The Bodkinz never lets you down

Ah yes. Life after the fire with an independent insurance adjuster doing nothing and a house sitting as if frozen in time, stinking of smoke and soot and despair and feeling abandoned.

When we were looking for a home with a yard, Josh was not quite two and Casey wasn't dreamed of, but he was there, a collection of cells in hiding. We pulled into the drive way of a small house with a huge yard and TREES real live full grown trees! We lived in a fairly new townhouse community then and the trees there were still in their toddler stages. This house we were looking at had TREES and lots of grass and a fence. The house was smaller than the town house but that didn't matter for the moment we pulled into the driveway we knew we were home.

There was a feeling, pulling from the hot, bright sunlight into the cool tree shadows of arms pulling you close and holding you safe. The house wasn't much, a small rancher, no dishwasher no air conditioning but it was home. We did little decorating over the years simply because we didn't think of it. Most of the walls were paneled and those that weren't never bothered us enough to paint. However with the bedroom that had once been the sons and decorated by them with shaped sponges dipped in paint (with my permission of course) I never would have painted. It was my craft room and I loved seeing those shapes and remembering when the sons were little and laughed all of the time.

No the house sits there and my heart breaks each time I see it. Not so much for the loss, for it is a substantial loss but for the house's crushed spirit. This house had always held so much whether it be love, or laughter or tears or people or pets or stuff. It was home for throwaway kids who would come and stay until it was time for them to move on. It was a place to get a meal when you were hungry, or a shoulder to cry on or whatever someone needed. Now it is so empty and lonely and the things that made it home sit in a dumpster in the driveway.

The dumpster.... I managed to save some craft stuff. Bits and pieces stinking of soot and smoke but too precious for me to throw away. With the information we were give by our so called friendly public adjusters I had no idea when I could replace any of that and crafting helps to keep me close to what passes for sanity with me. I didn't take everything over to the rental house with me, there were too many bins, hastily stuffed on that day when they cleaned out my craft room and brought some, but not all of the stuff out into the yard.These bins and the random containers were tucked under an awning that came off the house and then covered with a tarp and we were carrying the thing to the rental a bit at a time.

And then we discovered that someone had been in the dumpster taking whatever out of it. Ok, someone said, it's trash, so what. Wait. The tools in the shed weren't trash, they weren't even IN the house when it burned, nor were our beach chairs now stripped of plastic and cloth so the aluminum could be recycled. Then there was my lovely garden swing, half disassembled now. And the awning was missing and someone had been through the craft stuff, not bothering to put anything back, leaving lids off bins and things blowing in the wind.

I lost my mind. We who have so little, had someone picking at our bones and the GODDAMNED NEIGHBORS STOOD AND WATCHED AS THEY DID IT. Didn't think twice. Didn't call the police, didn't confront the thieves. NOTHING!

There is a house across the street where the Hag and her daughters live. I would need a to write a book to list all they have done to drag the entire neighborhood into a slum with them. As for now, they have people living in trailers in their back yard, and in their garage and charge $50 a week for people to sleep on their couches. There are always crowds there, drinking and making sleep impossible and all the rest. I had enough and told the entire world. Later one of the Hag daughters were offended that I was out in the street screaming. Right. That family had NEVER had an argument behind closed doors. They always fight out in the street for the world to hear. It incensed Casey and Josh is on a low simmer. And Ifeel so fragile.

As if that wasn;t enough, we now have learned that much of what the independent adjusters told us wasn't true. That they put us in a home with rental furniture that cost $2000 a month and not counting TVs I could have furnished the whole rental house for that and would have had furniture to take back home with us when our house is rebuilt. We also discovered that we could get another advance from the insurance company and I wouldn't have had to spend all that time with soot up my nose trying to clean things. And with the rent of the house and the ridiculous price for furniture we will be out of money and homeless in 5 months and the independant insurass adjuster had done NOTHING to get the rebuild going. Not even having us meet with the contractor etc. Calls go unanswered. Now they are grinding those picked clean bones into dust under their feet.

I try to cling to the good. My neighbors who kept Josh and the dogs for that long and still welcome them when we bring them back to run in the yard... the dogs, not Josh tho Josh does stop there each night after work. My rubberstamp list friends who have been so generous, sharing their goodies with me so now I can throw the stinky stuff away. The young lady at the hotel who offered me a bag of clothes for fear that I could not afford to buy some. The chef at the same hotel who presented us with a gift of a fruit basket. Not to mention anyone who will sit still and listen to our woes and offer sympathy. Sometimes tho that bad tends to overwhelm the good. I try to shake it. I do and then I think of my poor lonely house with no one to give it heart and I cry.

I'll get through this. I always do. I have big dogs who will lick my face dry and sons who love me and treat me as if I were special and a husband who puts up with me.

Speaking of dogs...... We looked out into the rental house yard. A small yard with two shrubs and in the middle of one of those scrubs sat Kali, grinning her little doggy girl grin and driving Charlie crazy because he can't reach her while she sits IN the bush.

We have a love seat pushed under the bay window in the living room. Often time you find the dogs, their front paws draped over the back of the love seat, Charlie's butt planted firmly onthe seat while Kali needs to stand, when she isn't standing IN the bay window. The sit there side by side, always touching tails wagging in the same rythym turning to grin at me and then go back to warn people that they better not DARE cross that street. If they do, well the dogs have tounges and they know what to do with them.

Slurp!