Apartments

I’m kind of annoyed today. So I’ve got a blog and I can spew. Fifteen minutes max..

No spewing today. The maintenance guy very nice….they always are….really put in the effort to get my kitchen light working again. Now I can cook. I’m back to veg, but things are working. so I can do my limited cooking., roasted vegetables. I can do really good salads and soups, deviled eggs (with horseradish of course). Roast the tofu. on parchment with sesame oil. No fry. It sticks.

My first apartment on my own was a townhouse on the University of Illinois golf course. Bar chairs out to the patio, great views, sunny days. Soak it up. Great runs and bike rides on easy country roads.

Los Angeles. Loved so much my little studio in Brentwood. I could bike to Venice Beach south or Malibu north. Hike Santa Monica Mountains with a good grad school friend. With my Brother’s help, drove into Los Angeles very early, City of Lights. We got a pull out sofa (sometimes pulled out, usually not, just crash). No stove or oven, just one of those hot plate or whatever thingies (I wasn’t cooking, didn’t matter) but worked OK, as I was eating yogurt and salads. Day I passed my qualifying exams just floated in the pool, felt the calm.

Albany. Finished my dissertation cross legged on the floor sometimes late nights. Turned out well. Ran a lot, big circular drive, no traffic. And pool some sunny days. Then my husband and I moved into the ground floor of a 19th century mansion and I could run in Washington Park, short walk to ballet classes.

Austin. We had one of those developer apartments, south, so the commute to UT.. Pain. But it was OK. We could have breakfast and dinner on the balcony. And swim after dark in the pool.

My last embed in Austin was often great, sometimes turmoil. That’s all personal. But for a while had a very serene minimalist place my own, (clean closet, clean cabinets, got the photos), could open the balcony door next to desk and bookcases to write, fresh air, make salads at the kitchen island, and look out at the Alamo Drafthouse across the street. Walk my creative neighborhood to Lady Bird Lake on peaceful evenings.

That one big storm Austin not prepared for, no heat, electricity, but a valued friend walked over the ice to bring me some cheese and I think. maybe, bread. Why no croissants? Just what am I thinking, to myself. First World problem.

Of course my friend was very kind.

And all we residents wandering and laughing together, with the dogs, with our mobile phone lights, with no electricity, no elevators, stair walls. Be careful walking down stairs.. Dark. But we were dealing. The braver ones than me were out grilling in parkas. They were having a blast. Yay. I started reading as soon as it was light and kept up until I could make a salad before dark. It was February, too early dark. I think the latest Sylvia Plath biography, hundreds of pages. But I was better off than many people.

Austin is a very happy place but it’s not dealing with winter. Snow plows, nope. Don’t get on those three level freeways. nobody wants to flip. That stuff that gets put on ice, nope. I slipped strait on my back when I thought the ice was leftover rain but no, it was ice. Nice people came out of the stores in my building and helped me up. I ended OK.. My coat and boots ended OK. So superficial but love that coat and those boots. And my back. Thanks nice people.

The Austin apartment was perfect for me. But Austin, not cheap. And no consistent personal support system.

So back in blue state part Champaign-Urbana. I miss Austin very much and may be back there, maybe. Could be Chicago. Loft living on the Lake. Could be upstate New York. Taconic Parkway gorgeous. But not today’s problem.

For now, I live in one of most walkable neighborhoods here. Mansion Row. My parents just missed out on my favorite house just down the street.. A bid minutes before they offered theirs. Really cool Addams Family house. But we ended up living on a small lake where my Dad made a huge, really huge garden and taught all his grandkids to fish and row. In their own boats.

The trees have got so green, so fast. My Dad would wish to be back in his yard, doing what he loved, in spring.

Goldendoodles outside my desk window even when it’s cold. Soak up the adorableness.