Never Count On Tomorrow, (final post)


January 8th,1987

It has been a while since she last had time to write, and when she did she really didn’t feel like it.

Christmas has been over for a while now and she finally took the tree down. She left it up as long as she could, she knew it would be the last one that she would remember for the rest of her life. She needed the space where the tree was standing for cartons of personal items she had already packed. She never fully decorated the house for Christmas this year, she just didn’t have the heart. She felt accomplished with the fact she got the tree up at all.

She paid a rent referral service $90.00 to help her find another place to live. Her spirits rose when the referral service called with a place to look at. I need 3 bedrooms this place had two and was $400.00 a month plus. Well that one didn’t work out.

Everyone is still working in their own private areas of packing up their individual possessions.

It’s been 18 days since she was told she had to move her family. What will she get into today. She packed her clothes from the bedroom making sure to keep boxes separate  from her hubby s’. She still has to do the kitchen. She hates to pack pot and pans and stuff that don’t fit into boxes neatly.

She worked in the basement for quite a while. She couldn’t stay in one room for too long it was just too much to handle sometimes.

Wed. January 14th,

She has been deeply depressed for a few days now crying more and more while trying not to upset the family. Especially her son. She will miss her very best friend who used to live with them for a little while. She loves this girl like a daughter. Her friend is strong when she needs to be, but I know she has a soft heart.

She felt that the burden of finding a home for everyone was completely with her. She can’t let go of this place long enough to hit the streets to find another. Her family has been keeping their distance, giving her room to breathe. The tears are returning more and more often. It’s so hard for her to stop them sometimes.

Sun. January 31 st

She hasn’t written in a while, she has been so tied up with finding a home. She has 30 days from today to get the family relocated. She still has no idea where it will be. Nothing will compare to what she is leaving behind. But she has to keep up the faith that she will find something for the 5 family members.

There has been a drawback to every call she’s made. Up until now no-one will accept pets, not enough bedrooms, rooms are too small in ratio to rental price. Security deposits for everything including leaving fingerprints on the doorknobs.

Fri. February 13th

It’s been 53 days since she has been packing and hitting the streets to find the family a suitable house. She calls it a ‘House’ because whatever and wherever it will be it won’t be a home. Her life as she knew it is over. She has decided to leave this home in great condition. For a long time she has had periods of total anger at having  to move her family, it was during these times she decided to leave everything she couldn’t take and let the ‘cock-roach’ of a landlord deal with it. But fortunately those times were far and few between and she decided to leave it in good and clean condition. She did take everything from the home even the curtain rod hooks and the light bulbs in the ceilings, that was her anger speaking again.

On this day she found the family a suitable place to live. It’s an old farmhouse with 3 bedrooms up and a full bath. Living room, dining room,kitchen and full pantry and 1/2 bath downstairs.The stairways leading to the second floor were pie wedged shape and ‘nothing big’ could go up that way. All of the furniture had to be  taken up a ladder to the second floor where there was a window especially made for taking large things up stairs. Her hubby and son must love her a whole lot to climb that ladder carrying heavy furniture. To this day she still can’t believe they did it. Her thoughts went to getting it all back out if they had to move again.

She still has 17 days left and she is not looking forward to leaving. She paid $2,175 to get into the new place. There was no refrigerator so that was $700. She is not complaining because she knows there are some people who wouldn’t have enough money to make a move like this.

She never really moved in, she had boxes and boxes of stuff that she never put out in the new place. The rent was $800.00 and that didn’t include water/sewage, oil every month, and electric, just to name a few. Her old rent was $250.00 per month all inclusive.

She was able to keep the family together at the new place for about 3 years at which time she and hubby moved 200 miles away to the mountains. That’s when her depression really got bad. She left her family behind and her yearning for them was great.But that is another story.

She is so please she had the forethought to keep a journal from the beginning of her downward spiral.

She truly hopes she has not offended anyone by writing this post, these are her thoughts and she likes them.

Thank you if you are reading this and God bless.

Never Count On Tomorrow (post 1)


Thursday Jan, 1, 1987

It’s 7 AM, New Years Day. The holidays are over for the time being.

They were successful during rifle season in the mountains of Pa this year. Getting venison sure saves on grocery bills.

The lives of her family are totally scarred by the manner she has been asked to vacate the premises. they’ve rented this house for 10 years . They’ve made lasting friends in the area. But the house was sold and will be turned into apartments.

Just one fine day on December 22nd she answered the phone to find her new landlord on the other end, he wanted to tell her” you have 60 days in which you must remove all personal property from your home”.

She cried off and on for a long while that day. She had to tell the family we have to move through no fault of our own. She told the family and friends she had living with her, “if you see me crying please don’t acknowledge it”.

She had to find another place to live. The rent she paid was $250 a month and all places even close to what she had is over $800 not counting utilities and oil.

Her mind goes and goes. Thinking of everything and nothing.She hurts inside, she yearns for another Christmas and New Year here. But she knows this is not possible.

Today she starting to clean out drawers and closets.

We are all holding up pretty good I think. But she worries  all the time about where we’re they are going to live.

Christmas was the best this year. The family members were as close to being one unit as they’ll ever be.

The First Day Of Hunting Doe Mountain 1988

bw_stencils_fullsize_deerMonday November 28th, 1988

Well the first day is done! Hubby got a 3 pt at 8 AM. He only fired one time, instant kill, clean shot, just what we want.

I missed a large  6 or 8 pt maybe more. Beautiful rack. I think he was still in rut because 1. He was with a large breeder doe which I find out of the ordinary for the time of year. 2. What was he doing down so low on the mountain, never have I seen a deer that large anywhere but up high on this mountain, and, 3. He never lowered his head, normally a buck will travel with his antlers lowered, trying to hide them. But during rut he holds his antlers high trying to show his ability.

We saw two other doe, one heading for the pines and 1 down where I fired at the 8 pt. Most activity before 11 AM.

Not much went right for me after I missed that buck.  I tracked him 3/4 of the way up to the highest ridge then after marking the blood where I fired.

I had to go find Terry on the mountain , so I went back down. I found him and he wanted to go right back up. So we did.

We never did find him, I don’t think I hit him very good, just a graze. We lost the blood way up near the top of the mountain.

The terrain near the top is dangerous. I walked on the sides of my feet because it’s all rock and downed trees covered with leaves and the rocks are loose. The area here is straight up!

Later on I dropped and broke the new thermos, I lost my orange hat but I found it again.

The ride home is quiet and I’m falling asleep.





Daily Prompt “Gone” Writing Exercise


Gone are the days of dancing,

Gone are the days of looking to the future,

Gone are the motorcycle rides on the mountain roads in the forest,

Gone are the days of partying till dawn,

Gone are the yearly New Years Eve parties where I laughed till I peed,

Gone is the 9 ft. tournament pool table that many friends found relaxing,

Gone from the house in Hulmeville,

Gone was a wonderful way of life,

Gone are the days of form-fitting clothes,

Gone are the days of a full head of hair,

Gone are the days of having hair any where,

Gone are the days of running any where,

Gone are the days of Pink Floyd,

Gone are the days of being 70.

“Fishing” This is how I like to do it!

The act of pulling something out from something. Fishing for fish, fishing for answers, fishing for the right item in a sale bin, fishing for the mate to one of my mismatched socks. There are more ways to use this word than I can shake a stick at.                                 sam_0375                    sam_0373

The act of catching fish is the one I like best

I’ve been retired for 10 years, I went out when I was 62 and continued to work for about 5 years. Hubby has been retired for 2 years, when he went out he went out all the way. No more work for him.

So we decided to take a little bit of our retirement money and buy us a class three Recreation Vehicle. It isn’t brand new it’s a o4 Fourwinds 5000, but it is clean. We did a few small things to it to make it more like home.

sam_0389  We take it to Sarasota Florida once a year. We go at the end of June through July 4th. People tell us we’re nuts because it’s the hottest time down there. All of the ‘SnowBirds’ have flown north by then, which gives us lotsa space. Sarasota is the biggest and longest time away. We can only afford one far away trip, and that ones takes use a whole day to master. We don’t fish much in Florida, too many alligators for my liking and fishing from the surf is not my thing either. We did take a charter out with many other people. It was a good time but not long enough.


After we recoup from Florida in more ways than one, we like to take a couple  of short trips right in our home state of Pennsylvania. We like to go north towards the Finger Lakes. We usually go after Labor Day because again we have the place pretty much to ourself.

Here is one of the places we like to fish up north in Meadville, Pennsylvania. We fish for whatever takes the bait, mostly Bass. So relaxing to sit on my outdoor chair, have my fishing line in the water and my Kindle Fire with a good book.


The only part of this trip that ticks me off is that Hubby always catches more fish than me. And he never lets me forget it.

“Float” Just A Little Bathroom Humor

dda797b6b78624ac31a79461777bde3dI live in a farmhouse that, when researching, I took the deed back to 1863 and lost it. We have a hole in the ground out the kitchen side of the house, and another hole in the ground on the living room side of the house.

I jokingly tell my family, “the water comes out of the hole in the ground out the kitchen side of the house, and goes through the house and comes out and goes into a hole in the ground on the living room side”. They don’t understand at first, then they say “Okay, we get it you have a well and a cesspool”.

There is a pump in the rock foundation cellar that draws the water out of the hole out the kitchen side, (the well) and holds it in a tank until we need it, (holding tank).

The problem that I’ve had with this system is that if the FLOAT in the toilet gets stuck and we are not aware of it right away, the pump will keep pumping the water out of the well,  into the tank on the toilet then out the living room side of the house into the hole in the ground (the cesspool). Most people have septic tanks, our house came with a cesspool.

When this happens the hole out the living room side of the house fills up completely and waters the a section of the yard. Then I have to call the honey-dippers to come and get all of the water out along with all the other goodies in there. ;-).

How could something as little as the FLOAT in the tank on my toilet cause me so much frustration and embarrassment. Someday when I hit the lottery (hahaha) I plan on getting it fixed properly. Thank the Lord it doesn’t happen often, we are forever putting new guts in the toilet including a new FLOAT!

What If I Became Homeless?

What If I Became Homeless?

Here on earth worrying about work tomorrow is a real life concern.  If I lose my job tomorrow I will be homeless in about 3 months tops. When a star dies does another one comes to life somewhere else. Is that what would become of me?  My life as I knew it would die like the star and a new way of life would come into existence under a bridge.

Anyone can become homeless it all depends on where they are on the food chain. What’s that old saying, “but for the grace of God there go I”. Would I live long enough to make a place for myself under the bridge or would I die trying. How many times would I be raped before the Lord would take me home and comfort me.

Homelessness has always frightened me. maxresdefault

How would I survive out there under a bridge somewhere? Would the other homeless people living under the bridge welcome me? I think not, at least not all of them. But I would only need one good homeless person who has compassion and wouldn’t judge me for the clothes I’m wearing. After all I would’ve just arrived under the bridge and my clothes and my appearance would be different from those around me. I’m in their environment now.

Would they let me warm myself by the glow of the beautiful fire they maintain for the ‘people under the bridge’?

How would I make my own space, that little spot under the bridge that no one had taken? Would the material things that I was able to take with me when I lost the comfort of the home I’d made for myself in society be enough to get me started.

What would I sleep ‘on’?

How would I rest and not worry about someone taking my stuff? If someone did take  my precious belongings what would I do about it? Would I fight for myself to get them back?Would I make a stand in front of all the people under the bridge? I would have to do something because if I let them take one of my belongings, there is a good chance some of the other homeless persons under the bridge would get the same idea and I would be left with near to nothing.

What would I eat? How would I find food? I would have to be willing to fight for the morsels found in the nearby dumpster. Would I gag at the sight of the contents of the dumpster or would I fill my empty stomach with whatever I could find that wouldn’t make me sick?

Would I learn the way of the homeless, or would I die while sleeping under the bridge? If I did die like the stars in the universe what would happen to my body? Would someone tell the authorities that I died? Or would they just take the rest of my precious belongings and leave me to disappear into the darkness like the star that dies in the universe?

Would the other homeless under the bridge hear my sobs during the night as the stars are dying and being reborn somewhere else in the universe? Probably not because their own tears and hopeless sobs are drowning out those I’m making.

Would I get comfort from the stars in the universe? Would I see one die and reappear somewhere else? Would it really make a difference to me? I think not!

God Bless the Homeless