At around 0700, I awoke, carefully limped upstairs without waking up Mom, and proceeded to scan Dad’s last diary year 1984. I finished around 0802, and continued to scan current documents. So now I can relax and process at least one batch of photos daily while catching up on daily chores, blogging, and caring for my family – two elderly farts and two overweight parakeets.
While Mom gets her blood works, I’m waiting by lying down in the car and blogging.
20151130-1050. Yesterday after Clem hung inappropriately his thick jacket upon the banister of the conductor stage, the mother told me that the audience would think and she made a basic human emotional response of disgust with her face. I see the apparent demonic presentation through her downturned and puckered or knitted eyebrows. Gloria S had eyebrows that were demonic. It stopped for awhile. Then it started again. Yesterday a small child fell between the pews located immediately in front of the cry room. I looked left and looked straight ahead at the usher. He looked. This time the crazy bitch living next door to us didn’t serve holy communion. Last week she served as I saw her in the third pew, center. She looked quickly left but the children, people wouldn’t budge. She quickly left to the right to serve the cup, maybe because others already positioned for the wafers. Crazy bitch from demonic hell.
20151130-0906. Two days ago, at around 4:19 pm while scanning Dad’s diaries, I had an incoming thought – no hope for the hopeless. I was thinking of stupid and crazy humans.
20151130-0859. Dad mentioned yesterday’s sermon by Father Jonathan. In order to be humble, must be humiliated. Below is an example of humility from and by demonic presence at Saint Victors.
Yesterday, I took holy communion from Father Mark but saw Connie scoot quickly to the Thelma side
However, en route slowly (with a large gap between Jasmine in front of me fire to my right ankle pain recovery) down the side aisle, from the choir box, and past the cry room, and past the side for intersection, I heard an usher laugh loudly. He was standing at the side door. I reported that incident to mom hours later. She said there are too many weirdos at Saint Victor.
20151126-0823. While waiting for morning mass to conclude, I had a poem: “Only in your head, thoughts words, deeds, you said, until death the bed.”
20151125. Well Mom’s shopping cart didn’t roll smoothly. I tried Mom’s other medical equipment, the wheelchair transporter. Unfortunately, my fatness shredded the whitish foam wheels! The shredded material was all over the wooden floor. So I tried Dad’s black cart, the kind that y’all would see in restaurants serving dim-sum. That worked for awhile until I was able to put weight on my sprained right ankle.
20151124-1235. Dark shadow left view. When my mind is overworked and I’m feeling tired, my eyes register movement outta the corner at night.
20151123-1357. The females at our local FedEx Kinkos (off Brokaw Rd) failed to let us know that we’d needed to declare the donation of medical equipment and to provide an import license, which I had no idea. We ended up paying over twenty dollars for the taped up box and stuffings that didn’t get shipped! They’re fired! Thank you.
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