42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

I don’t have the same feelings of regret as I did several months ago when I was moving. I guess because I was attached to my little house, warts and all. It was somewhere I had spent five years. I was also leaving the area I grew up, and that felt a bit sad too. All those goodbyes…

I have few regrets about my latest move. I’m not leaving my job or security of the known. I’m just moving across town. To a much quieter place lined with trees. To a place with more room. To a place without insane kids or stinky shopping carts. I’m not emotionally attached to the place I’m leaving. It was big enough for one person, but not two. I don’t know how entire families can fit into apartments that size. I guess I need to winnow down my books and movies if I want to figure out how to do that.

I like my old neighborhood. I think it was good for me to live there, so I wouldn’t be isolated from what Fresno truly is. A working-class town with people of all colors and ethnicities, with a widening gap between the haves and the have nots. A schizophrenic city of shopping centers, from downtrodden to upscale.
One part of town can feature immaculate landscaping and trees, and other
places can seem desolate with asphalt medians at best. Shopping carts park at bus stops with people. A contrast to the high-end cars on the other side of town.
Good shopping on one end of town, and interesting, more mom-and-pop shopping in other parts. Tiny neighborhood stores. Donut shops. A pizza place with the cashier behind glass. A security guard at the video store.

The other end of town is the immaculate end. The developing end. The place full of promise, at least for the people with money. Tons of new stores coming in, new houses. Though our immediate neighborhood has been there for a while. A beautiful new library (with not a lot of books yet) within walking distance.
You don’t see many wandering shopping carts. It’s quiet there. I’m not likely to find a shopping cart or skate ramp parked in front of my door. I’m not likely to find a trash sculpture aging in front of my car. Molding french fries moving positions, and a little Barbie skate added for good measure. Next trip, see barbecue sauce splattered in.

The new place is much bigger than the old one. More lighting. More overhead fans. Pretty much just about the size we need. Has a garage, complete with garage door opener. The access door leads a short distance to the walkway of the apartment, but there’s also an open walkway from outside. Lots of shrubbery outside.
A front door and also a patio door off the kitchen. A nice area to hang
windchimes. Have a doorbell!
An entryway with wood flooring, and a kitchen that is a little larger than the old one, but not big enough to put a kitchen table. Nice tile
countertops, but dated cabinets and a faux-wood paneled dishwasher, which tells you how old that is. Linoleum floor (one of the few drawbacks of the new place.)
A large livingroom that I’m sure normal people would consider the
livingroom/dining room. A fireplace on the far end, and huge patio doors
that open into a closed patio. With shrubbery for privacy.
The fireplace we laughed at because by my dad’s standards, it never gets
cold enough in this part of California for a fire. It has to be at least
below freezing and preferably with snow on the ground. Extra bargaining
points if it’s a holiday. It’s wood burning, and since air pollution is such a problem here, I don’t see having any fires.
Interesting little nooks on either side of the fireplace, and a weird
architectural detail from the stairwell. A carpeted closet under the stairwell. A washer and dryer nook. And a half-bath, all downstairs.
Upstairs, it’s two bedrooms. Both appear to be bigger than the old, with
vaulted ceilings and huge closets. And identical bathrooms connected to both bedrooms. They’re probably slightly bigger than the one bathroom we have now. The only drawback upstairs is no linen closet. But not sharing a tiny drawer in one bathroom will be nice.

We’ve been moving piecemeal. Taking loads of boxes at a time. This morning is when the movers come to lift the heaviest stuff. We don’t know if we’re saving any money by moving some of the stuff ourselves, once you factor in the cost of gas (about $2.55 per gallon), but we’ve taken delight in taking loads. If only because after most loads, we collapse onto the carpet with happiness (and tiredness, to be sure) and revel at the space. We like the new place. We’re excited about it.
We talk about where the furniture will go. Hope that it’ll all fit. Plan a reading nook on one end of the livingroom. And I’m hoping I can make another one work in my bedroom upstairs.
Room for all my bookcases. Room to spread out.

I kind of wish this was a house I could buy. Because I think it’s perfect, for right now. But housing prices being what they are, I doubt I could afford a condominium this spacious.

So I’m not sad to be moving, and just really tired of moving. I suspect the cats are too. But I keep telling myself they’ll have all that space, and two patio doors to stare out now. Kitty heaven!