Proper spaces

Last week, Tim moved the large drinking glasses to the right side of the cupboard, and put the small ones on the left side. Friends, the large drinking glasses have always been on the left. The large ones belong on the left, and the small ones belong on the right. After Tim moved them to the wrong sides, they sat in that cupboard, looking so very uncomfortable, lost and unhappy and upset. So I waited patiently until the dishwasher was full again, and then I unloaded it correctly, putting the large glasses back on the left.

Ah.  Doesn't that feel so much better?

I've been thinking a bit about the way things fit and don't fit, and how we get used to particular spaces. Yesterday we took Jonathan to a friend's house out in the suburbs, then Tim and I took a long walk back, through quiet tree-lined streets and parks, to the end of the line on a tram and then back into the city.

We've talked about the idea of buying a house again. Here, housing prices have doubled every ten years since forever. There has never been a burst housing bubble. Going into major debt is seen as a good investment in the future. Is it?

We could think about buying a house in the suburbs. Maintaining a house might not be as big a chore as it was in our previous place. Houses are smaller here, and gardens are smaller, and there would not be so much yard work, although there would be yard work again. And we would have to buy a car, so that we could use it to haul groceries and drive ourselves to events off in other suburbs. Do we want to go back to that? I kind of don't want to go back to that. The rate we pay in rent currently for three bedrooms and two bathrooms is significantly less than the rate we would pay in a mortgage for the same sized space for the next 30 years. And mortgages seem to be variable interest rates, so if the rate goes up, so does our monthly bill. Is it worth it to own a slice of lawn to mow? Or dirt to attract those famous deadly Australian spiders?

It seems like such a strange thing to so many people we know, to choose to give up home ownership willingly. But this life and this space seem to work surprisingly well for us. I'm bruising my knuckles while knocking on the wooden table as I write that. But thinking out ten years, twenty years, I'm still not convinced I want that yard work. If we bought a house now, we could in theory own a home that would be worth over four million dollars then, applying that doubling trick. But we would have paid nearly that much money in mortgage and interest. Whereas right now, we live in the most amazing location at the foot of a huge park where someone else does the yard work for us. The money we are saving in mortgage can be squirreled away to support our retirement.

I feel like we belong where we are for now. Like those large glasses, over on the left side of the cupboard. They could be moved, no harm done, but it just wouldn't feel as comfortable.