Tuesday, May 29, 2007

decision smackdown

For all the talk of traveling places, there's no doubt that one of my favorite places to be is at home. I love the quiet and the peace and the peace and quiet. And I like having my stuff around, my books and pens and coffee cups and sneakers.

But when do you decide to move?

Sure, there's the job change and the landlord kicked you out scenarios. But when those aren't considerations, when?

If it were up to me, I'd probably still be living here on Rowland Road. This is our teeny tiny first apartment together, the one where I moved with ALL MY STUFF (aka: two boxes of books, a futon and a carton of clothes) into Pat's monastic space, only later to be scolded for dropping cookie crumbs on the floor.

Luckily, it worked out. But that was a long time ago. I'll not say how long for fear of appearing like an 80-year-old lady -- which I do all to often, anyway.

Now, we're living on Potato Knob, about two miles or so from this apartment and we love it here. We built it, molding it, smoothing out the creases. But we feel like it's time for a change. And since we can't move out of the area or about another year, we're thinking of high-tailing it to the city and plopping down into one of the houses Pat's just about to finish.

We can't decide. No, I can't decide. And like any good list maker, I've made a list, a pros and cons smackdown for the title of Home.

The pros (or Reasons to Get the Hell off this Mountain): walking places vs. having to drive EVERYWHERE; some semblance of a yard vs. mountain-side cliffs; a garden! with tomatoes! vs. good luck raising anything but earthworms; neighbors that come close to our age vs. all neighbors old enough to be our parents (nice when you need parental-ish assistance, but not so nice when you don't get their jokes about Benny Goodman); and Pat's personal favorite -- delivery! vs. driving to find quick meals (see above).

The cons (or What the Hell Are You Thinking?): moving all our crap vs. lazy days sitting on my ass reading a book; lots of light and windows vs. some OK light and OK windows; space to spread out vs. a slight downsizing (which is OK, really, because I just need the aforementioned books and pens and coffee cups and sneakers); the mountain view vs. the view of the neighbors' houses and streetlights and such; Pat's studio space here vs. no shop space there; Swannanoa vs. West Asheville.

OK. I had to stop with the list. Enough already. You get the picture. And so do I, but it still doesn't help. Any suggestions?

1 comment:

Frances said...

one thing i love about getting older is knowing myself better. one thing i know about myself is that i hate making decisions. the thing is what i really believe is that no decision is the wrong decision. not that "everything happens for a reason" but more like i don't ever wanna have regrets. longing is fine, and remembering, and missing things is natural, but regret brings you down. i guess what i mean to say is that whatever decision you make i believe is the right decision. i can hear folks saying but what if you do something bad or hurt someone, how can that be the right decision but that's not the point, the point is what you do afterwards that makes the difference. i don't know if i'm making any sense. what i mean to say is that if you move, that'll be a good decision. if you stay, that'll be a good decision. now, i need to remember my own advice tomorrow. yes indeed, ma'am. hey. lil ole rowland road. lil ole tater knob. lil ole west asheville house. see what i mean, friendly?