Crazy

The city cut tree limbs this summer, if they were interfering with utility wires.

I hitched up my dog and cart, every morning while it was still cool. I wore heavy gloves.

I gathered all the logs. The city had cut them into 1-foot (or so) lengths, perfect for firewood.

As I walked along, pushing piles of logs, people laughed at me. One called me Paul Bunion. Another kicked over the cart, spilling logs into the street. They called me "crazy."

When I saved clear, vinyl shower curtains from other people's trash, a guy passing me on a bicycle called me, "crazy."

When the neighbors across the alley from me renovated their rental property, they put in new windows. I found broken windows in the alley. I asked their son if he'd store them carefully for me, so I could have them. He did it. But later, when someone tried to break into their house and I called to let them know, he called me "crazy."

When the landlord at the 2 story apartment building down the alley from me left a refrigerator, with the doors still on it, in the alley, I got my dolly and tools. I removed the doors and shelves. I dragged it onto my place. Two residents at that building called me "crazy."

When I found a feather bed stuffed into a trash barrel, I put it in my cart to bring home for washing. Two kids playing on the sidewalk called me "crazy."

Natural gas prices are going up this month by nearly 100%. I haven't heard when they'll go back down.

I now have a greenhouse for winter produce.

I now have enough firewood for bitter winter nights.

I now have sheet plastic, insulating my windows, but letting in light for my windowsill winter garden.

Now, I have a thick, feather cover for my winter bed.

They'll pay a fortune for heat and fresh produce this winter.

And I'm crazy?