Wow. This is the view from the apartment I moved into two months ago. This is also what I call “the cathedral” because it’s where I sit on my deck and let awe overtake me for the beauty of our planet and that I get to be right here at this place at this particular time. It’s the closest I come to worship and is usually accompanied by a prayer of thanks.
I did not want to move. I’d finally gotten into a house for the first time since leaving Georgia and she was a beauty. To me. But while she was almost perfect aesthetically, functionally she wasn’t quite so lovely. From leaking pipes to crumbled chimneys, it seemed one thing after another went wrong. The landlords lived out of state and were less than enthusiastic about helping out with anything. When it looked like they would not get the furnace repaired before winter I knew it was time to go. I love winter in Montana, but not without heat! So I reluctantly began to look for another place.
Ironically, I’ve ended up back in the same apartment buildings where I lived when I first moved here. But I’m a little higher up and a little farther west and I’m pretty sure I’ve got one of the best apartment views in town. Still, I wasn’t thrilled about moving.
We were just starting to get comfortable and Kisster got sick and died and then I had to get used to the place without her. And I think I finally am. Getting used to it that is. The advantages are many: no yard work, no unannounced visits from landlords, no moldy basement or leaky pipes. I have a dishwasher and a garbage disposal! I’ve run the dishwasher once – just doesn’t make sense for one person. But it’s still an apartment and I really liked living in a house.
But what I realize is that home is where I am. Home is what I make it. I don’t know if it’s some mid-life thing, but I’ve gotten exponentially more domestic over the past few years. Who knew nesting was a side-effect of menopause? I like to smell good things on the stove and I like to feed other people. I think it’s one of the most giving things to do. It’s spiritual. I literally feel like I’m embodying the goddess when I’m just doing things around the house and I often think there’s no more sacred thing to do. I can’t really explain it, but it seems, well, important enough. I’m adopting another kitten. This one is almost totally blind, but she’s beautiful (beautiful and non-functional, seems to be a theme, huh?) and I’m going to give her a good home with lots of love and food.
But this moving crap? It’s for the birds.
The Church of the Big Sky Jesus with Bear Signs Following 
That is just beautiful! I am going to be moving within the next few months, too, and I’m really looking forward to creating a new nest. Maybe it is about age. The desire is strong to build a beautiful sanctuary.
That scenery is gorgeous!
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I too think it is beautiful, Angela! And best of all, NO MAINTENANCE HEADACHES, unlike a house. Lots of time to do things other than household chores, like feeding people and playing with your new kitty. I am very sorry for the death of your Kisster, and glad that you will not be alone for long. Blessings and love, O
Them’s some birds! Oh!
I wish you the best in your new place. I won’t add to your angst by expressing my feelings about living cheek by jowl with neighbors. You live cheek by jowl with EAGLES!
I forgot to say that I am taking in what you say about household doings are spiritual, sacred, holy. That’s a wonderful way to see it.
Beautifully written, Angela. and I also think that for me that cooking and making beautiful surroundings for myself is part of growing up and learning to appreciate and truly love my body and myself. It’s amazing to me, when I treat myself with the love I do others. And spiritual, as you say? I hope to tell!
It suddenly occurred to me: I haven’t even seen the place yet. That.is.incredible.
soon, okay?
love c
Thanks everyone and yes, Claudia, soon!
Wow…I’m with you, Angela, in that apartment living has always felt to me as if I did not have the spiritual space to fill which a house, regardless of how small, seems to allow.
That, and the tromping elephants I can hear in the unit above at inconvenient times.
I love your attitude: fill the place with you, worship at the altar of the view from the balcony, and be in sanctuary.
The last time I was in an apartment was when my now-wife moved to Denver almost ten years ago. We made it into a special place for us, and when we had four daughters doing a sleepover, it was crazy and wonderful, both.
We have been in our house more than eight years now, and there are times, quite honestly, when we wonder if we left some of our magic behind in the apartment. Thankfully, those moments are usually answered by the Universe with a new burst of closeness which we love to feel.
The sleepovers are long a thing of the past, but we still see the kids as often as you would expect when the eldest is out of college and the others are either in college or soon will be. But this is home for us. Not the last one, but the current one is where your heart must invest for however short it is home. We’ll figure out where our hearts best can sing together when we move again in a few years.
Angela,
What a beautiful view! Funny, I just posted today about my time in Oregon last year. I love that part of the country.
We just moved in to a house where the landlord lives in NY. Although we love the place, we’re also happy that Breen loves home projects because the landlord and the rental management don’t act very quickly.
Still, I believe that home is where your heart is. For now, ours is in our quirky little rental and one day, it will be in a home that we own. I’m thankful for all of it.