Monday, November 29, 2021

Dead Raccoons and Crackheads

                    "Hello I'd like to look at the apartment you had listOH HOLY FUCKBALLS NO." 
 

 Looking for apartments.  

Found one, it was the size of a closet.  Lovely neighborhood, brand spankin' new, lovely neighbors, and tighter than a nuns' ass.  I have never seen such a tiny  little place, and I've lived in studio apartments, kids.  What the actual fuck.

Looked at another apartment. -nay, a duplex!  Just about perfect!  Beautiful rural setting, a view of the mountains, on high ground, all the space we'd need plus a yard to turn into a magnificent garden...aaaaaand the manager is a huge douchebag.  Big man here. Got important shit to do.  Not time to chat! Yeah yeah yeah yeah my wife handles that shit I AM DOING IMPORTANT THINGS PEASANT!

Whew!  OK then!

On to Crack Country.  Average apartment, average building, rent controlled, but crackheads.

Then to the Wood Hood!  Yes, once a former coal mine, now a large flat place riddled with underground tunnels, where all the streets are named after trees and all the people are sketch as fuck.  But it is a nice building, and hell, it's in a neighborhood...near all the stores and services...

And in the middle of all this, I travelled nine miles and then waited two hours to speak to a Red Cross representative only to have our case get lost in the system.  Waited some more, sitting in the shelter, smelling the distinct aroma of human feces, amid the Covid cases and a lot of really pissed off people, only to get a phone interview - that could have been conducted anywhere - and  end up re-start a new case with a new case number...only to have the system lock up and be told that 'You'll be hearing from us.'  At least I got a can of tomato juice out of the venture.

I also met a couple of grizzled old rips like me there who lost everything in the Sumas flood.  It was kind of nice to meet old neighbors and be able to commiserate with people who 'get it'. 

 Both women had to be rescued by fishing boat AND by tractor bucket.  One almost drowned when the shelter she was staying in flooded and a floor caved in, and the other has been moved three times already to different shelters.  So there's the 'it could have been worse' factor too. 

As I was out and about I nearly drove in to Sumas to take a look at the old place, but I just couldn't. It's odd.  I just never want to see it again.  

I'll have to of course.  There's things to clean and pack, and roses to dig up and distribute.

The thing that gets to me is all the people out there living in their little houses, just like mine, happy about Christmas on the way, warm and dry, probably worried about their mortgages and car payments.  I desperately want one of those little houses.  It doesn't matter where.  I'll make it a home.  I'll stand on the roof and fend off the crackheads.  It doesn't matter.  I just want a little house again. My own, all paid for, simple and cozy.

Yeah, the loss is starting to hit home.

5 comments:

Mistress Maddie said...

Oh no...my comment disappeared again.

Mistress Maddie said...

ANYWAY! Damn it, I was saying....go and get what you want! I have been an apartment dweller for 22 years and love my place. I have it just the way I like it and if something goes awry, my landlord gets in there and fixes it right quick with no worries for me. And reasonable rent...all without me having to blow him!!! A win , win.

Just a shame you have to go through this now. I hope you can salvage some items form your home.

Steve. Because 'Steve' is almost as nice a name as 'Paul'. said...

Mistress Maddie: YOU INCREDIBLE HUMAN PERSON!!!! Dig if you will this picture: We just found EXACTLY WHAT YOU WISHED WE WOULD FIND! It just happened yesterday! Holy shit, does Inexplicable DeVice know about the powers you wield?

We were able to salvage just about everything, as it turns out. No worries on that score. We'll have to get new soft furnishings and some comforters and pillows, but thanks to the army of volunteers, our appliances were ALL SAVED! I lost, like, a waffle maker and a rice cooker ffs. Well, my mind is made up. You are MAGIC!!!!

Bohemian said...

Glad I read the most recent Post first... crisis take time to Hit Home, and grieve what has been Lost, which is a Process you'll find yourself moving thru. I still drive by my Historic Home I had to Sell in order to get our Grandkids Adopted 15 Years later even tho' they'd lived there since Birth, but Adoption Boards said it was "unsuitable" for them to live in any more now they were forcibly up for Adoption by the State. Fast forward, two more Homes and big Mortgages later... but we endured and yes, I'll always miss my Paid Off Historic Home which should have been Forever and where we rode out Retirement... but, you can make a Home anywhere so long as who you Love is in it my Friend. Virtual Hugs.

Steve. Because 'Steve' is almost as nice a name as 'Paul'. said...

Bohemian: Boy, you have been on some JOURNEYS. What a shame about your home. I too had a historic home. How historic is now well and truly evident in the things that have been revealed by the flood. On the one hand, underneath all the layers of flooring (we counted five, plus carpeting makes six in some places) beautiful, straight grained old growth fir hardwood flooring, now all cupped and warped, sadly. But the walls have pulled apart and the different eras of non-code, shoddy additions are laid bare, which is like a message from the great Beyond saying 'GTFO already, doofus!'