Tag: she shed

I’m shopping for a she-shed

Within minutes of Googling, I had received a call, text, voice mail, and email from Victor at Tuff Shed. I think he is excited. It’s rubbing off on me.  

Maybe a little more ideal than an outhouse.

It can be hard

Seventeen months of Covid have amplified the challenges of and revealed cracks in multi-family/multi-generational living. Although we get along well, all of us adults are longing for our own spaces. I long for an office free of distractions. And a kitchen under my management.

An informal survey of fellow writers revealed that men are not distracted by other people in the room, the washing machine chiming, or children needing transportation. Women are. Even if the needs aren’t real.

I touched upon this subject in a previous post. Right now, for instance, alone in my room, my ear is alert for Mike to request help with a project. Although I know he won’t. He respects my writing time.

Facing the abyss of insanity . . .

. . . Mike and I began the search for a condo, a run-away-from-home retreat where I could do my thing and we could entertain friends. When not using it, we would rent it out. Following several considerations, we decided we wanted to be within easy driving distance of our closest friends.

I called my realtor Lou, and we looked. We saw a lot of work. We also saw lots of $$$$.

And so we are building a she-shed.

We should have done this years ago. The ordinances and permits overwhelmed us when we considered the ideal structure. Now we will go with less than ideal but comfortable. House Lessons by Erica Bauermeister inspired me. Deep Work by Cal Newport affirmed that I am not crazy.

Within minutes of Googling, I had received a call, text, voice mail, and email from Victor at Tuff Shed. I think he is excited. It’s rubbing off on me.  

The Guest House

Read the book for the fascinating details. After outlining the source of systemic loneliness, Wilson asserts we need to be alone and connect with nature..

My view of the pines.

My she-shed

The studio apartment is designed simply with muted whites and browns. I enter the guest house on my nephew’s property and experience immediate relief.

“Why are you here?” asks my four-year-old great-niece who is looking forward to her vacation in Hawaii.

“To write the great American novel,” I reply, because I don’t know how to explain to her that I need space.

Why do I need space?

 I don’t know. But I love the guest house which my nephew and niece open to me when they leave town.

The childhood noise that permeated our house when we first moved in together is subdued now. The boys remain out of sight most often.

Only one is surly at dinner. And not every dinner.

COVID eliminated our exuberant social gatherings.

Coincidentally, I rediscovered the book by Sarah Wilson which speaks to loneliness. I am not unique. Wilson presents the disturbing numbers showing that the world is suffering from loneliness.

. . .loneliness didn’t exist as a word or concept in our culture until the 19th century. It is not a coincidence . . .

This One Wild and Precious Life: The Path Back to Connection in a Fractured World by Sarah Wilson,
quoting historian Fay Bound Alberti
A Biography of Loneliness

No spoiler here.

Read the book for the fascinating details. After outlining the source of systemic loneliness, Wilson asserts we need to be alone and connect with nature.

I write this from a deck among the pines near Flagstaff, AZ. It is partly cloudy in Illinois terms, cloudy in Arizona. There are great patches of blue allowing the sunlight through. Rain is expected, a great relief to this drought-stricken area.

And I do not feel lonely.

If not a she-shed . . .?

It might be best to remain renters as needed. It is nice to pack up, go home, and let someone else clean up and tend to repairs. 

Where is that?

Gee, it is hot!

The temperature reached summer highs early this year, imprisoning us indoors. Night-time temperatures hover around 90, transforming the pool into an oversized bathtub which brings little relief.

Moving into this house with its over-sized lot, we relieved the workload and divest of our other properties. We sold off two pieces in the pines of Munds Park, although it would be nice to have one of those right now to escape the furnace of the Valley of the Sun.

We also own half of ED’s property and half of Mike’s father’s house. We can’t seem to get down to one plot.

Sharing a house is not easy.

A week of various trials in house sharing prompted me to consider investing in a condo to use as a getaway. The she-shed isn’t going to happen because of the need for cooling, heating, electricity, and zoning laws. My nephew and niece’s guesthouse isn’t always available.

In the summer I want to go north out of the heat. In the winter, I prefer to stay in the desert. No place is ideal.

Do I really want more responsibility?

I hesitate. Do we really want more property? We would ease the expense by renting it out when not in use. But there is still the maintenance and administration.

I had my trusty realtor Lou check on properties for me. I see places that need upgrading and furnishing. My heart is not in it.

It might be best to remain renters as needed. It is nice to pack up, go home, and let someone else clean up and tend to repairs.