Wednesday, April 29, 2015

A room of one's own and five hundred a year

"I could live in a tent down at Cosy Corner."
By the sea, near the island, watch seabirds plumbline from sky to bait flushed up by bonito. Day by day. Write stories.
"I could live in a cave."
Stroking stone every night. The fireplace smoke swirling around and darkening the granite.

I could live anywhere. But I have the Bobcat. The dog. Oh, and my child standing on the verge and looking toward his life as an adult across the road, ready to step out in a break between traffic.

So maybe I can't feral out down at Cosy Corner just yet. The thing is, I've been so comfortable and happy where I have been living and now it's on the market and the positive offers are flooding in and I have to find somewhere else to live. To live. When I don't actually have a wage to speak of. Or a partner swinging in their public service safety net. I've written two books here. My family are here. I grew up here. I was philosophical about all this, until the real estate agent banged in the 'for sale' sign with a ringing of her gimpy hammer on star pickets the other day.

10 comments:

  1. Five hundred a year?

    In my experience, going full feral is most appealing when romanticised from the comfort of civilisation, and in practice gets quite tiresome after a fairly short amount of time. Each to their own though, of course. It is gonna be difficult writting in a cave though, isn't it? Unless you've got a generator, or solar-cell, or magic crystals to power your laptop.

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    1. But I have all of those things Alex!
      Nah, my whimsy is regularly punked by practicalities dammit.
      500 a year was probably plenty in Virginia Woolf's day.

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  2. Oh poo. Hate that, BUT it might just be an opportunity for something new and fresh and wonderful. Sometimes we can't see it at the time.

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    1. True Melba. Already new things are beckoning. And I have a date now, which helps.

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  3. I assume this is your Mum's place that's up for sale? I lost my fisrt 'family' home when I was 9 to move in with my Grandparents. When I was 19, they said they were moving to Melbourne and I should find somewhere else to live. I think you've had a good run.......

    Here's an idea. Live on a boat.

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    1. Yes, it's another nice idea. I probably should just get a job.

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  4. I have a spare room in a (too large for just me) house in Seattle.....

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  5. When Virginia wrote that in 1929 500 pounds would've been similar to about $60k (or close to the median income) here today so she wasn't going to be starving in a garret or nothing!

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    1. I think Virginia was in quite a good financial position anyway.
      I've just read 'The Hours' by Michael Cunningham, and it reminded me of her quote.
      Could do without the rocks in the pocket though.

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