foliage

One of the few things on earth that comes between mr dd and I may surprise you: vines. Not vineyards... no... although he probably wouldn't be excited about the prospect of taking care of vineyards or growing them against the side of our house - like they do in Germany and France.

I've realized of late that there may be some history here.... because I grew up with an ancient wisteria bush beside our house. It bloomed every year and the base of the plant consisted of vines as thick as a tree trunk. It was an amazing specimen that wrapped itself around an old swingset that hadn't been used for several generations.

My father ran amuck at some point while I was away at university... probably dealing with issues of control... but I can't remember if it was before or after my Mom left home... the result was he had the wisteria vine and most everything else growing on that side of the property taken out. It appalled me to discover this and there was nothing that could be done. I couldn't cry or pout or yell. I just accepted the fact that he would never "get" why I was so upset. NOW, I worry that mr dd is much the same. We go round and round over the Virginia Creeper and whenever I am away he'll pull it down. Virginia Creeper is a desirable decorative vine that gardeners CULTIVATE in Europe and train to cover their property. It is perhaps more desirable than ivy since it doesn't attach as strongly and work its way into grout.

SO - while I worked in Germany last month I photographed every building, ancient or new, which featured trained ivy or creeper and would email them to mr dd - who loves all things german and french. All of my neighbors poo poo my love of the vine - and strangers feel compelled to tell me how "bad" it is for the structure of our home and I just look at them and want to ask them where they live and how old their house is.

One of the highlights of the 4th of July happened when we arrived at a cookout to see the side of the hosts' home covered with ivy.... a host who mr dd has a great deal of respect for...(!)
I said, "sweetheart, please come over here, I want to show you something!"
He walks over and lean my head toward the wall. He looks and says: "Ivy." I said yes, "Ivy!"
The wife of host walks over and asks what is wrong and said - "oh, everything is right!" and I explained our vine dilemna. She said mr host had researched it and as long as the ivy doesn't get into your woodwork the house is fine... mr dd said: "Oh."

I love discovering simple pleasures in unexpected places!

BAM BAM BAM

Ok. Today I am experiencing

Mittelschmerz

not so good but I'll try to convey the events of the sounds implied in the title of this post.
I heard a noise outside... then a knock at the door. We have a locked gate between our front door and the sidewalk so I assumed it was a knowledgeable neighbor or friend.. someone who knows the secret entrance. I threw on a coat since I was half dresssed and ran downstairs. As I was descending the stairs I heard a BAM BAM BAM using the knocker on the door... and I suspected something was wrong.

I glanced out the curtain of the door and I saw a cleancut young man in a suit and I said "just a minute..." I opened the door and there was a man standing in a defensive posture with a badge in his hand... jutting it into my face. "FEDERAL MARSHALL" he said. There was another young man in a suit standing at the top of the stairs... his back up, I guess.

I thought... "oh shit. Did we not pay a parking ticket? What the fu.....???" And he asked if "Lynn Hen......'" lived at this address. I said "no." "Lynn H.... hasn't lived in this house for more than five years but that occassionaly we'll still receive mail addressed to this person... that one of the reasons we have a locked gate is that the house was a half way house when we purchased it."
"OH, he said..." He hasn't changed that, even." And then he said "Thank you, Mam" and they turned to leave. I asked if I could unlock the gate for them so they wouldn't have to crawl over the fence or climb through the bushes... and they asked if I was sure I didn't want them to stay ... since I need to have a locked gate, etc. (ha, ha)

Its funny. It was this brief interlude in an otherwise ordinary day... still... I walked upstairs and my heart was pounding. I realized they didn't look as much like marshalls as they looked like actors playing federal marshalls... that they must have learned everything they know from watching "Law and Order..." I told Mr. dd the story and he also had a good laugh.

I am amazed. I have a locked gate and I STILL have strange people and things arriving at my door! Karma, I guess.

More Today

The Long Hot Summer

The passing of June is always tough for me. July and August are hard - even for a southern girl like me. June is a month of optimism. Summer spreads out before us... everyone is still making their summer plans. Parties, cookouts, home projects, creative endeavors are all possible. During July and August anything could happen. Hurricanes, drought, ticks, mosquitoes, poison ivey, etc, etc. When things go a certain way I manage to escape and do business elsewhere - an elsewhere that is either more forgiving or airconditioned.

When things don't go that way I somehow manage to get through it here, working in an unairconditioned studio with a car that has no ac either. I can't tell you how much I hate it. We aren't car people anyway... so its a test of endurance. If we could get away without having one we would. Our work requires we pay to have a car sit in front of our house 90 percent of the time... but that's another post.

One way I manage to endure the heat is the reward of something cooler and sweeter happening in late August... a trip, perhaps. Not this year! Mr dd and I both have big deadlines in the early fall and have taken a trip or two earlier this season due to weddings and family gatherings... SOOOOO.... we'll be counting the days and watching the forecasts and getting through the long, hot summer. Maybe the sounds of Paul Newman and Joey Woodward will echo in our heads to remind us of the prolific art that can born of summer heat.

bliss

M and L tied the knot a week ago. M is a remarkable woman and an equally remarkable friend. Mr. dd and I are so happy for them. We had a phenomenal time in at their wedding. It was part Godfather, Sopranos and Sex and the City. I guess M was most like Charlotte. A real romantic in search of an honorable man. She certainly dated more than her share of charming scoundrels. I've been there. Its fun while its fun and then its not. My sister is still in charming scoundrel mode though I fail to see the charms of her current scoundrel.

M and her maid of honor arranged all of the roses above and moved from the rehearsal dinner to the reception. She's my kind of princess. Ready to get her hands dirty doing whatever it takes to do the right thing for the right people so she can prioritize her resources. We admire her and love her and wish them both the greatest happiness.

accepting the unthinkable

There were many discussions about our nation's gun laws in our home last night. I once considered myself a pacifist but does a pacifist protect oneself and others? Can someone who exercises self defense be a pacifist? We don't like watching violence in television or film though I love the Sopranos. My husband doesn't.

A friend who was here last night working on my computer while CNN and MSNBC blared on the tube is a libertarian of sorts and he said that a similiar situation had been averted at JMU years ago because someone in their library had a gun and shot the gunman before he could kill any more people. Only one person died as a result and JMU is the one campus in Virginia that allows guns on campus. I don't think that is the answer but its an argument that I didn't anticipate.

Mr. dd and I both have a very hard time watching and anticipating violence. We covered our eyes during much of the film Pan's Labrynth because we didn't expect it. (I don't read reviews before I see a film. They usually reveal too much.) Anticipating violence changes everything. Do we need to live our life in a way where we anticipate the unthinkable?

We have a locked gate at the entrance to our property. I know some of our neighbors probably think we aren't very neighborly but we welcome THEM... its the solicitors and the unexpected appearance of crazies or miscreants we discourage! I am one of those southern girls who has deprogrammed myself from opening my door to anyone who shows up at it. That's a lesson I learned the hard way, believe me.

Its pointless to analyze what happened at Virginia Tech until all the evidence is in... but one thing is certain in my mind - classes should have been canceled after the first two murders with the person still at large. One big problem with todays news media is that one rarely hears of disaster averted by those who take extreme precaution. Those are the stories I'd like to hear. The kids that barricaded the doors of their classrooms are the real heroes on that campus.

How do we address the unthinkable? The horror? How does one prepare for such things? I know I can't expect anyone to protect me. I learned that when I was mugged in Barcelona. There were many people around me that could have stopped the mugger I was chasing. No heroes there. No one tried to trip him or block his path. Life ain't like it is in the movies until its too late... and then its a made for TV movie.

moi mamaw

My grandmother is 87 years old today. She's a tough bird, as described in the link embedded in the title to this post. Her father, who I never met, is described as being a lot like her - very ornery as he crept into his 80's. My Dad said he would bitch and complain all the time but was always productive. He would sit on the back porch and snap peas and kill flies with a fly swatter (He called it a fly flapper!) After he finished snapping peas he would collect all the flies and feed them to the chickens!

My grandmother is so ornery because she spends her days sitting under flurescent lights with a
drop ceiling and a TV set. She uses a walker to get to her meals and she plays bingo several days a week. She wins a lot and always gives the money back!

I called her today to wish her Happy Birthday. She's a little deaf but we had a great conversation anyway. She's always inspired me to be a better gardener (I am a lazy gardener) but I must admit I love it. She would be less ornery and feel better if she could garden... if she could put her hands in the dirt. She told my dad she felt closest to God when her hands were in the soil. I love that about her.

Spring cleaning

Things come and go. Our downstairs fridge exhaled its last breath and I've decided to replace it with a compact. Our alley clean up is next month so it is a good time to drag the old one behind the house and wait for it to disappear.

Once the old one is gone, well, then there is the task of cleaning behind it... and situating the new one in its place. This is the time to raise the curains, enjoy the view of the garden and drag out the old and replace it with something recycled, if possible. It was tough, deciding whether to buy a new smaller fridge or a second hand larger fridge. In the end, the possibility of a lower electrical bill won out - plus we are trying to buy less and buy fresh...more european and less processed. I've planted lettuce and spinach this year for the first time! I love picking the leaves from the pot and putting them directly on the plate. Yum.

We aren't very domestic, mr dd and I. We'd like to be. Better yet, we'd love to hire a wife or a husband to help us with these tasks. When Mr. dd asked me to marry him I said "Darling, I'll marry you and spend the rest of my life with you but I cannot commit to being anyone's 'wife..." He got it. He married me anyway. We manage. We manage best when we have the time and money to hire a house keeper.

Lost Frames

One of the few frames I shot with the old camera after the floors were redone in our old house.


July 2006 has set records on a number of levels. Yes, its been the hottest month on record and been one of the most intense summers on record... in my life anyway. More teaching committments than usual plus the odd opportunity to work in the Pyrameens during the month of August. I've been running through this intense heat on an empty tank and I am afraid it shows.

Ugh. One of the worst days was this past Sunday when I couldn't find my digital camera. I looked and I looked and I looked and I needed it - like immediately! Plus I knew my departure yesterday was imminent and there was no time to take the house apart any more than I already had. I began the search for a replacement. I learned that the digital flash card I have been heavily invested in since 1998 has been phased out and that Sony is using another kind of card. This was not good news. No reason to buy Sony if I can't use my accessories. Web research made me more depressed. Oh, the pain of media that is obsolete! I finally called Circuit City and spoke to someone in their digital camera department to see if they had anything that accepted the old memory card - preferrably an open box model. THEY DID. I basically purchaced my old model in a different color for 1/s the price I paid for the original. SUPER.
Everything was compatible. I began utilizing my replacement tool documenting work I was leaving for a September show, our newly renovated house that is being rented, etc, etc , etc.
Yeah!

Thursday I was late for class having stopped for petro at an out of the way place (everything in the tidewater area seems out of the way...) and I had no choice - the warning light was blinking!
I rushed to class and began to download my photos so I could prepare some files for the gallery. Whaaaaaa? Files are gone. They were there - now they aren't. There are NOWHERE.
Oh, I am sick. I start thinking of the lost frames and so many of them I need or worse, are irreplaceable.

The artwork I am showing was inventoried. MY memory sure doesn't serve this function well.
Our house in its somewhat pristine splendor - now the new tennants will have had a chance to
leave their mark.

The photos of DC in his studio... of his new work.... of his long tall frame sitting on top of a ladder in his studio.... (his old new studio since he has now returned to the same space in which our friendship began in 1986) the frames of him just being himself like he used to be when we would sit and yack about art and its magic so long ago.

Then there are the images of our black venus, Jarene, who drove up while I was trying to leave... intensely distracted by the many things waiting for me at home... this car pulls up with my former friend now nemisis in the passenger seat - I pretend not to notice - and continue my yacking with CD - and I look over and there she is with her arms out... back from Miami with a an 11 month old in tow. Who woulda thunk it? When I met her back in the 80's she as the carrot on all our sticks as far an a mentor for all things that involved merry making and tribal dance.... the ambisexual goddess and mother of us all - (we miss her. we need her. Now she is a wife and mother and we are all grown up) The frames of her and her beautiful son who looks two years old are gone.... sigh.

I know there are others... but the finale was at the out of the way petro station. The cashier was a large elegantly dressed black woman. She had it all... and on top of that she must have had at least 5 gold rings on each of her ten fingers. Each finger featured a long, pink polished nail that just shimmered as she clacked through the cash register and all that cash. It was mesermizing - the green bucks, the pink nails and the gold rings. I had to take her photograph. I went out to my car and got my camera and came back in and asked her if I could photograph her hands. (I was a cashier in my youth back in the day when one really had to know how to count change and use a cash register...) She was thrilled to oblige and gave me the greatest shots - counting change, grasping the end of the register with all those rings on each finger... it was so AMERICAN - so southern - so gothic - so something. Very symbolic of our obsession with consumption if nothing else.

All gone. Sigh. I wanted to somehow record these images in this form before I lose them. I've been at Newark for the past 6 hours and will soon depart for France with intermittent web access and new experiences that will fill my random access memory. If only I could upgrade before I go! There is this - and that is good. If I could count on my memory and access to its data I wouldn't have as much incentive to write.

Oh, and as I was packing the night prior to my planned Friday departure (which was cancelled due to weather conditions in NYC) I was organizing papers and there was the friggin camera in a plastic bag with some other digital media!!! Oh, the irony. Plus, a student I have this term practices ESP. She told me should would think about my camera on her way home (an hour drive east) as I drove an hour west.) She emailed me that night and told me should thought my camera was either in my car or house under something thin... maybe cloth. Well I had been hauling that damn camera back and forth with me all week in a very thin plastic bag. It was surely under cloth whenever I put my towel or blouse in the big straw bag I was using to schlep things back and forth. I am happy to have the back up camera and probably wouldn't have been able to get one if I had waited until I would normally upgrade. C est la vie.
Too many things and not enough clock. The story of our life.

String Theory

How could it be - (but then how could it not be) that Mr. DD and I were slow dancing to some sort of Cajun Blues in the salt water pool on Tuesday night with a lovely floating sprinkler spraying cool water all over our salty bodies... and then 8 hours later eveything turns sour.

I received an email from a young woman I've gone out of my way to accomodate regarding housing. She is a Katrina ex-patriot who is trying to start a new life here - for awhile anyway. I am sorry to say she took advantage of me and as much as I was looking forward to getting to know her as a neighbor I am glad she isn't moving in. Better to know someone's true colors now before I've invested even MORE time than I can afford to spend. Daylights burning and all that...

For the past week I've been speeding up and down the interstate, an hour each way, to commute to a class I am teaching for the next two weeks. Anyone who has been reading this blog for awhile probably knows that the automobile is my least favorite mode of transport, never mind that its an unairconditioned automobile... If one enjoys commandeering a speeding furnace at 75 mph or more - well - they must be NASCAR fans... which I am not. It could be worse. At least its not I95.

This is not the week for friends, family or strangers to waste my time. Other weeks I look for distractions... not this one. Every day I watch the roads like a hired gun in search of a radar detector. I try to avoid patrolmen and stay behind someone traveling slightly faster than me. It is as close to unbearable as I can imagine spending two hours a day - the return trip each afternoon being the worst.

Yesterday I finally remembered to pack my swim suit and goggles and stopped by the salt water pool on the way into town. Ahhhhhhh. It made such a difference having a cool place to dive into rather than walking into my hot house and annoyed cats. Finally, I thought, as I drove home, this is the way to do it. I can get through this two week run if I drive directly here when I pull into town. I was relaxed! I was cool! I was in heaven! I came down the hill past
the Diamond like a cool breeze - until I saw the white patrol car sitting at the bottom of the hill. It was too late. I don't even know how fast I was driving. He turned on his lights. I pulled over. I was still in my swim suit and hadn't even had time to put on my seat belt. He was a giant arse about the hows or the whys and gave me two tickets. Its amazing how one can feel so good one minute and the next minute feel like they are having a heart attack it hurts so
bad. Of course its not the money. Its the (**&*@ insurance and driving record that I hate to think about. I haven't told Mr. DD since he pays the insurance premiums in our house.He has his own history with the DMV. Soon enough.

After my fall from relaxation I drove home, belted into the blastingly hot seat and waited for a contractor to show up. We had a 7pm appointment. I started drinking at 7:30 to ease my distress and impatience with the world and called him at 8pm after waiting for an hour. Don't tread on me this week, world. I've had enough! I realized this morning that I left town without my DL, Am EX, VISA and Debit card. It had better be at home or I am super screwed since I am leaving for France on the 28th. Triple sigh....

Please, please, please, lets snip this string of bad luck before it tangles up the rest of my time this month. Any prayers, good spells, candles or wishbones you can send my way would be appreciated.

Weeding the Garden

Tomorrow Mr. DD and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. We chose the summer solstice to be married on as a symbol of our love and the productive and promising parntership we were embarking on. Ten years later our love has endured but mid-life crisis and creative stasis are the likely culprits impairing our professional lives. These dark clouds pull us down. At least we are both in a slump. It's harder when one is riding the wave and the other is lost in the tidewater. Like the image above, from a Sam Shepard play I really loved, these times of faithlessness are universal, so southern, so familiar.

Mr. DD and I are both very much like those sleeping plants that will endure neglect almost indefinitely but as soon as the rains come or someone takes it upon themselves to encourage their growth with a wee bit of care and nourishment they flourish. We have tried to be that for each other and that is enough to keep us going but it isn't enough to propel us off the creative plateaus we both seem to be stuck on.

Oh, its a good bet our ideas are worthy of pursuit (have you been to the movies or an art gallery lately?) but there is that existential WHY? What does it really matter one way or the other? Perhaps we aren't hungry enough or ambitious enough anymore. We used to think it mattered and that was enough.

One thing I did about ten years ago was try to cultivate healthier friendships. I had a lot of crazy friends whose lives were always full of drama and as a consequence mine (always behind the scenes) was equally dramatic. These crazy makers were interfering with my work and goals do I decided to make some changes. It was a good thing in the end but it was hard. I just walked away and left the garden behind.

During my 20's and early 30's there were times when I wanted to walk out the door and never look back. I don't miss that. I don't feel like that NOW... well maybe sometimes... a little... but like then, it passes. For one thing I have Mr. DD now and I would never leave him. Together, well, it would be good for us but it wouldn't be easy. He's a native son and all that... his voice is relevant here and we would miss that.

Have House. Need tenant.

The third Star Wars is on. I've never been able to follow it completely since I've never seen the 2nd one plus Lucas' films truly suffer from being broadcast on cable TV in regular analog. C'est la vie.

We could be pawning our wee color tube unless we line up a tenant for our house on the Hill. Its been one thing after another with that place. Today I had to come up with 4500 bucks to replace the roof on the house and porch. Next week I'll have the floors taken care of... Another 2500 dollars. While I do this I wonder... where is our tenant?

One thing I've learned over the past year or so is that renting a place furnished makes a huge difference in how the property is treated by the resident. For one, getting all their stuff in and out of the space always results in some kind of damage. Then, since they are surrounded by all their STUFF they relax and treat it as if it is their own. In the olden days - like when I was in college - this meant that the place was usually improved upon just because it could be...
this is not the case today. Between the pets they bring in illegally, the nail holes and overall negligence being a landlord is pretty discouraging. I wish I could afford to use the house as my studio. Its a sweet 1910 cottage on a huge lot.

I spent most of the afternoon taming the lawn there and am now nursing blisters. I should have worn gloves. Next time. Tomorrow the step brother of a friend is supposed to mow the lawn. We'll see. He hasn't returned my call so I am not anticipating he'll be there. Should I sell this place? Maybe. Just maybe. We'll see what happens this month. June seems to be the hardest time to list a rental property. Last night Mr. DD and I were foraging through our garage which is now a storage space and came across a mysterious plastic bag full of coat hangers. I realized it was something we probably pulled from our trash when one of our tenants moved out. They'll throw away ANYTHING: alarm clocks, lamps, clothing, books, stationary, telephones, etc, etc, etc. I was organizing the coat hangers and remembering the tenant - she was an MBA. Blonde, discreet. Preppie. Her boyfriend was studying medicine and lived a few blocks away. My picture of her was altered slightly when at the bottom of the bag I discovered two very odd p0rn zines (with photos from the 70's - very retro) and a purple diId0! Mr. DD thought it was hilarious and would make a great cat toy for our kitten. Yes, yes, I have my very own prevert...

The difference between where I rent property and where I WISH I could rent property is illustrated above. I discovered this sweet little square this past spring. I had walked past it many times before I realized it was a public square surrounded by apartment buildings, condos, ateliers, etc. Both public and private, the French seem more comfortable with the duality and differences between their inner and outer worlds.

Whittling Away at reasons for being here

This week I learned that a partner I work with is getting married and moving to NYC. Last night I had a premonition that today came true. I wonder if the fiancee is brave or foolish in their decision? Today I asked this same question of myself when I realized that the other two partners in our building will likely want to sell this place within two years. Was I brave or foolish to invest my resources with them? Sources say it was a combination of both seasoned with a taint of desperation.

I was tired of developers running the show so certainly would have avoided this project if I had known this would happen. I thought I was investing in creative independence and studio longevity with two other artists who wanted the same. Nope. Just the real estate. Its all about the money.

Again, the money. Again. I've been trying to understand the detachment I've felt growing inside me for the past month. Am I looking for reasons to leave this place or has the Universe been trying to tell me something I haven't been ready to hear? I don't think Mr. DD and I can deal with another studio move. We thought we'd made my last one but when this happens I think it will be time to get rid of everything. Art, materials, furniture. Is there another documentary in the works?

At least I know not to spend another dollar on the space there. I met with a contractor last week regarding summer projects. Now I am sorry I wasted both of our time.

I am trying to look at the bright side (lessons learned and all that) but I feel like I should have learned this one already. I am not a kid who has the time to repeat dumb mistakes. I just read about the latest batch of university grads whose personal lives are being easily "reviewed" in Myspace.com and Friendster after they've applied for jobs and internships... talk about bad decisions! With parents like mine one thing I grew up knowing was that knowledge is providence however it is gained. My mother would find my diary, read it and then tell all my friends' moms what we had been up to and encourage them to read their own daughters diary's. Then she would make up a less telling source for her information. She should have worked for the C.I.A. THEN they would ground me not for doing whatever I shoudn't have been doing but for lying about it. But, hey - that's another story.

Its tough keeping my sense of humor these days and embracing the irony of it all. I don't know how those cajuns do it.

June 2005

half empty or half full?

It is a beautiful weekend but I am not feeling all that well since there is a full moon and my gut is full of woe. It would be a good night to walk to catch a good film (are there any out now?) or have close friends over to drink wine and celebrate this unseasonal weather.

The cats and I have toured the house and there are half completed projects throughout. Am I A.D.D. or just an old fashioned procrastinaor or a domestic contractor waiting for my paycheck? Still, I would feel better and could move on to other things if the table top were empty. Our Florida room is half clean, powder room mural 1/3 painted, (our house was built in the 20's) garden 3/4 planted, kitchen 1/4 clean, website 1/2 updated, etc, etc, etc. These home projects don't even take into account the rental property that needs a lot of attention or the projects I have going on in my studio or my language studies. If I think about it all at once it keeps me up at night...which is why I am not the list maker I once was.

We'd like to see the new Al Gore documentary "An Inconvienient Truth". If we can get our bikes in working order (another project) maybe we'll go. Mr. DD and I are not car people. We watch the gas prices rise, know they'll go higher and we don't even use a lot of petro compared to the average American. I don't know how they pay for it. We are so eccentric compared to most people we know and still, we've had to cut down on "premium" consumables as much as possible. Mr. DD drinks PBR now instead of the local micro brew. I don't buy organic vegetables as often as I need to and we aren't buying anything from the nursuries this year. All of our garden bulbs, etc are transplants from friend's gardens.

As soon as we can we hope to buy a "fart car." Its a new automobile which runs off compressed air! Of course American automobile makers will likely fight the import of these innovative new machines which require NO OIL plus they are CHEAP!

Housing Crisis

Its after 3am. I was sleeping soundly when some loud mouthed, drunken a.h. came barreling down our street yelling out his car window. Our windows are open since it has been such a lovely mild month with a few exceptions.

I am a light sleeper. Problem is I can't go back to snoozeland since my mind is still churning. I am unsure as to what to do with the home I bought before I became Ms. DD.

We lived there for a number of years and put it up for rent after we moved to our current home. Its a special 2 BR house in a quiet neighborhood that has been in the process of s l o w gentrification over the past 25 years. Its a 1910 sweetheart that hasn't been updated in all the ways that count... kitchen, bathroom and central ac. It is on a huge double lot that takes an amazing amount of time and attention to keep it from looking like a jungle. There is bamboo, an herb garden, rose bushes, an amazing crepe myrtle tree. The soil up on that hill is amazing. ANYTHING grows. I was spoiled as a gardener .

My problem is that a)I cannot afford to work in this house as a studio so I need to rent it.
b) I've never had great tenants so its take a beating every time someone moves in and then moves out... Not like PACIFIC HEIGHTS but bad enough.
c) It is probably the sweetest, most sucessfully integrated neighnorhod in the city. Its not perfect but its good. My friend Don described it as a "grandma house in a garden" and I think that's pretty accurate. Its reminiscent of the days when land was something you lived with and worked and most people had more land to take care of than money in their pocket. That certainly describes us now. Its located a corner lot but it very private because of all the trees.

I have been speaking with a rental management co. that tends to property in that part of town. He looked at the house and told me he didn't want to manange it because it would take too much time to rent it. "It will take a special person to rent that house." He's right. "special people" aren't always good stewards of the land. Some are, some aren't. He suggested that I build a prefab home on the extra land and sell it and use the money to fix up the house I own.
Yuck. Its probably the most sensible idea but the whole idea s t i n k s to me.

So -
I am putting money into an empty house. I'll rent it eventually. There are things I would have to do anyway to sell the place. It's just not something I want to be thinking about right now. I want to be making art and studying French and working on my own home which needs a lot of work. 53 windows that all need painted. My husband and I own two and a half fixer uppers and
neither of us are really handy. Its that old southern thing about land... never sell it. Its all ya got. If I sell the place then the money will just go toward paying taxes and who knows what else. If I could sell it for enough to move to Paris with my husband I would. Unlikely. If it were located in another part of town then perhaps that could have happened but I didn't grow up here and didn't study here and didn't even work here. I married here and am now figuring out why. The marriage is good... but this is not Paris. I know, I know... it could be worse.

Still, I try to sleep and I worry. Time for an Ambien! Any suggestions or comments regarding finding good tenants or managing real estate or the current state of the marketplace or economy would be appreciated. Many thanks.

Timeline

Ok, I've been home one month today. Depression is setting in. Help!! I've tried playing Oprah and counting my blessings and the tried and true slogan we've used the past few years "Well, it could have been worse..." (oh, we've used that one a LOT....) but nothing seems to be keeping it at bay. Of course its complicated. Its not just me. Its my life. Our life. Yeah, It could be worse.

When I am not part of this life, well things are different. I work late and get up early and I am abstinant with no expectation of physical love... sort of an art nun. No, its not a balanced life but at least I am productive and have something to show for my time other than a messy house and garden that looks more and more like the wild kingdom. (without the exotic animals... although I've been putting our cat on a leash outside and she seems to like it.) I walk everywhere, cook a lot, read more and am more focused. There is no television. There isn't a lot of media. No one expects me to show up so I have the freedom to either show up or not.
I think part of the reason I love being away is that I can escape everyone's expectations but my own, which are more than enough.

I wish I had been able to go to Korea last week with a group of fellow artists I am exhibiting with. The timing wasn't right. So, here I am. It is a holiday weekend. We have some plans, nothing terribly exciting. Our tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. I keep trying to get Mr. DD to commit to a plan or tell me his preferences. At one point, a year or two ago I hoped we would be able to spend out tenth in Scotland. I would love to revisit the island where we were married...

Last summer I thought it would be fun to have a Far, Far Away Party (like in Shrek 2) since I assumed correctly we probably wouldn't make it out of town. At this point, I doubt we'll even sure we'll be off work. Its going to be that kind of summer - one where we have to make up for time spent elsewhere doing other things. Sigh. I know, it could be worse.

We'll get through it but I really want to figure out a way where the life we live HERE can be as good as the life I live elsewhere. Is is possible? I don't know.