I am a renter and I’m a happy renter. I love my little house, my little patch of garden, and the fact that I can move on a whim, should a whim occur, and that if anything breaks I can just pick up the phone and someone else will fix it.
But my landlord is getting old (like 95, old) and his idea of property maintenance has become a little off-kilter.
Last week, after he and his helpers had been around, I went out to find that my flowerbed (which, granted, could have used a little weeding) had been weed-whacked.
I looked at the pink heads of my dianthus flung across the patch of dirt that had once been my flowerbed. And then I took a deep breath and went back inside.
I’ve learned to get zen with the idea that my home isn’t really my home and that my property doesn’t actually belong to me. It’s not always easy, but when I remember that the recent blocked toilet, broken water heater, and creatures in the rafters don’t belong to me either, the ruined flowerbed becomes a whole lot easier to stomach.
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What are you trying to get zen with?