Memoirs, a Narrative. Part Four

The early days in Hood River: they weren’t always a treat. I remember having to bring my water supply pipe in for the night so it wouldn’t freeze. I remember working an 18 hour day and having to be back in 4 hours. This is when I only had wood heat. I slept in my winter coat. I remember unfriendly neighbors. They turned us in for growing pot. Wayno did have AIDS. It really wasn’t’ that big of crime. Their nephew used to climb a tree and yell “Faggots” at Wayn and I. Their daughter used to have sex in their back yard, just over our fence. Wayno used to throw St. Bernard shit over the fence. Hoping for sweet justice!

Years  have passed.

The house is sound now. The Phelps (and their house) are long gone. This is my home. I worked for it in many ways.