My New Home

As mentioned earlier, it is time to describe my new home. It is important to note that since my return to Connecticut, if I have not been hospitalized or in one protected environment or another, whether shelter or nursing home (as in the lamentable Bowels of Hell, also previously mentioned). These places, while less than ideal, have served their purpose insofar as food and shelter are concerned. They also have kept me away from the bars and liquor stores and other near occasions of sin. The test for that comes now I am in my own place.

My room is not huge but it is on the front side of the house with two windows, one facing the front, generally west, and the other faces generally north. These windows actually open and there is a ceiling fan. My furniture at this point consists of a mattress on the floor, a round table, a wooden hamper, a bookcase, a wooden folding chair, and a folding camping chair. If things hold true to form I will soon be in need of more bookcases.

My book collection at this time is a bit sparse, especially in the reference section where I have nothing at all. When present, I take my dictionaries for granted; when I have none, it is a real feeling of loss. The plural case is correct, too. From The Compact Oxford English Dictionary to my old Liddell & Scott Latin-English dictionary (lost after all this time), to all my foreign language-English dictionaries, these are books that are essential to any place I call home. Their absence will not cause me any irreparable harm, but their presence sure would be reassuring. Time will solve this. This is not to mention the books that I habitually read over and over, but, again, this will all come in time.

The house itself is very light and I have the run of the first floor which consists of an adequate bathroom, a fairly large living room, and a big, airy kitchen. There are two bedrooms in the basement which I have not yet seen. Both are occupied by men named Mark and I, of course, am Marc. Pronounced the same, but orthographically different. I have asked the other two to call me Marcus (my actual, given name) if it will make things easier. There also is a sick cat (thyroid) named Kitty, but who is so thin due to her condition that I call her Stick when no one else is around. She doesn't seem to mind. One of the Marks living downstairs is half-owner of the property and that helps to assure that the place is well-kept and that behavior is kept at an acceptable standard.

The front yard and my front window look out on Main Street which is busy, but the traffic noise is soon blocked out except for the occasional suicide jockey on his crotch rocket looking for a speeding ticket. The back yard is even quieter and on Thursday morning, my first and only, so far, I saw a male cardinal light in a bush and then flutter up into a tree. This was favorite bird of my Dad's and I took it as a sort of greeting from him. A good beginning.