volume one hundred and seventy-five
but why that, though?
šWritten from Naarm (otherwise known as Melbourne) while my distracted brain had every tab open in my head after not having used my laptop in a week.
I have been housesitting full-time for over a year now. I have been welcomed into many homes. Some big, some not-so-big. With that comes the realisation that Little Loz might of dreamed of a mansion but Bigger Loz says no thanks. Some feel more homely than others, with character and life and comfort. Some feel like they havenāt been altered from the brochure they were picked from.
Each one has a lot of the same things. Some have fancy things I get to use for a limited time (I have been converted and devices that will play me music just by my asking, or tell me the weather tomorrow are great). Others seem to be missing items I would deem almost essential (No kettle? Where am I?). When a home appears to have no coasters, I do question everything. Sure, they might be hiding somewhere I havenāt looked on account of not being someone who likes to snoop in other peopleās things. But coasters arenāt really the kind of item you put away. They feel more like an ongoing service. Look, if the tables are glass and I just need to wipe them clean, then I accept that this is your home and I will do it your way. But when you have a timber dining table worth more than anything I have ever owned, and a coffee table to match and not a coaster or placemat in sight, you better believe I am using tea towels and paper towels in their place.
I will not break my 5-star review record for rings left on your antiques.
The one thing I try and ask every homeowner before they leave is where they keep the umbrella. This is the one household item that no one can seem to agree on. Where is yours? At the front door? Sure! But inside or outside? In the garage? In a coat closet? In the boot of your car that I do not have keys for? Under the kitchen sink for some reason? In your bedroom seems like a wise idea? Oh, you left it open to dry out three weeks ago and now a spider has made it their home and itās in the middle of the backyard? Hey, whatever your choice is, just let me know so I don't get caught out walking your dog, okay? An umbrella isnāt really something I want to sacrifice any of my precious 23kg of suitcase space for. Plus, everyone has one. I just have to take the guessing out of it and remember to ask where it is.
No matter what, I am grateful and excited about getting to know another new place, getting on new comedy stages or revisiting missed ones, familiarising myself with a new neighbourhood and best of all, making a new best friend out of their pet. It is always a mystery how my new furry friend will react to my morning yoga. Will it be laying off to the side in a sun patch, completely unbothered? Will it be doing downward facing dog alongside me? Or will it think this is playtime and jump all over me, chewing my tied up hair and testing my balance while making me laugh?
What really amazes me though, is the kinds of things a lot of homes seem to consider necessary, but in my opinion are just the product of mass consumer culture. I love the idea of art on the walls to make you feel good, or candles that make the space smell like yours when you come home, or even too many throw cushions if it makes you happy. Every home is each personās own and what they choose to decorate it or fill it with to enjoy it, is of course, up to them. I must admit I am usually quite inspired by a few things in every new place, wondering what I might pull for my future home of my own should I ever choose to create it.
But can I please take a moment to ask about signs for your dishwasher and ask why? You know the kind that tells you whether the contents are dirty or clean? Most people seem to have them. They come in magnet form. Maybe they are reversible. Maybe they have different signs you can flip or clip on to alternate. Maybe it is two different items altogether so that you have to remove one, to put on the other and then where does that other one go in the meantime? Probably wherever youāre hiding the coasters.
If you live with other people who are too lazy to open the door of the dishwasher to find out at a quick glance or whiff, whether they are safe to put more dishes in or not, you might want to consider living with different people. Especially if they see either option and donāt opt to empty it by putting things away or turning it on to wash what is inside. If you live alone, I donāt know what to say or if there is anything we can do.
Lovely reader, head into the comments and tell me where you keep your umbrella.
something i struggled with this week:
ā¤ļøāš©¹ Actively putting a gap between where I am and my old self. Actively repairing the gaps I made when I was running from myself, so as a result ran from others.
a blessing from this week:
š My hands are decorated with rings and bracelets and tattoos and kisses from the sun and half moons on my nails and I am saying goodbye to spending money on manicures and pedicures.
a goal for the coming week:
šļøJust like you were, I want to make sure I keep being in it for the right reasons.
pics or it didnāt happen:
I love you and I appreciate you reading my letters because I really enjoy writing them to you.
"No tea kettle, where am I?" -- love this and yes! "Coasters feel like an ongoing service" - perfectly stated. My umbrella collection (multiple sizes for light rain, down pour, freezing rain and sun coverage) is inside and at the front door in a beautiful green vase neighbors were giving away.
I donāt have coastersā¦ and I feel terrible now. But Iām committed to make some as a new auto drying clay project.
My umbrella is at my door, it was never a question.
Great volume xx