October is an odd time for me. It's the only month I want to hurry up and get over with. And it doesn't help that I hate Halloween. I wish Halloween was at the beginning rather than the end, because I despise how it has become a month-long holiday. Do we really need thirty-one days for celebrating one day of children panhandling for cheap candy? If it weren't for October, I could seamlessly start the Christmastime cheer in September.
Anyways, with all my annoyances and bad associations with this month, I always forget we moved to Anaheim in an October. On Saturday we signed our lease renewal. We spent nine months barely holding on to our home, yet the fantastic property management people actually offered us another year-renewal and at the same rent we've been paying for the last two years. I celebrated by buying some Red Heart yarn.
While we were signing the lease, we also discussed all the minor repairs that need done around our apartment to spruce it up again: sinks and tubs re-glazed, carpet clean and stretched, funky light bulbs replaced. Just days before all hell broke loose here this past January, I wrote a blog post about putting down roots. Well, I am back in that frame-of-mind again. But where as I have spent that past three seasons digging through closets (and cupboards) looking for stuff to sell so we could eat, I'm now going through closets (and cupboards) looking to scale down for a fresh start. Eventually, I may come across essentials to donate to Goodwill, but there are families much closer to home who appreciate free goodies.
We live in the heart of a hard-working, middle-class city. The neighborhood around our apartment complex is kept meticulously clean (living in an historic district that Disneyland helps pay to maintain has its perks!) and the complex itself is kept-up daily by a team of maintenance workers. But it's also the residents who, although only renting, also contribute by having a pride-of-ownership mentality. We all struggle to keep root here, making us like a family of trees. Therefore, many of us around here are aware that one's trash can be another one's treasure. The area near our outdoor trash chutes is often an impromptu gift shop: stacks of like-new paperback novels and magazines, bags of pressed and folded clothes, small piles of unbroken toys, boxes of spotless shoes — and my favorite — free furniture!
In horticulture, there is the practice of pruning trees to keep them healthy and growing better. Here's hoping applying the same practice by getting rid of the stuff I am better off without is true for the Tree of Life too.




















Sis, I'm just glad to see you're back.
Posted by: Kailyn | 10/11/2011 at 10:01 AM
Thanks! It's good to be back. :)
Posted by: BellaKarma | 10/11/2011 at 10:44 AM
Hi BK,
Your post really hit home with me! Among other things, I detest Halloween and have no idea why. You're the first person I ever heard admit it, well, other than me! Just want it to be over with! Plus I so need to get rid of "stuff"! Faced the "living in my 12 year old car with my dog" for the last year. Not good for the psyche. Hopefully we'll both be successful!! Love your blog!
Posted by: Christine | 10/12/2011 at 01:49 AM
Christine ~ Too funny about Halloween! It seems it's no big deal to say you detest "the (winter) holidays" or Valentine's Day - but people go bat-shit crazy when you say you hate Halloween! Halloween was never the same for me after River Phoenix died on October 31, 1993 and since that time, things have happened on or around Halloween that has added to my distaste for the day.
And I totally understand the "not good for the psyche." I've been fighting a panic attack since signing the lease on Saturday. And fighting the urge of wanting to pack everything up and flee while we have money.
Thank you so much for what you said about the blog! I kind of lost my blogging groove when I transferred over here (lost hundreds of comments and I still have some posts to manually re-post). But the love affair has been rekindled. :)
Posted by: BellaKarma | 10/12/2011 at 01:37 PM