ownership

We’ve been in our house in Idaho for a couple of days now.

It has warmed up enough to be quite comfortable. That is good.

I sold the garden and shop acre to a neighbor who dismembered the bridge to keep traffic from cutting through. That meant for me to get a stick of firewood I had to drive 6 or 7 blocks to get to the back of our property.

Yesterday I did a reversible repair. When I leave I can quickly return it to a unusable state.

The house seems strangely large. It is seriously under furnished right now, which makes it seem larger. There is space, almost an excess it seems, and this is not a large house.

As I do every morning, I made a cup of tea. I use a small electric teakettle. But the milk I add to the tea comes out of a full sized refer. There is a range with a real oven.

Such luxury.

I have always been almost Native American in my belief on ownership. I am not sure I own much of anything. I sure don’t own Miriam for instance. This house has been mine for several decades, but it is time to move on.

Someone came into my unlocked shop the other day and stole a bag of tools. I am not too sure what was in the bag yet. And, only when I can’t find a tool will I realize what is gone.

If a tools is really needed, I’ll replace it. If it is not, I’ll live without it. Either way it is really OK.