Slogging through the listings

Well, I have made it through all the current listings on craigslist for rentals, as of yesterday, with nothing to pursue so far.  The only possibility was on a second floor--park here, walk the length of the small complex, go up the stairs, walk back to the parking side.  With my back, his knee?  Okay for a motel for a day or two, not for a place to live.  That has eaten up my time and attention.  I get to look again tomorrow.

Actually, since there is no local craigslist for Tacoma, what I did was go to housing for rent, click on it, and then at the search bar write "2 bedroom Tacoma" and tell it to find.  This took it down to 850+ listings, not all of which were in fact 2-bedroom or in Tacoma proper, but it did cull out Seattle and points north.  The deal is, you scan down the list, click on something you want to see, and then keep scrolling.  Lots of 1-BR, a few 3-BR, ignore those.  Some will say "Tacoma/Spanaway" or "/something else" so ignore those.  The ones that say Federal Way, which is over the county line, are useless.

I can find places that would be feasible on space and budget, but not so far in our ward.  We are operating on faith that the right place will open up when we are ready.  It's my job to find where we are going to live, and his to pack anything heavy, which is almost everything at this point.  Clothes and bedding are what a friend is helping me go through, and there are big bags to donate to Deseret Industries.

My biggest problem is that it's hard to concentrate on anything else.  Even when that's not what I'm doing, the issues intrude.  I was blessed to be able to give a good lesson for the class I teach, but if I hadn't had that divine help on the spot, it would have been a much poorer experience for everyone because I had real trouble preparing.  I think I can do better this week.

It's hard just to navigate the spaces, as all the automatic don't-have-to-think-about-it patterns are shot.  I headed for the bathroom which is behind the kitchen, and didn't turn on a light--so I barked my shins on a big plastic bin.  I had told hubby that no, he couldn't put a stack of three there outside the bathroom door, because I could not slither sideways in and out every time I needed to reach the bathroom; one bin my legs could get past with my body overhanging, but higher than that, nope, sorry, not possible.  But I forgot for that moment that the one bin was there.  I have been taking that bend into the back for over thirty years--and the kitchen light is on the far wall anyway--and just hitting the bathroom light when I get there.  Ouch! can't do that now.

This is the current view from standing in my front door.  One is supposed to be able to walk straight back into the kitchen, but...

standing in the doorway, have to detour left  (you can, honest)

 ...you can't get there from here.  The plastic bins are full of laser disc movies, the stack of cardboard boxes beyond it are full of DVDs.  The terracotta colored lines are the passageway to the kitchen.  (Originally there was a door there, removed before our time.)  Beyond those boxes is the door to the basement, which I can still reach by going around the books in the cardboard box, through the living and dining rooms, into the kitchen, and doubling back to the basement stairs to take my laundry.

Right now he needs to come move boxes out of my way on the living room floor so that I can do my physical therapy stuff.  One of them is full of books, and I can't move it myself.  This is a reminder that wherever we move, the living room has to be big enough to accommodate this daily process, and it is also why we will never have a coffee table.

We've taken lots of books and VHS tapes to church for the picking of anyone who wanted them, when we had an ice cream social last week.  We have some separated out that our kids want.  So we are making inroads.

Isn't life grand?  (Actually it is, and we are still smiling.  Even at each other.)