Up De Hill

Like most of my days here, arriving back to Red Hook one day early from sailing school proved to be interesting. After the three-minute uphill hike to my little studio, I washed up and headed down to my landlord, Sandra’s office to let her know I would be moving in earlier than expected since she was allowing me to keep my stuff in the apartment while I was sailing. She seemed a little annoyed even though she had mentioned before I left I could move in any time and all my stuff was already there. She told me to call her daughter, Adrian, when I got home. I just smiled, apologized and headed to the laundromat.

Any time I head up the hill to my studio, I stop for a second, look up, take a deep breath and start counting. 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, I’m going to have a nice butt after living here for a month, 1-2-3-4, hope a car drives by soon, maybe they’ll give me a lift, 1-2-3-4, yeah, that’s the view I moved here for, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, am I going backwards, 1-2-3-4, almost there. After finally making it to the top I let out a sigh and unlocked the house and gave Adrian a call. Adrian lives on the same property in the house next door with her man-friend Chris.

She asked if she could come over to give me a walk through. A little confused as to why I needed a walk-through since my apartment is so small, I agreed, and she was over before I had time to sit down.

My apartment, in addition to being small is also very rustic, perfect training ground for living on a boat. In fact, Adrian referred to it as boat living several times. It is located on the bottom floor of Sandra and Ed’s cabin that, I am told by Sandra, was designed by famous architect Douglas White. Upon further investigation, I found a Douglas White Architect, but his website is no more than a homepage (but, who am I to judge, that’s all lizlacoco.com consists of right now too).

Weathered wood slats line the outside. Glass windows do not exist. The windows consist of wooden flaps hinged from the top. When the boards are propped open, they let in enough light and breeze to be comfortable. The screens throughout the apartment, although jankety, keep most of the bugs out and I haven’t found any gecko’s inside, yet. Adrian said I needed to keep all my food in the fridge so I don’t get a rat infestation. So even my pasta, canned goods and chips are kept in the fridge. When I asked about trash, she replied, “You’re on your own.” Alrightie then.

The quality of the apartment most resembling boat living would be the bathroom, which I have more appropriately labeled the head (the boat term for the bathroom). When I first saw the toilet, the electric blue water confused me. Adrian explained I was not to flush any toilet paper and to live by the mantra “if it’s yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown flush it down.” Ooops, this is what the walk-through was for. I did not confess to my previous bathroom breaks. Apparently, all of our sewage goes to a septic tank right outside Adrian and Chris’s cabin. If toilet paper goes down, it clogs and they get to smell it. I crossed my heart and hoped to die that I would follow this rule. So that is what the blue water is about. I can deal. The showerhead comes right out of the wall and drains into the floor. This means everything must be waterproof in the head. It only took ruining one roll of TP to figure that one out. Since everyone on the property shares a 600-gallon cistern, showers are a little different Up De Hill (the name Sandra has given to her house). First, I quickly turn on the water and get completely wet. With the water turned off, I shampoo my hair, suds up, shave my legs, etc., etc. Then I rinse. Finally, I condition, and brush my teeth before one final rinse. Luckily, it’s always so hot; this system actually works for me. In the middle of telling me the run down Adrian mentioned that she had noticed I was taking a glucosamine supplement. She asked me if I noticed a difference. Then right after, she asked if I had been here for a while because she recognized me from the pictures in one of my photo albums. I said no, very surprised at the openness of her snooping.

One thing I have noticed about many folks living down here, they are not shy as to tell you their whole life story right of the bat. In the 20 minutes that Adrian was giving me the walk-through, she disclosed a lot of personal information to me, no questions asked. She moved here 4 years ago from New York after her husband died and has been living off of disability since then. I did not really know how to respond to this information, so I just stood there. Then she asked if I had met Chris and I followed her up the stairs and down to her cabin. “He can kind of be an intimidating guy. Don’t ever come over here without yelling or calling over first.” She yelled down that the new tenant was coming. Lounging, shirtless on a daybed, Chris, a 250 lb man, lifted his head and started to explain the importance of the toilet routine. I promised again, and headed home, unsure of what I had gotten myself into.

Later that day, I was headed down the hill when Chris drove by, he asked if I wanted a ride, I happily accepted. Because the only working door was on the back passenger side, I found myself being chauffeured to the bottom of the hill. He used this alone time to give me some quick tips. “Sandra and Ed don’t really like me getting involved but, I understand that you don’t have a car, so trash is no problem, I can help you out. And Ed, Ed just drives so fast. I’ve told him to slow down. He should really warn his tenants. But, if you hear a car on the driveway, jump to the bushes.” I thanked him for the advice and trash offer and hopped out of the car.