When the temperature dropped to 25 degree's inside this shed last night I knew that I was going to be in serious trouble before too long. The migraine that keeps plaguing me refuses to go away, and I woke up this morning, as I did yesterday morning, terribly ill.
Not until late last night did I realize that I had become so upset about the electricity I lost my appetite and didn't have anything to eat all day. But it was too late to do anything about it, and I probably wouldn't have been able to keep any food in my stomach anyway.More than one person has advised me that I should simply accept the fact that I am homeless and will continue being homeless - it's an unresolvable situation. How does a human being accept such? I am so unworthy that I shouldn't expect a home ever again? Is this how I am going to live the rest of my life? My dad used to say that the longer you carry problems, the heavier they get. Homelessness that you cannot financially resolve is one of those problems you can't ignore. It simply devours you.
Before 7.30 am I phoned Jan to tell her to expect a check from a prospective buyer, then I staggered into the paddock to feed No-Name and take photo's of him so that I can start to market him.I thought he was going to work at the track, but it's like the weather around here. Wait 5 minutes and everything changes.
It really took a long time for me to move around today, to find any energy and not desire to crawl back into the shed and try to sleep this migraine off. The weather today was fabulous even if my health was not.
After noon I decided to leave work for the day to see if I could relieve the stress of the house/barn and just do something, anything, to get my mind off the problem.
My first stop was Walgreen to pick up more *Advil Migraine. I happen to walk into the store at the exact same time as Patrica Ogilvie-Huckins.
She clearly didn't recognize me. But I recognized her, and I looked down at my clothes (clearly a woman living in a shed) it suddenly hit me that I will NEVER see my mother alive again if her son doesn't return the money he stole from us.
The impact was so hard on me emotionally that I had to leave the store violently throwing up. How I got back to Alto only God knows, because the road had become a distorted mess, so out of focus I may as well have been in the sky.
$82,000 maybe not be a big deal to someone from a well heeled background. $140,000 may seem trivial. But to us.. that was every single dime we had.
The only thing left for me to do is to plead to the family members of Robert Huckins to intervene. If that be Michael Huckins, Dr.Kenneth Ogilvie ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins.If you would be caring enough, and humane enough to do so, please make your brother, son, cousin return the entire building fund he stole from us so that I can buy a home. I simply can't go on homeless.
It is already OCTOBER 2011 and my nerves are in shambles now going into 4 years of hell, that should never have been allowed. I am devastated at the loss of my mother, my career, my home and all I want is what we have paid honest money for - and I beg for your mercy.
Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.
No women should be abused, and suffer such cruelty, to this degree. I am homeless and I want to see my mum and return to my career, so I won't stop asking if I have to ask every single day until I die. Robert Huckins gave no-one an alternative, so I plead with sincerity for your mercy and intervention.
We ought always to deal justly, not only with those who are just to us, but likewise to those who endeavor to injure us; and this, for fear lest by rendering them evil for evil, we should fall into the same vice.~Hierocles
