I am trying so hard not to cry or play Whiner-Baby, but I have said in the past that I would document my experiences of being semi-homeless, so here's what just happened.
Classical music accompanied me painting myself a pair of snowmen earrings, for I'm about to begin volunteering for the Rogue Valley Symphony and I thought they'd be festive. BC and I are relatively warm following last night's frigid weather, and there's food in the house and propane in the tank. Then up pulls a vehicle with a Jackson County sticker on the door.
No, no, please, not again, I begged. Three or four years ago I was forced to move when the County decided to enforce long-ignored ordinances about the length of time you could live in an RV on private property. I had 30 days to find another place to live or the property owner would be charged $500 for each month I remained. It was this same time of year, which made Christmas a bit stressful, since I've already written about how difficult it is to find long-term parking for older RV's like mine. Jesus, no, here we go again???
I couldn't hide; my RV's right in the driveway, with a little striped awning and a pet fence for BC. Nothing to do but get a grip on my nerves, and after they left I went outside. Seth said,
"They were asking about the number of out-buildings on the property, but I don't know about the RV."
"Did they say anything specifically about it?"
"No, but we'll find out when they send a letter. At least they were friendly."
"Yeah, if they're dropping the axe they did it in a nice way."
Why do they have to pick the middle of winter? I'm still number 2866 on the Section 8 Housing List. I can't even park at Walmart anymore. So ask me which issue facing our nation is most important to me?
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