Growing up in Marshfield, Massachusetts, my friends and I listened quite regularly to a popular song called, “Hotel California” by the Eagles. It’s a song about people tragically locked in an empty existence of pleasure, vice, and self-delusion in which the Eagles muse mockingly: “You can check out, but you can never leave.“

Not a very nice thing to sing to people, actually. But, this hotel is the opposite. It’s first of all affordable. I am not going to risk having a nervous breakdown trying to pay for it.

There’s artwork of all my favorite things: Oil paintings of marshes (like Marshfield where I grew up); the Natural Bridge, and, a pastoral scene of sheep which reminds me of home in Northfield.

There’s one of shiny apple’s like in my dining room at Mulberry Farm. Also, there’s a painting of ships by the sea; garden arches full of roses, and wrens which used to sing outside my door there.

If I tried to imagine a more beautiful home for myself, it would be tragic by comparison. The treasures I clung to of my past life look like crumbs leftover from some dull existence (not worth saving) in the face of this glorious feast!

It’s an historic building made of wood and stones, with ornate molding and high ceilings. (Unlike modern buildings with vinyl, plastic, and other cheap materials oozing toxins.)There’s enormous windows in every room; and, it’s on the north side of the building. In Virginia that means it stays cooler.

It’s built like a fortress. In a SHTF scenario which has been kind of haunting me, and am like a princess in a castle. The front door of my lovely fortress is on street level; so, no walking up and down stairs for me. But, because the building is built on a hill, my apartment is on the third story of the back side of the building . No peeping toms, or risk of intruders here!

There’s soft, comfy couches for Lyle and I to loller on. I have rarely had time for such a thing. Relaxing was not a thing at our house unless it was after working all day; then, you relaxed because you didn’t have energy to move. That is not exactly relaxing – it’s just not moving.

The interior of my apartment is professionally decorated with moss green, and mint colored walls. White molding and wainscotting; also, white rugs on beautiful wood floors. Luxurious towels, linens and venetian blinds (also made of real wood).

Drapes have ornate and colorful botanicals embroidery and the material shimmers like flower petals. There’s all kind of unusual shaped lighting fixtures with gold, ornate and cut glass, that create an array of interesting lighting effects.

There’s two queen beds. Lyle and I have plenty of room for sleeping!

I am exhausted just trying to list how well-planned and beautifully arrayed this place is. It’s plenty big. But, I won’t get tired taking care of it. And, I won’t be living in my car, like many tragic people who can’t afford housing.

I am possibly the most fortunate person in the world. And, unlike the Hotel California, I can come and go freely. I am no prisoner here!