CHAPTER 61 Olallie What?

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copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.

I got up at 6 a.m. I wanted to be sure to do all my morning therapy for my eye as well as all of the regular therapy and stretching routine, plus have breakfast before Alan arrived. I was planning on doing two loads of laundry too after Alan opened up the houses.

The eye hadn't woken me up in the wee hours of the morning, which was a welcomed change. It was looking better and better. But it was a slow process. I tried not to get frustrated with its slow progress of healing. I wanted it to be healthy right NOW. I didn't want to wait. But my body had other plans.

I'd learned long ago, that recovery takes time. But it never stopped me from being frustrated by it. I knew the body didn't get out of balance instantly, nor does it get back into balance overnight. It takes time. It takes a lot of time, patience, energy, pain, and consistency to move from sickness back to health.

I was still doing my eye routine every day. I did two cycles of the diluted Drops into the eye, the hot compress three times a day, and the castor oil around the eyebrow and cheekbone, took my nutritional supplements, and drank the mixed internal Drops twice a day. I also watched my sugar and carbohydrate intake too.

Today, I needed to pull all my inside plants outside of the Cabin. I didn't want them baking if we had a hot day. I also wanted to get a couple more things of clothing, empty my fridge of all the perishable things, get some writing books, and put my trash outside so it didn't stink up the house.

I drove up in my car and took the filled laundry basket to the laundry room and waited till I heard Alan drive by. He stopped, got out of his car, went to the front door and unlocked it.

"Thanks," I told him as he was getting back in his truck.

"And you know I have to be out of here at 10 a.m., right?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, my Dad told me."

"Okay."

He drove down the little hill to my Parent's house, the Glass House, to unlock it for them. I had given Dad a list of things to get out of the house, some for me, but mostly for all of us.

They also wanted to pull their second fridge out of the house and set it out on the front deck. It being summer and all, we didn't have to worry about the rain. Probably the only thing we had to worry about was a raccoon opening the fridge up...maybe looking for a Coke or a midnight snack.

The Cabin was too quiet. It felt wrong to me. It seemed like I had been on vacation and had just gotten back. Only I wasn't on vacation. I was living less than a minute away, and I couldn't even go into my own home anymore. On the outside, everything looked normal. Well except for the big fat Eviction notice on the door.

I got everything I needed and headed back to the Main House. Alan was there waiting in his car. I told him about having stuff in the dryer and would have to go back to get it.

"If that's okay?" I asked him politely.

"Well, I think that's going to be a problem. Because I have to lock the house up."

"No, this is in the laundry room. It's a side room to the house. It doesn't have a lock on the door, so you can't lock it."

His face still did not seem to register what I was saying. He thought I was asking him to leave the Cabin unlocked. He could lock up the house just fine. So I said it again.

"Okay," he said.

"I just wanted you to know I was going back up to the house to get the laundry in the dryer."

"No worries," he said.

Mom came out of the Glass House with a large jar of jam in her hand and a big smile on her face. It was another one of her concoctions. Mom was famous with those who knew her for her jamming abilities. She was a true inventor in the kitchen. Alan looked at the liquid treasure with hungered eyes.

"What kind is this?" Alan asked.

"Olallie Pear Plum," replied my Mom.

"Ollaallie?"

"You've never heard of Olallieberry?" my Mom asked.

"No," said Alan.

"Well, it's a cross between a blackberry and a youngberry."

"Okay," Alan replied with an obvious tone of having no idea what that meant.

"My Mom's like a mad scientist in the kitchen when she makes her jams. I told my Dad we're all spoiled on jam. We could never eat Smucker's again!"

Once you've had homemade jam it's near impossible to go back to the generic or big corporation brands. They just don't have the flavor and they put way too much sugar in their jams too. Plus all the preservatives and dyes they add to make it look and taste like jam should, is disgusting. Mom makes hers with fruit, sugar, and pectin. That's it!

Alan laughed. We stood there and chatted a little while my Mom went back inside the Glass House to help my Dad with the last few things before Alan had to leave. It seemed normal. Normal. Yeah. Normal.

Alan and I were having a pleasant conversation. Laughing and joking without judgment. It didn't factor in the location of it. Right in front of our house with the Eviction notice on it.

Alan went into the Glass House to look for my Dad, who was just coming out of the laundry room. We all walked out the front door while Alan locked up.

"Give me a call if you need me to come back out this week," Alan said to my Dad.

"Okay. We might do Thursday. But if you don't hear from me, don't worry about it."

"Okay."

"Thanks," we all said as Alan got in his car.

"No problem," Alan said.

Alan drove up to the Cabin to lock it back up before leaving the Farm. Then we worked at bringing all the stuff we had set on the porch of the Glass House to our new temporary house, the Main House.

"So did you get everything you wanted?" I asked Dad.

"Yes, we did. Though I keep having to remind Your Mother we're just getting what we need for the next week."

"Did she start to grab stuff again?"

"Yeah, she did. She starts to get near the door and all the sudden her hands just start grabbing everything she can that's nearby. I had to stop her several times and say, 'Now what are you bringing that for?"

I laughed! Poor Mom was still a little twitchy about her stuff. She'd probably do amazing if anyone put a clock on her in one of those supermarket races. The kind where they give you a cart, set you in the front of the store, you have five minutes to grab everything you can and shove into your cart before the buzzer sounds. If anyone told my Mom she had twelve hours to get all her stuff out of the house and put a buzzer on her, it would be pretty hysterical!


"RealtyTrac reported 3,42,038 foreclosure filings — default notices, auction sale notices and bank repossessions — on U.S. properties in April 2009, a 32 percent jump

from April 2008 and the highest monthly foreclosure rate since it began issuing its report in 2005."

Foreclosure to Homelessness

2009 Report


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