Where's MY Andrea?

I can't stand this torture:  every morning discovering there's no place for BC and me.  Out of curiosity I checked rentals in Indiana - beautiful homes renting for as low as $700 (I happen to like southern Indiana, from my travels).  But around here?  Not much short of $12-1700 except for dumps, and I think I deserve better than that (take a quick peek if you're interested. If you do see something affordable, chances are there's No Pets Allowed).

I'm a good person, or try to be.  I follow the rules, for the most part.  I share information and encouragement.  I help other old ladies find lost cars in parking lots.  One early morning near the Reno airport I invited a homeless woman for breakfast in Denny's.  The staff looked at her sideways but never said a word as she neatly piled her belongings under the coat rack. I wish you could have seen the transformation of 'Betty' once she cleaned herself up in the ladies room.  She tried her best, and succeeded in, conversing with people in a 'normal' setting.  She didn't spend time on her own woes and had the most upbeat attitude, at least for the moment. I hated depositing her back on her corner.

Here's a story I haven't told before, I don't think.  While I was the Camp Host from Hell at a State Park a couple years back, I became friendly with a 30-ish man.  'John' was a veteran receiving G.I. benefits, and whose choice of curriculum pointed him towards a college in Ashland.  He was from the mid-west and had no idea the difficulty he'd have finding a place to live around here.

John and his dog were traveling from campground to campground, pitching a tent for the 2 week limits with 2 weeks in-between returning.  Some of the campgrounds were up in the mountains, without phone or internet reception for his search.  He was in a Catch-22, for he could receive more government assistance if only he could provide an address; and he could afford a place if only he received his duly-earned assistance.  John's dog prevented him from renting many places, like BC.

So one day John stops by, totally dejected because he was coming close to his last day in our campground, the closest one to Ashland, and classes would be starting soon.  He knew he'd have to head back up into the hills and just didn't have the energy to keep trying much longer, like I feel now.

"Have you gone to the VA place in White City?  You can't be the only veteran with a dog; maybe they let Vets pitch tents on their grounds, or else they can direct you to the right place to go."

But John didn't hold out much hope.  After he left, I suddenly remembered a friend's husband volunteered at the VA, and called Tom to see if he had any advice.

"Sure, tell him to go to the gate, ask for Ms. So-and-So in Building Such-and-Such, and she should be able to help him."  I walked to John's site and passed along the information.

Two days later John stops, jumps out and bolts up the steps, crying,

"I know you're not a hugger but I just have to," and gave me a good old bear-hug.  "I went to the VA; they gave me a private room with a shared bathroom, and all I need is a crate for the dog when I'm away."

What about the address?

"I can use their address, plus they gave me information on even more benefits I'm entitled to.  I can't thank you enough."

I count that episode as the ONE reason I was meant to be a Camp Host at that point in time.  So Whiner-baby wants to know, Where's MY Andrea?  Too many people think all you need do is throw money at a problem, but would a hundred bucks have solved John's situation or taken Betty off the streets?  I didn't give them much but I think I gave them plenty.

"Just because you haven't received a YES doesn't mean you've gotten a NO" is taped above the sink for encouragement.  I'm looking at buying, renting, bartering, but at every turn it's a No, just not possible FOR YOU.  And if I do find something possible, it's earmarked for last year's fire victims, rightly so.

I hoped I'd be out of my RV by winter, but already I'm back to my morning ritual of wiping the condensation from all my windows.  I should be better at maintaining my home but at the moment I really don't care. BC's the only thing that's keeping me grounded, bless her.  We're handling her diabetes alright, but she's got a little problem which needs fixing at the Vet's later today.

Priorities.

P.S.  While editing this post, I requested and received a positive response from the Housing Lady for a 60-day extension with updated rates.  At least I think it was positive - she wrote it would come in the mail, and she was so polite.  Amy's screaming, "Look out!  Don't make that mistake again, trusting in people's inherent goodness. That's what you ALWAYS fall for!"  I'll let you know.

Next up:  Look what I found...