Mature Living: Housing for older singles
One of my goals over the past 5 years was to create a home for older or mature single adults... those over 48 years old. Since I have had the place to do this, given after my father's death, and the fact that I was living in, and had been rehabbing his home for well over 10 years, I've finally, this year, 2015, been able to realize that idea, dream, and desire.
The attending goal, but very important goal, was to create a home for older mature single adults within a budget: To create a home for myself and a few others that was within some modest income purview. I have finally done that.
I've created a home for 4 older/mature adults where the rent for my individual tenants is less than 1/2 of their incomes, where I've provided furniture, sheets, towels.... and a decent home.
I've worked incredibly hard to get to this. And I've deeply enjoyed the process, since I can't think of anything better than what I still call "living design".... where one designs based on living.
To hone one's mind toward making the best use of things thrown off, things left behind, things donated, things offered at reasonable prices, or things one barters for.... at a good price, or to learn how to reuse, recycle...
In a world so bent on having things new, shiny, and from the next up and coming designer, I'm all about using what is old, used, the like. I'm a dump picker.
I don't say that without thinking about all the adults and kids out there actually living in dumps, actually scrambling over true "dump heaps" to make a living.
And I don't say that without realizing that all those new young designers and business people are busting their butts to make something new that works for their world to hand.
I am living in a semi-affluent society (certainly not Denmark or Sweden, or even Canada), where the brighter half live--with affordable and state sanctioned health care. Where those who are smarter don't hear the word "socialism" and freeze up and think their world is going to be taken over by tzars or Stalin, most of whom don't even know what the word tzar means, nor who Stalin was.
I'm not living within the horrible mental confines of old Catholicism, where your teeth would rot, but you'd still be paying a tithe to some old bastard giving you the hail marys, while the old bastard would dine well and have a well-enough heated space. Thank God.
More later....
The attending goal, but very important goal, was to create a home for older mature single adults within a budget: To create a home for myself and a few others that was within some modest income purview. I have finally done that.
I've created a home for 4 older/mature adults where the rent for my individual tenants is less than 1/2 of their incomes, where I've provided furniture, sheets, towels.... and a decent home.
I've worked incredibly hard to get to this. And I've deeply enjoyed the process, since I can't think of anything better than what I still call "living design".... where one designs based on living.
To hone one's mind toward making the best use of things thrown off, things left behind, things donated, things offered at reasonable prices, or things one barters for.... at a good price, or to learn how to reuse, recycle...
In a world so bent on having things new, shiny, and from the next up and coming designer, I'm all about using what is old, used, the like. I'm a dump picker.
I don't say that without thinking about all the adults and kids out there actually living in dumps, actually scrambling over true "dump heaps" to make a living.
And I don't say that without realizing that all those new young designers and business people are busting their butts to make something new that works for their world to hand.
I am living in a semi-affluent society (certainly not Denmark or Sweden, or even Canada), where the brighter half live--with affordable and state sanctioned health care. Where those who are smarter don't hear the word "socialism" and freeze up and think their world is going to be taken over by tzars or Stalin, most of whom don't even know what the word tzar means, nor who Stalin was.
I'm not living within the horrible mental confines of old Catholicism, where your teeth would rot, but you'd still be paying a tithe to some old bastard giving you the hail marys, while the old bastard would dine well and have a well-enough heated space. Thank God.
More later....
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