H is for Homeless : An experiment in social consciousness

[DBP]

 

Sunday

2-12-12

I ventured to the fire last night for awhile. I won’t be doing it often, but somtetimes it’s nice to see familiar faces, hear stories, and catch up on the latest gossip. Lately when I return to camp, I head straight for my tent. I don’t want to put myself in a position where I can be . . . Also, bed rest was strongly encouraged.

I gave up my coffee to another camper. He shares well. He’ll share it with others. I have to find a coffee substitute, and I was given a list of things I can/should no longer have. Life goes on.

[REDACTED paragraphs]

I only wish to be left alone so I can focus on getting on my feet and moving on. I don’t really have a need to be anything to anyone. I am H________; it is who I am, who I will always be. I don’t need to be called “Mom,” “Grandma,” “Auntie,” “sister,” or “wife.” H_______ is enough for me, for now.

I am nothing to nobody, except my cats. It’s a little sad, but it’s reality, and as such, I am ok with it. I at least prefer it to its alternatives. If I am fortunate enough to find, earn, and develop a good relationship with someone, then, over the years, maybe I’ll feel we’ve both earned the right to another title. Familial titles should mean something, not just be a whimsical emotion of one day, cancelled the next.

The Sunday meeting came & went. Nothing changed, really. [REDACTED sentences] It’s just too easy to get caught up in the nonsense that goes on. I need to keep focused. I have one, maybe two goals:

1) A job.

2) A home.

Keeping the cats safe is a given.

—H.

 

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Monday

2-13-12

Well, it’s Monday. Dismally so. As I mentioned previously, I went to Friday’s appointment. The Dr. (?) looked up my lab results for me. Today I have messages from the original MD’s office. I am now perplexed. Either my labs were normal, or they weren’t, depending on who you ask. The original UA,* which I was told was abnormal, and as such, was being sent to the lab, never got there, and would I do another? I have done two + a catheterization. All these cannot be lost. It is not possible. I can’t call back right now. I do have minutes, now. (They had suspiciously gone from $28.00 to $0.00 with no “Your balance is low, please top up now” message.) But now I have no charge. Once the above matters are settled, I need to change my # to a local one.

There is something that occurs to me when I stand back and look at the camp objectively. Not just the camp, but homeless people in general. And that is this: The levels of skills and talents are limitless. I sometimes wonder what would happen if we were somehow subsidized to revive an abandoned town or city. To populate it, and turn in into something better, nicer and more profitable than it is now. [A town] laying stagnant, the victim of looters and vandals, is nothing short of a tragedy.

Minds greater than my own would have to figure out the details, but isn’t that kinda sorta how Australia and the US first started out? It clearly isn’t for everyone; there are lots of people who choose homelessness, are fine with living in tent cities or shelters, and that’s another story. I’m thinking [for my plan] of people whose lives were way-layed either by the economy or other existing forces, and who are actively trying to get back on their feet. It would be a great opportunity to help rebuild this country while rebuilding our lives. There! Fewer homeless, already. And, as I know, we aren’t really welcome in most communities anyway, so it solves that socially awkward situation with little more than a wave goodbye. How great is that?

Tomorrow, I may go on a tangent about the myths and mistreatment of the homeless and the poor. I really don’t drink, save for special occasions, and then, never enough to get drunk. I really have never taken any drugs (other than pot), nor have I been a prostitute. I don’t have a hustle going. I vote, and yes, I did smoke pot once in a while in my early teens. I grew up in Berkeley during the 70’s and 80’s. I do hope it’s legalized, so it can be taxed & regulated for safety’s sake.

Every day, I feel like I have to explain to someone that my situation is related primarily to the economy: a layoff, a second layoff, a lack of family in a position to offer help, and that I am not a psych-ward escapee, and have no idea what crack looks like.

We don’t always get the best medical care, aren’t always treated the way “normal” people are treated, and we are frequently ignored or ridiculed. To say that I’d like that to change or stop is an understatement.

There are viable solutions out there. Is anyone listening?

—H.

 

*UA = Urinalysis

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[Jiggers]

Yaaaawn!

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Tuesday

Feb 14, 2012

Not much to add to that which I’ve written. I have to sort things out, yet again. It looks like I may still have some weeks of benefits left. Or not.

The problem is that I applied for, and have received, foodstamps based on the last letter stating that I’d exhausted my benefits. If I use the foodstamps, and then they apply my benefits, it’ll look like fraud. So I haven’t touched my foodstamps at all.

I still have to do my taxes, and I keep forgetting to print out my 1099-G.* I need to find my charitable donation slips — Goodwill got most of everything I owned, except for a rolltop desk (vintage, if not antique) and a mirror that once went atop a bureau (also vintage/antique). These my landlord — and I say it with gritted teeth — just happened to acquire, because I couldn’t sell them in time and because the thrift stores wanted $35 to pick them up.

A bicycle was locked up by the library; it got left behind.

I would love to create a “victim’s impact statement” for the jobless/homeless, where they could anonymously list their losses — tangible and otherwise — and have someone figure out in dollars and cents what our losses are.

—H.

* The 1099 series of forms is used by the IRS to report special income payments from the government that are not traditional wages and salary.

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Weds

2-15-12

I picked up some antibiotics that were ordered for me, and a cheap jacket from Goodwill to wear into town. My other jacket is black, and is always covered in what looks like ashes or ?? Between these stains and the burn-holes I look more disheveled than ever.

The feral/abandoned cat community here is growing. I’ve been told people who were barred abandoned their pets. [REDACTED sentence] I don’t know what to believe. I only see a growing population of stray cats.

Really, really exhausted. Really high TSH’s,* BP, and an infection on top makes for a tired girl. Not sure what else I’m looking forward to. I go back to both depts in a month — if I can. If the charity care is cancelled, I will have to cancel as well.

—H.

* Thyroid-stimulating Hormone

 

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Friday

2-17-12

A later start to the day than I planned. I’m at the library charging my phone and checking my emails. I tried to read up on the jobless benefits bill, and just couldn’t take it in. I’d read somewhere else that the 99’ers will be 73’ers.* Many already were. The decisions that affect our lives and our survival are based on skewed numbers.

I’m supposed to call someone, but I didn’t want to use the camp phone, and my phone is nearly dead. I did successfully change my number to a local one. I’ve decided that I really need to get my things out of my tent and into storage of some kind. I’d hate to lose anything to a bag-and-tag. Ditto my boys.

I checked Craigslist, hoping maybe someone had a bedbug-free storage area to rent. I’ll keep looking. Also, as it appears my time is short here, it would making moving much easier. I have my list of job searches I need to maintain as well. I need to be able to focus on this.

Right now, I’m really getting nowhere. I had to replace my cell phone. It died after I charged it. I tried the new cord — it shows the battery is fully charged, it just won’t turn on or otherwise function.

Normally, the Radio Shack people are nice, but not today. If it had been my only experience with this store, I’d never come back.

So now I have to charge the phone, activate it and . . . Oh my — I just looked out the library’s window: Water is literally pouring down it in sheets. And it is much later than I intended to be out, but unless I’m going back w/o the ability to call 911, I need to charge and activate this phone. It has thwarted all other plans for this day. And, now that I’m thinking about it — I think today was supposed to be a tent/camper hygiene check, where everyone’s tents are gone through and otherwise checked out.

C______ must be flipping. He used to throw up at people as his only defense — I can only imagine what I’m going “home” to.

—H.

* 99’ers > 73’ers refers to a change in the period of jobless benefits from 99 weeks to 73 weeks.

Apparently, “99’ers” refers to people on unemployment, so any earlier journal references to 99%-ers should be changed to remove the percent sign, which was added by the editor (DBP) incorrectly.

 

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Sat

2-18-12

I was pleased to come home to a vomit-free (to the best of my knowledge) tent, and 2 sleeping kitties. My phone is now activated, airtime’s added. (It costs $10.00 to change a phone #, but it needed to be done, and RadioShack requires you to buy airtime when you purchase a phone.)

I’m down to writing in pencil, until I can find a pen. I cannot believe the amount of rain this area gets. I think I’ve seen more rain in the 3-4 months I’ve been here than I’ve seen in my entire life. On the other hand, I see flowers blooming in February — something I haven’t seen since I was a little girl, growing up in California.

My mandated security starts in two hours. I’m hoping the weather improves a little bit. I signed up for 2 shifts on Monday, leaving 1 more for that week. I’m trying to consolidate hours, in order to free up my time a bit.

—H.

 

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Sunday

Feb 19, 2012

It’s another dreaded Sunday — Meeting day.

[REDACTED sentences]

I’ve signed up for 2 securities on Monday, and will do a final security later in the week. I have a couple of doctors appts that I have to go go to, so I have to be careful with scheduling. It takes a little over an hour one way, excluding transfers and waiting time. Then too, I have to try to remember how I got there the last time i.e., which bus will get me there the quickest.

There’s a lot of strategizing that actually goes into the day, so I stay compliant with camp regulations, while trying to get as much done as possible.

—H.

 

 

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Monday

Feb 20

It’s Presidents Day. I’m doing 2 back-to-back [security] shifts, to get them out of the way. The library, my lifeline to all things possible, is closed today. I may do laundry tonight, or early tomorrow.

I’m looking into getting a refurbished or otherwise used laptop so I don’t have to leave my guys as often, and I can job hunt more extensively. I have to think hard about this in terms of risks + benefits. Is it a splurge or an investment? Can I keep it safe and operational?

I learned later today that the cycle of life here had come full circle over the weekend. The brother of a camper I knew fairly well came to collect his brother’s belongings as his brother had passed away. I did not ask for details, and I’m not sure how such matters are handled. The matter was turned over to an office person, who I’m guessing will be able to further assist him.

[The man who passed away] was a pretty decent guy. A relatively gentle camper who loved animals and occasionally brought candy to the front desk. He had mentioned his brother to me a few times, so I’m pretty sure the man who visited is probably his brother, and that our fellow camper probably has died. Rest In Peace, ________.

Someone actually asked me if feeding and sheltering the homeless is a form of enabling, and whether we should be drug tested randomly. I would have to say “no” to both, although the second one I’d say “no” to because I think it violates people’s rights.

Food and shelter are basic human needs. Do some people who utilize OSL* get food stamps? —Yes. Should they utilize OSL if they get food stamps? —Maybe. Again, everyone has a different situation, including a differing ability to get into town to buy food. Do [some people] trade food stamps for drugs? —I don’t know. What I do know is summarized in the first sentence. People need to stay healthy to move forward.

Our living conditions are harsh, at best. People die. Some of the people who have substance abuse problems now may eventually turn their lives around and become contributing members of society. And vice versa. Life has no guarantees, but consider this: Whether you believe we’re all God’s children or we all come from the Goddess Garden, or that we are all connected by a common strand of DNA, we all exist; we aren’t going away. Due to a variety of social and economic factors, our numbers are growing. We could be your child, your grandchild, or another relative. Maybe we were once coworkers, somewhere, at some time. Or neighbors. We could be anyone. We can become anyone, theoretically.

So, I guess it’s sort of a “Donor Beware” thing. Understand that not everyone here is ready to make changes in their lives, and may never be. Others will, they just need time to “regroup.” Others are ready now, but lack resources, and are trying their best not to get dragged down further than they already are.

I’ve often wished for a tent city or something similar (a motel?) that could be geared toward job hunters, even if it was just being able to stay someplace clean and dry with your pets the night before (and day of) an interview, so we could clean and iron an outfit, and be interview-ready. For us boomers,** coloring our hair might be in order. Essentially, things you can’t really do well, or at all, under the current circumstances. It’s a little hard to put your best foot forward when it’s covered in mud or soot.

–H.

* Operation Sack Lunch, a program that delivers meals to local shelters, Nickelsville, and other homeless encampments.

http://www.opsacklunch.org/

** “Baby Boomers” —people born in the first generations following World War II.

 

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Tues

Feb 21

I think S____ is feeling his oats. Our walks are almost stealth missions, except he seems to know what he’s looking for, and I don’t. I just amble along with him. I suspect it’s got something to do either with the rats and mice or the feral cat population. (They are not feral. They were abandoned either voluntarily or not so much.)

I think animal control has kindness traps. Maybe we could borrow them. There may be a Mama kitty with babies somewhere nearby as well. I think I know where — S____ lovingly rubs his cheek on the side of an unused tent’s tether. Some of us put food down for it periodically (when we can).

My week is tied up with more doctors appointments. I did get a bill for $109, even though I get “charity care.” I’m not sure how that works, and I need to find out more before I make any more appointments. I do know I’m going to have to find a way to replace my glasses. I still have the reading glasses, but the glasses I need for actually seeing anything clearly beyond a foot or so away were gone [after] week 1 here.

I need glasses to get my D.L. transferred to Washington State. As it stands, “I get by.” What I can’t see clearly I can usually figure out, logically. Periodically I’ll mistake one camper for another based on size, shape, and body movements and gait, but I’d say I get by, overall. —But would I pass an eye exam? Never in a million years.

It would be nice to see details again.

C_______’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be either. He’s always had the most beautiful amber eyes, with a touch of turquois in there as he’s grown old. He’s always enjoyed putting his forehead on mine is his own “mind meld.” Now, periodically, I’ll awaken from a dead sleep to whiskers in my mouth. Understand: we have rats around us; this is a sensation worthy of a panic attack.

—H.

 

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Weds

2/22/12

An odd night for my boys. Both are restless. C_____ is off-tether all night, S____ not so much. C_____ is 18, doesn’t like to leave the tent, periodically has accidents (due to his fear of leaving the tent if there’s too much activity nearby), and has been disqualified from further vaccinations due to his ripe old age. Nevertheless, C_____ has his guilty pleasures. He doesn’t like to go for walks on a leash. He does, however, enjoy the forbidden fruit of taking himself for a quick stroll. 5-10 minutes later, he is back and under the blankets again.

Tonight is different. Tonight, S____ pulled his head out of his collar and C_____ indulged in his guilty pleasure. I heard squealing — like a mouse, not a cat — I exited the tent in my long shirt and long-johns faster than I ever thought physically possible (I may be barred for this), and collected S___, put his collar back on, and waited for C_____, who strolled back into the tent, perched on the luggage, and began cleaning his hands and face as though he just done something and now, work completed, he was cleaning himself up, a quite satisfied “My work is done,” feline guy.

I zipped us all in, checked everyone over for scratches, bites or cuts, and tried to get back to sleep — a restless, uncomfortable sleep.

Morning came with news of a dead rat being found. S___ is thought to have done the deed. Many are pleased. I’m not too thrilled with this knowledge. It’s kind of a mixed bag. If it’s true, then I know S___ has survival instincts. But I’d rather not have to find any of this out at all.

—H.

 

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Thursday

2/23/12

It’s a busy, waterless day today — and expensive. I had to get an alarm clock to replace the one that died yesterday. I’ve had it for 7 yrs — a Timex, battery-operated (1 AA) that finally gave its last tick.

I also needed cat food, as we’ve been sharing ours. If I’d been smart, I would’ve heeded the little voice suggesting I pick up water, just in case. I did not, however.

I ventured into uncharted (54 bus) territory in search of Petco. Instead, I found a fellow camper who patiently explained to me that I’d found PetPro, not Petco. “A little pricier.” They are. They are also really nice, and very helpful. I did get a pet cleaning product, and learned how to get to Target. I could not find my way back to the White Center, nor could I find a bus stop. I found parked buses, with drivers who told me where I should go. I complied, but I never found my way back to the White Center. Instead (after reassuring myself that the only 2 possible outcomes could be: (1) The White Center, or (2) Downtown — both of which are survivable options for me), I ended up downtown, then grabbed my normal bus back to the camp.

This morning, the camp was void of water. Any! In a hurry, I went to a nearby shop, grabbed a couple of bottles of water for my guys/myself, and a couple to share. I died when they rang it up. Expensive. A mental note to myself: Heed that nagging little “Better safe than sorry” voice that I find so irritatingly right 99.9% of the time.

I took the bus to the showers, got nice hot water 50%, then someone flushed a toilet a few times, and the remaining 50% of the shower was quite cold. No matter; I was clean and on my way to the library, where I can log and charge my mobile [phone] quickly, and then head to the doctor’s appointment.

The exam showed a few more concerns, and so, I had an EKG (?). So now we have a baseline, which is a good thing, I guess. Now I just want to get back to my guys.

–H.

 

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Friday

2/24

It was dark (after 6 PM) when I got back and (the usual) campers were running their mouths behind my tent. One was almost funny. “I have s________ [medical condition] and that’s why I always have to cough and spit here.”

—Yeah, ya do. But really, no, ya don’t.

The rest of the night went by in a similar vein. S___ slept on top of the covers, going in and out periodically. C______ never stirred, to my knowledge, until morning. Someone tugged hard on S___’s leash, because it jerked him, physically. But he went back to sleep, and I, half-asleep, did not have the presence of mind to zip us in.

This morning (it’s 7:30 AM now, so maybe ~5:50? I’m not sure), I heard S___ yelp, the way he does when he’s being picked up under protest. I dodged for the tent flap, found his leash wrapped around the [pallet supporting the tent], collar attached, but S___ was gone. I walked around the camp to see who was up. There were 2 campers at the fire, Security was at the desk, but no S___, not even after opening a package of Bologna.

During the night, a woman had said: “I thought you said H______ was getting a 24-hour bar!” I thought about this as I searched for S___. If he is not returned, healthy, and in one piece, I am writing my own blog and [REDACTED sentences]

* Less than 10 minutes later (maybe 5 even) after saying this out loud, an almost toasty warm S___ is back. I have put on, hopefully correctly, a harness. He still has his leash + collar on. The harness will need adjusting as he gets used to it, and then it will replace his collar.

The cycle of life here is now moving on with the addition of a newly born baby boy (human), born just a few days ago, and a few days late. The baby and his mother are doing well. Both are beautiful.

—H.

 

Editor’s note: Although H does not timestamp her journal entries, she often makes two or more entries in a given day. On this day, there were at least three separate entries, each one clearly denoted by a different color of ink.

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Sat.

2/25/12

Mother Nature is cruel, if the weather report is right. Snow and cold are forecasted. Non-accumulating, hopefully, but still, not a welcome thing right now. I think at least the human mother-son duo have a place to stay. I hope so. We are so close to March, and to spring itself, that snow is almost a cruel joke (although less muddy than rain.)

Someone asked me if all the sirens we heard last night stopped here. I don’t know. I hope not. I’ve not heard anything, but I also wasn’t listening too hard, either. I know there was a lot of coughing & spitting all through the night. I think someone was escorted back to their tent, after which it became quiet, til morning.

I received a letter from the [state name] Department of Employment and Economic Development — dated 2/5, mailed 2/21, my response due by 2/23 but received in Seattle 2/24 — stating I needed to fax my photo ID/DL from [state name] and my S.S. card to the DEED. My account is being locked locked pending verification of who I am. So, I complied. There’s a 2-hour time difference, so by the time I faxed it, their office was probably closed. Someone else warned me [that the letter] could be fraudulent, so I now need to change my information, somehow, and/or call them Monday — long distance — to verify this need for verification. Meanwhile, there is some fear as to how long my account will be locked. I didn’t ASK to leave [state name]. My departure was dictated, in part by lay-offs, in part by a landlord’s 45-day notice, which was handed to me after I [REDACTED sentences].

I lost everything, but I still have my 2 cats, who aren’t thrilled to be here, homeless, but are probably at least grateful not to be [back] there. I suppose I should be grateful for not having been able to transfer my [state name] DL to a Washington DL yet. Had I done so, I couldn’t have “verified” myself, rendering me, again, “screwed.”

—H.

 

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Sunday

2-26-12

Meeting day is here, again. It’s actually a good way to mark time. The weather, lately, is a mixed bag, but at least bearable. Bearable enough for the huge numbers of crows and seagulls that terrorize our mornings. First the crows, then the seagulls — it’s like something out of a Hitchcock movie. I’ve no idea where they come from, or where they go, but they herald in our mornings like a death rattle.

I need to organize my tent, again. I don’t accumulate things, but with my mobile, tethered cats roaming about, things get knocked around a bit. Plus, I still have a bag of recyclables I need to take out.

I finally found a litter that doesn’t turn to clay. It was on sale, is silica gel, I think, and is supposed to last 80 days. It probably won’t, but the cats are ok with it, and it works. Amazing Kitty Litter, or some such name.

I’m told we’ll be expecting some very cold nights. Today it snowed (sort of) while the sun shone brightly over the camp. S___ has to get a new harness, due to his girth, so he’s getting a reprieve from it. The harness was donated to the fluff-ball terrorist, who will grow into it, fairly quickly.

I will say this: Nobody will see as many cats walking on leashes as one sees here. Mine won’t go near the campfire, but other campers sit at the fire with their cats either on them or near them. Mine (S___, not C______) happily amble up and down the aisles, peering under pallets, in search of rats and mice. (Did I mention the snakes and spiders?) C______ rarely allows himself to be taken for a walk on a leash. He is old, he is cranky, and he will growl, howl, and spit at me. Walking himself is another (5-minute) story. He is back in about five or ten minutes, looking very pleased with himself. Where is he? —Peeking around the corner of a tent at us. It’s hysterical.

Then he ambles back.

Someone [REDACTED WORD] here, I was told. Hence the sirens and hoopla. I try not to get myself involved, much. Not because I don’t care or don’t worry. Three-ring circuses develop and aren’t just annoying, they are counter-productive. “Too many hands spoil the soup,” as my mother would say. The proper people are present, I would be in the way, as would the rest of “the circus.” Instead, I cross my fingers, hope for the best, try to find things to do in my tent, and keep to myself, chatting away to my feline tent-mates, in an attempt to create a “familiar” environment within this one — a sense of what we once had. A thread of normalcy in an abnormal environment. It is what we have. It’s all we have.

—H.

 

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Monday 2/27

I’ve got a security today, and couple tomorrow. Hopefully, it’ll be peaceful. It’s really cold.

I started working on the tent a bit, yesterday. Encountered episodes of kitty puking, cleaned some more, and today I’m putting back together that which I’d torn apart. I did get to air out my blankets a bit. My old jacket can no longer be repaired with duct tape. I hate the idea of throwing it out, but it’s not really something that can be re-purposed, at this point. My time is tied up until Weds, when I can leave camp, make my calls and appointments, and see where I am, and what I need to do from here.

My shift came and went peacefully. I talked with a newer camper who is having a hard time with the cold — especially doing night-time securities, where you sit and freeze.

—H.

 

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Tues.

2/28/12

I’m getting frustrated. C_____ gets frightened when people are around the tent. Too frightened to get to his box [which is] sometimes outside. It doesn’t happen often, and it’s not his fault, but the last thing I want to deal with is extra cleaning. Granted, he tries to be rather neat about his affairs, and he does tell me that he’s done something. I never have to figure it out. I clean it, apply odor remover. Mulling over how we can get a room somewhere. Or a studio or something.

One of my beloved campers informed me, after being in a tent for four years, he now has a studio downtown. A donor will supply him with a bit of cookware. I am excited for him. Four years is a long time. He’s been a good neighbor, and I will miss him.

I did my final securities amid strong wind gusts and pouring rain. I signed out, and literally had to peel wet clothing off of myself, stuffing my clothes into a plastic bag until laundry day.

It’s cold, tonight. My guys are content to stay in, snoozing under the blankets. S___ huddles closer when the wind rattles us, but a fairly uneventful night, otherwise.

—H.

 

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[Jiggers]

Someone here give that person a room already.

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Weds.

2/29/12

It’s a Leap Year, the final day of February, which means roughly 23 more days of winter. While we are fortunate enough to have had minimal snow days, and no tornadoes to speak of, the rain-wind storms that have been pummelling us have been rather impressive. One current directly compressed the top of my tent straight down. This is new. We are accustomed to being shaken and rattled. This will be the first time Mother Nature has tried to squash us.

S___ was torn between trusting my judgment, flying out the door, or flying under the covers. He chose the latter. It’s going to be a rough week for him, I’m afraid. He’s getting his shots updated. C_____, at age eighteen, is exempt now.

This should prove interesting. They’ve never been apart since S___ first came to us. I’m hoping C_____ sleeps through it, oblivious to our departure, and not fearing abandonment. By now, he should know death will be the only reason I’d abandon him, and even then, I’d still try to be there for him. We’ll see.

I saw our “OD-er”* back to pick up a few things. He looks great. A handsome young man, who could be headed anywhere. A gentle heart. As a crone, I can see where he is now and know that this is only one single moment in his life. There are potentially many, many more moments to come. Many have passed into oblivion, existing [only] to be learned from and to create “experience.” Where he is now is only temporary, even though it seems hopelessly permanent.

That is true for all of us, and is something I try to remind myself of, as I try to make my way through the day, some days being easier than others. I see the potential energy in my fellow campers, and I see how much of our confidence and self-esteem is eroded daily. We talk of “who we were” and “what we did.” Few of us speak of the future. We don’t dare dream that far ahead. Yet we’ve all been life-long taxpayers — paying into a system — with all the hopes and dreams everyone else has.

—H.

 

*Refers to a person who had suffered a drug overdose and was taken to the hospital. Material regarding the details of this had been redacted from earlier posts. —Ed.

 

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Thurs.

March 1

A word about panhandlers and sign carriers. They are not necessarily bums. Many are stepping up to the plate using the only avenue available to them at this point in time. One camper, confessing to me that he is a “sign holder,” said what he does is “a little degrading.” It took courage to do this; it took courage to tell me. These are people with nothing, who are doing what they can to get by. Are they stealing? No. Lying? No. Are they chasing anyone around with their signs or otherwise threatening anyone? No.

Food for thought: work = time + energy

Thus ends my lesson on panhandlers. Whatever your beliefs, respect them, they deserve it and they deserve better than that which they have, currently.

—H.

 

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Friday

March 2nd, 2012

A funny morning here. Cold, grey, gloomy, and eerily quiet. People seem awkward around one another.

One of the icons of my childhood* passed away, making me feel that much older. [Also] my heart is breaking for the two children whose fates were sealed over a gun that went off accidentally, but brought to school deliberately.**

12 states are enduring tornadoes as I write this.

I’ve lived in the Midwest. We could barely hear the tornado warning sirens, sometimes. Fortunately we were for the most part spared. The North [REDACTED City Name]Tornado missed us by a few blocks, hitting the other side of the park, instead.

We are oddly fortunate here, even living as homeless people. For the most part, we’ve all come to terms with our losses, as best we can. We are in a safer (again, for the most part) situation than our fellow Americans who are in for a few more days of violent weather. Nature’s version of “Shock + Awe.”

I wsa fortunate enough to have learned long ago that things are just things. Heirlooms and junk drawers can be be ripped from our lives in just seconds. What’s left? Do you really have nothing left? Well, no . . . and yes. —No, the tangibles are gone forever. The set of dishes passed down, mother-to-daughter, is now dust and rubble. What you have left are your memories, and the emotions that these memories conjur for you. These cannot be destroyed, stolen or otherwise degraded. That’s what you hold onto. That’s what will pull you through days like this.

–H.

 

* H. is probably referring to Davy Jones of the Monkees, who died on February 29, 2012.

** Refers to the Armin Jahr Elementary School shooting in Bremerton, Washington on February 22.

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Monday

March 5th

Another Monday. 2 of my neighbors are getting ready to go. They are 50+ years of age. Avid bicyclists, they are going at least to Texas, following their Christian faith. I, a Wiccan, a non-Christian, consider our friendship sort of our own political joke. But, many of our values are similar, if not our religions.

______ and I said our good-byes already, over a Subway sandwich. We will try to keep in touch. He wants to find a digital camera to take pictures of their journey.

I’m excited for them. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and they are “going for the adventure” and to meet other people. We will do our best to keep in touch.

I know they won’t miss the rats here, 2 of which —— killed in a trap.

—H.

 

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Tues.

March 6th

A flurry of activity revolving around my neighbors’ pending departure. I did some of my securities yesterday, but have another one left.

I had to stay overtime for my security. We had new intakes, and a new security who was put on the desk without training. Later, OSL was due, but no kitchen people were available, so I helped serve lunch. I’m really glad [my neighbors and I] already said our goodbyes, because I’m being severely side-tracked today. I’ve errands to run as well. —Eternity on the bus.

______ has, in his words, his needs met, if not his wants. He’s got a 1.5[mega]-pixel camera; his bike + trailer are looking sharp. His companion, ______, is babying his bicycle, which he put together. Both are talented, handy people, and it shows, in their preparation for departure.

______’s comment that his needs are met, if not his wants, is actually a reference to his life and faith, I think — but it applies here, as well. Ditto his companion, whose mission is to travel around, “spreading the word.” I wish them well.

I’ve made a mental note to pick up a hammer to fix my tent support. It looks like it’s pulled apart. So far, I’ve forgotten this twice. Hopefully, I’ll remember it tomorrow.

There’s a meeting tomorrow I want to attend. It’s supposed to be a report card on how well the [plan?] to end homelessness is working. I will bet the grades are low.

If ever we go to Orca Cards [REDACTED words] we will not be able to access the hygiene centers, the worksource centers, the food banks, or any other supposedly available resource meant to help us. If it’s possible to screw us further, this qualifies. We won’t be able to help ourselves up and out of homelessness. We almost can’t now.

Almost.

—H.

 

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Weds.

March 7th

The guys are almost ready — it’s their D-day. I can’t hang around, though. We hug each other and say our final good-byes.

Myself, I am planning to visit ________ tonight.

[REDACTED paragraphs.]

—H.

 

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Thurs.

March 8, 2012

It’s been a confusing day, filled with lab work, attempts at locating eye care and glasses, and getting things together for S____’s visit to the vet, either tomorrow or the next day. It’s time for his shots. C_____ is too old (and he scares the vets, I think).

The winter shelters will be closing, and the camps will be filling with people. If I’m to make a move it should be soon. It’s annoying to think in terms of moving to an “upscale” encampment. Some have electricity — access, TV tents, etc. Some get bus passes, and portable showers — all great for job hunters. But they move every 3 months, and there’s supposed to be a period of time you must live in a community tent before getting your own. This, with my cats, probably isn’t an option. Also, those with various medical problems may find a communal tent problematic, at best.

Going back to my original thoughts, previously written, I might be better off finding a clean, cheap place to store my belongings and then trying to get someplace “else.” I worry about my cats.

—H.

Note: At the bottom of this entry there were two smudges labeled “S____’s paw prints.”

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