Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Sunday, May 23, 2004

Up early again

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I mean, it would've been nice to sleep in, but I guess I'm sleeping enough: six hours/night.

When my body wants to wake up, it just does. Can't reason with it: it's Sunday; there's nothing good on the radio; I have to cook today; I don't have to hurry to collect duck eggs this morning, cuz nobody's there on weekends; blah, blah.

So, I'm up.

I'm going to try to keep it simple, today, if I can. I've been so busy this week, I didn't even have time to wash out one of FNB's soup pots that had rice in it. I used up the rice, but it's been sitting there, with rice starch in it, for a week. I don't have space in the sink to soak it for washing, and scrubbing sounds horrible.

Guess I could take the dirty pot to FNB and wash it there? Sigh...

I have to remember: I have forks to take. A couple of weeks ago, I had to eat soup with a knife. THAT's fun!

I hope plenty of people come, and that we have plenty of food.

I'd like to leave early today. Cooking, serving AND washing up are just too much!

I have GOT to work on my poor ol' house!

I put a length of old grape stake fencing across the "driveway" to the "empty" lot. Rowen has this dyke friend who obviously can't drive worth beans. Her truck is all banged up: bumpers, fenders, which indicate SHE hits things. She parks funny in the lot, knocking over my plants, breaking flower bed borders, blocking the whole drive, so I can't get my scooter out, or even walk. She leaves the back end sticking into the alley, making it hard for cars to pass by. Sometimes, the people in them give me dirty looks, thinking I'm the one doing the bad parking. Plus, she screams. Scares the snot out of me.

And Rowen's back to letting those vicious dogs out without leashes again.

So, I strung that rickety fencing up.

Nicole, my neighbor who is actually the only person authorized to use that driveway, is in New York right now. She locked her gate from the inside, so will be unpacking from the front, not back here.

I'd have preferred to wait, 'til she got home, do discuss this with her.

But Rowen's little tribe is invading again, and I have to stop them before they ruin my garden. Or her dogs kill my cats.

Eventually, I'd like to fashion the fencing in such away that it serves as a more substantial gate. It's held up on one end by a bungie cord, so it can be opened and closed.

THe wind, in that alley, gets pretty substantial at times, so I'd like it more secure, or it'll get the hell knocked out of it. It's pretty "floppy" right now.

But it was sure nice to let Porkchop off his long, outdoor leash yesterday. He liked it, too: no tangling, no dragging debris, total mobility in the "empty" lot, easy access to the house when he gets tired.

I'd never leave him out there, alone: he'd charge at passers by and knock down that fence, easily. BUt it's nice to let him be "free," while I'm out there, working.

While the city repaved the roads, Rowen and her friends parked 3 cars back here, without permission. They blocked Nicole's gate, so she couldn't park her own car there. Nicole wouldn't have minded, but they didn't even ask first. And, of course, Rowan left her old jalopy sitting there, weeks after the road paving was done. I couldn't weed or rake out the mulch pile. I couldn't walk around it easily and Porkchop was always getting his long lead stuck on tires.

So, my garden's more secure from Rowen's little clan, from drunks who want to sleep it off here, from marauding dogs...mostly Rowen's. And it's more secure from wind-blown trash, a constant struggle.

I like early mornings: it's quiet. No screaming, music, loud traffic, sirens.... I can hear the wind in the trees. I can hear the birds, when they wake up. I can even hear the cats, walking under my window.

THe first, pale light of sunrise is coming through the branches of the elm on the far side of my yard. Off in the distance, I hear a robin chirping its morning call. I hear cars passing on Interstate 25, about eight blocks from here.

It's a nice time to be alone. Everything's anticipatory and the day's full of potential.

Soon, I'll put on my cooking clothes for the day. Porky and I will cruise the duck pond. We'll come back and I'll collect stuff for FOod Not Bombs, have a last cup of coffee, and slowly pick my way through debris-strewn streets on my scooter to go cook.

I'm very careful with that scooter, for obvious reasons. I even avoid larger cracks in pavement, to cause less shock to fragile tires.

I can make out the shapes of things right outside my window, under the sun shade I built there, now. It's still pretty dark and I don't hear the local birds yet.

Soon, though.

The scooter & trailer are looking good; should be a more pleasant ride. And Porky should be happier about getting in the dog carrier, once we get to the pond, since the door swings freely now and he doesn't have to squeeze his shoulders and big butt through...

He's a good dog, putting up with me.

'course, I'm a good dog owner, putting up with HIM!


No comments: