Today and yesterday I re-grouted the bathroom tile. My apartment is in an older building, and the tile is the original tile. Over the years it has fallen into disrepair, and I never really noticed until recently. I am lucky; I did well in the NYC real-estate wars, and was smart enough (for once, since I am a financial idiot usually) to buy this place ten years ago when prices were very low. I had inherited a small amount of money when my mother died, and also from my grandmother. Enough to buy this place, which I could never ever afford now. It is my home and I love it; it is the first place in NYC where I really feel at home, and this is why I have become such a homebody. I used to travel more, and I admire whirlingboy's intrepid adventures. But I love to stay put, and hang out with my old cats and with Mabel, and stroll around Brooklyn Heights, and play my piano, and paint. I will travel again; but I worry too much about leaving Tuna and Pomona alone now that they are each almost sixteen. This is the main room in the apartment, but I do a lot of work in the other room, which is also where I sleep.
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1 comment:
damn i wish that i could...
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