My introduction to country living
There’s nothing you can do to convince me to open my basement door. All I see is some sort of black pit of doom, so I keep the door closed at all times.
I even close the door that leads to the door to the basement.
You see, I finally found a cute house to rent, and I’m in the process of unpacking my life into it. It has a cute kitchen that looks out over a cute dirt road and cute farmland. It’s all small and homey, and the little red teakettle I sat on the stove just adds to the cuteness of it all.
Did I mention it was cute?
It would be amazingly cute if it weren’t for the creepy basement.
And the well water… and the propane.
Well, the latter two aren’t “creepy,” but they’re definitely things that make me slightly uncomfortable.
I don’t think I’ve ever touched well water before or depended on propane to keep me warm at night. I probably looked like an idiot when I looked at one of my coworkers and asked, “But how does well water… work?”
Yes, I know the water comes from a well and that I’m not hooked up to a city system, but I just don’t know what it feels like to stand under a stream of it in the shower. (That’s right, days into living there and I haven’t used the shower. I just went back to my parents’ house instead.)
I guess the question I meant to ask was, “What will it do to me?”
Am I going to turn yellow? Is my skin going to shrivel up and fall off my bones? Am I going to die if I drink it?
OK, I’m exaggerating a little.
But I’m not playing up how scared I am of that basement. Who knows what lives down there behind the furnace and water softening system?
It doesn’t help that I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do about Internet and TV, because the more sounds I create in the house, the less likely I am to hear those creepy creaking and thumping noises of a house I’m unfamiliar with.
I don’t think I’ll survive on dial-up Internet and no cable. It’s fun for now since I’m busy doing other things, but I know it’ll get old after a while.
I’m looking at everything as a good learning experience. I will know more than I ever thought I could know about taking care of a house, and that’s great to take along with me to all future homes.
With time, I might even work up the courage to go into the basement… maybe.