Tag Archives: Louisville

New siding, still unsold

The Shire,
still unsold,
has a new look.
I had always wondered
about having shingles on the front
of a house or a condo,
still unsold.

See you along the Trail.

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The condo that never sells?

The Song That Never Ends” played, but did not end, on episodes of Lamb Chop’s Play-Along, a children’s TV show that aired on PBS from 1992-1997. It became quickly annoying. Each week. Every week.

The lyrics and tune repeated. And repeated. And repeated. No progress. No resolution.

The Shire in Louisville appears to have some commonalities with the song. Despite efforts of real estate agents; despite thoughts, well wishes and prayers of friends; despite offers and possibilities; it remains mine. Another sale has fallen through. My ownership just goes on and on.

On Friday, I journey to Louisville. A couple of days later, Tricia will join me. And, we will stay at the Shire. The dismantled Shire. The Shire bereft of almost all comforts. The Shire that never sells.

But we will make do. And we will save our respective employers money. And we will pose anew the question that has haunted humanity and wannabe hobbits through the ages:

Care to buy a condo in Louisville?

See you along the Trail.

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Security

Long line
slowly moves,
privilege whines.

SDF
20 April 2012 

 

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Shelter in the storm

Time and again, I would return to the Shire to find that the electricity had gone out. The clocks showed me that. Power seemed somewhat fragile.

Yet two years in a row, when snow and ice sent Louisville into a deep freeze, the Shire provided shelter in the storm for me and served as a warm place of refuge for friends stranded in the city, for friends whose homes, as had many in other parts of the city, had lost power.

See you along the Trail.

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Dismantling the Shire

The evening saw, not the Scouring of the Shire (written by Tolkien but not used by Jackson), but the Dismantling of the Shire. That word doesn’t really fit either. Let me write a bit about what happened and see if a fitting word emerges.

A few years back, more than I can remember at this point, Tricia and I purchased the Shire – a three-bedroom condominium in Jeffersontown – east of Louisville. It served us well and became a site of hospitality for co-workers, folks who worked on projects with me, family members, and even an Obama campaigner. Not counting family, I think twenty people stayed at least one night at the Shire. Some stayed a few more.

When I moved to New York, the time came to sell the Shire – no Sackville-Bagginses being present to take it off my hands. That has proven easier to say than to do. Over time,we have removed different items. Some given away; some thrown away; and some sold. Still no one appeared on the horizon to buy the Shire itself. But that may change soon. Or not.

In any event, with Tricia and I both in town (it does happen), we used our time to sort through the remaining items. When I leave on Friday, little will remain in terms of household goods. Some large pieces of furniture will remain. But we will have dismantled the Shire, for all intents and purpose.

An era slowly draws to a close.

See you along the Trail.

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Unfinished

In the St. James Presbyterian Church office,
under the gaze of the Rev. Dr. Lenton Gunn,
who had served on the Advisory Committee of the
Presbyterian Hunger Program at the same time I did,
a parallel of timing occurred to me:
in early October 2000, I moved to Louisville
and so had been there not yet a year
when on a crisp, bright, blue, beautiful New York day,
the attacks of September 11, 2001 took place,
in early October 2010, I moved to Manhattan
and so had been here not yet a year
when on a crisp, bright, blue, beautiful New York day,
the city, the country, the world
remembered the attacks for the tenth time.
What to make of this? I know not.
I note the parallel, but my understanding remains
unfinished.

11 September 2011
St. James Presbyterian Church
Shire on the Hudson 

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The Name

I am sure that everyone has been anxiously awaiting this news.

Following some valuable and valued input; following the testing and weighing of several possibilities; following deep thought and careful reflection, I have decided for a name for my new abode.

At times this seemed a difficult decision. One that might not ever be made.

But then, suddenly, things crystallized. It became clear that for all the good options, for all the creative possibilities, there is only one choice. As clarity snapped into focus, peace descended.

And now it can be revealed. The name, the only possible name for the new abode is:

The Shire

There is a practical reason that this is the only name. I have realized that it is the name I am going to call where I live. Whatever other name I might try to apply to the place, I will call it the Shire. I have already found myself doing that. Why fight it? It is what is.

But there is another deeper reason – as I have worked through the naming process and reached this conclusion, I have realized that the Shire may be a place, but it is also a way of being – an attitude – an understanding – an ethos – a vision and practice of living. In affirmation of that reality, I proclaim my new place:

The Shire

While there remain two primary abodes for the Shire (Louisville and Manhattan), I will try to distinguish between them in writings to help people know where I am. Of course my practical side immediately tells me that I will not succeed at that. So be it. That is part of the reality of being a resident of:

The Shire.

In usage, there will be the Shire West (Louisville) and the Shire on the Hudson (Manhattan).

See you  along the Trail.

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