When I moved into this little house, I was greeted by a fireplace full of knick-knacks. Shortly thereafter, the house just stopped trying to impress me and started being its real self. That lead to a water problem culminating in The Great Toilet Smashing, which was followed by The Great Underground Rat Pool Leak, which is now being outdone by The Great Lock Misfortune, wherein the bolt lock jams if someone locks it from the inside, leaving anyone on the outside stuck. The "anyone" is usually me, and it always happens that I'm coming home just as my roommate has started a nap or crawled under the covers for the night.
Tomorrow is November, which means there are only ten days until the landlord comes for rent. Ten days until we can explain to him, in scattered Spanish and sound effects, that we need a new lock. A new door? Maybe just a new house.
Nah, it's not so bad. I'm rather fond of the little place, especially because it's so close to school. Our house may be many things, but it isn't awful. In fact, let's take a house tour right now!
This is the east end of the front patio. Please note the lovely pots hanging on the wall. They bear a strong resemblance to the many random decorations that used to be hanging inside the house--in far less symmetrical patterns--until the day we just couldn't handle looking at framed placemats and old calendar pictures anymore. Check out those inviting barred windows!
And here's the other side of the patio. It's a right friendly little place, especially now that the landlord ripped out the giant mint plant.
The entrance. Above the door is a clock with no hands. Next to the door: a rooster bell, a crusty panda, and a painted shingle. Why? There are no answers.
The front entryway, where you can see all the way to the back door. Head straight through that tasteful bright orange curtain to the back patio.
Or...take a sharp right into the living room, where we keep a hamster in the fireplace and a creepy woolen blanket in the strange corner cabinet.
This is the kitchen, where I don't do any cooking.
Here's the bathroom. Yep, that's a bidet directly across from the toilet. Yep, that's a giant water heater in the corner. Yep, that's daylight shining directly through the shower--it was installed over half a window. The other half is hidden behind cupboards and plastic flowers.
This is my room, which truly does have that amount of stuff on the bed at any given moment. As I type this, I'm surrounded by cartulina, grammar books, and sheets of paper.
The other side of the bedroom. All the earthly possessions that followed me to Camarma are stored either in that wardrobe or on that bookshelf.
The back patio. And a high-tech clothes dryer.
The other side of the back patio with a much more distinct view of the orange curtain, the plastic drying rack, and the little shed thing that we're not allowed to use.
Finally, the guest/storage room. If you decide to visit within the next six months, you can stay here, free of charge! Calming lavender walls, persianas that work most of the time, and a complete collection of delicately wrapped knick-knacks to remember Spanish days gone by--namely, the 70's. What's not to love?!
Bonus middle school quote of the day:
After being assigned to write a story about a time they felt like an outsider, one boy sat at his desk, eyes blankly scanning the room. "I don't have anything like that."
"Nothing?" I asked. "Has there every been a time you felt left out or awkward?"
"Well...I've always been the center of everything." He was quite earnest about this. Hmmm. I can think of about twenty-nine awkward instances in just one day of my middle school experience, so I try again.
"Can you think of one memory where you were an outsider? Maybe someone said something hurtful to you, deliberately made you feel like you didn't belong? Or you felt really alone?"
"Not really. I'm a sociable fellow." Baha!