Friday, November 11, 2011

11-11-11

The wild horses had wondered off during the night or early morning, but by 3 pm they wondered back onto my bosses. Animals normally return to a source of water. Between the horses, mule deer, elk it's like Noah's Ark.

I have been terribly ill almost all of the day. I woke up with a fairly bad migraine that still refuses to go away as I get ready to sleep. My spine and joints are excruciatingly painful.
It was such an over cast and chilly day.. and very depressing.... and this pain that won't go away is exhausting me.I should have gone to Nogal but I was in so much pain I honestly didn't do much of anything but light work. And even that was done very slowly.
A childhood friend posted a wonderful poem for the veterans that we honor today.

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'
I don't know whom to make an appeal to. I don't know if it's Liam Griffin, Michael Huckins, Dr Kenneth Ogilvie or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins. ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) But I am desperately trying to reach someone who has leverage.
I want to see my mum again, and as each day passes the chance of my ever seeing her again decreases. I want to be a mother with stability, not left homeless in dire straits. These are terrible economic times but your son, cousin, brother knew that he was stealing from people who had no other resources. That his actions would be total destruction for the victims.
Because of Robert Huckins I ended up paying $140,000 to be homeless.. sat in the cold, emotionally, physically and financially broke. In the middle of a recession, with no way to recover the stolen funds.

Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.


I am simply begging for the return of our stolen
building fund. I am begging as I have never begged anyone in my life before. He should have never been allowed to destroy Dorothy and so many other women. Please don't let him destroy my family. Please...
"If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, Of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?" ~Albert Einstein