Instead of going to church in the rain we have set up a wild Real Estate group roast this morning. Lochlan said it was too cold and damp for me to be outside today. He gestured at the window while he peeled my orange for breakfast. Don't worry, I had a rosemary rocksalt bagel too. I also had a Long Island Iced Tea at about nine last night, which meant a solid, mildly-drunken sleep. Amazingly I did not have to get up in the night to pee, which is somewhat unbelievable seeing as how if I even look at a glass of water after seven or so I am toast or maybe I was just tired but this was much needed, and much appreciated.
I feel like I'm ten again, and he is cutting fruit for me with a knife because he doesn't believe I am old enough to safely use tools. In this case these oranges are hard to peel and I can't really do it with one hand. PJ offered and was dismissed, later to be apologized to and he told Lochlan that to make it up to him, Lochlan could peel his (PJ's) orange too.
Oh, I'll peel your orange, alright, Padraig.
Promises, Handsome.
And I giggle in spite of myself.
Right now we are pontificating on people's inability to construct a floor plan that flows, their strange need to put entire laundry rooms inside bathrooms, why they all use the ugliest brightest highlighter colours they can find for feature walls, and the odd practice of spreading lawn furniture and planters out, away from the house in haphazard arrangements that make zero sense. My favourite ones are full of kitschy coastal decor, as if the person who bought it (because I tag waterfrontage and hardly look at anything else) was new to the sea and wanted to make sure we knew it, they always tag it 'The Beach House'. You can all but guarantee a compass rug, shells scattered on the tables and some crossed oars going up the stairs in these places. It's beautiful and funny to me.
Mysterious dents in fridge doors, whole missing doors and cheap furnishings or finishings are huge turnoffs. Hey, I have baskets in my house from Dollarama too, the secret is to make sure everything you buy is white because then it blows out in photographs and looks expensive. A primary-blue plastic basket is not going to have the same effect. Also for gods sake don't you dare show me a bathroom with no mirrors, or one huge mirror on a stand right beside the bathtub. Glass near the tub is one thing I can't do. No all-bright yellow interiors or I run screaming. Don't show me a house full of Walmart furniture that has a separate four-car garage on the property and many questionable things in the basement (some sort of kitchen) and freshly dug 'gardens' way out in the back twenty. Uh-huh.
Drugs, Dalton leans over my chair to look. That's where the bodies are buried.
Oh, oops, you're right, I say, and we move on. I won't link that one.
One delightful house up the highway toward Northwest cove had the most delightful rugs and art (INCLUDED) and you could tell they knew what would work for the space and I'm still considering just picking that house up for later. For the years when no one needs me anymore, when the kids are too busy and I am lonely and the only thing that ever fixes the hurt is the proper ocean that I belong to and not this dark imposter. I hate to even think of those days and so for some reason I feel as if I am prepared if I keep an eye on houses and places and plans.
But it's tiring because I hate your paint colours and I hate those little hexagon standalone showers that everyone renovates into place (including the house linked above), an afterthought when they started with the best of intentions and I don't want to see your woodstove in a questionable fire-scary location in your house. And I want to know who died there and if they haunt it and how many steps there are to the sea and if your shingles come off every hurricane and which way you drive down the highway to shop. I want to know if the neighbours are decent people who could help you in an emergency or if you have a place to leave the boat in the water year round (because boats are such a hassle) and it needs to have as many bathrooms as bedrooms, multiple easy places to park and a driveway that isn't frightening (like mine, drops straight down off the road, into the abyss) and if the house will be warm and full of light.
Not asking for much.
At all.
Ha.