I was scheduled to work for someone today, but they never phoned nor contacted me. I was more than depressed about the no show because I desperately needed the money.My hand is still swollen twice it's normal size, but it's not as painful today as it has been, as long as I don't use it. I'm not convinced that I could handle driving the truck in this snow ~ with only one hand. So I'm unsure if the no-show is a curse or a blessing. I only know that I needed that income.
Follow @DeniseBundyMORE snow is forecast for today, tonight and tomorrow. The temperature has been fairly consistent, in the 20's and 30's, but I am simply frozen solid and after days of shivering trying to keep warm I'm sick and tired of it. I want the spring weather to return. Right now if possible.
I have to get this web site up and running, and inventory purchased if I have any hope of having income coming in...but the project is going so slow for lack of a web designer to guide me through it. It's one of those nerve wrenching situations because my saving has gone. I have tread water as long as humanly possible.. and I'm going under.
Everything I use daily, clothes and blankets, are covered in mud. Even if we had no snow in the forecast it would take days for this snow to melt and the ground to dry up... in between melting and drying this shed will flood, so it looks like I am going to have to grin and bear two weeks or more of mud covered blankets. If I can even stay in this shed that long.Before noon ~ by sheer miracle ~ a web designer appeared and offered to get my web site off the ground. I was so delighted I wanted to jump up and down with excitement but the space restraints of the shed forbid me to do that.
Still.. I was more than relieved and excited.
Singer: Dan Pitt; Produced by Oli Whitworth at Boog Studios Oxford.By 6 pm I was wondering how cold this cold is going to get. I smell the warm fire places burning in homes around me, but I have been so desperately cold for days and I wish I was sat in front of a fire........ in my own home.
I wrote this song to prick the conscience of mankind of the plight of the Homeless in cities across the world. Too often these people are disregarded and labelled as addicts and bums without a second thought. However, with this song I wanted to ask people to look at the reasons why someone is Homeless and to stop and think about how awful and empty their existence and plight is. In short, to think of the cause and not the symptoms. It is my intention to propagate the awareness of this song and to secure a record deal in order to ultimately raise monies for Homeless charities across the world.
If you would like to help this cause you can buy the track at the following link. Thanks for listening.
http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/homeless-boy-single/id408948886
Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/Melodyman007
This is... so cold.
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 violent 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 for 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, please 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.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.
http://roberthuckinsvictim.blogspot.com/2011/12/white-nothing-but-white.html
Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore. ~ Andre Gide
