I just discovered something. There isn't any difference between calling this a blog or calling it a journal. No one reads anything you write about so it is a public journal of sorts. That is O.K. with me.
I am going to add GRANDMA STRANGE'S RAGS on for display & for sale tonight. This is kind of like talking to yourself on paper. It is better than writing in a journal because I like the click, click, click of the keys on the board. It sure looks better when you are finished writing. Yes, this blog thing might be good.
Something has been bothering me today & I do not know the reason. If you have read any of my postings I mention the fact that I was raised by wolves. I do that because my childhood was dreadful & abusive in ways that people find very difficult to believe. I am sixty one years old so it doesn't live with me as it once did. Today I actually have a headache from it. That is what made me think of coming here to write about it.
I think the dark, cloudy weather has something to do with it. The bad weather brings out bad memories for some reason. There were four of us kids in the family. Why do people say "were" instead of "are"? We're still here. I am the oldest. I have a sister one year younger than me & my two brothers are two & three years younger than me. Quite a close family you could say. It was close in age only & the fact that Wolf mother was Catholic. Wolf male did not have any religion, except his own that he made up as he went.
This particular day that will not leave my mind today was when we were in junior high. My youngest brother was always in trouble for something. He got into a fight with another kid & was suspended from riding the school bus for two days. My brother was not a bad kid. He wasn't born that way.
I had no idea what was going on in the house when I returned home that day. It was very quiet, too quiet. Everyone was in their own bedroom. I went to my room & a few minutes later mother wolf returned from work. Father wolf came out of their bedroom & ordered her to make some coffee. Before she even removed her coat she started running water for his coffee. He watched her carefully measure the scoops of coffee into the pot. If it wasn't perfect, she would have to put it all back in the cannister & start over again. The water for the coffee had to be the right temperature coming out of the faucet or that would have to stop & start several times. Preparing coffee in this demented house could take some time. Don't you dare drink out of someone's glass or cup either. That could get you a black eye for sure.
When he was satisfied with her work he told her to sit down in her chair. We all had designated kitchen chairs to sit in. Just like the three bears, only different. It was very, very different. A bit of sarcasim helps some times.
The wolf father told her she had better look at her youngest son because he doesn't think he will be able to attend school for a few days. "Uh Oh......"! was my first thought while I was eavesdropping in the hallway. I went toward my brother's room & my sister stopped me. She told me we had orders not to enter his room. Yeah, right. I turned on the light & entered with the female wolf behind me.
My brother was laying in a pile on the floor. He wore glasses & the glasses were still on his face. The nose piece was broke in half & the glass in both frames were actually shattered. He had blood smeared every where. Blood was still trickling out one ear. He was laying there staring off into space. At first I truly thought he was dead. His face had already swelled which made the cuts look worse. His lips actually appeared to be one huge lip. His eyes were turning black under the broken glasses. There were even scratches on his face. The male wolf never cut his finger nails or toe nails. The female wolf had to do it for him. She wasn't doing her job.
Wolf female took one look at her son laying there, inhaled a big sigh & started toward him. The male wolf yelled at her to back away & let him lay there where he deserved. She actually sighed again & walked away.
I can't write any more about it right now.
I had a totally different title when I started this posting. As I was writing I found out why I was so haunted today by this childhood memory. I was watching CNN & they were talking about the no spanking law. They were arguing the pros & cons. I wish I could argue that with them.
I wonder if it passed. I hope it did.