I'd like to clarify my last post lest anyone think I'm so loopy that I would get sad over a bunch of weeds growing. I'd be more likely to get sad over the clutter in my living room, but it doesn't bother me all that much.
I have known I must do something about the exterior of my property because the park police are making lot inspections beginning April 1. So nearly every day this year that the temperature reached above 50F and was not raining I have worked in the yard, anywhere from half an hour to several hours. I try to do it in smaller doses, but rather than notice a steady improvement it seems the grass and weeds grow back overnight.
One of the park managers came to my door on Friday, smiling, and handed me an envelope. He said something about removing the weeds, and still smiling remarked that he knew I had been working on it. I haven't been that angry for a long time. Lot inspections start on April 1 beginning with lot #1, and mine isn't even in the first hundred, so I knew I had at least two weeks. I haven't even opened the envelope and probably won't, it made me so mad. Then I began to get depressed just thinking about it.
For the rest of the day I thought about how I could either sell the house really cheap and get the hell out, or go into some debt to have everything fixed that needs it - roof, windows, driveway, etc. When I read the notice in the monthly newsletter about the inspections, they even talk about houses, skirting, mailboxes, etc., on which the paint is fading or chipped and needs repainting. I live in a 1962 mobile home for god's sake, in Sacramento, CA which broils in the summer sun, and I guess most paint fades.
I don't like anything about gated communities or homeowner's associations, and this is one of the reasons. So even though I like having a place of my own, I thought of the relative freedom of living in an RV. Yes, there are restrictions in many RV parks or "resorts", but they aren't the kind of places I would enjoy staying at to begin with.
So I was in an agitated state for the rest of the day, and then in the evening I began to get messages on my cell phone. It would give an alert and when I checked it said I had received a new photo from Joe (youngest son). Would I like to see the photo? Photo album is empty. Delete message. That was followed over the course of the next couple hours by identical messages regarding new photos from Jeannie, Donald, Steve, and Meg. I emailed Jeannie & Joe saying that for some reason I couldn't access the photos, and could they send them to me attached to an email. It turns out they were texting (no photos involved) and included my phone # in the distribution list. I'm not sure why I couldn't get the messages except that maybe I need to set up my phone for texting? I am almost sure I have texting capability on my phone, but as I dislike texting to begin with I never worried about setting anything up.
The alerts went on steadily for several hours. At one point I turned off my phone, but later when I turned it back on I had tons more messages to delete. It was too much for me, and I nearly fell apart then - that's when the sadness hit. I can't even deal with a damn cell phone!
I don't like to text but I do like to email. I don't do Facebook, but I do like to email. That leaves me out of the loop where I will remain, but I'm still sort of sad about it. So while it isn't going to happen, I would love to get rid of this house, get a nice small Class C, and take off for whatever time I have left in this world. Throw out all the phones and go places I can't even use a computer. Do what I like with no restrictions and no orders as long as I stay within the confines of the law. It's sad to be out of sync with the rest of the world, but I wouldn't trade being me for anything.
NOT EVEN AN INKLING
9 hours ago