I have been thinking of Grandma L all four feet 10 inches of her and a few things of her life. I have thought of what she has told me as well as what I have been told. I have thought of time when her house was being broken into.

It was in the early eighties, she lived in downtown Prescott Arizona, in a house a block away from a big drug dealer and she locked her doors but didn't have a dead-bolted door. It was about midnight, she heard a noise in the living room, she got up to see what made the noise. Before she left her room she grabbed a hat pin. The unusually long hatpin grasped in her hand she opened the door to the living room. There was a man going through her desk drawers. She yelled at him and he jumped up and ran toward the back door. This was perfect because to get to the back door one had to run through the kitchen. My grandma in hot pursuit chased him. As she went through the kitchen she grabbed her twelve inch cast iron frying pan. Out the back door she went after him. Though the yard and into the alley. The man was 15 to 20 feet from her and she chucked the frying pan at him (keep in mind she was at this time in her 60's) and hit him on the leg.

He went down onto the asphalt and she (almost jumping) sat right down on him, grabbed her hatpin she was still carrying, and yelled for help.

One of her neighbors heard the shouting and called the cops. When they arrived 5+ minutes later she was still sitting on him AND lecturing him about stealing. "You wouldn't want someone to steal from YOUR grandmother now would you?" She was heard saying. The youth (maybe early 20's) was arrested and taken to the hospital to treat the HUGE welt oh his leg.

When she was told she was a great shot in hitting the guy, her response was, "Good shot?!?! I wasn't that great! I was aiming at his head!!!"

I talked the to officers that checked up on her all the time and they told me about her.

Another time she was walking the 4 miles home from the store with her 3 bags of groceries as well as her purse. A guy tried to grab her bag. With lightning speed she grabbed her trusty hatpin and stabbed the kid in the hand. He dropped her bag and ran right into  a cop turning the corner. She only had dropped one bag of groceries. Nothing was damaged or lost. She only dropped the bag with cans and boxes in it.

This is the grandma that I didn't ever spend much time with. I wish I had been able to live closer to her and know her. I think all of her grand-kids missed out on getting to know her. She lived so far away from everyone and we rarely ever got to visit her. By the time I was an adult she was not there. She had alzheimer's and didn't know anyone. She died when I was 23.

The weather here is too hot for me. I really need to move. I need to get far away from here. Someone suggested that I move where my grandmother used to live....and I would love to. I really would love to that area is not perfect but closer to the temperatures that I like. Even right now it is in the high 80's where here it is in the high 90's to 100's.

There is a poem by AA Milne that I have read to each of the boys at bedtime...

Little boy kneels at the foot of his bed.
Droopes on the little hands little golden head.
Hush! Hush! Whispern who dares
Christoperh Robin is saying his prayers.

the poem goes on....

Every now and again I see my sweet lil W kneeling next to his bed. And most of the time he looks like he is just playing in his room...till the other day.

I peeked in his room and heard that he was talking but not hear the exact words. I knocked at his door, he continued. I knocked again. He held up a finger and kept whispering...

He finally looked at me and I asked, "Why didn't you answer?"

"I was praying" he replied.

"Oh?!?!" I put out there hoping for a bit more but not wanting to pry.

"Mom... ummmm....how long does it take to get a prayer answered?" he asked is his sweet little voice.

"Well, son, sometimes prayers are answered as what we ask for. Sometimes prayer answers are a NO and sometimes it takes a really long time."

"OH" he said sounding really dejected.

"Why my wee little man?" I asked wanting to solve his deep sadness and worry.

"Well I have been praying for that wallet you have told me about. And I have been praying for a house far away from Dad." he answered.

This was so hard what was I to say...."Oh, little lamb of my heart, the wallet is nothing that is real it is something that we have talked about when you boys were wishing for something that isn't a reality...like living on the moon or having a tardis to live in. I mentioned that a wallet would be better than both because it would provide not only a place to live but money to live off of. But it really doesn't exist. And as for living far away from your dad...that will take me being able to get a job and then move. Till then we are here."

His face fell and then he jumped out of my arms and kneeled again. A few minutes went by. I quietly walked out to give him is room.

He came running and jumped on my lamp. "Mom, I appologized to God for confusing him now I am clear. I am now going to pray that you get a house far away and a job that will pay the bills. But most of all i prayed that Dad will get amnesia and forget about us so we dont' have to see him again.

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this is from W. He is his dad's favorite. Tells me a lot of how bad he is. They never have anything good to say about him. They fear him. When he is home they stay in the farthest room from him or just go outside.

I wish this was different. I wish I knew what turned him into such a prick. He used to be fun and easy to get along with. He used to be so good with kids. He is an ass to all kids. In the store he bullies the boys. At home he bullies them. He must feel so little to try and bring them down to his level.

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He won't let me get the passports for them....I think he knows when we get them it will be a while before we come back...once we go we may just keep going and visiting and seeing and exploring and and and....come back much much later....but I don't see that really happening. I do see a visit and then getting a job and living some where far from here.

So many times I sit down to write and nothig comes out. I don't know why it is this way for me recently. I wanted to write about the good and funny things that have happened...nothing.

I tried to write about the crap going on here...nothing.

So I guess I will just write this down. Today D went to the beach. He got to use his snorkle and fins. HE had a blast. At one point he went for a walk. While off he decieded to find out why no one was around this one place....only to find it was a nudist camp. Everyone there was older than me and he eeeped and walked back to where he belonged!

Some days I find it so hard to be here, I wish there was a way that I could walk away and not have to worry about the boys and having to see their dad. I wish that I had the car so I could just drive off into the distant and settle somewhere I could realize home. I struggle to stay within reach of the kids but I am floating and not feeling grounded. So I sat outside in the miserable heat (and it really isn't that hot) and gazed at the strip of water. I was able to breathe a little bit easier and calm down but such a little strip of water doesn't do much to get me centered. I wanted to drive to the water, dig my feet in the sand, and take in the water and let myself ground. I feel like I am not going to come down to earth. I feel like I am so far away from all things....detached. I don't like being detached from the kids and i am becoming so....but just for this minute.

One of these days.....something has to change. Something has to give.

The kids have asked me to do something to earn more money so we can move. I would really love to be able to do that.....just not sure how to go about doing so. I am going to work on it.

I may try doing odd jobs. OR I may get training to work as a home health aide. I will see.....2 ideas that just don't sound so bad. I may end up really liking doing that. I will see.

At 1800 today I took D to go visit his friend at the beach. His friend is camping with a few friends from his church so invited D to come and visit.

It was good to see his friend. He has grown so tall. The Wee little boys played in circles around us as we chatted and then off I went to get the boys fed. D stayed behind and I picked him up at 2200. At that time there was a fire on the beach, and the kids (teens) were all around playing and having a good time. D was able to see his friends. He misses them so much. I wish he would move back and find a place as well as a job. BUT I know that isn't a possibility.

As for my night...I had some good bangers and mash (great actually) I had a good pork pie (a really small one just a few bites the wee little ones ate the rest) AND I got to spend time on the beach by myself witha  fire around me. I really wished I had a good camera so I could capture the image of the night it was almost perfect. The only thing that made it less was I wished I had someone to stand quietly with and talk if we wanted but just to be and be with.

In the first 5 years of my live I lived in 5 different houses. I am told when I was born we lived in Colorado Springs, then when I was about 1 we moved to Salida. In Salida we started by living in the house behind the Rupp's this was the first house on C st. Then we moved to a house on G st. Then we moved to a house on C st. A different house than the first one we lived in.

I don't remember anything about the house on G st. But I do remember moving from there.

I had spent the day playing with DB. We said our "good bye's" and "see you tomorrow's" he going off with his mom and me staying home. We ate dinner, played a little, cleaned up and went to bed. It was shortly after I went to bed (my 2 older brothers as well) my parents decieded to move us. It seems that the local highschool had rented a flat bed trailer and before they turned it back in my parents asked the kids if they would help us move. My dad was really fun, funny and a youth leader that was loved so they all said "Yes!!!"

The kids came over, packed up all our stuff in boxed and loaded on the flat bed. When it came to use kids, my mother in all her wisdom (remember this was the '70's) said, "Pack all the boxes on the outside edges of the trailer and we will put the kids in the middle!! They can go on sleeping and won't know the difference."

I remember a cold chill on my face, seeing the stars and feeling like I was laying on a slant. I sat up, looked around, saw lights and then I noticed my brothers. They were sound asleep so I assumed I was dreaming.  I layed back down and went back to sleep. In the morning I awoke to a new room, new house and boxes all around the place. I woke to find that DB wasn't going to come over that day or any other days that week. I remember being mad about that but being the mostly happy child I was I got over it really fast.

From that point on I only got to see DB a few days a week and then we moved again to go live in a house right off Highway 50.

I know it will come to a surprise to you but just because we are the color we are dosn't mean we are weathier than you are. As a matter of fact...If we were WE sure as damn hell wouldn't be living in this area. We would be living in a much safer area where people like you can't strut, posture and threaten my kids. OH and by the way. I find it funny that the 3 of you, yes you three that stole my son's phone, having to bring 3 more with you. ALL of you are over 20 and still it takes 5 of you to try and threaten ONE 14 year old AND ONE 18 year old. What is funnier is you strut and act all cool but you are nothing more than cowards taht use a kids play ground to make yourselves feel good about yourselves. You go there, bully kids till they leave or even worse start beating up a 10 year old. And with the 4 that were there  you still couldn't keep ONE 18 year old from throwing you off of the kid as the adults in the area started to come over to see what was going on. It is too bad that the one other person that is in this 'hood doesn't start to pay attention to the really important things that need to be attended to...like getting this area safe for little kids from you.

I will suggest the way that will make you feel better about yourselves would be to go out, finish your high school education, get a job and start being nice to little kids.

But until them don't presume that just because we are white means that we MUST have money. What is more, you call my son "Wallet" and yes I heard you say he was "wallet" because he is a walking money bag. The reason he has a little bit of money and you don't....HE WORKS FOR IT. Even though he doesn't have a full time job he does ALL he can so he can have just a bit of money to be able to live.

I really hope you leave the neighborhood and learn to respect yourselves.... Till then.

The BITCH of a MOM!!!

Sigh I really would like to say something like this to those punk 20 years olds that hang around our little playground. But sadly they are carrying guns. So I will keep my mouth shut. I need to stay alive.