It’s a funny thing to encounter the different reactions people emit when I try and explain what living in cohousing is like. At times it feels like summer camp, with people out and about, going about their co-housy business. At other times, it feels like a cozy village – each unit its own colour, glowing its lights through the cracks of the curtains as I walk down the darkened atrium. Sometimes it’s quiet and peaceful, with few people around, and other times it’s alive and jumping with children, seniors, singles, teenagers, and couples coming and going, chatting, buzzing and laughing.
We have a term here that is used with great affection – being “windsonged”. This is what happens when you have all good intentions of simply going to the common house to check your mailbox, or taking the garbage out, or returning a dish to the common kitchen, and you encounter a neighbour, or maybe a few, and catch yourself in conversation, taking an hour to do that simple task rather than the quick 3 minutes you expected.
Many a time I’ve been chatting away, still holding my mailbox keys in hand, when my phone buzzes and there’s a confused text from my husband, “Where did you go???”
“I’ve been windsonged.” I reply. “Send help.”