January 5, 2019:


Hell Trip. Miserable week, or decade, or however long it was.

The parental unit was hospitalized: surgery for phlebitis. So the child that was me was packed off to the care of the grandparent, and her gruffass I'm-a-fisherman husband.

Horrific food, the burned-black country cuisine which was her technique. Horrific company, extreme boredom, humiliation in the eyes of a pretty girl I'd befriended, culminating in a bed-wetting episode which makes perfect sense under the circumstances. 'Cos, how many means of protest were there, realistically?

Five years old ish. With a camera.