Holy tomatoes

Last week I was at one of our garden sites and we were busy harvesting hundreds of pounds of tomatoes when I saw my friend Timmy and this two friends walking by.
Timmy is homeless. Timmy has alcohol and girlfriend problems and goes back to both of those things even though they are slowly killing him inside. Sometimes he sobers up and doesn't talk to the girlfriend... then a few weeks later he is stumbling drunk around Franklinton with girlfriend. Sometimes he goes to sleep on the sidewalk under a bridge on Souder. Sometimes he can't even stand upright. I have been friends with Timmy for many years now and love him more and more every time I see him, despite the state he is in. I love Timmy more and more because more and more I am able to see what a wonderful man he is. He has an adorable voice with a little stutter and always talks like he is flattered or blushing or something. He always calls us girls "sissy". Which is what he calls his female homeless comrades, so I have always taken it as a compliment. "Sissy" this and "sissy" that which sounds funny but its how I know he loves and respects us. It's been a long long struggle for Timmy and I hope the streets don't swallow him before he can get off them and really live his life free from the oppression of alcohol and girlfriend.

He is always walking around Franklinton and walked past the garden with girlfriend and other friend, Billy on this day last week. I called out for him and the three of them walked up to the fence to stop and talk. They looked so rough and so ragged. Faces red and eyes bloodshot and tired. Dirty, over sized clothes, and broken backpacks. I stood on the other side lookin in pretty rough shape myself. The fence is about 5 foot high. We stood there talking about what they were doing and what we were doing and they were impressed with all the tomatoes we were harvesting. Then they asked if they could have some tomatoes. I found myself really surprised for some stupid reason and quickly ran to get them the most gorgeous tomatoes I could find in the pile.

I handed them over the fence, commenting on how it felt like prison sort of, behind the fence. I was wondering what they were going to do with the tomatoes, no utensils or plates or salads to add them to. They packed some in the backpack but then the three of them stood there and bit into each of their tomatoes like it was an apple. Juice and seeds leaking down the front of them, they were in tomato heaven. I just stood there watching them for a minute and wishing that scene was on film because there were no words to depict the scene. It was so holy and so damn beautiful to me. If those were the only three who ate the tomatoes we grew it would be worth it a hundred times over. Spreading the gospel of tomatoes has never felt so rewarding.

we as a community are blogging here now.... blessedarethe.wordpress.com

check it out

Awesome day

Today was wonderful.

Franklinton Gardens had a work crew of high schoolers come out today to volunteer. When I brought a group of them over to the garden at our house our neighbor kids naturally ended up in the garden with us trying to help. There was about 10 of them. I kept trying to find jobs for them to do, because they are so eager to help! They really only want to do jobs which include the use of tools somehow. I gave them three push mowers to start and they beautifully figured out that two at a time can do it if they each hold one side of the handle. Two by two they were holding onto the push mowers and cutting down grass as a team. “Look Ashley, we sharing this thing” (Awan).

After the grass was cut I gave them all shovels to help move some mulch and finally after all the work ran out they asked if they could just start digging holes. They were in the back yard where its just a bunch of dirt so I told them yes, it’d be helpful.

I love having them here even if they are just digging a hole in the dirt because they like to work and it occupies their time and makes them feel needed. They feel like they have been given a job and they need to complete it. They love learning about new tools and love being given the responsibility of using them.

A few weeks ago a kid who lives on our street, Vikeem (sp?) stopped by when I was outside building lettuce window boxes and he desperately wanted to help me drill in the screws. I was being anal and hesitant at first because I wanted them to be just right, but so did he, and so we worked together on that and built them perfectly. He’d never used a drill, said he has seen people use them and had always wanted to. I’m so honored that I got to be the one to teach him how to use a power drill. Thats cool. He said that maybe he could go into construction when hes older because he can drill and I told him he should.

Anyways, back to digging the holes. The kids kept finding things as they were digging (bricks, rocks, plastic, trash). When they found the brick they thought that maybe a house was under there and they could dig it up. Someone else thought that maybe there was treasure, or gold, so they kept digging. What a joy to overhear their conversations about what was under the ground.

Eventually we had to take the work crew back so I told the kids we had to go. But they wanted to come, and they wanted to carry all the tools so I brought them with me to walk the work crew back. They helped some more over at the farm house with a project Ryan (a friend of ours in the neighborhood) was working on. He was really really good with those kids. He was teaching them all kinds of things about garden beds and somehow even made it fun for the kids to shovel piles of mulch onto burlap sacks. He had a great way of engaging them while teaching them and kept calling shovels full of mulch “blobs.” Then started calling the kids blob-erators and they just ate it up. Then thwere asking questions thinking blob was a real garden word. I love seeing them smile and laugh at stuff like that. especially the ones who always try to act so tough. I was so proud of them. And Ryan too for being so great with them.

Then all 8 or 9 kids and I decided to walk up to the bike shop because they have been dying to see it. So we started that hike. Kids walk so darn slow. It was a nice walk. Nice to hear them interact with each other and I felt like one of them. I felt like a kid hanging out with my friends, roaming the streets. We went up to the bike shop, popped some bubble wrap, got a sense that we were bothering the boys working and decided to head home.

I loved being with them today. What great friends to have. What sweet little smiles to see and laughs to hear.

Responding to Violence

It’s taken me a few days to reflect on this incident I encountered the other day. It’s also taken me a few days “repent” from the way I responded to it. I feel like it’s a good experience to share.

Greg and I were driving back from dropping off Heather just after getting our bee hives. We were in the Franklinton Gardens Truck which looks something like this…

Needless to say, we don’t blend in well with other cars. We turned a corner and saw a group of about 20 kids all gathered around two children fist fighting. We pulled the truck over and as we did noticed our kids (by ours I mean the lovely kids that live next door to us that have become apart of our family and we are very protective over). Not only that but we noticed adults, mothers, watching this fight take place on their sidewalk. Also noticed an 18-year-old (ish) male shoving the kid who was trying to walk away from the fight, back into the circle. Every time the child stepped out and tried to talk away, the guy would push him back in the circle and tell him to fight. It wasn’t just kids slapping each other, this was a violent fight.

Greg jumped out of the truck and walked into the circle immediately to break the kids up. I started gathering all our kids and the kids on our street into the truck. By gathering what I really mean is a was sternly yelling at them to get in the truck and get away from this. When Greg asked the man in the circle why he pushing the kid into fight he went off and started threatening him. As the kids were loading up in the truck the police showed up and the man facilitating the fight instructed everyone to split. As he was walking away and walked past me and the kids in the truck I just lost it. I was so extremely emotional and fearful of what just happened and I was so angry at that man. I confronted him asking him why he is doing this to children and why he is exposing children to this kind of violence and who knows what else I said in the heat of the moment. He came back at me with some nasty names and a threat and a “you don’t know me.”

We got the kids home safe. Had a talk about what just happened and the fact that when they get old enough and the police show up to something like that and they are standing there that they will get arrested for even just being there. We talked about just walking away from those things because there is nothing good there to be influenced by. Not sure they really cared what I said but I love those kids so damn much and want to protect them from everything bad in the world. I don’t want these kids to grow up and resort to violence every time something goes wrong. I want these kids to have good lives. I don’t want to see them in fights or even worse, shot. These are the same kids that have come over in the morning before school to have us tie their shoes and now we are dragging them out of fights.

I know they are exposed to it a lot. I know they see fights almost daily. Violence seeps out of the sidewalks down here. But I am glad that at least this once we were able to get them out of the situation and let them know how damaging these things can be. Someone there to say that this isn’t normal and this isn’t ok.

I regret confronting that man the way I did. It’s not his fault. He was right when he said I don’t know him. I don’t know where he has come from or what he has seen or what he has been exposed to. It’s not right that he was pushing kids into fight, I am not justifying that at all. But talk about a man growing up in a terrible situation that has resorted to him thinking this kind of thing is ok. It was just as violent of me to come at him like I did. Rather than try to engage with him and talk rationally. I am never rational in those types of situations and how can you be?

Rain down justice upon us Lord, that we might live in peace.

lexy

I just ran out the door real quick to go borrow some powdered sugar from Patience’s house and our neighbor Alexis was outside. Alexis is 12. And we had the following conversation.

Lexy: “Hey Ashley”

Me: “Hey Lexy girl. Whats up?”

Lexy: “Guess what?”

Me: “What?”

Lexy: “I just saw a dog get killed.”

Me: “What?! Where?” Lexy points west. “How did it get killed?”

Lexy: “The po- lice shot it”

Me: “What? Why?”

Lexy: “I don’t they was arresting some man and the dog kept barking so they shot it 6 times in the throat”

In front of a 12 year old. Thanks for furthering the already present themes of death, violence, and murder in this neighborhood mr po-lice man. You are perpetuating a lie that so many people believe. You are just as much apart of the evil in this neighborhood. And people wonder why kids down here grow up not trusting cops.

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.

surviving winter

Picture update!
Greg and I in vermont before Christmas!

Sippin skinny girl margs with kelly and the buddah

the view from my bedroom window. such a beautiful tree. it gives me hope

Heath!

the newly weds :)

Superbowl Sunday

I came home from work today to a completely empty house... which is very unusual around these parts because when you live with 6 people there is bound to be someone around.

I heated up some leftover soup from the street church meal that our community makes and serves once a month (today was that day), got some water, buttered some bread, and sat. Alone. In the kitchen.

"I'm lonely" was my first thought... then I just absorbed the silence and thought "this is nice." Halfway through my bowl of soup I tuned on the Marie Antoinette soundtrack to keep me company, then felt guilty for not being able to sit in silence tonight.

While I do enjoy the occasional home alone times, living alone would make me a very sad and lonely lady. Especially in the winter when things feel sad as is.

Everyone is watching the super bowl, all the groceries stores have special displays, all the corporations have spent lots of money and time on the creation of clever commercials and I feel sickened over the thought that super bowl weekend is the one of the biggest human trafficking events in the U.S. Women (young women, minors) are being "shipped" down to Texas to meet the demand of all the men down there looking to purchase sex along with their football. Never mind that most of these men probably have children themselves, and are paying to have sex with another mans child. I hope that one day they will know the evil they have caused in seeking their own pleasure.

To my sisters being trafficked at this very minute, I am praying to our mother God for your rescue.

Grief

Yesterday, we buried our friend Junior.
I have been dreading a situation like this one ever since we entered into the lifestyle we have. Being this close to the suffering in this neighborhood makes one suffer a lot more. And now, our community is suffering a great loss. He was taken from us too early and too unexpectedly. My sweet memories of him have had me both crying and laughing the past few days. Junior was quite the character. We had a unique relationship with Junior that we don't have with our other homeless friends.

We were lucky to have seen him shortly before his death and remind him that we loved him. We will sorely miss you Junior, your loud ass voice and demanding demeanor. Your sweet smile and balding head. Your classic quotes: "bozo the clown, king of the morons!" "west by god Virgina". Your protection of us, your kids. Your protection of our front porch. Your singing. Your inappropriate remarks. Cleaning the wounds on your feet. You in Jonathan's bathrobe, six sizes too small. You talking to yourself in the garden. You running down the median with Kelly and I trying to see a fire down the street. Your crazy ass stories.

We are sorry for the times we had to turn you away. The times we were too busy or exhausted to take care of you. The times I avoided sitting next to you at church because I wanted to hear the message. All precious moments with you that were missed and I regret them. How I wouldn't love to have one more day with you. One more time to tell you how much we love you and how special you truly are.

We will visit you often in the garden at St Johns, and more importantly... we will keep telling your stories, as often as we can.

I had the honor of being able to read at Juniors funeral yesterday, to a church packed full of people that Junior has impacted over the years. I read "On Death" from the book The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. The end of that reading is beautiful and peaceful and is helping me cope.

It reads;
"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

You are free Junior. Free from the cold, the pain, the suffering. Free from illness, from hunger, from rejection, from hurt. You have a home, a new body, perfect health, warmth, and love from a source that we are all so far from. You are singing and dancing with your creator. And you are probably sitting in a big chair, watching us, laughing, calling us bozo's.


I am grieving. We as a community are grieving, and I have always liked what Anne Lamott has to say about grief...

"All those years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I've discovered since is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving and heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it."

"I'm pretty sure that it is only by experiencing that ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed- which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace."

Troop Franklinton

Two of my best friends and I decided one day to start a girl scout troop in Franklinton.

We did the training and stuff and finally had our first meeting last night at St Johns.

Thirteen beautiful and broken girls showed up to meet their 3 beautiful and broken leaders...

we had to ask one girl to leave because she was crazier then any of us knew what to do with. very broken girl in probably a very broken situation.

one precious girl, when answering what girls scouts means to her said,

"we (girl scouts) are BRAVE."

it broke my heart.

later she asked what we are supposed to do if someone comes to girl scouts to beat us up?

we (troop leaders) shocked, looked around awkwardly and then explained that this was a safe place and people we were not going to come here to beat us up.

and another little girl asked what we are to do when people break in to get us.


that fucked me up. how the fuck do you answer 5 and 6 year olds asking these kind of questions.

this is no troop beverly hills...

Summer photo update...

Our neighbors testing out our new couch before we can...



A quick escape out of fton to get out into the country and see the stars...

camping...

Girls weekend!

Fourth of July girls weekend...

My darling...

First harvest of our onion greens and our sour cherries!

Birthday post

Today... I am 24.

We had a lovely cookout last night in our yard with our closest friends and it was everything I could have ever wanted.

We grilled up a bunch of veggie dogs, some marinated veggies, and corn. We made a bunch of dips and had margaritas. The weather was perfect and we had a really nice time chatting and sitting amongst our large garden.
Ahhh... friends and grills and summer weather.

I was awoken this morning with breakfast and coffee in bed by my sweet sweet boyfriend. He made up a little menu of everything in the kitchen that we could have and made check boxes for me to choose what I wanted to eat.

I chose toast and watermelon and we sat and drank coffee and chatted the morning away.

We took care of the chickens and worked in the garden a bit later on in the morning, tore out the bad lettuce and planted more peppers and tomatoes. We will have many many tomatoes and peppers, so we must learn to make salsa quick.

Then we went to peruse the arts festival in downtown Columbus and gawk at all the expensive art we will never own. It was nice. Its also nice knowing that we never HAVE to own that kind of shit.

Then we headed to the north market in search of some special watermelon. I am on a watermelon kick in case you couldn't tell. They didn't have it... but we got some more sweet corn and zucchini instead.

Once we got home we decided to "hit the f-in town" with Jy and Kelly. We had a late lunch at the Happy Greek in the short north then walked around there for awhile. We got chased by a nasty thunderstorm and we ran from the lightening. We found shelter in a coffee shop and read newspapers and played a competitive game of scrabble before heading home.

There is nothing better to do on a rainy day but lounge around so we did that for a bit before Greg and I took a little walk through the neighborhood and found a few sweet cherry trees and some mulberry trees to snack on.

All in all its been a lovely 24th birthday spent with those I love most.

We are now onto a glass of red wine and some harry potter...

How to build a community garden...

... according to us Franklinton folk that is...

Step # 1... find an empty lot you won't get kicked out of. Consider guerrilla gardening if you don't have access to land you won't get kicked out of.

Step # 2... find a group of dedicated friends.

Step # 2 1/2... chain saw down dead trees in the yard.

Step # 3... get dirt and lots of compost.

Step # 4... get lots of wood. Be sure it is not pressure treated wood. You don't want treated lumber leeching toxins into your soil and your food.

Step # 5... get a drill and a bucket of 2 inch wood screws and build raised beds. Our beds were 4 feet by 8 feet but you can make them whatever size you choose. Consider being able to reach in the middle of the bed to plant/ weed/ harvest.

Step # 6... Lay beds. Space them out so you can work in between each one. We spaced ours about 2 feet apart.Step # 7... Lay a liner in the bottom if you haven't turned over the sod so weeds can't get through. It is probably optimal to turn over the sod and cover with straw/ cardboard for a week before. But as you can see, we layed a garden liner. Don't forget to poke holes so your water will drain!

Step 7 1/2... level beds

Step # 8... find some awesome neighborhoods kids who are eager to hang out and climb heaps of soil to help you fill wheel barrels.

Step # 9... Fill beds with said soil/ compost. And borrow your equipment from Keep Columbus Beautiful for free!

This picture below shows a good shot of empty beds... lined beds... and filled beds... and hard workers.

Step # 10... spread out soil evenly in beds... fill to at least one inch below top of bed. The soil will settle and soil level will drop quite a bit.

Step # 11... Top off beds with soil and you are ready to plant!

Our chicken journey...

In mid April we got 10 chicks to raise up to egg laying hens!

It has been fun watching them grow and fun/ frustrating trying to build them a suitable and safe home in Franklinton.

This was them the week we got them. They lived inside for about 6 weeks under a heat lamp until they were old enough and it was warm enough for them to go outside. We spent that time building a coup outside and a protected run for them to run around in.

Here they are a little older and a little smarter and they are trying to see the world on the other side of their box.

More pictures to come of the coup and their new home outside...

Oysters and the South Pacific Ocean

I made it to New Zealand!

It took 24 hours of long traveling, combined with some wine and ambien, but made it nonetheless.

I ate some fresh from the oyster farm oysters white sitting above the south pacific ocean.

Shocking!

How much more incredible could this be?

Snowed in 2010

I love counting on yearly snow-ins.

Last year it was in March and we were stranded at the boys house in Franklinton. Now we are all living together here and stranded again. Funny how things evolve. This time last year we were dreaming of everything we are doing right now... and now we are dreaming of even greater things than this...

I am looking forward to a reflection a year from now to see how things have evolved.

I am sitting inside, cold, watching the rest of my housemates run around the median in snow gear playing winter tackle football and frisbee. Kelly, the only woman out there, is really holding her own.

I just watched her wildly fling herself into the snow... get half way up and then fling herself helplessly back into the snow. hahaha. Such freedom, such beauty.

The boys are out there ramming into each other and tossing one another into the snow.

Oh happy days.

What are we thinking of and dreaming of and working on these days?

Here is a quick list...

Coffee shop in Franklinton, for a place of community gathering, a place for artistic expression, a place to employ locals, a place to keep our homeless friends warm in the winter and serve them a hot cup of coffee.

Community garden move to the two plots of land on either side of our house for growing our own food and helping our neighbors grow their own food.

Bike shop grant, pretty self explanatory, for developing the already existing bike shop.

Food co op, to finally get a place that can sell decent food in this neighborhood.

Renters rights education for our neighbors to fight their slumlords.

Creatively trying to resist gentrification and the placement of a casino into the neighborhood.

Weekly services in our basement chapel, usually by candle light, observing advent and now Epiphany, in attempt to deepen our spirituality and continue in worship.

That sums it up for now... there are people to warm up and coffee to drink...

Peace and peace!

picture update...

Our house...

Warehouse next to the bike shop

The start of our new house band called Bears Did This... stay tuned.

Hay ride with our st johns family...

Dance party with Junior in our kitchen...

Microloans... bringing global justice?

I think so!

I made my first micro-loan today to a woman in Nigeria named Mabel who is trying to run a grocery store...
http://www.kiva.org/ if you are interested in more info about micro-financing etc.

It is basically providing a non interest loan to the poor who are attempting to start businesses in order to survive in undeveloped countries.

You can give as little as $25 and eventually (hopefully) the loan will be repaid by the entrepreneur at the success of their work. There is a risk that it won't be paid back in instances like natural disasters, health issues, crop failure etc. To me it seems like a risk that is worth taking for the sake of global justice!

City wants to register vacant residences

Article from the Columbus Dispatch... I am going to check it out if anyone is interested last minute!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009 3:15 AM

Columbus officials have crafted legislation that would require owners of vacant and abandoned houses to register them with the city and hire local property managers to inspect and maintain them.

The proposal is aimed at curbing the blight and damage that foreclosures and the economy have inflicted on many of the city's neighborhoods.

It targets out-of-town property owners who buy up cheap properties and sit on them in hopes of making a financial killing down the road.

A registry like this would track the owners so the city can hold them responsible, said Assistant City Attorney Jody Spurlock.

The proposal would require owners to carry liability insurance on vacant properties and provide their neighbors with emergency contact numbers.

And it would make them file "statements of intent," including how long they expect their properties to remain vacant and a plan to fix up, demolish or sell the property.

But there's been no discussion on how the city would implement the proposed changes, which will likely be tweaked, Spurlock said.

"We threw in everything but the kitchen sink, presuming a lot would come out in the end," she said.

Charleta B. Tavares, the Columbus City Council member who chairs the health, housing and human-services committee, will host a public hearing on the proposal at 5:30 p.m. today at City Hall, the first of at least two hearings.

"We looked at some of the best practices around the country and came up with what we felt were some of the best measures to combat the problem," said James Ragland, Tavares' aide.

Snowbirds who flee Columbus for weeks or months during the winter would not be required to register, Tavares said.

Columbus has more than 5,300 vacant homes, many of which attract arsonists, thieves, squatters and drug dealers. Many fall into disrepair and threaten neighborhood property values.

Columbus already has an ordinance that requires owners of vacant and abandoned properties to register with the city, but only if they fail to fix problems after the city cites them.

Another problem is that the city can't find the property owners.

"If what we have on the books didn't work, maybe we need to look at other measures," Tavares said.

Laura Swanson, the executive director of the Columbus Apartment Association, said she believes the proposal would require owners to register a single apartment that has been vacant for 30 days, even if it's the only vacancy among hundreds of units.

Donna Hicho, executive director of the Greater Linden Development Corp., said the city needs to track owners and make sure they keep properties in good shape.

"Anything we can do to regulate them and have more accountability can only benefit the neighborhood," she said.

Here we are...

... full from a delicious dinner that Greg whipped up in a matter of minutes consisting of homemade egg noodles, eggplant parmesan, and tomatoes from our garden.

Sitting around listening to music... a beautiful thing this is. A good and beautiful thing without a doubt. Somehow it still feels hard, and a bit gray. The suffering that is constant all around us, all the time, feels heavy. We are trying to learn to have fun and enjoy life in the midst of all the heaviness. Time will help. Prayer and conservation probably will too.

I also think I have some of my own soul searching to do... some things to deal with... some feelings and emotions to sort though... and I need to choose my words carefully.

In other news, we have another person moving in this coming month. A guy from PA who is looking for an escape and, through some mutual friends, found us to put him up for a few months. This will bring our grand total to 8. We will surely keep each other warm this winter. I am really looking forward to providing some longer term hospitality to a brother in need.

On that note, off to enjoy silence... and search around my soul and my scattered mind a bit...

I'll leave you with some love from the Buddha...

"Chaos is inherent in all compounded things. Strive on with diligence."

From Kelly's blog...

My thoughts exactly...

" Tonight at femma we wrote letters to legislators regarding domestic violence as a pre-existing condition for health insurance coverage and baked chocolate-chip cookies. Even while passionate letters were handwritten, a funk hung about the group, not unlike the funk that has been plaguing us the past few weeks.

It is hard to live in this neighborhood. When the boys lived here and we drove in from Cville almost nightly, I didn’t notice it. There’s something about the hopelessness that permeates every street corner interaction or handful of broken glass littering the street. Though the neighborhood was the first settled of our state, the trees are young and small. Everything is decayed and nothing is colorful except for neon signs and pawn shop windows– and even those are covered with “the Franklinton film.” That’s what I call the dull and filmy coat hanging over everything from Mount Carmel to the Hilltop. Cigarette smoke, city pollution, oil and dirt rubbed off of last months clothes, and spilled Cobra. This morning biking to street church, Ashley heard a man yelling violently at his wife (an obscenely regular occurence on front porches and streets) and she yelled, “I HATE THIS PLACE!”

It’s just that ills are not kept behind walls in Franklinton. Everything is so overwhelmingly not behind walls that it is, in fact, strewn all over the overgrown lawn. It is this explicitness that makes for a difficult transition. Or, at least, a sudden and undiluted one.

We do have new neighbors to our left, which we have been waiting for. It is a family of six, and the three boys play football in our front median. They are a delightful family– we have already gotten to share some tomatoes and yard tools with them. So far we have seen them communicate very lovingly and respectfully to each other, which is a relief.

It is nice to finally see our homeless friends in passing throughout the week instead of at one designated time, and indeed helps the area feel like home. I would feel more threatened by random passersby if they didn’t smile familiarly and call us “sissy.”

I paint a bleak picture. It’s what I see but not what I hope for."