Luxury Apartments…

I love living at Riverplace, I love our apartment, I love having a little community in the middle of nothing but farms and fields, I love that they gave us a ‘welcome home’ basket when we moved in, and I love being able to take nice relaxing walks to the river with my dogs but most of all I love my view. We’re so close in fact that I hear ducks and crickets 24/7 as long as I open the back windows.
Ed and Eddy love it too. We took two walks today, the second was a 7 pm stroll down to the river and I noticed that as the season slowly makes it’s way from summer to autumn the sun hits the water in an ever so slightly different way. The setting sun rays seem duller as they shine their heat upon the cold river and golden-brown leaves that are starting to cover the land.
Once we make our way back to the neighborhood itself it’s a perfect little compound. It has it’s own market, gym, pool and hot-tub, basketball hoop, and car wash which is all so convenient that it distracts me from feeling completely out of place. I have never lived in a place like this before but I had a handful of friends that grew up in them plus my dad worked as a draftsman for a tract housing company in Orange County so I’m familiar enough with the concept. I know they use cheap and short-term material, I know none of it is really craftsman, and I realize that it all looks just the same. I often kid with Eric that we are the neighborhood rif-raf causing it all to rattle, and our disobedient little pound pups do not help our case. Ultimately it doesn’t really matter though, I figure none of it does as long as we’re happy.

To better convey to you why living here often makes me feel like Joy from My Name is Earl let me share a story of my morning, a story that is not at all unique. Just now the delivery guy rang our doorbell and left an Amazon Prime package at the door. Ed and Eddy became ecstatic of course thinking that the door bell could only mean good things for puppies. I told them to sit and stay before opening the door, now I admit that usually door opening is a two person job in our home but it was only 10 am and Eric was still asleep after coming home from his night job (which is another thing that sets us apart from our 9 to 5 neighbors). So I foolishly hoped that maybe Ed and Eddy would be good boys for me this time. It would have worked too if the package had been at the left side of the door but of course it was on the right side, so once I had the door all the way open Ed bolted. Eddy was good and stayed close until, that is I waddled out calling Ed’s name at which point Eddy too dashed down the stairs and then sat down. I was wearing yoga pants, a ratty old t-shirt and no shoes or bra but I made my way down the stairs for my dogs; Eddy stayed put knowing that he had been a bad dog but Ed looked right at me, wagged his tail, and dashed into the parking lot attempting to start a game of chase.
I rolled my eyes exasperatedly and dropped my head, how could I chase Ed and expect Eddy to stay put? Just then though my knight in shining boxers showed up. He grabbed Eddy who of course peed himself befo


re remembering that Eric was not scary as are most men. He then got to licking his beard and I, mean while, managed to get Ed to come and follow me back home (he is the one who on occasion will walk up the stairs). So disaster averted, and best of all I don’t think any of our neighbors saw this ordeal, thank god. This kind of shenanigans takes place far too often however for us to go entirely unnoticed.

I guess that’s what bugs me about living here, it is lovely and I literally have nothing to complain about but it’s just so damn picturesque that sometimes I feel like that accidental out-of-place brushstroke that’s distracting from the subject of the painting. I’ve never lived anywhere with an on-site management company or even an association for that matter so it’s going to take some getting use to. I figure it’s a fun experience to have though and so we’re all just trying to embrace it for as long as we can manage.
The best thing about living in Independence, Oregon for me though is that it feels like home. I haven’t felt at home like this since I was about seventeen years old. I guess it was after my junior year of high school that I started to move around and travel and look for a place of my own to settle down. So it’s been an eight year journey but I think it’s finally wrapping up.

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This picture is from once back home Eric went to bed, and sensing that I was somewhat less than happy with them Ed and Eddy decided their best bet would be to jump in and join him. All their running around was enough to warrant a nap for those little legs.

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