The house I told you of last month is in my name. It has been a very long 30 days. The frustrating part was that my wife had made certain demands and her daughter who is also going to reside there with her husband and three children have consistently told her they are un-realistic, viable or in some cases, even legal.
As many of you my loyal readers know, I am a lover of nature; the world is a breathing entity of organisms, plants, and animals. My eyes are wide open to all things beautiful and I enjoy admiring any creature that comes into my space.
The other day I got this Facebook notice from a former co-worker from Northern Quest. She was an African American woman who I knew for years and resigned to have her baby three years ago. So, I was pleasantly surprised that she sent a post to me.
Okay, here is the good news that I have wanted to share for months now but only today am able to tell my loyal readers, my book I Albert Peabody is paid for through my diligent efforts. Like I said it’s been several months of suffering through in which case it seemed someone or something always seemed to get in the way.
I’ve been just on pins and needles feeling like Gumby, being pulled in different directions because of this home deal, my book promotions and marketing, my wife and of course my own writing which has suffered the most.
We think we have found our place outside Cheney and Airway Heights which are towns outside Spokane. It’s 4.5 acres with a mobile home, a barn in the back, a shop, and unused pasture that will eventually be mine and Stephanie’s new home…
Last night my writers’ group had a class in point of view. In case my loyal readers are not aware or have forgotten what they learned Junior High and High school English, point of view is the perspective of how the writer want to present his characters, such as first person: me, myself, or I, second person: you, or third person: he, she, them, they.
Long ago in a school district far, far away and before people in a decision-making capacity realized that I had speech impairment and not a mental disability, I was placed in Special Ed. No one had to tell us that we were not part of society, from a young and impressionable age we all knew we didn’t belong.
This goes beyond words to describe how I feel right now following what happened Monday in Highland Park, Illinois. Once again, a deranged individual comes out of the woodwork and using an assault style rifle shoots parade goers on our most sacred holiday.
Jose was six years old riding in the back of a long trailer with over fifty others fleeing, what Padre called a dire situation in Honduras where they lived but were suddenly thrown out. He saw his uncle give this man all of the pesos they possessed to get out of here and into a land of promise.