So long Aztec, Hello Farm Town

Carl and Angie have returned from their summer travels, and too bad for me, they want their house back. Since they own the house I've been living in, it was time for me to go.

Rental housing in Farmington is pretty grim.

One place was 300 square feet (90 sq m) and cost $650 / month. No yard, gravel parking spot in front of the unit. That's like Manhattan prices in the middle of nowhere. (I know not quite Manhattan, but ridiculous for outside of a major city.) Most places I did not want to approach or go in. I would think, "you know, I wouldn't live here for free. There is no negotiable price I would pay to stay here."

So I kept looking.

One place I looked at was like a John Waters movie. (I don't know if I have seen one, but I've seen previews) Anyhow, "Ruth" is looking for someone to rent a room from her. She is in a trailer village on the edge of town. I didn't even know this area exists, until I needed to find it. Row upon row of trailers. Entire neighborhoods. Trashed cars, trash all over, etc.

When I get there, I find this poor woman is hooked up to an oxygen tank, with a 30' cord so she can get to both ends of the trailer. She has the requisite little white yapping dog, a rotund putrid chiahua, and a barrel shaped skanky cat. I don't know if the urine stench was human, cat, or dog, or some mixture of them, but it was unbearable.

And yet, I had to go in and look it. It was just too weird.

So I stepped inside. She can't leave without the oxygen tank, so I am sure she doesn't leave often. She sits all day and knits dresses for these little platsic dolls. The dolls have an opening so you can slide an air freshener up inside it. I imagine the dolls are made by whatever hellish corporation makes "Renuzit" and you can buy them from a flyer in the Sunday paper. All of the walls, from the floor to the ceiling, have shelves about 12" apart, with doll after doll after doll, hundreds of them all identical except the dresses she knits, throughout the living room, dining room, and all these little freaky plastic eyes staring at you.

Hoping I would not be snared by a trap door or some other bad deal, I ran away.

Eventually I found a decent place just a few miles from school. Before I bought a futon to sleep on, I bought a new grill. I am having to do the roommate thing again, which is not preferred, but we have worked things out just fine to this point.

On my second morning I wheeled my bike outside to get in an early ride. Pumped up the tires. Rain drops on my back? Cold rain comes down for a few minutes. I decide to wait it out and am rewarded with a double rainbow in the desert over Farmington. Not a bad way to start a damp ride.