Caught up

Fourth day of posting in a row to catch up, then back on my weekly schedule.

Finally got to the beach on our 11th day living here. It’s 2 miles north of my home and I think it’s the closest beach the public can access. You have to just pull onto the side of the road; only a few cars can actually park clear off the street.

Maybe Bonham Trail that you hike down (a short, easy way) to the beach is my favorite part. It’s a magical fairyland. I wish I could share the pics from my phone of it. Later.

People love to bring their dogs to this rock-wall-enclosed cove. For me, the best part of the small beach are the exciting waves splashing against rocks at the edges.

A couple of large homes look down from one side. Always sad to me, that private ownership dictates our spaces. I guess we’re supposed to be grateful that access has been made. I wonder how close to town public access was a few decades ago.

Today we filled the second dumpster with the rest of the stuff from the previous owner. A sad moment was the discovery of a desiccated raccoon that had gotten stuck under the shed and tried to chew its way out. Lots of raccoons make their homes in, under and around these tin buckets (mobile homes). People have mentioned a home in this park taken over by raccoons and torn up. I never saw it; they auctioned it off. So someone else is doing lots of repair work like I am (with lots more ahead of me). But no more shed so no more trapped critters. I have to try to secure the underpinnings of the house itself.

A fun surprise was finding this old acacia tree in a back corner of the yard behind some ugly, patched-together “fencing” – more like a wood scrap barrier. But I soon found out my back-to-back neighbor thinks the tree is being removed because she’s allergic. The acacia has ancient meaning, woven into Greek myths. My father and sister suffered hay fever the little bright blooms, too. But I feel sad that i can’t enjoy the gorgeous brilliant yellow balls in season. Life is full of dichotomies and conflicts that can make the heart ache.

You may have a singular picture of the occupants of mobile home parks but I’m finding diversity in mine: a gay couple across the street, a biker mama with a mean Rottweiler back-to-back with me, a Latina mother and daughter next door with many friends and business associates coming and going. Moving into a new place, one wonders who we’ll grow close to? Who will feel they can be called upon in an emergency? So far, the management has been wonderfully helpful and so have many neighbors – though I’m certainly the talk of the block with my dumpster loads and trash heap out front (and other charms of this home in transition).

Getting online on the eighth day, I’ve finally been able to Zoom and that’s been special! Tying my old life to the new, keeping those connections, is warming.



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