Cohousing-L Mailing List: Re: Why I like Cohousing

[Kay Argyle (kay.argyle]

I've also been asked why I stay, since I get so very frustrated when things
don't work well.  (One reason I get frustrated is that I have higher
expectations of cohousing than of the rest of the world.)

Most of the benefits aren't "unique" to cohousing - but in cohousing you
have gathered a critical mass of people interested in making them happen.  

Some things happen not so much because of the cohousing structure but
because people's interests tend to cluster.  The personal traits and values
that draw people to cohousing tend to produce other shared interests. 

Why I stick it out through the days when I'm wondering what was I _thinking_
when I moved here ...

A neighbor says, I got some strawberries, come have strawberry lemonade.  We
bring over soup, and have an impromptu potluck on her back porch.

When our usual catsitter will be out of town the same weekend we are,
someone else volunteers.

When it's time to divide my rhubarb or my bulgarian alliums, I have a
waiting list of people who want starts.

Even after ten years, being the most conservative person in a discussion of
politics or social issues is still a refreshing novelty. 

If I have a question about bike repair, socialist economics, feng shui,
swamp coolers, scrapbooking, microbial genetics, online auctioning, oil
painting, welding, grant writing for nonprofits, folk dancing, violin
repair, labor relations, ESL, or postal regulations, I know who to ask.

It's flattering, if occasionally alarming, to discover that _I'm_ seen as
the resident expert on some subject.

When the funky scratch-and-dent grocery and oddlot store nearby gets
something really interesting, I hear about it before they run out.

Someone who has heard me play the violin nonetheless asks me to come play
with them.

If someone needs a 9-volt battery to shut up a chirping smoke alarm late at
night, they can borrow one from me instead of running out to the store.

Riding a bike to work or never watching TV is ordinary.

When someone schedules a plumber, they email to find out if other people
need plumbing work and would like to coordinate a visit.

There's someone besides me that my roommate can ask if she wants company on
a trip to buy hay, help dragging a 200-lb 20-ft ladder while she changes the
lights in the parking lot, or someone to go alpine skiing with.

A neighbor checks which Starbucks we regularly stop at for used coffee
grounds for our garden, so she can go to a different one instead of poaching
on ours.

When people say, 'How are you,' some of them are actually interested in the
answer.

When we take a whitewater class, one neighbor offers the loan of a drybag
and another a paddle jacket. When we get home, someone has a lead on a cheap
used kayak trailer, and would we be interested in going halves?

The weekend before election day, someone schedules a get-together to go over
the booklet from League of Women Voters.

If I want to find out what riding a recumbent is like, I toodle up and down
the drive on a neighbor's instead of making the 50-mile drive to a specialty
bike store.

Rescuing a broken tomato cage from the dumpster to cut apart into drip
system pins is seen as being environmentally conscious, not cheap.

I may be the last to hear what's going on in the neighborhood, but that
means three days later instead of three months.

A neighbor says that of course we're welcome to piggyback on their wireless
network.

I can loan a book to someone and actually expect to get it back. 

Kay