I don't do political diaries. I generally don't think I'm qualified enough. Kosability is more my style and I've done some for them. But I think I have a point I haven't seen diaried about Romney and I'd like to check it out with you guys. This will be short. Please follow me after the kos squiggle.
Navajo recently had a NEW DAY diary asking how old we were and what ago we would be if we could be any age. I answered I am sixty-eight and if I could be any age, in a heartbeat I would choose to be thirty-six. I explained it was because I lived in Florence, Italy, had a gorgous twenty-four year old boyfriend, lived in a house built in 1296 with beautiful architecture and had lots of friends from various countries as friends and inspirations. One person who read my comment wrote back in a comment that she wanted to be twenty-six and me! Two others added in comments that I might like to write a diary expanding on that time in Florence. Please follow below the kos squiggly if you, too, would like to read more.
It was March 4, 1966. I was a young, twenty-two year old recently divorced mother of a four year old. I worked in Atlanta, Ga at a moving company. We had an office inside a large warehouse that was full of furniture being readied to be moved. We had approximately twelve workers employed there. None were there at ten to nine on March 4, 1966. I had a boss who wasn't there at ten to nine on March 4, 1966. I was there alone, and, not being busy, was reading "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. It was the worst possible book I could have been reading at the moment. It was a true story and the two killers in the book had just locked a couple of family members in the bathroom before they killed them.
Our family right now has a world of trouble and perhaps someone here in Kosland can help. I wrote a diary a few weeks ago as we couldn't pay our bills and everything was fixing to be turned off, we didn't have money for food, etc. I live with my disabled fifty year old daughter and her husband, fifty-six. I have custody of my nine year old grandson as he was abused and starved by his mother and step-father. We also are in the process of getting permanent custody of a sixteen year old foster child who was terribly abused by her mother. My sil drove an over the road big truck, which needed a new transmission and clutch a few months ago to the tune of eight thousand two hundred dollars, and he was out of work for a month while we got the money together and they fixed it. Two weeks back on the road and the truck had another mechanical problem, which we can't afford to fix this time.
I. hate. doing. this. I am sad and scared and embarrassed and don't want to do this and can think of no other choice. I need help. Very much so. I wrote a diary on the eighteenth pleading for help and Kossacks responded beautifully. We were able to pay our water and electric bills. We were able to buy groceries and school clothes. We were on cloud nine and then our transmisson went up and we have no car and no money.
A few days ago I wrote a diary titled A Plea for Help as my family and I were drowning financially and were about to lose our car, not have food to eat, have our utilities cut off and have no way to get school supplies for our nine year old and sixteen year old foster child. All kinds of Kossacks - from those obviously well off to those strugging as well answered that plea for help and I have wonderful news to report. We were able to pay our almost five hundred dollar electricity bill so it won't be cut off, likewise an over a hundred dollar water bill. We had to pawn our car a few months ago and were able to make a payment and ut an extra fifty dollars on it, so hopefully we will be able to keep up the payments. We have filled our refrigertor and cabinets so our children will have food. People are sending school supplies for the kids, so we have that to look forward to.
I never thought I would be writing this diary, and I am simply because I am desperate. I live with my fifty year old daughter disabled daughter, and her husband, fifty-five, an over the road trucker. I get $735.00 a month retirement and my daughter's husband used to make a pretty good living. At Christmas time my daughter's employee embezzled five thousand dollars from us and before we could catch up the transmission and clutch had to be replaced on the truck, to the tune of eight thousand five hundred dollars. He was out of work amost two months getting it fixed and was hardly on the road again before another part of the truck went out which we can't afford to replace. We have pawned the big truck for grocery money. My so-in-law got a job driving a dump truck and has had to miss many days due to rain and storms here in
Georgia and we are in terrible finincal trouble. I have custody of my nine year old grandson, Josh, by another daughter, and my daughter and her husband are in the process of adopting a sixteen year old foster child.
The following is an excerpt from my own copywrited material, from my autobiography, racheltracks. I was molested by my uncle, raped by my biological father and robbed and raped by a man with a gun at my head. I am retelling these stories from three chapters in my book. These chapters in the book are not in sequence and when I knew it was time to tell about my uncle, I thought people might be sick of sex stuff, so I decided to tell it this way. The first paragraph in this diary is the last paragraph in the previous chapter.
"We have a very old Florentine street lantern on a table next to the bed. At night we burn a candle in it and transform an ordinary bedroom into a land of magic and fairy tales. I love fairy tales, but not all of them are always so nice. Which reminds me, I haven't told you about my uncle."
KosAbility is a community diary series posted at 5 PM ET every Sunday and Wednesday by volunteer diarists. This is a gathering place for people who are living with disabilities, who love someone with a disability, or who want to know more about the issues surrounding this topic. There are two parts to each diary. First, a volunteer diarist will offer their specific knowledge and insight about a topic they know intimately. Then, readers are invited to comment on what they've read and or ask general questions about disabilities, share something they've learned, tell bad jokes, post photos, or rage about the unfairness of their situation. Our only rule is to be kind; trolls will be spayed or neutered.At the end of this past October I got a cold. Just a cold, plain and simple. How bad could it be? At sixty-seven years of age, I've had plenty of colds that lasted a few days, drink plenty of liquids, rest, and presto, before you know it you can breathe and smell again and food tastes normal. Only this time, I got worse and thought it went in my chest, so after five days, I went to the doctor. He agreed I had a cold, though I sounded chesty. He gave me antibiotics and prednisone to help the healing. Only, I have a leak in my heart - aortic regurgitation - and, unbeknownst to me, I cannot take steroids. I took three prescribed doses on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Monday morning when I awoke I had trouble breathing and figured I just needed more prednisone and took another dose. Please follow below the squiggly to see what happened next.
I actually have two stories concerning abortions, though I've only had one. I'll tell you about my actual abortion first, then I'll fill you in on my second abortion story.
I had four children, was married to a poor starving artist and living in Florence, Italy, when I got pregnant for the seventh time. I had two miscarriages, so this would have been my fifth child had I chosen to let it live. When I got pregnant, abortion was illegal in Italy, but there are always avenues. I was told of an obstetrician who was performing illegal abortions and had been arrested numerous times, but who might just consent to performing an abortion on me.
As it turns out, this doctor, after a few arrests, trials and imprisonments, was instrumental in getting abortion legalized in Italy. He was in the radical party in Italy and had their backing in his pursuits. At one time at least, Italy had the most liberal abortion law in Europe. And I was lucky enough to become great friends with this doctor, who, while he could not help me himself, was able to see I got the abortion I needed. Please follow after the orange squiggly to see the rest of the two stories.
There are many moments and events in my life that circle back on each other and I'm going to try and coherently explain them to you. I was raised the first six years of my life - from 1944 to 1950 in the deep south - Greenville, MS. My sisters were twelve and thirteen years older than me and supposedly I wasn't particularly wanted. Hence, my mother needed a nanny to raise me and who did she find but a wonderful black woman named Bertha. Please follow below the orange squiggle and I will explain the powerful impact Bertha had on me, both when I was young and many years later after we had lost contact.
This diary is late in getting posted. I am sorry, but have been in bad health and tonight is the first I've been able to write much. I am writing to thank two wonderful people - one I know and one I have no idea of whom they are, but they are owed a huge thank you from me.
Kelleyrn2nominated me, much to my surprise, for a lifetime subscription to Daily Kos. She knew that I, at 67, on an income of barely over seven hundred dollars a month and custody of my nine year old grandson, could never afford to splurge for one. As she told me after the fact, we both get by on a wing and a prayer, therefore, she was kind enough to nominate me.
And some unknown and very caring person decided to give me a fantastic present and made one of my dreame come true. I have no idea who you are, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart. The ads really slowed my old, refurbished computer down and now I glide through everything. You are truly an angel and I wish I could repay you some way. If you ever decide to fess up and let me know who you are, you know how to reach me.
So you know why I'm late writing this is that on October 30, I almost died and I'm still recuperating. I was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia and congestive heart failure. I was not able to get oxygen in and felt like I was drowning. When the ambulance came, my blood pressure was 256/158 and my pulse/oxygen was 61%. My lungs and heart were filled with water and my extremities were numb from lack of oxygen. Was in ICU for five days, and, fortunately, I'm still here. Still tired and weak, but am recuperating rather well.
So thank you again my lovely Kelley and my lovely benefactor and may ya'll's holidays be everything you wish.
And please people, please give gift subscriptions if you can afford it and care to. And I don't know if this is okay or not, but if Aarujo doesn't have a gift subscription yet, I do so hope some one will gift him one. Happy Holidays to everyone and may all your dreams come true. Or at least a lot of them.
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