criterion for staying at 821

Multipal levels of criterion for my stay at 821 are emerging: cheep, happy, safe relatively (I'm not there to become a martyr). I want to live in the cheepest place in Baltimore. I want to have an inner sense of happiness. I do not want to be harmed physically.

And here is another that is related to the no physical harm criterion: I want to have some measure of social peace. I want someone to be a partner in prayer. The Milton Montford neighborhood organizer lady is perhaps the closest to that. The Ashford organizer is another supportive voice, but I am not technically in her neighborhood boundaries.

First act in new house: pray

There was a woman who moved into a scary section of Harlem. The first thing she did in her house was get down on her knees and pray. Sounds like something I'd like to do.

decent human being

"One must think like a hero to behave like a merely decent human being."
-- May Sarton

My goal in my Bradford Street adventure, is merely to be a decent human being. And yet, my thoughts do seem to take a rather heroic texture. Maybe that is a metaphor for my more ordindary life her in 31st St. To stay decent, I need to keep thinking heroically.

I feel guilty for not being productive.

Police cars

Wednesday I was down at 821, and the police where there. The whole 800 block was blocked off: two cars on the east end and one on the west, just beyond 821. Except for the officers, there ware no people on the street at all.

I wanted to see if there was some problem at 821, a break-in perhaps. So I took the alley on foot to take a look at the back side. When I got there an officer came around the corner and yelled at me, "Hey Boss, What you doing back here."

"I'm planning to buy this house," I replied, keeping my voice down so that not everyone could hear. I worry about staking my claim verbally, they making someone upset, they having them vandalize the place before I even have a chance to move in.

The cop yelled back something in a tone of warning, but I do not know that he said.

Looking back, police presence could be a sign of getting criminal element out of that street, or it could be buisness as usual. Someone seeing me might think I was back there because I was an undercover cop. And that could make me safer perhaps.

I don't know what it points toward.

waiting for a contract

"This wait is killin' me!"

So says my inner complainer. It has been almost a week since my realator sent my last contract pages to the seller, and still they have not sent back a signed contract. He says they are taking longer than he expected. I'm worried that they won't sign. Maybe it is too good a deal, and they know it. Maybe they want to, in Bob the auctioneer's terms, start a bidding war. But no, they have accepted. Odds are they will stick with their word. Or at least that is what I suppose I should assume.