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Carey's avatar

So sad.

So true.

So many.

So blue.

Years ago I came up with an idea for communities where friends in their 60s and 70s could have tiny houses on a “cul-de-farm” that would have a main gathering hall for cooking and eating and socializing, a nice outdoor play area for basketball and tennis (now it would have to have pickle ball) and a community farm.

While we were finishing our careers we could rent out the 10 or so houses for artists’ or writers’ retreats and then when we needed to downsize and move in, we could, having earned income off of the homes for a few years prior.

Then we could “walk each other home” for however long we were around. As one or two friends traveled we could let our families come and stay in their tiny houses for a bit, if need be.

It was a thought of a way to build community and not do that thing of dying alone or showing up on your kids’ doorstep. It seemed like a great plan for a dignified way of riding off into the sunset.

Haven’t made it happen yet. I think the good place to do it, now, with global harming, would be in MA. Gotta be near good docs. And the arts.

And a Trader Joe’s.

Who’s in?

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Paula Simmons's avatar

Some of the comments about women from men on this post are disturbing. I already blocked a few.

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