After more than three years, I'm now not "homeless". I'm renting a right nice little place located well in a good area, conveniently handy to many businesses/services of value. And I have a good vehicle. And, as of just the other day, as fine a laptop and camera (or better, really) than I did when the whole jam started.
Whew! Imagine my relief!
As is so often the case, this was a direct result of some very few personal friends manifestly helping me, both with stunning generosities and caring assistance and to enable me to do further on my own to make real progress. Even remarkably and extensively so. My major benefactors have been persons that became friends with me while I was homeless, too. That seriously surprised me. In a very real and practical way, they "saved my life" in real measure... the life as I'd previously had it going on, including roughly half of all my former belongings. The crucial half.
Just earlier today, I acquired a very good futon mattress. It was out at a curb in the neighborhood, wrapped in its original plastic bag and looks just like "new." It happens to be the exact right size to fit the great, imported hardwood futon frame (convertible to a couch) that I found at a different curb location in the 'hood a few weeks ago. Many other such "household" items, wardrobe, etc. have similarly been acquired through foraging, scavangeering, and "creative" means.
Now I ponder and contend with "after effects" of those hard, precarious, homeless years. It's not insignificant, nor always easy, as it turns out. I may be writing/reporting about this more, although I've become pretty sure my "readership" is tiny. Perhaps "posterity" can somehow benefit from such a tale, among them all.
