well within my budget.

I started packing.

Then, I saw the house, which was really more of a small cottage. It was charming.  Definitely charming. Even enchanting. Exposed beams, french doors and panoramic views. Light and breezy.  For a brief moment, I thought I was in the south of France. 

I immediately started envisioning living in this romantic, storybook cottage and how I could possibly fit my furniture into the small space.

Alas, there were also some challenges. A lot of the owner’s furniture needed to stay, leaving minimal room for my belongings. That included the books already taking up every nook and cranny in the small library.  Sigh.

Parking was difficult as was the staircase leading down to the rental. The great room was actually a small room, which may have been workable for me, but not if I had friends or family visiting. And, truth be told, there were numerous remodeling needs that, despite being hidden by wall hangings, had not, and would not, be addressed.  Deep Sigh.

The views were spectacular until speedboats, complete with screaming motors, skiers and passengers, shattered the quiet. And access to the water was difficult.  It was an immediate deep drop, so getting in and out with the kayak would be near impossible. Deeper sigh.

ah, reality. On the other hand, it seems like the universe does have the perfect home in mind…not lakefront, but lake view which may be even more perfect.

















Where there’s smoke…

…there’s usually fire.

I could well be talking politics.

Hillary, the server, the emails, the FBI, the DOJ and the GOP.  If the GOP is so adamant that her actions constituted criminal behavior, I wonder if they will also include former Secretaries of State Powell and Rice for identical indiscretions.

The Donald, white supremacists and the relatively few GOP members willing to say “The Trump has no clothes.” I sent an email to thank Sen. Lindsey Graham (R, South Carolina) for his critical words. I also need to thank Gov. Romney. 

But, it’s still all a worry.  Fire, smoke or as an old friend noted, I’m beginning to worry that we won’t pass our national IQ test in November.

Today, however, I’m really writing about fire.  Actual fire. Forest fire. Thousands of acres in flames and thick dark smoke in the middle of a very oppressive June heatwave.

It made for a lot of indoor time, if only to protect one’s lungs.

The options for entertainment were relatively few, after rejecting cable news or house cleaning.  The resident cat wasn’t even much of a distraction, given that he spent most of his time sprawled on his back atop of his favorite bed and under the breeze of a spinning ceiling fan.

Left to my own devices, I pulled out the sewing machine and began piecing new quilts for our local Linus group.

The quilts are actually getting better — although an experienced eye will note there are no triangles, circles, hexagons or other assorted geometric shapes showing up.  But, the squares and rectangles are getting straighter and better aligned and I’m growing more confident with color and design.

Regardless of the quality of my work, I figure the teens and preteens who will be receiving these quilts won’t be that critical…

which might well say something about the differing outlooks of youth and adults…

and that gives me reason to smile, despite the heat, the fire and the smoke, all of which are now fading into a June memory, and the politics, which are just now heating up for an anticipated autumn inferno.