To my gypsy Mom, this sounds like a little slice of heaven. Especially the "To be on your own" part. You see, Mom is dead-set on getting her own place. She’s known this all along and has been dropping hints like crazy… She may have actually said it straight out, but I have not been receptive. I mean, she just this minute GOT here, for goodness sake.
Every time she’s brought it up till now – during the three weeks I’ve actually lived with her – I’ve said things like, "Uh
huh, plenty of time for that. You just relax, get settled and in six
months to a year, we’ll talk about it." But she’s not having any six
months to a year crap. She wants her own place and she wants it NOW. She’s ONLY 76 (not 77 till July 20th) and perfectly capable, she wants her own kitchen, her own stuff, her own everything around her in her own place. Cancer, doncha know: the nesters of the zodiac.
She said something about the chaos of teens, but I couldn’t hear her over the noise. So that’s that. I’ve accepted the idea and I’m on the hunt.
Just looking for a place big enough for an old broad and her old dog, Mango, the sweetest lab-mix ever seen on the planet. Her rent maximum is $350/month including everything: all utilities, phone, internet. Do-able in Costa Rica. She wants to be close to us, so Escazú, Santa Ana. A short walk to a bus stop without having to walk straight down or up a hill (we live at the top of a precipice, as you know). If she could be in a village so she can walk to get a few groceries, she would be so happy. If you hear of anything, please let me know.
In the meantime, here’s the original Bob singing the original tune… God, were we stoned or what? And the no direction home link up there in the lyrics? That’s the Kathy that was one of my boys’ longest child care providers in Key West… and she bought my car, Daisy, the one they traveled the country in. Anyway… little history there. Back to the house hunt!