Collapse Hitting Home

The slow moving collapse of western society is finally hitting home. Two weeks ago my neighbor across the street got foreclosed on. A sheriff’s deputy and a goon squad showed up early in the morning with the foreclosure notice and an immediate eviction notice. There not required to give you any time to vacate the premises here, so they didn’t. The deputy gave her the notice and the goons started hauling her and her son’s things to the curb. She still hasn’t got a permanent place to live.

Three of my neighbors moved out today. Just on my street. I know that it’s moving season but that’s a little excessive. Two of them left in a big hurry and left a bunch of stuff behind. A partial list of the things I got off the curb at one house (incidentally next door to the one across from me where the foreclosure happened): two big bags of garden soil, several good shelves, a nice expensive looking coffee table, a TV, a printer (still in the box!), and an unopened bag of charcoal.

More and more homeless are appearing on the streets. The missions and shelters here are overwhelmed. The food pantries are running on empty. As soon as something comes in it goes right back out again. Food prices are skyrocketing right along with the price of gas. And this is only the first of the shocks on the long road down from the Age of Oil.

How am I coping? Mostly by storing food. Don’t laugh. It’s an utterly practical endeavor. Today I froze a bunch of things. One pint each of blueberries and blackberries, half a pint each of raspberries and plums and a bunch of apples, grapefruits, and tomatoes that were given to me. I froze rather than dried the last because there weren’t enough to dry or can and the tomatoes were all ready too ripe.

Another incident happened today that is worth mentioning. I was preparing to leave home to go clean a house and had just checked my mail. I was walking back to the car when suddenly I saw a hawk come winging out of the forest. The hawk is one of my spirit guides. This hawk flew out of the forest and over the neighborhood, then swung back towards me. For several minutes it hovered above me, circling over my head. It was maybe twenty feet in the air. Then with a cry it went on hunting. I watched it for several minutes before it went out of sight and then I went on my way. What it means I have no idea, save that I felt much more relaxed and peaceful after that. Maybe it was trying to tell me something I remember my great aunt saying when I was very young, before she died: this too shall pass.