Wednesday, March 06, 2024

Life in the Senior Apartments

 It's actually not bad. The rent went up $35 a month after the first year, but that could have been a lot worse. It's still a pretty nice 2 bedroom apartment at a reasonable price.

The population is quite diverse. There are people who are sociable and people who aren't, and that's ok. Lots of dogs, most of them friendly. I've seen one other English Bulldog, whose name is Dudley. He's an elderly gentleman who approaches life with a "get off my lawn" attitude, but he's actually pretty nice. There's Gabriel, who is a large teenage German Shepherd with a booming bark and who regards Rocco as a bowling ball, There are innumerable Chihuahuas and Chihuahua mixes, all of whom seem to be 10 years older than dirt, much like their owners. I've met a Shih Tzu or two, a Boston Terrier, and one HellifIKnow (according to its owner).

There are a several people I chat with at the swimming pool, or just walking around, or at the Poopy Park. The Mail Room seems to be a good chat spot. There's one lady who comes over every once in a while, but I don't go visiting. My neighbour across the hall very nicely looks after my delivered packages, and I do the same for her.

So, after a year, I feel confident that I can live here.

The apartments are not really designed for seniors, with deep garden tubs that are not the easiest things to get in and out of. The bedrooms have carpet, but the bathrooms and living areas have that fake wood flooring that is easy to maintain. There's a kitchen island, which I didn't think I would like until I discovered that it is the perfect height for a cutting table. It's made of a sort of composite marble that absorbs heat well. I have to remember to set the tea pot on a cutting board, or it cools off quickly. The place is easy to keep clean, which is a huge plus! I have a washer and dryer, thanks to a friend, connected to the theater, who pays for the rental of the set. I do the costume laundry for the theatre school, so it all works out.

I realized early on that the lobby at the office was designed to appeal to the well-heeled offspring of said seniors who are shopping for a place for their parents who no longer want to deal with looking after a house and yard. It's all angles and a seating pit that even I have to make and effort to get up from. And (I'm told) I'm pretty spry.

I like the swimming pool, which has no deep end, but is just under 4 ft deep all over. It even has a chair that can be lowered into the water, if you can't make it down the steps by yourself. There's an exercise room, too, but that's not my jam. There are raised garden beds, and paved walk of about a quarter mile. There's a CVS pharmacy within walking distance, but that's the only shop. More are supposedly being built, but that hasn't happened yet. The CVS has a few groceries, so emergency milk and bread are available. I get my groceries delivered from H-E-B, which is the favourite supermarket of most Texans. "If they ain't got it at H-E-B, ya don't need it! They even have Marmite, though it's not on the list of things you can order on line.

All in all, it's a nice place to live. My apartment faces northwest, with a view of a parking lot, but the patio is well situated for plants, as are the living room windows. I've managed to train a couple of Pothos up the window wall with Command Hooks (tm), which are hooks that attach to the walls without damaging them. I have more on the patio, along with some spider plants and a few other odds and ends that seem quite happy there. One problem is that the patio floods whenever there's a heavy rain, as the flower bed right outside it overflows into it, and I can wind up with an inch or so of standing water. It doesn't last long though, and has not seeped into the apartment at all.

I hope the rent doesn't rise to the point I can't afford it. This year, the Cost of Living increase in my Social Security is enough to cover it. The apartment is nice, and new, and clean, with new appliances and no problems with any of them. I can supply as much character as I need...

Of course, I've had to learn to keep the door locked, as I looked up one morning and there was a rather confused man in my apartment. I guess he just came in the wrong door, thinking it was his. I yelled at him with my finger on the emergency call button on my phone until he left, muttering something about "Bitch..." I have a large, glittering artificial flower wreath on my front door (Addy picked it out), so he must have been really off his meds...

Anyway, when I have only myself to support, I can manage, as long as I can hold onto my job at Austin Educational Theatre and pick up a few costuming gigs and alterations here and there. As long as I can stay spry...

Let's hear it for SPRY! Dearly Beloved, I will be 75 in June!

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