Which, And Which?
by Rachel Creager Ireland
Since we closed the motel, we have this constant question: what are we going to do? Will we ever re-open? Will we sell? Are there other choices?
We probably can’t afford the place if it’s not producing income. Unless we could produce more some other way. Kevin has a 9-5, and I’m still massaging, but all I really want to do is write. I say that, but from day to day, my choices indicate that what I really want to do is be a mom, and a Girl Scout leader, and work on a farm (but only one day each week), and anyway, writing has yet to pay off financially.
The new age people tell us to visualize what we want in order to manifest it into our physical world. If we didn’t own a motel, would we buy a house? I like to look at houses. I read the auction notices posted around town, or look at the pictures in the window of the local real estate office. Would I like that house? What changes would I make? Would that one be big enough?
Usually not. We live in about 1700 square feet now, and it doesn’t have space for all the ideas I have about what I want to do. I want a study for writing and crafts, I want my elder daughter to have her own room, I want space for massage therapy, which I’d have to rent elsewhere if I didn’t have a room in my home.
If it’s more rooms I want, I have them right now. I have plenty, if I jump in and transform them to my purposes, like I did for this room for Kevin. I have all kinds of ideas for alternative uses of the space. The office could be a nice sitting room and library; two adjoining motel rooms might become one large, open room for yoga or Girl Scout meetings. But how would that impact the salability of the property?
The indecision is uncomfortable.
Yesterday I took a walk in Strong City. I saw a couple cozy gabled houses nestled in the shade of lots of trees. They looked cool and inviting, though perhaps not big enough. They probably have rooms with different shapes and sizes, laid out in ways no other house is laid out. The younger daughter wants to live in a house with stairs. But that shady yard couldn’t support a vegetable garden, and those cozy rooms probably lack natural light.
On the other side of the street were some houses I hadn’t noticed before, ranch style (yuck!) with wide open yards and an incredible view of the town, the Cottonwood valley, and fifty miles beyond. Wouldn’t it be grand to live right up under the sky, inspired by that expansive space that fully invites you to breathe?
Not for the first time, I find that knowing what I want may well be the better part of achieving it.
If you could live in any kind of house, what would it be like?