The Dreamwidth Journal of zdashamber

You know that feeling, when your hands are so cold that they can't tell what temperature the water you're running over them is, just that it's quite different, kind of peppery? I do. In other news, I'm back in California!

( Kvetching, Celcius vs Fahrenheit, mutations, bright side, Cyberpunk, plotting )

Why, you may ask, have I even ventured into the backyard? At all? At first, I suppose, I was driven by curiousity, a certain mercantile interest, and the need for a path to the shed to store stuff. I'd some months before made a deal with the landlords that I would manage the front yard in return for a small break in the rent: this freed me to plant tomatoes in the only sunny spot on the property without fear of them getting mowed. It also brought me back to my dear friend the Oakland Tool Lending Library, where I take out a weedwhacker every few weeks, and am constanly reminded of the plethora of fascinating tools I could be doing things with.
( Gardening, tools, and fragrant roses )

Best spam title for the past few months: "ductwork accelerometer." Thursday there was a note outside my door from Zoned Girl that the furnace had gone out, did I have time to look at it, or what was the landlord's phone number? Well, I'm pleased I'm #1 on the list of "people to poke broken things", but I was running late, and I really hoped she meant the hot water heater (again!), since I'm not so keen on clambering around under the house poking things. Left her the number and the location of the long-necked lighter in case of water heater, ran to work.

Friday, landlord came and fixed the furnace, which apparently had loose wires (under the wood and plaster house from 1905, oh what joys of insurance I need a fire extinguisher). Saturday it went out again (cold!). So I'm paging through my email on the web to nail all the spam before downloading and reading mail, and I see "ductwork accelerometer," and my first thought is, Dammit, not the ductwork accelerometer, too!

This house totally seems like the kind of place that would have a ductwork accelerometer.

Where've I been? In Colorado, at a family reunion that actually was quite a bit of fun. Even my second cousins are neat people.

But what about before that? Well, it hit me about 10 days ago when we mailed the landlady our 30 days notice: the 31st of July is the last day I get to have my stuff and self in this lovely room I presently take such pleasure in occupying. This means that said stuff needs to be sorted and packed, and said self needs to locate the next place that will be blessed with my presence.

I'd thought for a while of renting a room with motleypolitico, which would have been splendid. He and Mary are great. And his mulberry tree! Yet it would be an impossible commute to my present job. I was at the time thinking of just starting my own business, but after some thought I felt it would be good to start a business while I still had a day job, and I have not located a job down there.

( In which I lay out my financial situation )

But, the real point of this post was to talk about housing, namely my new place. Ever since I moved out of the dorms I've lived in cool places. I'm moving slowly forward in cool-cultural-architecture time: the first was a Grimm Brothers house, this current one is a Sherlock Holmes house, and the one I just settled on today is an Addams Family house.

( More about the Addams Family House )

( The search for apartments )