Happy Shack

March 1st, 2009


 I spent too much time today trolling zillow.com trying to figure out what my 1,074 square foot house is worth now. Is my 3 bdrm better or worse than my neighbor’s 3 bdrm 3 blocks away? Is my lot slightly closer to the ritzy neighborhood I can’t claim to be part of or does it lean over into that lower-value neighborhood to the east? Why didn’t I add a bathroom when I had the extra money? What the hell happened to my equity? Unfortunately, what zillow can’t take into account are the number of porch parties held in this tiny house. The peace that blows through my prayer flags. The rosebush a friend gave me after my mother died and the note I wrote to my mother and planted under its roots. The nights listening to rain on the roof. The first dinner I cooked here for a new lover (okay, it didn’t work out, but it was still a landmark). The games of Scrabble and Cranium. Gin and tonic with my best friends on summer Sunday afternoons. Coming home from work and pulling the house around me like a security blanket.