Yes, this is Sunset Blvd, not Rivendell. There's something of a Hollywood feel to the buildings, somewhat run down but holding onto its shinier past. And there are little raised gardens of (now dead) vines. It needs a fountain in the courtyard.
The residents are what you'd expect living in one of those 1950s motel-ish apartment buildings. Odd ones, drunks, faded beauties, the failed, the utterly insane. From my desk I see the parade of harmless characters, and not-so harmless freaks doing disgusting acts.
As of today, it's been 2 weeks here. We are unpacking and sorting out every box and belonging. The million decisions get overwhelming- keep or toss, where will this live, etc. So much ephemera we accrue in life, and just how long do we keep these tangible memory cues? Is the Beefeater man rocking out still dear to me? Why do I have 8 half-boxes of holiday cards? Must I keep everything my mother ever crocheted for me? Oy.
The physical adjustment to the changes are the hardest part. Who knew that just changing chairs would cause so much pain and disruption? Having the roll-up shower is a blessing, and now that the bathroom is equipped life is easier than it was in The Shire. But tell that to my body, for which it seems every small change to the usual is a hairy deal. And just as finding spots for everything is a process, so is my body adapting to the new environment. Being in a wheelchair for most of the time now is a huge acclimation. All of a sudden I'm less than 4 feet tall, after a lifetime at nearly 6 feet. The rest of the world goes on as always, hanging calendars and clocks and putting things on top of cabinets way beyond my reach. I don't recall ever being this height. I was 5'6" in 6th grade!
Beest hasn't lost a minute in making this place hers. She escaped
yesterday, explored the hallways and both staircases before Gal Friday
caught her. Nothing puts her off her game.
All of the above has brought frustration and happiness. It's getting better. As the boxes disappear and their contents find new places, it begins feeling like home. No, it's not perfect. Nothing in real life is. We just make the best of it. But with a bit of imagination, some determination and no small dose of delusion, we're ready for our close up...
There Ya Gogh!
2 days ago