So the Plymouth is back and so is Patsy, who still finds it the best spot for her afternoon nap.
Meanwhile, my quest to get a permit allowing workmen to park in front of the house without my personal LA County Sheriff's deputy giving me another $60 ticket continues.
As you may recall, the deputy told me to get a permit from Malibu City Hall, where workers told me I can't have the permit because Paradise Cove is private property. Cove management doesn't have such a permit, but they're mulling it over.
So I called the state's Department of Housing and Community Development. The permit guy, Danny Wade, was on duty that day but -- and believe me, I understand -- he was too busy to take any of my three calls and didn't manage to call me back.
Yesterday, the permit guy on duty, John George, did call me back. And promptly told me it has nothing to do with him and he has no idea who to turn to. So I asked for his supervisor's name, which turns out to be Sal.
I left Sal a voicemail message yesterday morning, saying all I want is a hint on where to turn. Surely the state agency that oversees mobile home parks in California might have an idea of how to resolve this issue?
So far, no call back from Sal.
If I knew how to write the code for a poll in this blog post, I'd turn it all over to you. Does anyone there think Sal is going to call me back? Does anyone expect me to make a safe or sane return from my tumble down bureaucratic rabbit hole? Or shall I tie on a pinafore, grab The Mad Hatter's hand and go have tea with the queen?