Sunday, December 18, 2011

Blizzard Warning

I woke up at 1.30 am so deathly ill I wanted to roll over and die. I couldn't get back to sleep, couldn't stop hacking and coughing, so I made myself some theraflu and tried to get rid of a migraine.

It's times like this when everything comes down on my shoulders like a lead weight. When I feel terribly lonely and incredibly scared.


By 3.30 am I started to fall back to sleep, not even waking up until after 9.30 am. We are on storm watch, yet the temperature went into the upper 50's. Sunny, warm. Absolutely gorgeous weather. How did spring suddenly appear? It was a rare luxury after the weeks of below 30 temperatures.

The wild horses had found the sweet feed in the back of the truck and I was awakened by squealing as a fight ensued over one bag of sweet feed. Eventually they went across to a neighbors, but only after they realized that there was no room in this inn.

This has been a really lazy day. I tried to get as much washing done as possible - but failed to get any clean bedding. I seriously need clean sheets and blankets. Tonight we have a storm barreling down on us and it's forecast to be a bad one. I am so exhausted I don't even know if I can handle one more.
A major winter storm is set to hammer New Mexico and the southwest high Plains of Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado and Kansas.

Ingredients include heavy snow, high winds, falling temps and biting wind chills. Suffice to say, this is a dangerous and life-threatening storm for those stuck outside in the elements.

Timing: Begins Sunday night, peaks in intensity Monday night, snow/wind diminishing by midday Tuesday.
A strong upper low has been spinning over northwest Mexico (northern Baja) and southern California during the past few days. It will soon spin to the east and move into southern New Mexico and west Texas by Monday morning. Its presence will help to induce a surface area of low pressure to develop over west Texas at the same time.
What I wouldn't give to be in my own home. Feel carpet under my feet, and the smell of cooking coming from the kitchen. To be able to look out of the window and feel comfortable, warm and secure. Being homeless, outside in this type of weather, is just not fun.
There has to be someone related to Robert &Sylve Huckins must have some means to reach them, if it be Michael Huckins, Dr.Kenneth Ogilvie ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins and get them to return ALL of the money they stole from us so that I can buy a home and get our lives back. I am begging anyone in this family for help.

I don't believe I have EVER witnessed any none vio
lent crime that can be as devastating as stealing someone's home. I am walking in Dorothy McKeevers footsteps, day by day, month by month, year by year.

Liam Griffin, I sat in your law office with two witnesses as you gave me your promise, your guarantee, that our money would be returned before harm came to us.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylve Huckins and your son introduced me to you. He told you that I was the British horse trainer he had told you about, the one he was going to build the home and barn for. Why didn't you say something? There may be a rational and reasonable explanation but I have spent over 3 years, homeless, not understanding it. I understand it even less knowing that though I was a total stranger, both Dorothy McKeever and Sally Canning you KNEW, and you knew what your son had done to them and others.

Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, I contacted you and simply asked f
or a reference, not knowing that Robert Huckins was your cousin. Robert Huckins had just stolen over $30,000 from the domestic violence shelter, HEAL, yet everyone was trying to hide it. There was a history of stealing large amounts of money. $65,000 PLUS from Nancy Canning. $89,000 PLUS from Dorothy McKeever, $45,000 from Francis McKinney. The list just goes on and on and on.
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.


Women are not banks or loan institutions. Women should not be the source of a retirement fund for people who don't want to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Holding women hostage while playing with the judicial system, a horrendous game of cat and mouse extending YEARS, with the victims whose very homes, families and stability are in jeopardy is cruelty, as cruel as a physical beating. It is financial and emotional RAPE. Homelessness is not justice. It is a slow, painful death.
Please, I beg with everything I have within me, pl
ease convince Robert Huckins to stop this torture and return the building fund he stole from us so we too, can have a home.

Relevant pages:

http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/shattered-dreams-endless-nightmare.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/paul-harvey-once-reported-if-you-want.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/who-is-robert-millard-huckins.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/so-where-is-money.html
http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/criminal-defense-attorneys-woes.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2010/06/pen-is-mightier-than-sword.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com
/2011/02/morally-bankrupt.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/06/robert-huckins-legal-plea.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/07/many-faces-of-abuse.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/07/shadow-women.html http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/07/price-of-crime.html
http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/12/white-nothing-but-white.htmlThere is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief. . . and unspeakable love.~ Washington Irving