Co housing v living solo in nature?
Excuse, whilst justmeandlilley have a conflab.
We have conflabbed and here is our analysis of the attributes for Co-Housing:
FOR - safety - sanity - sensibileness, - it's expected - company of other old people 😲 joining in on coach trips - sometimes a communal lounge. Acting my age - for once?
AGAINST - nosiness - taking too much interest in YOU personally (please, no one, come back with why would they be interested in YOU? You're nobody, you're too paranoid, ha ha ha…' Grrr). Wanting to be friends but then wanting to 'be friends' 24/7. Miraculously appearing at their front fence as you walk past with your dog for your quiet, peaceful, afternoon solo stroll and taking up the next hour and half whilst they blabber on mindlessly about NOTHING.
Winding back for more tales of the grandkids, you are expected to 'fill in' with fascinating titbits of your life. And, to be honest, your life probably does have its fascinating tidbits but, are they repeatable whilst seated at new friend Brenda's tea- table with the wobbly legs? With some relief I can report mine aren't.
I find as I stagger on with Lilley, as an aloner, awoc, old person - the alone lifestyle - it becomes addictive.
Being an only child, one does become fixed, set in one's ways, capable with a screwdriver and hammer. Immersed in ones own company and liking it too much. A grumpy, old woman.
I did recently say on twitter I'm an irresponsible, very naughty old person. Twitter liked it. A lot. It seems people like a naughty old person.
DEFINE NAUGHTY, TRISH..
Just not being or acting old. Apart from those necessary times when it suits to 'act old', of course. In the meantime, living not as you are expected but as you darn well want to. Not dressing in full M & S and calling it 'designer'. Be dangerous…(look - jumping out of a plane at 95 years of age strapped to a hunky 25 year old. That's just so 'over'. Flying it, like Joy A's mum, meanwhile…👍🏼) *** see reference below.
I'm joking. Sky diving is barmy but whatever floats your raft.
My risk extends to living in a field.
You must make your own provision for safety (like cctv, an alarm, safe stairs if that's what you have and so on)
I fully accept that if I'm going to make daft decisions and live in the middle of my field, it's down to me to make sure I'm as safe as possible.
When have you ever been sensible, Trish?
There have been times. I bought vegan Doc Martens instead of fancy boots. (No one told me they'd take three months to wear-in). I didn't buy that lovely bungalow in Burnham Market when I should have done because of stupid, stupid lawyer from an offshore island somewhere in the Channel…
- stupid, stupid man. 😁 Another story for another time.
Aha…Lilley is here. Whenever I go off on a rant, which seems to be happening with increasing regularity nowadays, Lilley comes and sits on my laptop. Sorted.
Look, I jest. Generally I am a reasonably rational, old person. Making old person decisions. Then ripping out the page and looking at fields for sale.
We had a terrific talk about Co-housing with Yvonne's Dorset AWOC group some time back. Afterwards the conversation around the subject kept going. One friend was all for putting an offer on a piece of prime land in the centre of Lincoln. What with, I asked? Peppercorn?
We get it. I get it. Then I didn't and panicked. It's the thought of close living. I realise that is the point of the whole thing so that old people can remain safer in their homes. Unlike those who realise their dreams and hoof it to a Yorkshire Dale sitting on a 1 in 4 gradient with no neighbours.
No neighbours.. No flippin' neighbours. Give me a minute...
I just wondered if it's because I'm now officially old so it's like a last gasp at stupidity.
Is it an ageing alone thing? You're free, independent, no one to answer to, no one to care so what the hell? Die laughing in a field you love. Or just die, living with 'others'. Others - who can be both exhausting and boring - be honest. So can I, which is why I'm considering removing my boring and exhausting presence from society. Imposing it on passing wildlife. Aren't I the giving one?
Finally, here's the thing - Lilley and I have joined a local walking group. Today was our walk so off we dashed early start at 9am. But they don't half go at a pace. Getting left behind, I worried it was simply me being slow so I quickened my steps. But puffing and gasping I had to sit at halfway point. Folk in the group are very kind and stopped with me. It was OK as passers by paused to chat. In fact we picked up a couple of new walking members, one of whom was a puffer and a sitter like me. It was kindly pointed out that she and I should pitch up as we're 'slower' and 'wouldn't hold the group back if we meandered together'. Good to know…
I should definitely live in a field…
**Will anyone read this? Will anyone even see this? Will it even BE ON or make it to the internet?
I have no idea, nowadays.
**Just so long as we all know - I am a nobody - got that? Good. To be honest, that's an improvement on what I've been called.
*** Joy Anderson's fantastic piece titled 'Who Cares' coming next. Watch out for it…It's a cracker.
By the way, If you got to the end of this, thank you for holding on. You are my kind of folk.
"So I said to this Doberman, I said, 'you might think yer 'ard, mate, but I'll give you 'ard.'"
What did you do, Lilley?
"I kissed 'im".
"Cos he were a bit of alright and I fancied his mate."
Get inside - now!
"He he he..."