Here

      I live in a sprawling, half-block long, old house that was converted to 2 apartments; I'm on the first floor.  Other than being cold and drafty in the winter and too hot in the summer, I like my apartment.   Three rooms of the original house (they added on other rooms in the back) have beautiful stained glass windows.  In the largest room are two tall stained glass windows -- just like in a church.  One is small: maybe 48" wide x 4 feet high.  It's got reds, purples, golds, yellows and greens.  It's completely made of the stained glass with no clear glass, so it doesn't open.  Neither does the tallest stained glass window, which starts about waist high and ends within a foot of the 9+ foot high ceiling.  Another one in that room is a rectangular shape.  It actually has a wall behind it, so technically it isn't a window.  A very old switch turns on a a tiny light bulb that sits between the glass and the wall.  I often turn the light on at night with all other lights off;  the colors are beautiful. 

     The other 2 rooms that have stained glass have it across the top of regular windows with a picture window between the smaller windows.  Sun pours through the room on the east every morning, while the west-facing room gets the afternoon sun.  Although beautiful, the stained glass helps heat the apartment, making it nicer in the winter but upping the heat inside in the summer.  The windows would be much more enjoyable if the house was better insulated and if there was central air.

     A second bedroom, a dining area, kitchen and bath was put on the back as an addition.  They sit partly over the original 9 foot deep, large (& I mean large) well that used to be right outside the original kitchen (now the center of the house).  Shortly after moving in, I put in insulation in the crawl spaces under the back rooms.  That's when I discovered the uncovered 9 foot dry well (double well, side by side).  With help of another person, we cleaned out the well, finding old bottles, 1960s "adult magazines," along with a big collection of wood and construction materials.  We laid sheets of 1" plywood over each side of the well to stop the cold air coming in (the holes were so long and so wide, each plywood sheet was used uncut).  It felt good that all the stuff my dad taught me about house construction had come in handy as I "weatherized" and "improved" through little projects.

     The property has 7 medium-sized flower beds, and an approx. 10 foot x 20 foot garden.  I used to take care of all of them - until I got sick.  What had been fun hobbies became too difficult to do anymore.  No more eating green beans from the vine,  no more beefstake tomatoes so big they hung over the edges of slices of bread.  Flower bulbs that needed split up 6 years ago have finally choked themselves underground as they continued to multiply themselves every year.  The once-fertile garden now grows 6 foot tall "weeds" that took over after my last garden attempt 6 years ago; the landlord apparently has no interest in cutting that area, although he has weed-wacked the entire bed of daisies and Black-eyed Susans, all the daffodils, and several blooming rosebushes.  He said it was an accident, but I don't see how he could commit the same accident in 4 separate flower beds; he just didn't want the job of weeding those areas.   He loves his weed-wacker!  One pass and "the problem" is gone!  But, so is the beauty gone that grew there too.

     I often miss doing the weeding, gardening and "home improvement" projects I did.  Bad backs and bad legs make obstacles for many former gardeners.  Illness has even made a "great, roomy apartment" now feel like a burden.  Walls need washed, carpets need scrubbed, and just keeping up with the little things one does regularly in their home or apartment has become too hard.   And, no matter how many people you hire to do a job (and they can do the jobs well), nothing replaces the personal satisfaction one gets in doing projects on your own. 

     So "here" no longer fits my needs.  I can't manage a large house now.  Trekking stairs has become too hard so I cannot get to the basement.  And even simple tasks now cause frustration.  I hope that wherever I move next, it might have parts of this apartment, but be a scaled-down version.  Maybe a window box instead of flower beds and garden?  Maybe a touch of stained glass here and there.  Include a quiet setting, and I'd be content.