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Beyond Pandora

Beyond simple curiosity, this is Thinking Too Much. If you're interested in philosophy and/or wild theories, you've come to the right place.

Name:
Location: Australia

Paddling somewhere between a mad scientist and an organisational artist. Indecisive, inconsistent and often incoherent.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

My Place

It took us a while to find my new house originally, firstly because it was at the opposite end of the street to what I'd expected, secondly because the house numbers make sudden jumps for no apparent reason, and thirdly because the house itself is blocked from view by a wall of foliage.
The place is a long two-floored rectangle reaching away from the street. The dirt driveway runs along the side, leading to the 6/7-port open-air car-hold, of which one wall is artistic graffiti and the other end is old furniture and cardboard boxes. I tend not to venture too close for fear of spiders. :-0
On the opposite side of the house to the carport and between the house and the wall of foliage is the front yard, a smallish square of grass with the unlikely stump of a palm tree proclaiming itself slightly to the right of centre.
The yard leads into the lower floor of the house, currently reserved for the girls that may or may not ever choose to live here. There's a big kitchen/dining/living room area, and 4/5 bedrooms branching off the main hallway. Two of the rooms are joined by an arch, and another bedroom is just huge; it might originally have been a second bedroom/rumpus room.
At the back corner of the lower floor is the laundry for the house - it can be locked from the inside to stop boys from wandering in to the girls' quarters (unless the boys have a key. Or lockpicking skills. Or a screwdriver). The clothesline is up a step or two (supplied by cinderblocks) and beyond it is the cardboard-filled car bay.
Meanwhile, the top floor is accessible by a veranda (accessible by stairs at the carport end) that overlooks the driveway - and has a view west over the rooftops that makes me want to pull out my camera every sunset.
The veranda opens into the boys' kitchen/dining area, which is much cleaner now than when I arrived (there are fewer potato peels in the sink). The sink itself overlooks the front yard, which begs to be the site of a party every time I look at it. There's a dishwasher that is always full (usually because no-one wants to have to clear the dishes), a microwave that suffers from overuse compared to the oven, a combination fridge/freezer and a full-size freezer that comes with its own story...
The living room is on the other yard-side corner, is tiny and red and comes with a TV and air-conditioner (we drape sheets over the windows and doorway to stop the cold air escaping).
There's a bathroom and a seperate toilet next to the living room, and then comes the hallway, again with bedrooms branching out from it, except at the very end, where the hall deposits you in the second bathroom.

MY ROOM is the last one on the left. It measures a little short of 4 x 4.5 metres (when using my 30cm ruler) but includes a huge wardrobe, a huger desk (with really long drawers), and a king-single-sized bed (which means that I can finally stretch out and not have my feet sticking out over the edge!). Also a big blue rug, which is probably supposed to make up for not having the soft (and bright red) carpets that line most of the other rooms. There is a decent-sized window in the back wall (i.e., in the direction of the carport/clothesline) through which the sun arrives each morning to wake me up - definitely a good thing for uni days. The door can be locked from the inside (need a key to open from the hall) and, by the look of the screen in the window, it is possible to break in through the window if I lock myself out and have a tall enough ladder.
This is my space; this is my home.

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