Manderley

Dear Hearts,

“Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” Rebecca

Always when I dream of being in Manderley (England) I find a religious-nirvana-experience of peace deep in my Soul. My Heart’s Home.

Last night, I dreamt went to England again. I was anxious, frustrated, and out-of-place.

Where Do I belong?

Where Is Home?

God? Christ?

Who Am I?

What Do I Want To Do?

I am a wondering ship looking for the Light House.

“And Grace will lead me Home.” Please, God, ‘cuz I don’t feel like I belong anywhere.

Mother Mary—Thank You.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: What does a compliment or two or three cost you? I complimented a cowboy on his boots and hat and a woman on her Coach bag. That can turn someone’s day—I know.

PPS: If Hillary were President-Elect and Trumpeters were protesting and rioting, they would be hanged (yes, pictures are hung; people are hanged) on the nearest gallows. The media would be decrying the Trump Protesters as ignorant, racist, and evil. Ok, so the White Vote put Trump in office. So? What’s your point?

PPPS: My favorite book...Rebecca