A quick poem

I'm no poet, but this came to me today.

The Trooper
I remember that cold night,
When I shot that young man down,
I can see it so clearly, I thought with a frown.
When asked to empty his pockets,
I thought he reached for a knife,
Sadly for him, I feared for my life.
For in his pocket, so close and so handy,
In his dying hand I saw, he held a bag of candy.

Linda Wheeler

Snow

We got a nice coating of snow overnight.  This winter has not been very conducive for snow!  Hey that is a big word.. lol.  I remember in my youth, before all this global warming crap, we would get real winters!  At least 4 feet of snow on the ground, that stayed until spring.  A big snow would always excite us because we hoped to get the day off school.  Unfortunately, living in the North East and having bus drivers that probably train in Antarctica, school doesn't close often up here.  One year, our bus did slide off the road into a ditch.  I guess my stepfather was working for the county at the time, because he happened across the bus while plowing and got us out.  Maybe he just had a truck, I don't know.  All I remember is being on the bus in the ditch and seeing him coming to help.  I remember bragging to the other kids that he was my stepfather.  I must have still been in the hero worship phase back then!  
As we got older, snow wasn't so much fun.  As soon as breakfast was over, we got bundled up and headed out to shovel snow.  The asshole had a plow, but he would sit in the house, nice and warm while he had his little army of slaves shoveling.  We shoveled all day.  We shoveled paths, driveways, in front of the garage and cellar.  He said he needed all this done, in case he decided to walk somewhere.  We had learned at that stage that there was no refusal.  We dared not back talk or whine like todays kids.  That would have earned us a nice, hard spanking.  
We did get to play in the snow at times.  We had those cheap little plastic sleds that look like sheets.  We had a saucer once in a while and also an old toboggan that we didn't use much.  We would make snow angels and snowmen.  One year, my sister built me into a snowman.  I'll have a photo, but can't find it right now.

Telling my life story

Reading a friend's blog has given me the courage to begin writing about my own life.  Things won't be in order of occurrence, just as I remember them.  
I did not have an easy childhood and it shaped my  life as an adult and still effects me today.  I grew up introverted, shy and fearful.  I made a lot of bad choices with men that I believe can be traced to longing for a father figure or someone to show me attention and love.  
I was born to a poor couple.  My sister is 2 1/2 years older than I am.  When I was born, we were living in what was basically a shack in the rural countryside.  My mother will tell me stories about how there was no running water, and an extension cord running to the neighbors house to run one light bulb.  I remember when my father dug our well.  I can remember looking down into the very deep hole.  Someone has a photo of my sister in the hole with my Dad.  
I don't remember much about living there.  I remember playing with the boy next door with my sister.  We had a cat named Luggy, short for "Lug-nuts"!  He was a large, black and white cat.  I remember one time, us children must have really been putting my Mom through the wringer because she sent us to our room with the "wait till your father gets home" warning.  I remember waiting and the dread of it.  Dad had us all come out in order of age for a spanking.  I don't remember the actual spanking much though.  
My parents divorced when I was probably 4.  I remember us moving into a man's house.  His name was Richard M.  We called him Dick.  Turned out to be an appropriate name!  
My Mom said Dad was having an affair with Dick's wife, Jane and was wanting to move her into our house!  She wasn't haven't that so she left.  Having no skills, no car and no place to go, we moved in with Dick.  So basically it was a real life Wife Swap.  I don't think there were social service programs back then for single parents, so my Mom did what she felt was the best thing.  
The housing situation wasn't much improved.  We lived in an old metal trailer with an addition on it.  The addition was the living room and adult bedroom upstairs.  
I remember the day my Mom married Dick.  We were at home waiting for them to get back and my Aunt (I think) had set up a surprise party.  I remember hiding and jumping out, yelling "Surprise"!  
Dick was fun when we first moved in.  I remember one morning it had snowed overnight.  When we got up, he grabbed us, still in our pajamas and was pretending he was going to throw us out into the snow!  
I don't remember when he changed.  He became like a dictator and would punish us severely for any infraction.  He used mental torture as well as physical.  I will get into that later on.
My Mom felt trapped there with us.  She hated seeing us being treated so badly, but she felt like there was no other recourse.  No place to go.  
This new house was on four acres of land.  It had a stream running through the back yard and woods beyond that.  There was a large open area covering most of the property.  There was a garage and a sawmill.  I don't remember if the sawmill was already on the property or if it was built later.  
I grew up as a child of nature.  I loved to explore and examine life in all it's forms.  Insects, worms, birds, chipmunks, flowers, trees, etc..  Being in the woods was a sense of escape for me.  We could hide from the all seeing eye of Dick while in the woods.  
I learned to fish in a rudimentary way in the creek out back.  It held native Brook trout and while small, they were fun to catch.  My method involved waiting for a bite and then yanking up and over.  If I did catch a fish, it sometimes would end up in a tree!  
There was one part of the stream that had a large rock and a log as a bridge.  I would lay there and watch the trout.  They had a big pool there and the large trout would congregate.  I would put my hand in the water and ever so slowly move it up to where the fish were.  I could gently touch the trout after a while, if my hand didn't go numb first from the freezing water.
Anyhow, I think writing about my life will be lengthy.  I may arrange it by subject instead of historically.  I can give an estimate of my age when these things happened.  This photo was taken at Dick's house when I was little.  I think I may have been 4 or 5.  First row seated is me on the left, my cousin, Angie and then my brother, Richie.
Back row is cousin Beth, my sister, Brenda, cousin Barbara, Cousin Kathy, and cousin John.  

Happy 2019

2019 is here and I'm wondering if this year will be a boring repeat of last year.  I've been tossing around the idea of becoming a Workaway volunteer.  Basically it involves staying with people and helping them out with various projects and getting a free place to stay.  It usually involves free meals as well.  Most places ask for 20-25 hours of work a week, but it appears that may be the minimum at some places.  If there is work to be done, you are probably expected to help out.  With my back, I don't know if that is feasible.  Most workaway volunteers seem to be young, healthy college age kids.  I may have a solution for the house while I am gone (if), but it can be a double edged sword.  Rich (my husband), is in rehab at Conifer Park and will be getting out soon with no prospective place to live.  I tried having him back a couple months ago and I was ready to pull my hair out.  I think a lot of that was the fact that I felt I had to try and reestablish our relationship and entertain him while he was here.  If he comes back, I will keep it as a room-mate situation.  He will need to respect my solitude.  I also will have to get him off my bank account for good.  Another issue is the fact that he will not be able to pay all the bills for the house, if he wants to keep the nice things like internet.  He also does not have a vehicle and will be stranded if I leave with the car.  So, I may end up having to contribute to the household bills even when I am not there.  I don't have a problem with that, considering he is "holding my spot".  Of course, he might decline the invitation all together.  
The idea I have come up with is scary but exciting at the same time.  I fear the income loss with my job and the medical issues that may come up while I am gone.  I also fear having to come back and being stuck with Rich!  I think I would rather just give him the house and live in my car!

I can no longer ignore the bowel issues I have been dealing with.  A trip to the ER confirmed that fact.  They could find nothing wrong, but I am thinking it is intestinal related.  My pancreatic enzymes are still low, but for some reason, my Dr. office seems to think that is ok.  I think some of my issues are related to my body not being able to metabolize certain foods.  It is rebelling!  

My crocheting has been coming along nicely.  I can make a decent hat now.  I made a store on Etsy, but without being a known seller, I think it will be difficult to get established on there.  Novelty hats seem to be quite popular, so I need to learn how to make those.
Not much else going on in my life at the moment.  I am either at a crossroads, or stuck in a rut.