You really should take the computer away from me
At least until the fever goes away.
I'm afraid I snapped while reading the latest blog discussion raving about the "green" condo development at 23rd & Pine -- which is the site of that 100-year-old teardown house I was so obsessed with last year. (You might remember if you've been around that long.)
Yes, developers should promote green design. Yes, they should invest in green technology in their green design. And I don't eat babies for breakfast either.
At the same time, what about that woman who's homeless now? Even if her story isn't true -- and whose is? -- it's true of somebody -- because whose isn't?
Here's what I wrote.
- - - - -
I've watched that 23rd & Pine project from before the beginning. I was a little obsessed with it for a while, especially after meeting its former, now homeless, yet quite talkative tenant there a few times.
The single-family house it replaced was 100 years old -- a stout, friendly old codger not afraid to sport a little gingerbread. Doubtless, the house was not in the best repair. I could see that myself as the rooms were peeled away.
If anything my gal said was true, its tenants were longterm and had never partaken in the abundance we quibble about. That house kept them dry and off the shoals. And then it was gone.
I don't know what happened. Maybe the old guy (if there was one) died and his son in Tucson sold the property. Could have been a foreclosure. Maybe somebody wanted to go see what living in Saskatchewan is like. Maybe my informant is as imaginative as I am gullible. I don't know.
Does it matter?
I have a habit of living in old houses. Mine was built in 1922 by a fellow who lived next door. He was a stonemason. He built this house for his son, who never lived in it.
For a long time, a lady who took care of foster kids lived here. Maybe it was one of them who dropped the iron on the floor in the attic (we saw the burn on the floor when we pulled up the carpet).
I don't think it was that accident that caused the fire 10 years ago. (The shape of the iron is older fashioned.) It gutted the house, which sat empty for a number of years. Then some flippers renovated it two owners ago.
Now I'm piecing together its history as my own goes on.
Does it matter?
Does it matter what happened to the house that got torn down? Does it matter what happened to the people who lived there? Does it matter what the stonemason's name was, what his life was like? Or why his son didn't live here?
I'm afraid I snapped while reading the latest blog discussion raving about the "green" condo development at 23rd & Pine -- which is the site of that 100-year-old teardown house I was so obsessed with last year. (You might remember if you've been around that long.)
Yes, developers should promote green design. Yes, they should invest in green technology in their green design. And I don't eat babies for breakfast either.
At the same time, what about that woman who's homeless now? Even if her story isn't true -- and whose is? -- it's true of somebody -- because whose isn't?
Here's what I wrote.
- - - - -
I've watched that 23rd & Pine project from before the beginning. I was a little obsessed with it for a while, especially after meeting its former, now homeless, yet quite talkative tenant there a few times.
The single-family house it replaced was 100 years old -- a stout, friendly old codger not afraid to sport a little gingerbread. Doubtless, the house was not in the best repair. I could see that myself as the rooms were peeled away.
If anything my gal said was true, its tenants were longterm and had never partaken in the abundance we quibble about. That house kept them dry and off the shoals. And then it was gone.
I don't know what happened. Maybe the old guy (if there was one) died and his son in Tucson sold the property. Could have been a foreclosure. Maybe somebody wanted to go see what living in Saskatchewan is like. Maybe my informant is as imaginative as I am gullible. I don't know.
Does it matter?
I have a habit of living in old houses. Mine was built in 1922 by a fellow who lived next door. He was a stonemason. He built this house for his son, who never lived in it.
For a long time, a lady who took care of foster kids lived here. Maybe it was one of them who dropped the iron on the floor in the attic (we saw the burn on the floor when we pulled up the carpet).
I don't think it was that accident that caused the fire 10 years ago. (The shape of the iron is older fashioned.) It gutted the house, which sat empty for a number of years. Then some flippers renovated it two owners ago.
Now I'm piecing together its history as my own goes on.
Does it matter?
Does it matter what happened to the house that got torn down? Does it matter what happened to the people who lived there? Does it matter what the stonemason's name was, what his life was like? Or why his son didn't live here?