Hello to my great full respected readers. I am always pleased when you enjoy my silly thoughts. Thank-you.
I know it has been a while that I have blogged, but I have been quite busy, trying to edit a book I have written in 1996, with all these children my daughter kept having, lol. There is no time!
Now that these children are the ages of 15, 12, 9 and 6, all soon, starting this month until September they all will be one year up. š„³
Oh bother, that with the mother losing her head and off to find it and their father incarcerated, the full responsibility is still mine and great full they are in school allowing me to edit this one story out of several, at last.
Now, need I remind you my brain is not functioning as the term normal on any scale of degrees. Meaning I started out dumb and continued in that fashion until I had my own children forcing me to be the best possible teacher allowing them to grow in a safe environment and make them to be five times smarter than I could ever be.
Of course living in my shoes from day one, born in an outhouse in the winter, and given away at four months, kidnapped at 16-18 months, then from an orphanage by the age of three only to be molested from the age of three to seven. Then from the age of ten to fifteen beat where I ran away to the childrenās aid Society. That was a bad place to live until my father fought getting me out at the age of 17 1/2 and never looked back.
I can tell you the only thing I cared about was not getting a lick en and what was for supper? Meaning, school meant absolutely nothing to me, I thought it was a punishment? So what I learned was people are extremely cruel, mean, bullies and only care about themselves. So I trusted nobody! And practiced for twelve years lol, to be the best spy ever. Didnāt help much.
By the time I was 15, I was raped, attacked, driven to the bush, <<<>>> I laugh at that now, then, it was scary as big spiders falling on you, scary as lightning hammering down right in front of you, scary as falling off a boat into shark laced waters. Iām just happy to be alive.
My first day starting a job at a hospital I was attacked being held up off the floor by a mad man, I took the wrong door. š¤ I got the day off.
But all in all I have Heroed several times without a second thought, and always prevented with the triumph of God by my side or in my body strength and purpose.
On the serious side of things. Iāve been run over by horse and buggy run down three times before my mother stopped it, hit my car twice and here I am today. I believe I died once, and I know I spoke to the Lord-he spoke to me. I guess my mission is to raise these children.
Oh wait a minute . . . are you supposed to die when your mission in life is over or something there like that, if thatās the case I donāt want that mission I donāt wanna know my mission my mission better still be confusing and somewhere still out there.
I started writing stories when my children were in school, and me rotten at spelling and grammar and pronunciation and punctuation and a whole whack of things. š the difference between (is and was). Oh bother. Present and past. But when typing my mind has no time for perfection, as I see in my mind as I tellā¦is, is happening now.
Anyways.
My first edition-PHOBIA THE AFTERMATH
It did all start with the black floater in my left eye causing me to always slapping out at NOTHING! Then I started wondering how to rid of it, and my mind went berserk, all by itself.
THE END
Until the FLASK DRINKERS
Working on that now.