The Meaning Of A Home

Today has been one of those lazy but simply beautiful days. Even the distant thunder and the arrival of a few rain storms didn't prevent the sun from shining. If I had a home I would have wanted to stay home today. I would have been busy in the garden, in the barn... it would have been one of those days where a 24 hour day just isn't enough.. a 48 hour day sounds so much better.

But I don't have a home.

So I pottered around and groomed "No-name" and did not accomplish a great deal.. but think about having a home.


Because I didn't have any retirement plan, social security, or savings it was clearly obvious that I would have to "hit the ground running" as soon as our home and barn was built in 2008. By 2008 it had become just as obvious that the economy was rolling. The horse industry starts to see and feel it well in advance of the general population.
And here I am almost 4 years later.. homeless. In the midst of a recession-depression.

Four years when you are closer to 60 year old, than 30 years old is a lifetime. It's a nightmare without end.
Today I cried a lot. Tears that I didn't seem to be able to control. And I was sad a lot, because I knew that today was the type of day I would have simply loved. If I had a home.

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 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 Robert Huckins was not going to steal our money and leave me homeless. You personally guaranteed that it 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 Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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.

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

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.

Nothing is so hard for those who abound in riches as to conceive how others can be in want. ~ Jonathan Swift

Stolen: If Found Please Return To Owner

I didn't feel very well today, a migraine pounded behind my eyes and I felt sick but I was awake very early. The stress and worry is turning into a serious depression and I'm unsure how to cope with depression. I am simply terrified of facing another winter without a home, and it's emotionally wearing me down.

What a gorgeous morning met me. I started pulling No Names mane & trimmed him up, right after sun up and gave him a good strapping down.
He certainly is enjoying the attention and I'm tickled pink with his progress.

By 11.30 am the thunder started and the sky became overcast, the wind started up and the rain came. During the monsoon season you have to get as much done as early as possible, for one never knows what the weather will be like from one hour to the next. There was no heavy rains today. A light rain, a lot of thunder and lightening and.. I overheard.. a wildfire caused by a lightening strike close to us.

The flies are just awful. I don't think I have ever had to fight so many flies. They are so numerous it's impossible to drink a drink, and the smell of the fly spray is toxic.

Three men have left an indelible mark in this world. Three men I hold in the highest esteem. Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer and Nelson Mandela. None had an easy life. All knew adversity, hardship, cruelty. Man's in humanity towards man. Yet all emerged as fierce fighters for human and civil rights, showing us that life can make one better, not bitter.
That kindness and compassion crosses borders, cultures, ethnicity, religion and often politics.

I don't know what makes one man turn into an icon for humanity, and another turn into a rogue who destroys and plunders. One the pinnacle of what is good, the other the epitome of evil. I will never understand human nature but I thank God for men like Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer and Nelson Mandela.

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 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.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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.

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

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.

A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination. ~Nelson Mandela

The End Is Near

Of the race season that is.
This week-end is always busy, with the horse sales on-going, and horses being shipped from Ruidoso Downs to the racetracks in other parts of the state and Texas.
I phoned Jan while she was sat at the QH sales, auctioning a high dollar filly.My boss purchased a 17 hands 4 year old, but as he told me that he had a horse I'd love to handle my heart literally sunk into the ground. 3 -4 years ago I would have loved to get the horse, today my life is in ruins and I don't have a place to put a rocking horse let alone a performance prospect. Today I am a homeless goffer trying to do the impossible.
The weather was really nice all day. The sunshine came out, then it rained. The sunshine came out again, then it rained. But the cooler damp weather is really affecting me. Winter really isn't far away. All day I had a migraine pounding away and several times I wanted to scream the pain was so bad, but somehow it remained under control even though it wouldn't go away.

"No Name" is looking fabulous despite his lousy conformation. His ribs are no longer showing, and his coat is clearing up. To watch a horse start to looking exceptionally healthy after suffering from malnutrition feels so good. And he's such a hip-pocket boy. He follows me around like a puppy dog, always so well mannered and personable. It's such a shame that wherever we look we see hungry horses and abandoned animals.

I ran to the bank before starting trying to get the shed cleaned up again. The mud is extensive and I doubt the boxes can be saved. But I am so scared of spending days unpacking and repacking again, because it's bound to rain more.
A bright spot on the horizon - maybe - is than an electrician is going to meet me in a week and give me an estimate of how much it will cost to get electricity onto our land. If I can get electricity working on that property it will be a miracle that has taken almost 4 years to attain. One day at a time, sweet Jesus.


Someone asked me why I include news stories on the blog. When you have been victimized to this degree you start to see the world a lot different. I have always been an activist for human rights, it's simply my nature to care about the downtrodden. For most human beings we see natural disasters and tragedies. Like the wildfires, tornadoes, floods.. even house fires. We may donate to help people. But then life sweeps us away and we "assume" that people can get back what was lost.

True, some home owners have insurance, and some have the financial means to recover. But some do not. For some they have just entered a long term homelessness struggling against the odds. We no longer see them in the news. The media moves on. But the tragedy continues out of our sight.
Today there are still people who lost their homes in Katrina, who are STILL homeless. But to deliberately set out to make people homeless takes a special kind of darkness, inhumanity and is thoroughly despicable.



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. I, like those victims who came before me, have been dragged through a living hell and I simply beg for your mercy.

I can't obtain a home until Robert Huckins returns the money he stole from us that was to buy a home, and I can't remain homeless.

Had he given the money back when he promised the white collar crime investigators I wouldn't be making this plea today. Had he never stolen our building fund I wouldn't be making this plea today.

But he pushes the abuse and torment to an extent where no alternatives are offered.
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 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.Our duty is to be useful, not according to our desires but according to our powers.~ Henri-Frederic Amiel

Out Of Sight Out Of Mind

I had no sooner watered the vegetable garden before 10 am than a storm appeared out of nowhere and within 15 minutes everything was flooding, especially this shed. I stood with my heart in my mouth knowing that I had just managed to dry it out, and I would be shoveling mud, fighting mold and in dire straights all over again. The bed that I had managed to get cleaned yesterday is now covered in mud.

Earlier one of the doe's arrived with her new born fawn. We have not seen as many new born fawns around here this year, which is a bit unusual.

As the rain continued I decided to go to Wal-Green, and I bumped into Ted Conley. Ted and his friend, Francis McKinney, were both victims of Robert Huckins losing a total amount of around $70,000 between them.
I doubt that anyone really knows the impressions they leave in their actions. But during 2008 had it not been for Ted I would have had a nervous breakdown.

Ted gave me clarity of thought, direction. He gave me grounding when I couldn't get any help from anyone. Each week I would stop by Conley's Nursery and we would run through everything that was going on, and what action I could take to try and get help. Yet Ted knew that I would never get the stolen money back, even though at the time the stolen money had not yet been removed from the bank and hidden by Robert Huckins.
Today Ted continued to express the reality that I would never see the total amount of the building fund returned. For myself it means that, bar a miracle, I will die homeless. I know that Robert Huckins is still playing games, for he knows that left homeless I can't get on my feet, he knows that I can't afford to rent and he can continue keeping my family shattered. Deep down I am quite convinced that he thinks that I, like Dorothy, can't physically withstand the hardship and will just die.

He may be right.
I just refuse to die homeless quietly.

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 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.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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.

As long as justice and injustice have not terminated their ever renewing fight for ascendancy in the affairs of mankind, human beings must be willing, when need is, to do battle for the one against the other. ~ John Stuart Mill

Living Outside The Box

Before noon the rain came, and the thunder continued all day even though periods of sunshine emerged. This is the very first day of the summer I have had to put on a sweater and full length jeans. It's not chilly, it was just a cool damp in the morning. I managed to get the carpet cleaned and the cleaner washed out before the deluge came.
But the carpet in my bosses house must have come in on the ark and the machine, a rented machine, started to burn up, probably because it was sucking up dry rotted carpet.
I have no idea what the damage is going to be in dollar amount, but the response from my boss was, "I don't want to talk about it."
Fun, fun, fun.
The flies in the shed have just been insane. I don't think I have ever see so many flies except in an unkept barn full of horses or livestock. Rio is starting to sneeze whenever the fly spray is used. I finally made her go outside and lay in a comfortable spot while I try to exterminate the pests she long since stopped trying to catch.

No matter how much effort I put into trying to distract myself, or stop worrying and fretting, it's always right there waiting to hit me:

"I don't have a home to go to tonight."
"I can't get back to my career tomorrow."
"I may never see my mother alive.. ever again."

I can try to joke with people, Smile, laugh, try to hide all my emotions.

But every step I take it's always right there waiting to hit me:

"I don't have a home to go to tonight."
"I can't get back to my career tomorrow."
"I may never see my mother alive.. ever again."

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. I, like those victims who came before me, have been dragged through a living hell and I simply beg for your mercy. I can't obtain a home until Robert Huckins returns the money he stole from us that was to buy a home. Had he given the money back when he promised the white collar crime investigators I wouldn't be making this plea today. Had he never stolen any money I wouldn't be making this plea today. But he pushes the abuse and torment to an extent where no alternatives are offered.
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 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. The immediate future is going to be tragic for all of us unless we find a way of making the vast educational resources of this country serve the true purpose of education, truth and justice. ~Anne Sullivan

Cold Feet And Fear

Last night I must have fallen to sleep around 11 pm, but was wide awake by 1 am hurting, so terribly damp and cold. From my lungs to my limbs I was in so much pain. Emotionally I was simply distraught, with tears flowing. It was one of those feelings where you are sinking below the waves and despite being surrounded by people, they don't see you or hear you.

Before I could go back to bed the bear arrived.

3 years ago, during the frenzy of having our building fund stolen, I had a close encounter with a black bear. Well, had I been awake I may have considered it a close encounter. There is a tiny window with smoked glass above my bed. It's the right size for the cats to go in and out, but nothing larger. However, one night a black bear decided to try and enter the shed through this small privacy window. The dogs raised chaos but, while still asleep, I kept telling them to lay down, and being obedient creatures they did as commanded. I slept through the whole fiasco and didn't realize what had happened until I woke up and saw bear claw marks on the wooden sill.It's been a standing joke about those claw marks left inside the shed, and the hind feet claw marks on the exterior of the shed, as he tried to hoist himself up and squeeze through the window. People asked how I knew he was a he? Well, a female would have figured out that the door was wide open 20 feet away from the small privacy window.
*Sigh*

On Sunday night my boss said that the bear was back, and as he wondered to the shed door Rio chased him out. I slept through it again. Last night I didn't miss the arrival of the bear. I was already awake and in pain when the dogs started creating havoc, and the horse started snorting and acting nervous.
This one may have been a female for it came right into one section of the shed and ignored the small privacy window. Or perhaps the male had learned a valuable lesson. Either way the bear didn't stay long, and did no damage.

This has been a very busy day. I cleaned all the carpets in my bosses house with the exception of the pool (billiards) room. That I will finish tomorrow morning.

By 4 pm the thunder and rain arrived, not a heavy rain, but enough to add to the yearly rainfall. Everything is starting to look green. Today wasn't as bad as yesterday, and I am truly trying to retain a semblance of hope.. but I am scared.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 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.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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

The possibility of bringing white-collar criminals to justice is ever receding over the horizon. ~ Sara Paretsky

Take Two Tablets.......

While feeding "No-Name" before sunrise I wondered if this was going to be another day in bed debilitated by a serious migraine. I felt so ill I took medication before I walked outside. Thankfully the migraine had disappeared by 10.30 am.

The 40-50 degree temperatures at night are starting to feel so damp and chilly, and more than a little scary. It would be a comfortable late summer if I resided in a house, but a shed is a totally different situation. I am bewildered at how I managed to survive "minus" 25 degree weather last winter, with no heat or creature comforts, when 40+ degree weather is already settling in my lungs and making me ache. I am not getting any younger, that is for sure.
Before noon the rain clouds and thunder came over the Sierra Blanca, but it brought so little rain.Shortly after our building fund was stolen someone suggested that I go work for a manic depressive, in a live-in situation. It was such an unbelievable suggestion that it left me with my mouth wide open. I work with animals, not people. I have a mother to worry about, and a career, $140,000 spend on a home and barn that don't exist, and the thought of anyone already under immense stress of this degree trying to cope with someone suffering from manic depression was beyond bizarre.
One of us may end up committing suicide, and it would probably be me.

Yet today I seriously considered how long I could cope with an 87 yr old while sleeping in a shed, going crazy trying to get into a home.

A carpet cleaning company was supposed to arrive at 12.20 am. They never arrived. At 1 pm. I asked my boss where they could be and was told that "someone" had left a message but he didn't know who. I asked for the phone number of the carpet cleaning company and was told that he didn't know it. The name? Didn't know it.

I started phoning every single carpet cleaning company in the region. No-one had a scheduled booking. I returned to ask my boss if he could get the number off the caller ID. He said that the company had left a message saying that they would arrive between 1 pm and 3 pm, but he had deleted the message and didn't have the phone number.

I explained that I wanted to pick my grand-children up at 3 pm. At which point I was told that if I didn't stay I "may" lose my job. I was simply furious, and had I a home to go to I would have gone right home. But I don't have a home. I have a shed, and a shed that depends upon my working here. From 3 pm to 4 pm my boss was on the phone, stopping all calls from coming through.

I finally drove to Ruidoso after 4 pm to get him some ribs and as I drove away I phoned him to see if anyone from the carpet cleaning company contacted him before he had decided to spend an hour on the phone.
I could have spit nails when he said, "No, they didn't phone me but that's Ruidoso for you. They don't do what they promise to do. But I do have the phone number if you want to call them and find out when they are coming."

*Sigh*

I actually have a GREAT boss and I feel blessed to have him during this awful time. I couldn't wish for anyone more understanding when it comes to my constant illnesses.

Today would have been an hilarious comedy of errors had I not been homeless and terrified. But today was one of those days when he acted like an 87 year old, and I acted like a 57 year old homeless woman. And I think at 87 years old some thing simply don't register. Things like women sleeping outside in the cold weather, flies, mud, mold or the panic struck worry about a home, or missing your mother ... or desperately wanting your life and career back. It's virtually impossible to understand the terror of homelessness.... unless you are the homeless person.


I am really starting to panic, am so depressed... and well, please Lord, make this torment end.

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. I, like those victims who came before me, have been dragged through a living hell and I simply beg for your mercy. I can't obtain a home until Robert Huckins returns the money he stole from us that was to buy a home. Had he given the money back when he promised the white collar crime investigators I wouldn't be making this plea today. Had he never stolen any money I wouldn't be making this plea today. But he pushes the abuse and torment to an extent where no alternatives are offered. 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.
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 have NOTHING but the continual cruelty and torment of being homeless.

The fundamental rights of [humanity] are, first: the right of habitation; second, the right to move freely; third, the right to the soil and subsoil, and to the use of it; fourth, the right of freedom of labor and of exchange; fifth, the right to justice; sixth, the right to live within a natural national organization; and seventh, the right to education. ~ Albert Schweitzer

The Pain Truth

Last night was an awful restless night. I remained so ill all I could manage to do was drift in and out of sleep, and by 3 am I could no longer find any relief in bed. I got up and sat on the edge of the bed unable to sleep, yet unable to wake up either.
I can't even count the times I have read that damp doesn't effect bone joints, but you couldn't prove it by me. The damp and mold inside the shed is stifling. The smell simply awful. And the cold almost crippling. The migraine that turned into a monster of gigantic proportion yesterday had subsided to a dull throb, but my stomach was still on a roller coaster ride somewhere.

Just sitting on the side of the bed gave me the time to try and digest conversations I missed yesterday. Two weeks before the racetrack closes? Time has simply flown. This time last year I was so excited thinking that I would have a beaten up single wide to live in before winter. The year before that I was begging for help to try and find a modular or get a roof put on the barn. This year? I have no hope at all. No expectations. I'm too tired, depressed and ill to dare have any hope anymore.

No-one has ever explained to me what happens after you give up daring to have hope.


I spent the afternoon trying to find anything that would come with owner-financing, but with no credit bank financing isn't an option. I still don't even know if I have enough finances to get the electricity working. For the money Robert Huckins stole I could have a gorgeous one story wooden cabin - and have it before the winter weather arrives. But I have been begging for that to materialize since 2008.

I am terrified of spending one more winter homeless.. just mortified. All of this pain, all of this suffering, this cruelty, all of this inhumanity.. for greed.

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 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.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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.

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

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.

Moral excellence comes about as a result of habit. We become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts. ~Aristotle

This Strange Creature Called Stress

I woke up early and felt alright. Until I walked into the corral to feed "No-Name" at sunrise and a migraine shot across my eyes. Within seconds I was violently ill. By dragging myself back to bed after taking medication I managed to decrease the pain to a tolerable level, but I don't understand this pain and stress that appears out of nowhere.With so much scheduled today I decided to go to Nogal before 10 am - just in case I became so incapacitated I wouldn't be able to do anything later on.

I can't even remember speaking with Jan. I was so ill I can remember repeating several things over and over, commenting about how fast the summer has gone and how scared I am of not being able to get into a home, until I realized that the only thing I could do was return to the shed while I was able to point the truck in a specific direct.
By the time I got back to Alto I could barely see, become nauseous and chest pains had started. I went to bed and didn't wake up until after 5 pm.On the way back from Nogal I passed my land, and the barn and single wide, and tears ran down my face until I fell asleep. Life shouldn't be this much fun. It really shouldn't.

By 7.30 pm the thunder started and the rain clouds came over the Sierra Blanca, and it started pouring. We are under a flash flood warning until midnight. We need rain but I am so tired of shoveling mud and sleeping on muddy sheet and blankets. This has been a really bad day and all I want is my home... my life.. my family and my career.

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 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.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi 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.

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. The list just goes on and on and on.

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.

Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent. ~Jonathan Swift

How Long Will This Go On?

Today turned into fabulous morning. The weather was gorgeous, and I felt well enough to put some elbow grease into some chores I should have done quite a while ago. But the stress over the barn and single wide continues ...
If I could just find an electrician perhaps I could afford to get the electricity turned on before winter arrives in earnest. But actually having a home before the weather turns, bar a miracle, is looking slimmer and slimmer.
I don't want to be outside for another winter. I just can't physically or emotionally handle anymore.

I was pretty sad to hear that Joe Dunlap had died. Years ago I bred one of his mares to my senior stallion, and he kept that foal for many, many years. His death motivated my boss and I to have a lengthy conversation about how quickly time goes by, and how soon life is over.
Life is too short. Too short for the misery caused by this nonsense.

Joe K. Dunlap ( October 1st, 1933-August 10th, 2011)
Joe K. Dunlap passed away Aug. 10th. 2011 at Lubbock, TX. He was a
resident of Glencoe, NM where he resided with his wife Merle Ashcraft
Dunlap.

He was proceeded in death by his Father, R.K. Dunlap, his first wife, Carol,
daughter Lori Odom, and son Larry.

Joe served his country in the U.S. Army during the Korean Conflict. He was
an officer with the Albuquerque Police dept. prior to joining the NM Dept.
of Game and Fish where he was stationed in Espa?ola, Truth or Consequences,
and Roswell, NM. While in TorC, as a Conservation Officer with the Game
Dept., Joe's area covered all of Sierra Co. West to the Continental Divide,
East to the White Sands Missile Range, North to the San Mateo Mts., and South
to Do?a Ana Co. Including both lakes.

Joe also served as a deputy sheriff with the Chaves Co. Sheriff's Office before
becoming a full-time artist which he practiced the rest of his life. He was featured
in several one-man shows and his art has hung in several prominent galleries.
Joe studied with the late John Meigs and was a close associate of the late Peter
and Henriette Wyeth Hurd and Peter and Carol Rogers of San Patricio, NM

Joe is survived by his wife Merle Ashcraft Dunlap, Mother Mildred Dunlap,
Sisters Jacqueline Calkins and Marian Thornton, Brothers John, Robert, and Royce"Lucky" Dunlap, two children, son Bill of the Ruidoso Downs PD, and
daughter Traci of Deming, NM, several Grandchildren and Great Grand
Children, along with many cousins, nieces and nephews.

Joe was well liked and respected by many residents throughout the state and
will be missed by all for his stories, his art and his love of horses.

Graveside services will be conducted at the family cemetery at his home in
Glencoe, NM Saturday, Aug. 13th, 2011 at 10:00a.m.

After noon the sky started to darken, and lightening strikes lit up the sky. It wasn't long before the rain started coming down like cats and dogs, flooding everything in it's path. There was so much water & mud going through this shed all I could do was start crying as I watched all the boxes of my belongings get soaked - again. Then the flies converged on the shed looking for a dry place to do whatever flies do. I thought I was going to lose my mind.

At TR's store Denise asked me if I had managed to get my building fund back. It's so rare that anyone even remembers that I am homeless that her inquiry was seriously appreciated.
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever find anyone who cares. Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, Michael Huckins, Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) Anyone who may know where our building fund is hidden, or anyone who may help retrieve it. I am praying that one of you can speak to your cousin, brother, son and appeal to him to return the building fund he stole from us.
While it was 24 degrees below zero outside you were all in warm homes. I was outside with no heat.
While your lives have gone on uninterrupted.
While your lives have gone on as normal, my family, my career, our lives have been irreparably shattered. I have not been able to see my mother since she came to Ruidoso to buy a home in 2007.
Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.
We have tried every means to go on without the stolen money. But we can't obtain a home and restore our family unless it is returned. I implore, I beg as I have never begged before, I am begging for mercy. Please get Robert Huckins to return what wasn't his to steal. What was our legal property. What we desperately needed to put a roof over our heads. To have a home. No-one should be so cruel and callous to steal someone's home and leave women homeless and desperate.
My passionate sense of social justice and social responsibility has always contrasted oddly with my pronounced lack of need for direct contact with other human beings and human communities.~Albert Einstein

Autumn Prelude

There was such a change in the weather during the night that I woke up to autumn this morning. Damp, chilly, overcast.. with a real "nip" in the air. There was something so forlorn about it. More than a little sad, and it had a gut wrenching effect on me - as though my stomach had been tied in knots with fear. The absolute terror that yesterday wasn't simply a cloudy cool day mid-summer, but winter truly is quickly approaching.

As I fed "no-name" at sunrise I became so stressed by that reality that a migraine shot across my eyes and the nausea started.I couldn't explain to anyone how scared I am. What happened to my life and at what point did I stop being a human being?The whole world is in chaos as economies plummet, and I have spent over 3 years begging for a chance to survive and have life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Yet somehow I turned into a none existent human being. And now I face another winter homeless, knowing that this one I may not survive. This is such senseless abuse and cruelty.

I had to take migraine medication and go back to bed for an hour to try and get the illness under control, but I still felt deathly ill all day. En route to Ruidoso for some things for my boss the sky opened up and torrential rains came. I should have known that the shed would be under water when I got back, so I ended up having to shovel mud away from the door and fight the flies. Mop up the water coming in around the bed. The bedclothes are still covered in mud but to be honest I just don't have the energy to strip a bed for the 3rd time in a week.

If crime doesn't pay why are Robert and Sylve Huckins living in a comfortable home on someone else's dime?

Again I appeal to the Huckins family members I am aware of, Malcolm Huckins, Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins. ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) What happened to Dorothy McKeever was inexcusable, and not one person would speak up for her. What happened to myself and my family no different. The difference between Dorothy and I is that I will not allow myself to die a victim. I will keep fighting for what is mine, what is my mothers, what is needed for us to survive. And that is the home we bought and paid for.

Your brother, cousin, son, Robert Huckins, stole our building fund. He walked out of the Wells Fargo Bank on Sudderth Drive with $110,000 DAYS before the White Collar Crime investigators, for the State of New Mexico, demanded that he repay ALL of our building fund back within a 30 day period. The money disappeared into thin air, even though days later he was recorded in a deposition admitting that he had the money, adding that he didn't need 30 days to repay the money back, he could pay it back in less time.

Officer John Barnes of the state police was present during that deposition. Someone knows where our building fund is. And the people who know where it is are perfectly aware of the damage they are doing. There was much, much money collected from numerous victims than the amount of money recorded in this particular withdrawal from the Wells Fargo bank. And it wasn't spent on contracted jobs, because almost all employees and subcontractors were given hot checks. A number so large in dollar amount and numbers that it was impossible to account for them all.


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 can't physically go on being homeless and I want to see my mother. Every single method any human being could try to circumvent the loss of the stolen money failed. I cannot get into a home without it. The 12th District Courts described this damage as "grievous." I would call it far more. Abuse above and beyond what any woman should be subjected to, let alone a victim of crime. I implore you, ;literally beg you, to intervene and make your brother, cousin, son, return ALL of the building fund that he stole so that we can have what you all have... a home. We have paid for a home many, many times over both in finances and pain & suffering due to this continued this cruelty. I will keep asking every single day until the day I die, because I am so desperate and winter is coming down on me far too fast.

Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe. ~Frederick Douglass