My New Place

About a year ago, I was sharing with a friend that I needed a major change in my life.  Soon after that, the place I had been renting for many years was put up for sale and sold to the first comers.  The major change in my life had been decided for me. 

I was allowed to live in the rental condo until the end of the lease, but as that date approached, I became frantic that I would not be able to find the right place.  I had wanted to move close to family, but my closest daughter was nearly seven hundred miles away, and it was impossible for me to look at places near her within my budget.  Locally, all my leads seemed to go nowhere.

One Sunday I was driving with two of my friends when we saw an open house sign near the historic Racquet Club area of Palm Springs.  We were in an upbeat mood after our breakfast together, so we followed the signs to the condo.  Upon entering, the smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming and I made a mental note that this was a big no-no.

The vaulted ceiling in the "great room" was impressive as was the modern high-end decor.  However, the colors were far from anything I would have chosen.  Walls were painted brown throughout.  Black and brown and gray furnishings were framed by 84" length vertical black blinds covering large windows on one side and another set covering the sliders to a patio. This room combined living and dining areas. An adjacent ten foot square kitchen displayed dark brown cabinets and modern appliances in black with a backsplash and walls painted brown and a black ceiling.  A nice size window above the sink let in morning sun with black blinds pulled to the side.  There was only one bedroom, but two full baths and a room adjacent to one of them that was considered a den, but easily could hold a twin bed and a couple of small chests of drawers. 

The large bedroom's oversized high-end furniture in white did not diminish the sombre heaviness of the black that spread itself in the wall-to-wall carpet and floor-to-ceiling blinds.   Black ceramic tile floors and a 60" long vanity with a black granite top and sink accented the bathroom, with impressive mirror and lighting features.  The same black carpeted the den and covered the floor of the laundry/utility room that housed dual AC furnace units and a stackable washer and dryer unit as well as a gas water heater.

I'm going to skip the FHA financing and all the trouble of  loan company and escrow tribulation, but in short time, I actually bought this most unlikely place.  I could not sleep for weeks before I moved or after I moved.  I stayed awake every night thinking about the many facets of this condo I would change if I could.

Three months later, my main focus and torment remains getting rid of the cigarette smell.  What I have completed are expensive ozone treatments, dual AC duct cleaning, tile floor cleaning and resealing in great room, and bedroom walls and ceilings washed down and primed and painted twice, new carpeting installed in bedroom and den.  Yet the cigarette smell persists.  Other spaces also need to be painted, I realize, but I have run out of money.  When cooler weather comes in October, I can leave the sliders and windows open and air out the house completely.

The color of mud has disappeared from the walls of the great room and the bedroom.  Lightening up the walls to a light green in the great room and a creamy ivory in the bedroom made a huge difference in my appreciation of this new home.  My cottage style furniture also gives the place a light and airy feel.  The piano seems to sound better in the great room, and I'm playing and enjoying it more, too. 

My brother Brendon and my friend Ida in Ireland each sent me a gift of $100 in recent weeks as gifts for my new home.  I have decided that the slider doors in the great room will get a new window treatment, and that will be Ida's Window!  The other large vertical windows (also with black blinds) will be Brendon's Window. 

The time involved in this project concerns me.  I wanted this change in my life to simplify the time I have. 

Playing the piano really does help when I'm overwhelmed.  The other day I came across a worship song I had not heard in thirty years.  It was in a hymnal from the Presbyterian church, and I played it with tears rolling down my cheeks and singing, just barely, as I could manage.  

Sometimes alleluia,

Sometimes praise the Lord,

Sometimes softly singing,

Our hearts in one accord.

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