It was not that long ago when the cold weather was something I feared. And rain. As well as the blistering hot sun and humid air of the summer. I lived and slept outside. Some days and nights there would be people – strangers that would take me in for a night a two; sometimes they would keep me for a week. Sometimes it was a good thing. Sometimes it wasn’t.

Food was something I did not think about. Nor was it something I really wanted. My mind was focused on putting something else in my body.

It was hard times. I lived hard and bad with hate and frustration in my heart.

For all those that know those feelings, knowing when to put them away is essential to recovery. Another important fact is recognizing the many miracles and gifts a full life has.

Is my life full?

It is full enough for me not to be fooled into thinking my heart and life and memories should not be shared?

True Story: once upon an October evening, as a man is pondering and weary, before turning off the light of his library, he looks around his “great” room – his pride, his collection of books and memorabilia. The year before, the man owned three books… now, there is a library.

(His own collection of writings was published, and THAT book is one in the multitude on his shelves.)

Jack o’ lanterns smile there glowing, gapping smiles with fire for eyes; skeletons dance to a merry melody, as winds chill the night air, and witches fly through the night…

What A Life!

To be warm in the orange glow of my cabin.

I have stuck up my middle finger to REAL monsters that scream in the night.

I know they are still out there. Still selling the poisons turning many into ghosts and ghouls and shivering goblins.