“You mean the cat gets his own bedroom?” my husband wanted to know. Um, yes. And you have to share it with him. Before you deem me a crazy cat lady (and childless..that part is true), I can explain…

We aren’t having marital problems. And he gets the night shift with me in the main bedroom. We are blissfully happy, really. He does have to share the second bathroom and closet with the cat, though. A necessary concession as we are in the final rental phase of our home build, and I couldn’t bring myself to extend the lease on the last house. That one was too big, too remote, too weird. So I found us a lovely little charmer instead. Walking distance to town. Sweet little garden. But…no garage. No double sinks, and a condition that the cat MUST stay in one room at all times for the duration of our rental period per our allergic landlord. And because no kitty of mine will be relegated to the laundry room, he gets his own suite.

We could have stuck it out in the last rental. It had so many rooms I could have brought six more pets back from the rescue. The trails, sunsets, space…outrageous. And ultimately, miserable. After several heartfelt convos, my man and I chose to downsize. For a better relationship, a better future. Here’s why:

What was that?

I loathe shouting. And shouters. And in a massive house, it’s required. Unless I want to text my spouse 2000 square feet away, or install one of those ridiculous intercom systems. I struggled to keep an eye on my curious puppy in that last rental. Before I could shout “off!”, he’d already kicked the dirt out of the house plant. Walks outside were a solo affair, to the extent I started talking to Charlie like a BFF. Zero human interaction unless my husband was home. Not so now. Our current rental is sandwiched between other historic adobe charmers, and I rarely step outside without encountering friendly neighbors walking their dogs too.

Unless you gotta a place to put that..

Amazing what living in a smaller place does to preserve my wallet. Let’s start with the closet. As mentioned, the man’s clothes are co-mingled in bedroom #2 with cat supplies. Because only mine fit in the puny master closet. The house was built in the 30s. People then didn’t have fast fashion. I’m learning and adapting. LOL.

What I described as a “mini-move” from the last rental to this one felt massive. It involved 2 guys and truck, a small off-site storage unit, and donated goods. It’s worth noting we already have three giant storage units filled with stuff in Arizona waiting to be moved to Santa Fe in December. Where will all that stuff go?!?

Practice, practice and all is coming

Wise words from the late B.K.S. Iyengar, yoga master. Our new home build is smaller than the last several homes we’ve lived in. By more than 1000 sf. So all that extra stuff has Got. To. Go. Fortunately, we had lunch with a new friend in Santa Fe who hooked us up with a donation service in Phoenix. This service is going to re-home the furniture we know won’t fit into our new home to newly housed homeless people getting back on their feet. We’re giving up garden space to gain views on the lot we chose to build on, too. A first. We won’t miss the maintenance, finicky irrigation, or ravenous bunnies associated with big gardens. This house will be smaller. Cozier. Better.

For now, we are practicing living smaller (small being relative..our NYC pals would laugh at what we consider small) in our current rental. Enjoying bumping into each other, hearing our pets converse, walking everywhere, and appreciating how less is often more. Even if it means sharing a room with the cat.