Memoirs from my homeless days

This will become a regular feature of this blog every few days. I have an old handwritten journal of my homeless days that I found again today and was reading. Many of them are worth sharing. Posting will be as my time to transcribe from paper to digital medium permit.

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One of the hardest aspects of my homelessness has been the insidious cold. It sneaks in every piece of clothing and leaves you numb. When you build a big camp fire, the front of you becomes uncomfortably hot and your back and rear are freezing cold. The only time I can truly be comfortable is to crawl into my warm down sleeping bag and slumber.

I long for above forty degree days. They are a true joy. I used to would pay little attention to the weather and the forecasts. Now, they are integral to my well being and morale. I will listen to the weather band on my little radio as if the words spoken were the sacred words of a prophet. What’s that? 50 degrees and sunny tomorrow? What great joy those words bring to my soul!

The cold can be a relative thing. You quickly grow acclimated to your environment. Forty degrees used to be bone chilling cold to this southerner. Now, it seems like a moderately balmy day. Fifty degree days feel downright warm and spring like. Sixty degree days and you have a veritable summer! Those sixty degree days have been rare and few and far between this November. I long for the spring and respite from this existence! Just four more long months to go.