Being Queen of my Castle has good points, and bad points.
Good: I can do anything I want to and at any hour. Just the other night I practiced fiddle music at midnight, to the complete and utter joy of Bucky the parrot, who goes through wild birdie gyrations and yells, whistles, sings, and hollers in different timbres: Wow. WOW. WOW!!
Bad: If I want to eat something, I have to cook it AND wash all the dishes. There is neither the room or the plumbing for a dishwasher.
Good: No one in my house cares if the dogs are the "prewash" cycle.
Bad: If the dogs (OLE) decide that the taco bell wrappers are priceless treasures that must be unearthed time and again from the trash, I'm the one who has to put the garbage back, clean up, and take the garbage out. By which I mean bagging, (gagging), and taking the whole shebang to the dump.
Good: I never have to wait for the bathroom!
Bad: You know those new moisturizing lotions that also impart a "healthy glow?" I'd love to use those since most of the year I'm toad-belly white. In all the commercials they show a woman alone putting on this lotion, but they never show how she puts it on her back! It's impossible! And if you don't put it on evenly you look diseased. So teaching Sofie to put it on my back is out.
Good: I don't have to pick up and clean up around the house unless I want to.
Bad: I don't have to pick up and clean up around the house unless I want to.
Good: I can eat whatever I want to. This is the best part of being a grown-up. If I want to have ice cream for dinner, I can!
Bad: About 30 extra lbs.
Good: I can plant and arrange my yard any way I want to.
Bad: I have to hire guys with muscles and tools to get some house/yard things done. Like cutting down trees. And going up on the roof to close off the dead stovepipe so it doesn't rain in my house. I found out about that after it DID rain in my house. I *could* go up there, but I advised myself against it.
Good: I don't have to listen to snoring, clean the bathroom/toilet WALLS (seriously, why don't they just freaking sit DOWN?), have dinner ready, smell stinky farts, have someone say, "I told you so," or "You're just over-reacting again," or being asked, "Are you on the rag?" anymore at all. Which is good, because them's fightin' words.
Bad: I still need help with heavy stuff. Or let me say, I can do pretty much anything, but it takes a lot longer than if some person with muscles was available. When I say a lot longer, I mean moving a dresser, for instance, might take a guy 5 minutes. It might take me half an hour or longer. You ever done this? Scrooch the Big Thing about three inches. Pant. Scrooch it a little more. Breathe. Push on the other side three more inches. Shake out your arms. Turn around, put your back into it, push with your legs, and it goes about five whole inches. Pant. Repeat.
Good: Peace and quiet!
Good: I don't have to share my computer. And if there was a mate in my life, he or she would have to get their own computer. It's not happening any more than I'd share my violin. Not gonna happen!
Bad: You know when you have a bump, or an itchy spot, and it's in a place where you just can't get a good look at it? If it is on my back, I can put on a tank top and have my neighbor take a look, but elsewhere? No way, José. And I'm not going to pay $200 to go to the doctor and say, "Hey, can you take a look at this thing on my ass?"
Good: I am in control of everything around my personal domain.
Bad: Ack! I have to find the title to the truck and the divorce papers and I have to write to the Department of Redundancy Department about this and that and my shoe size and the government and ACK!
Good: All in all, the good outweighs the bad. And that's very good because I don't think another person could fit in my teeny house, anyway! However, this place is eminently expandable, which is yet another good thing. So no limits!