The holidays are not always joyous, pretty paper, shiny ribbons and big bows.
No certainty of bells will be ringing. Not everyone gets to try out the fresh potent mistletoe. Flirting, dangling, hanging over the doorway leading to the front hall foyer room. The one with the sweeping, dual feed open, curving, winding natural imported wood staircase. Creating the holiday Hallmark card setting for half lit arriving guests. With multi color light strings arranged just so. Twinkling brightly, mingling with the smell of pine, holly berry, plum pudding. Something crooned, muttered about crackling chestnuts roasting on an open fire in the background low.
Excuse me, sorry to interrupt this highly festive Active Rain blog post.
To be a wet blanket. Killjoy. But my, gotta ask.
Can I trouble you for something?
Could you please pass the divinity fudge and spot me just one more mocha / coconut peanut butter ball? From that silver plated platter on the next room revolution passing your way? Thank you very very much.
Nothing blue blue blue about your Christmas Mister Man.
Unless heavily financed, staged with just too many over the top swipes of the down low plastic. Lots of the small rectangular cards that say Christmas best. For thirty days. Thick deck stacked in the wallet or purse. All with the very active, well worn magnetic strips. Can you say "Ching ching"? There. I knew you could.
And "homeless for Christmas, nothing to celebrate for New Years" could sound like someone had a tragic fire. Barely got out with only their birthday suit unsinged. Lost everything, lock stock and barrel. Displaced and now couch surfing. Until one by one they wear out their welcome. On the hunt for a rent, somewhere to lay low, hole up. To heal mentally, maybe physically too if hurt on the way out. Trying now to just stay warm, regroup. Settle the rocking life boat.
Homeless sounds ominous, taboo, pathetic, what did you do wrong, to deserve that condition.
Not because you are poor, mentally ill and a transient. Been between too many rocks, or very hard place surfaces to chaff the skin.
Like severe road rash when you start riding sideways.
Dumping a Harley in top gear, wide open at twice the posted speed limit. When cuffing right along and oh oh, hitting loose gravel in the pouring rain. This is gonna hurt, leave scars that never go away.
Homeless. Alone, wet, dirty, cold, hungry, huddling, trembling, hurt. With no hope, little faith as the only two emotions you wear day and night. Never changing it up.
Geesh, everyone needs a home. Everyone deserves a roof, floor, four walls right? Especially at Christmas. Even if it is just a manger. Santa has to have a destination to GPS for every good little boy and girl. No exceptions.
Or maybe the cause of homeless is you lost the house you loved. No more can you call it "your place with the shared space". Because tapped on the shoulder. Asked to leave, you are outta here due to a nasty, contentious, high profile divorce.
Or yanked, never to be able to return to the home because of an escalated drinking problem, one with gambling habit tag teaming the bottoming out too. That necessitated changing all the door locks, adding dead bolts, chains, security cameras. And your new home the three hots and a cot down at the safest place ever, the Crow Bar Hotel. Where the goulash is to die for slopped on the cafeteria plate. Move along. Close your pie hole #3456-9.
Some addiction caused the crippling loss of the house keys. A spot to park the Desoto, Rambler, Hummer.
Homeless because it kick started the foreclosure due to first a couple late monthly payments. Then overlooked three years of property taxes.
Hear it comes. The house eviction when everything hits the fan. Come on kids, gather your things. Just what you can carry and say good bye.
Everything you own put "out out out damn Spot" on the front lawn. Because you didn't pay, you didn't get to stay.
In black and white, spelled out a bunch of times. What would happen talked about at the real estate closing. It was warned, discussed, addressed from many angles. In the fine print of the very long multi page sign here. Raise your hand and swear this is your free act and deed paperwork. Initial right here, there (pointing) .. attah boy. I think we are finally done.
How's your hand? Cramped? It happens. We get that a lot. Crossing the "T"'s, dotting those "I"'s to buy a home. To activate the mortgage on the sticks and bricks that drags on. Can pull you down with the ankle monitor weight of the lien pressue. Like being an on house arrest convicted felon gotta stay home always heavy on the mind. Partnered with the place ball and chain. Not getting out much for multiple decades.
Homeless can mean let the bells ring. Free, free at last.
Or the ark of a place needed when eight is enough filled it. But empty nest happened.
And retirement is approaching. It's travel light time. Pack just your knapsack, toothbrush. A few Cliff bars.
Tell the post office to hold the mail.
We are going to see some sights, travel like a hobo.
Except the part about hopping a lonesome whistle blow southbound or way way out west freight train to do it. Play me a soulful tune on that harmonica can you? Aswe travel like gypsies, whichever way the wind blows us.
Homeless, when the holiday spirit of family, hearth and home are now playing all around you.
It can make you feel charitable. Want to help someone less fortunate. Because that is the spirit of Christmas right? A continuation of the feeling blessed, grateful for all you have that is way way more than enough to consider yourself pretty darn fortunate.
With Thanksgiving's gratitude driving you all the way to the Christmas.
Still feeling pretty much aglow, sky high from gobble gobble turkey time.
And now the same giddy but not because of too much sweetener spiking the eggnog either.
The Happy Happy Happy inside, building, busting out for the strike of twelve to put the year you had behind you.
In the rear view mirror. As you drive into a new set of a dozen sheets to hang on the wall. To tackle a change in housing for sale locations, styles, square footage, condition as you celebrate the New Year.
We are real estate professionals and herd those little doggie houses, the nice ones too. To help the homeless, do the matchmaking trying on the best possible glass slipper fits. When you sit down and start by listening and then moving, grooving to get that homeless situation cured. To fix, remedy the homeless real estate problem endemic because of FSSR.
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