I emailed a friend that I now lived in an alley behind the Casa Orinda restaurant. He asked if I had become a rat.
A ridiculous suggestion, how could a rat afford an internet connection, or an iPad?
There is a bohemian quality of how we are living. It’s a furnished apartment, weathered leather chairs, 1930s style dresser and end table, terribly scarred refrigerator that actually works. Best of all, a bathroom that is so small that, if you stand in the right spot, you can touch everything in there without moving.
I had never experienced resting my forehead on the cool, ceramic sink, while attending to my morning toils. Ahem!
Lastly, the alley is a narrow one way lane, with 50% pedestrians going in either direction. Some alone, some in noisy clusters, activating the bright security light posted above the rear kitchen door.
Briefly the individuals are bathed in a 300 watt glare, then it shuts off 5 seconds later while they are still moving. Oddly enough, the light continues to turn on throughout the night when no one is in the alley. For a time I thought it was a part of someone’s String Theory, when I looked down on it from my shuttered second story window, the light immediately came on, perhaps because I was looking at it.
Then I considered that the 93 year old restaurant had stories of being haunted… perhaps some spirits taking a stroll. A better tale in the making.
The biggest change for us is the idea of living out of two suitcases, no real possessions, just some floss and toothbrushes. A little cheese from the Frankenstein refrigerator, a microwave hot cup of cold brew coffee seems like the perfect breakfast.
How long can this last? Perhaps until the house is sold. Maybe even longer.
A Work Progressing 
Alley Living
I emailed a friend that I now lived in an alley behind the Casa Orinda restaurant. He asked if I had become a rat.
A ridiculous suggestion, how could a rat afford an internet connection, or an iPad?
There is a bohemian quality of how we are living. It’s a furnished apartment, weathered leather chairs, 1930s style dresser and end table, terribly scarred refrigerator that actually works. Best of all, a bathroom that is so small that, if you stand in the right spot, you can touch everything in there without moving.
I had never experienced resting my forehead on the cool, ceramic sink, while attending to my morning toils. Ahem!
Lastly, the alley is a narrow one way lane, with 50% pedestrians going in either direction. Some alone, some in noisy clusters, activating the bright security light posted above the rear kitchen door.
Briefly the individuals are bathed in a 300 watt glare, then it shuts off 5 seconds later while they are still moving. Oddly enough, the light continues to turn on throughout the night when no one is in the alley. For a time I thought it was a part of someone’s String Theory, when I looked down on it from my shuttered second story window, the light immediately came on, perhaps because I was looking at it.
Then I considered that the 93 year old restaurant had stories of being haunted… perhaps some spirits taking a stroll. A better tale in the making.
The biggest change for us is the idea of living out of two suitcases, no real possessions, just some floss and toothbrushes. A little cheese from the Frankenstein refrigerator, a microwave hot cup of cold brew coffee seems like the perfect breakfast.
How long can this last? Perhaps until the house is sold. Maybe even longer.
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