We're getting there, weatherwise. The birds are starting to sing more, the snow is melting. Fortunately, and unfortunately.
Who would have guessed that the patch job done on E's roof last spring wouldn't be effective? Who could have foreseen that it would start leaking again this year? How could anyone have possibly been expected to anticipate such a thing?
The leak has evolved. He's more clever this year than last year. Then, he'd just drip drip drip dribble drip in the same place all the time. This year, he's learned to migrate. He spends some time over the fridge, then takes a break and, when he's feeling mischievous again, reappears over the toaster. Then later, in the middle of the kitchen counter. He's a very adventurous leak. No mere gravity follower, he. Charting his own course, seeking out new horizons. Where will he appear next? Who knows?
He's been known to put in a guest appearance next door, visiting N. (HepC), or even further afield, dropping in on M. (Crohn's disease), or H. (HepC). He has yet to show up at CL's place (chronic pain and neuritis).
Knowing what we know about the age and condition of the building, we've got some fairly solid concerns about the safety of the roof. It can't last forever under the weight of the water (see the pic in the slideshow to the right), and then what?
But we can't complain because people have nowhere else to go.
A lucky few get housing elsewhere. I say lucky, but that's the wrong word. There are waiting lists for better housing, rent controlled and therefore properly maintained. But the lists are long. Some people enter the lists at the bottom and work their way up over the course of a couple of years. Others, mostly abused women escaping with children, enter the lists at the top.
The folks at the Motel are mostly adults with no child custody. A majority have significant physical health issues, but are not in crisis. They're just hanging on and making do. So they don't move up the lists very quickly. I've heard people say they were at number 10 or number 7 on a list, but that was quite a while ago. Haven't heard much lately.
So, in order to get moved up the list, things have to get massively worse for you. You have to be assaulted by a partner, or suffer a monstrous, systemic breakdown in physical condition.
That happened to one couple recently. One of them went into the hospital for a pretty routine operation, but in the end, probably because of diabetes complications, spent months an hour's drive from home and returned having lost a hand and several toes.
The distance from home was a problem because it made visiting largely impossible for most friends who have no wheels and no money.
But, since then, they've been moved from the Motel into an apartment which is good. In the town next door, which is difficult.
People who move out of the Motel often find themselves lonely. Isolated. There is a community there, in spite of all the yuck, that doesn't exist in apartment buildings or suburbia. People support and look out for each other. When you move out, you lose touch with that. And it's lonely.
But this week, I saw a lovely thing. Lovey and her man moved out sometime ago and we hadn't seen her in a while. She's a beautiful person, warm and loving and loving to be loved. She's got one of those smiles that you remember and miss sometimes.
After several months of wondering what was happening in her life and not knowing how to get in touch, I saw her in the grocery store parking lot. I was on my way in and she was heading out. Surrounded by a group of friends, laughing and smiling. They belong to a group called "Helping Hands" who make gifts to share with community groups. One time the group made cupcakes for our Dinner, without our knowing L. was a member.
But what mattered is that she's not alone. Not isolated. She's got, if not necessarily friends, at least friendly people to go to the grocery store with. Which is wonderful.
r
Who would have guessed that the patch job done on E's roof last spring wouldn't be effective? Who could have foreseen that it would start leaking again this year? How could anyone have possibly been expected to anticipate such a thing?
The leak has evolved. He's more clever this year than last year. Then, he'd just drip drip drip dribble drip in the same place all the time. This year, he's learned to migrate. He spends some time over the fridge, then takes a break and, when he's feeling mischievous again, reappears over the toaster. Then later, in the middle of the kitchen counter. He's a very adventurous leak. No mere gravity follower, he. Charting his own course, seeking out new horizons. Where will he appear next? Who knows?
He's been known to put in a guest appearance next door, visiting N. (HepC), or even further afield, dropping in on M. (Crohn's disease), or H. (HepC). He has yet to show up at CL's place (chronic pain and neuritis).
Knowing what we know about the age and condition of the building, we've got some fairly solid concerns about the safety of the roof. It can't last forever under the weight of the water (see the pic in the slideshow to the right), and then what?
But we can't complain because people have nowhere else to go.
A lucky few get housing elsewhere. I say lucky, but that's the wrong word. There are waiting lists for better housing, rent controlled and therefore properly maintained. But the lists are long. Some people enter the lists at the bottom and work their way up over the course of a couple of years. Others, mostly abused women escaping with children, enter the lists at the top.
The folks at the Motel are mostly adults with no child custody. A majority have significant physical health issues, but are not in crisis. They're just hanging on and making do. So they don't move up the lists very quickly. I've heard people say they were at number 10 or number 7 on a list, but that was quite a while ago. Haven't heard much lately.
So, in order to get moved up the list, things have to get massively worse for you. You have to be assaulted by a partner, or suffer a monstrous, systemic breakdown in physical condition.
That happened to one couple recently. One of them went into the hospital for a pretty routine operation, but in the end, probably because of diabetes complications, spent months an hour's drive from home and returned having lost a hand and several toes.
The distance from home was a problem because it made visiting largely impossible for most friends who have no wheels and no money.
But, since then, they've been moved from the Motel into an apartment which is good. In the town next door, which is difficult.
People who move out of the Motel often find themselves lonely. Isolated. There is a community there, in spite of all the yuck, that doesn't exist in apartment buildings or suburbia. People support and look out for each other. When you move out, you lose touch with that. And it's lonely.
But this week, I saw a lovely thing. Lovey and her man moved out sometime ago and we hadn't seen her in a while. She's a beautiful person, warm and loving and loving to be loved. She's got one of those smiles that you remember and miss sometimes.
After several months of wondering what was happening in her life and not knowing how to get in touch, I saw her in the grocery store parking lot. I was on my way in and she was heading out. Surrounded by a group of friends, laughing and smiling. They belong to a group called "Helping Hands" who make gifts to share with community groups. One time the group made cupcakes for our Dinner, without our knowing L. was a member.
But what mattered is that she's not alone. Not isolated. She's got, if not necessarily friends, at least friendly people to go to the grocery store with. Which is wonderful.
r
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