Ghost writer/Muse

writes for dirt cheap,

writes for dirt cheap,

My lucky little blacked haired honey,
does not work for no money.
She types for free, and performs mandatory spell-check by
rubbing her entire head even her ears in between my fingers which are busy-
doing everything they can to escape her every wish and demand.

This is my new IT computer tech. She’s new-almost 9 months old,
she is also getting huge.
She is beautiful beyond belief,
but only when she wants to be.
One of her worst habits is the chewing of mail.
but nobody is perfect.
my little muse, my black haired ghost writer with the furry tail.

Trying to make the digital vertical leap:

from free www. wordpress blog to a couple of actual “real” ebooks of arts and poems.

I have begun the grueling process, of attempting to start a fundraising campaign off www. kickstarter. com. I actually already have two manuscripts prepared and organized to be sent off-I just lack the necessary funding to get published.

I am currently unemployed. If the kickstarter campaign fails, I guess I may try to save up money towards random publishing houses, contests. That would be much cheaper anyways, I am just uncertain whether i have an ounce of talent left anymore….I am pushing towards 40. I will be turning 39 in 6 months. Poems are like candy for me, I cannot write only one. They are addictive and egotistical-i assume a lot when i assume that any others dig my word play.

Still waiting on kickstarter/ to verify my bank info-may take up to a week, before i can even submit my project-which they can also always choose to reject. If it gets approved I will post a link. I have been seeing a lot more readers lately on my blog. I can only assume it’s the holidays and you’ve all been drinking. LOL…

yule tide cheer

I just spent at least 3-4 hours baking cookies for my nieces and nephew.I have been with their uncle 12 years now and they have grown up before my eyes. The youngest is almost 16.

I do not know whatever possessed me to start baking. It is not normally my thing. I am entirely wore out now. I made chocolate chip cookies last night, along with peanut butter candies and peanut butter chocolate bars. Today, it was spice cookies from scratch from a recipe i found on It took all day! I started around one o’clock p.m. and did not finish till 4:30.p.m. I guess, i just wanted to do something for them, which would be from me personally. There is a total of 5 nieces and two nephews but, 2 of the nieces and 1 of the nephews we hardly see anymore since their parents got divorced.So I just made cookies for the 4 that i do see. And made a cookie baggie for my younger brother-he’s 30 now, but i still think of him as my baby brother.

Christmas and Thanksgiving are big times for getting my mother in law bummed out. My husbands family and extended family is huge, and she just cannot accept why everybody does not like everyone else. So I am hoping that this year she has a small bit of happiness. She told me, privately, that everybody better come this year because she may not be alive for another Christmas. She says stuff like that a lot-especially to me. She does have some major health issues, a history of heart attacks, a stent, thyroid issues and diabetes 2. She is only 62 though and very prone to being overly dramatic. I suspect she has been suffering for Major Depression, ever since her husband died in 2006. She has survivors guilt big time. She feels guilty that he was the one who passed.Cancer is an ugly beast. Not too much to say. They were married 42 years. She got married young only was 15.She has been a bit lost since his death.I really doubt that this will be her last Christmas.

I tried to tell her, you never know when your time is up.I said you may live another 15 years.I don’t know how to help her-she seems to take pride in being miserable and finding fault with everyone. Still, she has a big and giving heart. She loves her family very much. She is just deep down very sad, that the great love of her life is gone. 

I do not know what to say. It is like the big elephant in the room. He’s gone, and everyone misses him-but they really do not say much. I miss him too. He was my friend.