Deb Curreen Author

 I need to stay off "the net"- it gets dark out there, and not, "the darknet", the everyday posts that pop up and up and up, and sometimes bring you down, like "IT" the scary clown. Because there was this post I saw today, it  did quite take my breathe away. There was this lady in a wedding dress,  and in her post this is what she said, "I'm waiting for a bridegroom,  as soon as his wife drops dead; or the casualty of a recent divorce, some lucky chap to fill my bed." Yes, I know my fellow reader, my mouth it fell to the floor, I wish that was the end of it, but sorry,  there was more. The post it was on facebook,  it was public for all the world to see, the lady had tagged a hoard of people, and one of them was me. I don't know why she tagged me, I have no husband, I'm alone, but maybe she thought if she threw it out there, her post would lure some poor guy home. I don't mean to be bitchy, that's not my intention here, but as

 There are guests around my house, popping up in my life, slipping through the cracks, well, what do you think about that? Sitting outside the door,  springing up on the pathways, choking the flowers, smothering the seeds, sucking precious life, and water from their stems. ⚘🥀 Slipping through life, weeds uninvited and not wanted, they are there before you know it, no warning, blimming pests, damnit, they gotta go, they're spoiling the show, and I never asked them to come round here, I can't believe they even dare. (damnit) 💥💦 So I wring their necks, I drag them out,  I kick their butts until they shout, ignoring their cries, I bid them goodbye, tossing their carcasses, on a bonfire that I've made,  and it's very high! For even Jesus warned of those little chokers, he said 'get rid of those interferring blokers'. I'll heed his words, he knows what he's on about, wisdom from above, without a doubt. 💖😇 So weeds are out, life is in. Sunshine welcome and

Dad - 1983 I'm feeling a bit Oirish today, perhaps because I am a little bit; my grandpa was one, an Irishman, and my dad and all his cousins, and all my cousins, on that side, they were Irish too, especially all the ones up North. How we loved one another, precious clan we were and still are, forever and ever. But this is about my da. I never called him that, he was Daddy for a long time, longer than most girls called their dad, daddy, at least not round me, not in public. Then he was MY DAD, big, strong, clever, telling stories..all the time. Mum called it yakking, while we sat in the car, waiting for "your father". He was always my father when she was pissed off, other times he was, "getyourdad", when she needed help. He was, "where's dad", screamed in panic, when I needed help, or just Daaaaad wheeerrrre arrrrrrrre you!? I was always darling to him. Our Father, who art in Heaven, we pray earnestly in times of need. What would dad say to me, I a