We had a brief glimmer of hope last week. Friday we were out running errands and Jeremy's cell phone rang. It was the mayor! He wanted to know if we were home and if he could stop by. We stopped mid-errand and went straight back home. R.T. was already there walking through the yard, admiring our chickens and garden.
We gave him some background on mushroom growing and what the city cited us for. R.T. was very supportive and said he'd do what he could. But he admitted things moved slowly. We were hoping for a reprieve, a delay, an extension, but we haven't heard anything yet.
This morning Jeremy and his intern moved all the logs and dismantled everything here. It's amazingly bare and empty looking now...
...compared to before:
(uh, make that WAY before.)
I have hope that the mushroom logs will come back and Jeremy will be able to continue his business here in our yard, and in other yards, without fear of harassment from city inspectors. But I'm sure it will take time.
There is no hope for the back of the terrace. Here's what we got cited for:
I hardly know how the inspector knew the ground wasn't level five feet away since there are so many plants back there.
Jeremy spent the weekend digging out all the plants and dirt. Our fruit bushes and various flowers and plants, refugees from city policy, are huddled in twos and threes around the yard, their roots clothed in various pots and bins, awaiting resettlement. I hope they will not be damaged too much by this mid-summer transplanting.
I don't know when or if the inspector will come and what he will say. I feel a certain dread that they will surely find something else to cite us for: like too many trees, or too many rain barrels, or not enough grass!
We'll make the best of it, and move on with different plans. Projects continue in the house, so I'll update you all soon.