Downgrade part2

All these years later, I can’t remember how I came to know about that first condominium I bought in Seattle. At the time I signed the paperwork, it wasn’t even completed, but I knew exactly how it would look because I’d seen the same model in another complex. I’d wanted to purchase it, but the real estate agent dragged her heels and it went to another buyer.

That was one of the very few times I’ve allowed myself to become excited. Getting excited too often leads to disappointment. The living room window that I lost out on had a stunning view of Mt Rainier and when the deal fell through I was crushed.

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They do say everything happens for a reason. Mere months later I bought the self same condo in mint condition. If I stood on tip toes and strained my neck I could just see Mt Rainier from one window, but I decided that anything worth having – or seeing – was worth working for, or driving out of my way to catch sight of. I didn’t want to ever find myself taking that wonderful mountain for granted.

Mt Rainier is in fact a volcano and judging from the way I still rave about my current view after seven years, I think I would not ever have failed to be impressed by it. To tell the truth, I was rather nervous when, some years later, I found myself living just a little closer to it than I was comfortable with. I didn’t lose sleep worrying about it and I once spent a night in a hotel up there on its flanks, but I remembered the eruption of Mt St Helens and I’d actually seen the devastation from that, still impressive some 25 years after.

If I’d been seriously concerned, of course, I wouldn’t have purchased a home located where mine was. I think it was the sight of tsunami evacuation route signs in the neighbourhood that bothered me, but that was a different sort of possibility, from the opposite direction!

Since childhood I have always been wary of volcanoes, though I’ve no idea why.

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Living in a property you own is different to renting, at least it was for me. Rentals are likely to be impermanent and although you regard them as home, it really isn’t the same when you don’t own it. I was always very conscious of occupying someone else’s property.

So, moving into the condo felt good and having everything brand new was delightful!

Yeti, Panther and I were very comfortable. Except for one thing.

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Yeti was getting old, while Panther was a young lad who wanted to play. I pondered the matter at length, wanting to keep them both happy and came to the eventual conclusion that Panther needed a young playmate. I did not rush off to the nearest shelter. I tossed the idea around. And around.

In the meantime, my father had arrived from England. We (I) had decided he should have his own separate dwelling, so I drove back and forth most days, as it happened passing by the local animal shelter and one day my car decided to turn and park in front.

Just for a look.

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Inside, I walked up and down in front of cages. Surprisingly, there were only 17 cats. Still in a quandary of indecision, I put myself in the hands of fate. The cages displayed cards listing information about the occupant. All except one containing a fluffy Maine coon type cat. It was unclear whether this cat was available for adoption, so I went to the office and inquired. If it was meant to be, that cat would go home with me.

As I sat waiting for the volunteer to come back, something told me I would be presented with a different cat and sure enough, the animal that was deposited in my lap was a medium-sized tortoiseshell that promptly began drooling copiously all over me. I had already decided that I would go with whatever the Universe had decided and this cat was clearly very keen.

She purred loudly as if saying: “Where have you been?”

I had the impression she mistook me for whoever had abandoned her. By the time we got home, I knew that her name was Annie.

Then I discovered that I’d created another problem…

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