The desk on the top is the one I concentrate (try to) on my writing. The two piles of papers are two different manuscripts (finished fantasy novels) which I completed back in 2004. It was sort of a test for me to see if I had the drive . . . the craving . . . the "itch" to write. Sufficed to say, I haven’t found anything . . . ANYTHING . . . more enjoyable than writing. Since that time, I have currently switched genres. I find way more satisfaction in writing psychological suspense. The bottom picture shows the computer with the Internet access. Yes, the chair is comfortable. Yes, the lighting is way better than in the other room. Yes, I will obey you . . . my computer master. I. Will. Surf. The. Web. Right. Now. RIGHT NOW!!!
Sometimes, I feel like such a tool.
Okay, time for some other pictures. I want to regal you with this photo gallery to give you some idea of what life was like growing up on the farm, since I just lambasted you with all those childhood stories for the past month.
The top picture is of the backyard. The barn in the background housed the chicken coops on the second floor and the pigs and cows on the bottom floor. The pasture included where the cottage house stands (the white building in front of the barn), the side pasture behind the garage (far left side), and the upper pasture extending past the trees behind the barn. The cement block structure in the yard is the fire pit where my parents burned paper products. They were so cheap. My father would put the garbage he couldn’t burn or recycle or feed to the pigs into the trunk of the car. Then he dumped the bags into the trash receptacles at his job just so he wouldn’t pay a bill for the weekly garbage pick-up. After my father gave up raising livestock, he tore down the fencing (both electrical and otherwise number 8 on the post list) and built the cottage house for my great-grandmother to live in back in ‘92. She was 94 years old at the time and wanted to move from the city (New York - Long Island) but at the last minute she changed her mind. She passed away back in 2003, which would have made her 105 years old. R.I.P great-grandmother Sarah. The cottage is now used for storage space.
The bottom is an old photo, maybe back in ‘86 or ‘87. The person standing in front of the godzilla pine I think is my sister. Or maybe it is me. I can’t tell from the distance. The tree fell over from a storm, roots pulled right out the ground, and way too big to replant without the use of a crane. This picture is only the TOP half of the tree and it shows the property below and to one side of the house.
Top picture is of the tractor I used to subdue the human-biting pig mentioned in two of the "Ten stupid things a kid will do" list. No, that isn’t me in the seat. She is a cousin, or niece, or someone in my extended, extended family. They call the contraption on the back a brush hog. It is used for mowing the grass on the five-acre property, and it’s really fun to ride on when running away from angry bees after I torched their hive. (Go read the story - number 9 on the list.) Oops! Ah, the other photo is a picture of Barbados - a resort island in the Caribbean. My parents take their month-long vacation there in November. Yes, I said MONTH-LONG vacation. Sigh, I wish I could take a vacation. I have never been on one in m entire life, not even a family vacation. My parents were way too cheap to take their kids anywhere. The minute I left the for college they started taking their MONTH-LONG vacations. Did I mention they did this every year for the past eight years? EVERY YEAR for EIGHT YEARS! TOO CHEAP TO TAKE THEIR KIDS ON ONE STUPID VACATION WHEN WE WERE YOUNG! CHEAP! CHEAP! BUT THEY CAN GO ON VACATION! FOR A MONTH! 8 YEARS! TO THE CARIBBEAN!
What? No, I’m not bitter. Why would you think such a thing?
All right, I have one last picture to show you. But only if I can get her to hold still. Cripes! She hates to get her photo taken. Stand still! No! No! Don’t put that Chinese Fan in front of your face just when I snap the picture! Darn you!
Guess who that is. Yeah, me. I don’t know what to do with me. Sometimes I get so quirky I just want to strangle myself. Hiding behind the fan like that just when the picture snapped, how could I? I’m going to give myself a firm talking to after this. Oh, well. You get to see a picture of my finger. This finger is quite amazing. It can type fast when the dams of my mind burst open and all those story ideas come flooding out. Isn’t it a pretty finger? Unfortunately, its tall sibling can get into trouble sometimes. You should have seen what the tall finger did when the driver cut in front of my truck on the highway. I don’t know what to do with that one, or the person it’s attached to.
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