once upon a time…

Lake Angelus, Michigan is one of the most beautiful places in the world. It certainly was to me. I used to answer the phone, “paradise, may I help you?” I had 700 glorious square feet and a porch to end all porches.

People came to that porch from far and wide. It was a rare night that some surprise visitor didn’t show up, usually several. You couldn’t blame them, it was on the breezy side of the lake.. a little storybook house down a stone path and a series of steps. and I always had a lot of wine. and beer. and scotch. and fruit and cheese and bread. and maybe my autoimmune disease makes more sense now. At least I had fun. So much fun there.

Lake Angelus is on my mind because I’m ready to move again, and I have no idea where, but I am trying to spend time basking in my favorite places I’ve lived and what has made them great. I’ve lived in some great places.

Bloomfield Court in Birmingham was an absolutely cherishable time, too, for so many different reasons. The lovely and powerful Gaile Stallsmith moved in one day. I was on the phone with Reggie and said, “a beer commercial just pulled up” as Gaile in her Mazda convertable, followed by a Uhaul truck and about 10 ponytailed men in various luxury sportscars pulled down the narrow street. Near the end of my time there I made a great friend in the building across the street (I hadn’t even known there were other rentals on the street) and we had so much fun with the neighbors. I could walk to my job at The Community House. I listened to Under The Table And Dreaming on a constant loop, drinking wine i bought by the case with a revolving door of lovely young women that building seemed to attract, and my very quiet upstairs gentleman neighbor.

And while it wasn’t my best year, living in the carriage house on Division street in ann arbor was, architecturally speaking, divine. Sortof. It’s one of those things that if i could own that house now, with just a bit of work I could easily make it into my dream house. I seem to love brick and windows.

That’s what the monastery holds for me. Standing in the brick library with the windows and fireplace, or the main hall. these rooms impact me physically with active gladness. My current house doesn’t do that. It has some lovely aspects, but we’re ready to feel more markers of “home” in our next location.

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