"mobile homes"

I'm going to see " trailer trash- the musical" this weekend. It should be a hoot. I never minded living in a mobile home back in the 70's (five years when I lived in Michigan). I saved enough money for a down payment on my first house that way. In fact, many of my neighbors were widowed women. But in Georgia, I must say,trailer parks here are very sketchy and seedy -lots of drugs and many illegal immigrants.I am glad and thankful that we could help Adam get a town house in a nice neighborhood. If he lived in a trailer park, I would have a lot of sleepless nights.

Eutony

Perspicacious, ebullient,sapiosexual, scripturient, Selcouth - aren't these obscure descriptors lovely for their specificity? I wish I could be defined as such, but, at least, my closest friends have these qualities.

Uninspired

I haven 't been blogging because I have felt uninspired. I decided that I would catch up on some of my to- read - books on Kindle, hoping to get some of that inspiration that is eluding me. Reading is good for my soul and mind.

Migraine mind mush

I've had a migraine for two days, and it 's finally gone. If you have never had a migraine,it is quite the uber headache. I see spots, have blurred vision,can't stand light or noise, and I vomit. My sister has migraines so bad that she has a presription for shots. I'm not at that point I suppose, but I literally can't think or do anything when I have one. Sometimes they will go away in a few hours, but two days seems like an eternity. That is why I haven't been blogging.

Misunderstood....

When I send email photos, graphics, jokes, etc.to people, I only send them to people I actually like, love, care about. I recently sent a message to a couple of friends that read:
"My memory misses you.It thinks about you all the time." I thought it was a lovely sentiment, showing that I miss these individuals.Well, I was told by one that, " she didn't like being a memory and was that all she was to me anymore?" I apologized for the misunderstanding and tried to explain my rationale for sending it. She would prefer emails in my own words. OK, I hear that. If any of you feel that same way, please let me know.I never have had the intention of hurting someone 's feelings, and if I have, I'm sorry.

Rof B - PO Box 1217, part two

The seedy motel did not have any cameras. Pauline made sure of that weeks ago. The old stained bathtub was filled and they placed the unconscious naked boy in the water. Using the switchblade,Sharon cut deep lines in the boy's wrists.The knife dropped into the bloody water, and Atilla's body was half submersed.Atila's clothes were rumpled on the floor, and he had fake ID in one of his pockets, along with about $70 which they left alone. He never regained consciousness. Alina checked for a pulse a little while later,and there wasn't one.It will appear to be a suicide. The quartet left the truck and its contents for the police to investigate. Alina had almost vomited when she looked under the tarp.Three dead, decomposing infants.What the hell? The four women have not been told the reasons behind Jill's project choices, but so far,discovering Phyrrus' pedophilia, Sexton's massive fraud,and Atila's infanticide is enough. The ladies leave very quietly around 4 am, and once in the car pull off their latex gloves which they have worn since midnight. They pick up Alina's car at the theater, and then they go have breakfast at the same Waffle House where Atila was earlier. They are all hungry.They discover that they all like rare steak. Another job finished, they will sleep well tonight.

R of B - PO Box 1217, part 1

Myrtle and Pauline aren't sure that they can kill a kid, even though he isn't a child per se.Len Atila is 14, homeless and elusive. Jill had told them it would be a crap shoot, but with no known address, they take turns watching the post office box, through binoculars.12 days go by, and nobody shows up to open box 1217, but just about 7pm on day 12, a hooded young guy wearing sunglasses takes out a stack of mail from the box and heads back outside and gets into a beat up, old ,red, Ford 150 truck. Nobody else is in the vehicle, and the male takes off his hood and glasses and sits reading his mail.He looks like the photo they have of Atila. Pauline drives, and they follow the truck, while Myrtle writes down the license plate number. The next stop is Waffle House,and they watch him closely as he sits at the fairly full counter and orders a coke and waffle.After eating ,he uses the bathroom, comes outside and looks like he is going to take a nap.In another 45 minutes, he wakes up and gets on the road again. Driving to a Walmart not far away,the alleged Atila parks the truck and goes inside. It is about 10 pm. Myrtle grabs a cart and heads for the Ford.Nothing is out of the ordinary in the back of the truck, but on the front passenger side there is a tarp on the floor with something wrapped in it. The doors are locked,so she heads back to the car, and they wait some more. Much later, the young male emerges and smokes a couple cigarettes. He has not been in a hurry to do anything, and sits there for quite a while.Myrtle calls Sharon and catches her up on the evening's events. Sharon and Alina are ready to meet them and take the next step, but where and when are still question marks.His next stop is the movie theater.He buys a ticket for one of the Midnight shows. Myrtle calls and gets Sharon and Alina to meet them at the cinema parking lot. Time lapses, more waiting.The evening has felt like an eternity. When Atilla comes out, Alina is leaning against his truck crying and tells him her boyfriend took off with her phone and car.Atila suggests that she get into his truck, and he'll take her home. At that moment the rest of the quartet jumps on him, and Sharon administers Etorphine, knocking him out almost immediately.They drive the truck and car to a nearby, run down, hourly motel , and Myrtle gets into an unoccupied room without any problems and without checking in.