The Things They Left Behind

Today was a beautiful, warm day – perfect for fixing the gutters.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that needs to be done to this house. It’s easy to forget that it was only a year ago we were here in the northeast US looking around at possible places to move to. We went back to France with a huge list of jobs that needed to be done to sell that house. And a vague idea of something called an “immigrant visa.”

Now we’re completely relocated and feel at home in many ways. Starting to become familiar with the area, meeting more and more neighbors and locals. Even venturing out for a gig over the weekend: “Live Rust” would be an appropriate title for the performance, it was that creaky. The sound didn’t help but the audience were sweet. Stayed way too long after but at least it meant there were fewer drivers on the Long Island Expressway.

The gutters and winterizing feel kind of crucial because we’re leaving for almost a month to play gigs in the UK and what if some harsh weather comes on while we’re away? Apparently, the Previous Owners used to pour their all into Halloween displays worthy of visits from the local TV news crew; the Christmas lights were also industrial-strength – if only the same amount of care and effort had gone into keeping water out of the basement and windows from rotting loose!

But every now and then I notice little items that they left behind and I think those people couldn’t have been all bad.


piano chimes


rope swing


5 thoughts on “The Things They Left Behind

  1. the fly in the web

    When we first bought this place the owner left a sofa and chairs which I hated then and hate now, but which Mr. Fly refused and refuses to dump because they were free! You can see how bad they are by the fact that even the puppy won't pee on them…Still, I can buy something more comfortable for the San Jose house, something in colours which don't make you think of subfusk vomit…So glad everything is going well for you!

  2. Amy

    hi Fly – a friend visiting (whose taste I respect and admire) just told me how much she loves fake wood finishes, so now the nasty flooring I couldn't wait to get rid of has taken on a more fashionable look. Still, some items are beyond help. My adult life can be measured in couches I had to learn to live with because they were a) free b) cheap or c) too much trouble to get rid of. Even the one we moved all the way from France because it has such a pleasing shape comes with a disclaimer when people visit – "that's going to be recovered with a different fabric". Five years we've been saying it.

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