Thursday, May 13, 2010

Small Spaces: Mobile and Domestic

Several things of note happened yesterday. And several things of note have happened today.

First, Mom arrived safely. Right after she got here and the cats got some love from Nana, I put together "the bridge" that makes it possible to turn the front dinette back into a bed if I want. Dad had cut all the pieces and even sent screws and the right bit. (He's so thorough.) Putting the side pieces on was no problem, but when I went to put the inch-thick piece of plywood on the supports (the foam would go on top of that to make the bed), I realized that when we screwed on the seat tops last summer, we didn't screw them in square, so it took a little bit of maneuvering to get the bridge piece in there. Smacking it with a hammer didn't do it, but I sat on it, and that worked. I put the bridge foam in place and covered the whole shebang with a sheet. I laid down on it and it worked fine for me, but Mom's the one who's going to be sleeping on it, so she laid down on it--and her feet don't even touch the end. Hooray! Success! I don't expect that I'll need the extra bed much, but it's a nice option to have.

Second thing of note: we had a humdinger of a thunderstorm. The Weather Channel called it a Severe Thunderstorm--and they actually delivered on their promise, unlike the weather around Bowling Green. It was delightful. Mostly. I never realized how loud it gets in here when it's raining so hard, but then, I've never tried to carry on a conversation in here when it's raining before either. (The things you don't know when you camp alone...) Galway's been through lesser thunderstorms that scared him more, but last night, he was curled up at my feet, oblivious. I don't understand that furball. But I suspected that the window over my feet would leak, and I was right, so when it started, I took a hand towel, folded it a couple of times, and then used one of my C clamps to clamp it to the windowsill. I was glad that I checked it later, because the towel was sopping wet and starting to drip on my bedding. I changed the towel to a dry one and the second one didn't get as wet. I'm thinking that the Scamp is going to the doctor up in Backus (the Scamp factory) when I get up to MN this summer. Arg.

After the rain stopped, the four of us settled in pretty well. Maeve curled up with Mom on the front bed, Galway with me on the back bed. I think they changed positions sometime in the night, but for me, it's hard to tell when. Mom might have a better idea of that, since they seemed to jump on her head when they jumped onto the front bed. Mom said this morning that the funniest was when Galway fell asleep on her side, as she was laying on her side. About 4:30 this morning, the antics started, which pissed me off more than it usually does, simply because if it's just me, that's one thing, but Mom's here. It was not a pleasant half hour. But then things calmed down and we all went back to sleep for another three hours.

Which brings us to this morning: what a gorgeous day. The clouds were still our skyscape when we got up this morning, but it didn't take long for them to clear away and now we've got beautiful blue sky and sunshine. I have hopes for a fire tonight. Our purpose for being in Lincoln is to find a living space for me. I hate apartment hunting. I've gotten picky in my old age and now that it's Day 4 of this Herculean task, I'm only holding onto the tiniest shred of hope that the perfect place will fall into my lap. I am enamored of small-space living (hence the basic appeal of the Scamp), so moving into a smaller place that fits my new PhD student budget is not particularly problematic. What I find problematic is that I've gotten very picky in my old age: I need a place that allows cats, has a washer and dryer in my apartment, and has space to park the Scamp. After four days of searching, my priorities have rearranged themselves and then decided to play Rubik's Cube among themselves. Also among my priorities: walking distance to the university (because parking is a nightmare) and not living with undergrads.

Right now, here's how it stands: nothing has all of my wants, at least not in my price range. So I'm about ready to say yes to an old house that's been converted into several very different apartments (very, very cool)--but I can't move into an apartment that will work for me right away. I would have to move into a studio until August, when I could move into a one-bedroom (the problem isn't that it's tiny, the problem there is that it doesn't have a bathtub and I like baths). There are two apartments that will come available either in December/January or March and I could very easily move again into one of those that I would be much happier in (and conceivably stay there for the next five years). Obviously, the thought of multiple movings is not appealing. But it seems to be my best option right now.

There's really no options to park the Scamp anywhere at any of the places I've looked at, which nearly triggered a panic attack as Mom and I were driving around. But Mom's got the patience of a saint (which is why any of this week will work out at all) and we talked through my options and I think what we've decided as my best option for the Scamp is to bring it north in July (the time of my niece's baptism) and store it in the garage at my grandparents' cabin. And there it will stay. I think that I will have to confine my camping to northern Minnesota for the next few years, come up north for a couple of weeks in the summer, take the Scamp somewhere for a short trip, and bring it back to the Cabin. That might have to be the sacrifice I have to make, because the thought of selling it is abhorrent. This way, I won't have to pay for storage and I'll know it's safe in a place I can trust.

So, at least at this point, overwhelmed and mentally exhausted as I am, I'm trying to put the best spin on things. I can handle this, it will not be the end of the world, and everything will work out fine.

1 comment:

  1. As usual, I find your essays quite intriguing. I'm so glad your mom is there with you. Even though you lean toward hermitism (word?), there are times when it's nice to have moral support, and this sounds like one of those. I think your plans for the scamp sound perfect. Multiple moves is quite abhorrent unless you follow my Jayson's mode and literally live out of as few boxes as possible until you finally reach your actual destination.

    We're at the lake, and it's 60, but sunny and gorgeous, here. The promise is for 70's, and that would be wonderful. I woke and the sun was shining. I looked out the window, and THERE IT IS! Ahhh, we're at the lake.

    Today may you find your perfect living accommodations. Di