Posted onFriday, August 15, 2025|Comments Off on Crazy Woman Just Attacked – No Clue Why or Who She is
Me and Ben just got attacked by a weird crazy woman on Railroad Ave. (The dirt road behind South Street that crosses Main St, Cutts St, and James St). It was around 10:30pm (so pitch black on a street that has no street lights) and i was doing my nightly relearning to walk exercise which i do five times a day, which involves me standing behind my wheelchair and pushing it, to try to regain nerve and muscle function in my legs. so I walk extremely slow. The distance it takes most people to walk in ten minutes, takes me well over two hours to walk that same distance. Most people can walk down Railway Ave and back in under five minutes. It takes me forty five minutes to get to the end and back.
We were at the corner of Main and Railroad Ave, where the tar ends and turns to dirt, and my wheelchair wheel was stuck in the big pot hole that is there and there are no street lights, plus I am legally blind (can only see eight inches, so I can not even see the ground or my feet).
We are both elderly. Ben is 76 and nearly as blind as me, though he has better vision and can see about three feet in front of him, and so Ben wears a headlamp flashlight on his hat, so that he can see to walk at night.
So when Ben turns his head, the light turns in whatever direction he is facing.
I am trying to get the wheelchair unstuck from the pothole and Ben who was a few feet away, turns around and comes back see if I need the light.
We get the wheelchair wheel unstuck from the pothole and continue walking, get almost to the Cutts Street intersection when suddenly a car pulls up, almost hits us, has the front tire inches from Ben’s feet, and a woman started yelling:
“What are you flashlighting me for! You ain’t no police. You ain’t got no business coming on my street and flashlighting me. I own this street. This is my street. You don’t belong here.”
Then she pulls out a cell phone and puts it on a strobe flashlight setting and holds it in Ben’s face, about a quarter inch from hitting his nose and starts yelling:
“How you like it! Is it good for you?”
Ben keeps asking her what is she talking about, but she just started going on repeat saying the same thing all over again:
“What are you flashlighting me for! You ain’t no police. You ain’t got no business coming on my street and flashlighting me. I own this street. This is my street. You don’t belong here. Get off my street!”
Then again she pulls out a cell phone and puts it on a strobe flashlight setting and holds it in Ben’s face, about a quarter inch from hitting his nose and again starts yelling:
“How you like it! Is it good for you?”
Ben says: “What are you talking about. There are no street lights here, I’m 76 years old and can’t see at night, you telling me I’m not allowed to use a flashlight to walk my dog?”
She continues her deranged ranting, now yelling much louder. And breaks off into a weird chat of: “You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street! You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street! You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street! You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street! You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street! You ain’t the police, you can’t flashlight me. This is my street!”
At this point I’m thinking, maybe she is on drugs, and spazzing out? We still can’t figure out what in the heck she is even talking about.
Ben says to her: “If you think I did something wrong, call the police and let them figure it out.”
At which point she goes full on meltdown shrieking:”I don’t want no police near me!”
And drives off way too fast for the 15mph speed limit of that street.
Me and Ben can’t figure out what in the heck she was talking about or where she came from.
We figure she must have been near by, and Ben’s hat-light must has shined across her at some point while we was trying to get the wheelchair wheel out of the pothole, and she must have been doing some criminal activity and thought we caught her doing it, so came over to yell at us.
Thing is, we are both near blind, and never saw her at all, and wouldn’t even have known she was there if she hadn’t come over and started yelling at us.
But why would she be yelling like that, those words specifically, unless she thought she got caught doing something illegal?
Clearly she thought police were shining a spotlight on her, because she said as much, but, why would anyone default to thinking police were shining a spotlight.
Which then begs the question: do police shine spotlights on people? Is that a thing? I don’t know. I have been bedridden with a broken spine for twelve years, since November 14, 2013, and I’ve only just gained enough strength to start trying to walk outside the past few months.
I am on Cutts Street, just 4 houses down from where she attacked, she was literally yelling at me just a few dozen feet from my front door, and, I walk this block around our apartment three to six times a day trying to gain nerve and muscle function in my legs, been doing this every day since May 2021 (so just over four years now) and I have never seen either this woman or her car before, so I don’t think she lives here even though she kept screaming “This is my street!” Because this is my street too, I been here since February 2019 and I’ve never seen her before.
I have the entire thing on video because my wheelchair cam was going (i have a camera on my wheelchair). I wonder should I upload the video to YouTube? Could she maybe be connected to the woman who murdered my 8 month old son with a golf club? Should I forward the video footage to the FBI agent in charge of my son’s murder investigation?
Crazy Woman Attacking Blind WheelChair User (Me) And We Don’t know Who she is or Why She Attacked Us Biddeford, Maine, Aug 14 2025; I am the blind woman in the wheelchair with the dog, my partner is the man walking beside me. He has a head lamp flashlight on his hat, and it shines whatever direction he is facing; we assume the flashlight must have shined on the woman at some point, and we did not notice. Also – I live 4 houses from where this happened and walk my dog here 5 to 6 times a day – she is literally doing this about 79 feet away from my front door, while claiming to live here, even though I ACTUALLY DO live here and have never seen her or her car before! We were on our way home and are only minutes from entering our front door… listen to what she says – claiming she lives here, while clearly not knowing that I a blind wheelchair user who walk my dog here 5+ times a day ACTUALLY lives here!
By what she said, she also seems to assume English is our native languages and it is not. I am a Gypsy and my native tongue is MUCH different then how Americans talk, while my partner is from Austria and German is his native language. This is yet another case of us discovering once again that Americans are weird, hostile, paranoid, jump to weird conspiracy conclusions without knowing and facts, and are quick to attack us minorities, us elderly, us non-Americans, and us disabled people. It would be nice if we could go outside EVEN JUST ONCE without some crazy American attacking us.
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Who is the heck is Mark? I think I just found the source of all the “Wendy said … about Mark…” type slander that is going around locally. I do not know anyone named Mark, unless you count the YouTuber Markiplier, who I watch daily.
It’s near daily, both online and offline for well over a decade now, of wild, crazed rumors of me supposedly “gossiping about Mark” or “trying to get people to hate Mark” ect.
The problem is, I can not figure out who in the heck this “Mark” even is, because I have never heard of anyone named Mark before.
Whenever I ask these people “Who is Mark, what are you talking about?” They always say the same thing: “Oh you know Mark, everyone knowns Mark, he runs the town, Mark don’t need no last name. the whole state of Maine knows Mark, especially YOU what with the way you bad mouth him all day long!”… uhm?
How am I going on about someone I don’t know?
What are they even talking about?
THEY are the ones going “Mark this” and “Mark that” and slapping me name on to what they are saying and I want to know why it is they are lying about me and saying I’m talking about some guy I never even heard of before.
What? 99% of the people who work at the town hall are cousins or uncles of mine, and it’s been that way since the 1920s… and there has NEVER been anyone in my family named Mark, nor has there ever been anyone at the town hall named Mark for well over 200 years.
So, no, there is no one named Mark who runs the town.
And, again, who the hell do these people think I am?
Clearly these people are mixing me up with someone else, AGAIN, because:
#1 prior to 2010, when I started college, I never set foot off my farm at 146 Portland Ave, EVER, not once since the 1970s, because Ben would not allow it because he is insanely over the top paranoid I might encounter another male. Ben whom I’ve “belonged” to since I was 8, Ben, who is 27 years older then me, and thinks nothing wrong with adult men buying female children, whom only let me go outside on SunDay’s to drive me to church and at Church never let me out of his sight and had meltdowns if anyone male or female tried to talk to me… Ben, who would not let me go to school, terrorizing my parents over the evils of public school because Ben, did not want me to ever met another man, because I at 8 years old was his and no one else could have me, a thing he continues to rave on about now 42 years later; Ben who would not let me get a driver license after my grandmother and mother snuck me out at 15 years old to the DMV to get my permit, Ben who now brags he taught me to drive, but he did so when I was 31 years old, and keeps track of mileage on my car, Ben who controls all money and refuses to allow me to know how to do numbers or math and had a meltdown when he found out I had a job online for KEEN that was paying $600 PER HOUR and he flipped out and shut down my Keen profile while saying I was “evil” for being a female and earning more money then him; …
#2 I was mute until I had surgery on June 24, 2016, which gave me the ability to talk. Mute because I required a simple one hour day surgery, when I was 14 that Ben refused to let me have because at the time he was in full swing Heaven’s Gate waiting for HaleBopp mode with my uncles and the Alien God Ben believes in does not allow or doctors; and because I was not allowed outside, not allowed to drive a car, and Ben enjoyed the fact that I was mute, I went from the age of 14 to the age of 42 mute, for no reason other then Ben did not want me to be able to talk. The surrey happened June 24, 2016 in a doctors office in the complex behind the Biddeford hospital, and guess who showed up to have a meltdown in the doctors office ? Ben. He was NOT happy about the fact that I had that surgery WITHOUT HIS PERMISSION…I’m only NOW just learning ow to talk, now in 2024!
#3 I don’t know anyone named Mark. But, Ben does. And my father does. Ben and my Father get together near daily for well over 30 years now, to have gab sessions which last 4 to 5 hours, of them steady none stop complaining of how much they hate the Mormon church, how much they hate someone they call Mark, and recently also how much they hate someone called Biden, whom, I think might be one of the American presidents, though I’m not sure. Ben and my father CLEARLY know someone named Mark, but every time I ask either of them who that is, they wave their hands in my face and say: “No gave you permission to speak, female. The men are talking, go write your books.”…
#4 I just caught BEN and my cousin Don talking, and THEY were both going back and forth saying to each other “Wendy said… about Mark…” “oh yeah and she was saying … about Mark…” “yeah and did you know Wendy hates Mark because…”Oh yeah and I heard Wendy said… about Mark last week”…. for almost an hour of steady, none stop bold faced lying about me.
#5 I’m not allowed to have a phone because Ben is paranoid I might talk to another man. Don is my cousin and called Ben, to ask about some weird rumor which Don says is flying around Old Orchard right now, of once again, me supposedly saying something about someone named Mark. He wanted to know “What’s going on between Wendy and Mark?” To which Ben answered “Oh you know how Wendy is, she hates Mark…” wait… what? I don’t even know who this mystery Mark is? How can I hate someone if I don’t even know who they are? What in the hell is Ben even talking about?
#6 Ben would have a psychotic meltdown if I even HINTED to mentioning another man’s name, EVERYONE who lives in the area has SEEN what Ben does to my car if Ben gets it in his head that another man my have even looked at it! I used to have a 1974 AMC Gremlin, and sitting in tiny little pieces in twelves 5gallon buckets in my yard! Only an idiot who doesn’t know what kind of a deranged man I’m married to would DARE suggest I ever said another man’s name!
The conversation went on and one for nearly an hour of Ben telling Don, one blatant lie after another about me, starting nearly every sentence with “Wendy and Mark…” and yet, I still don’t know who this Mark is, and when I asked Ben, why he was lying to Don about me and who is Mark? Ben got mad at the Saco Unitarian church, and started raving and ranting that they were all evil because they were gay….uhm…wait…what?
What does the Unitarian church in Saco have to do with anything? What is he talking about? What does that have to do with what he was just telling Don?
And again… WHO THE HELL IS MARK?!?!?!
Ben. The High Priest.
Ben… who is the high priest quorum leader of the Sanford Ward church, and NEVER told them I was crippled with a broken spine and I only just found out last summer that NO ONE in my church even KNEW that I had not attended church.
Ben… whom is one of the 3 people who were the ONLY three people who knew I was going to be at the BugLight Lighthouse November 14, 2013, where the Claire woman murdered BEN’s SON, a baby that Ben denies being the father of, a baby that Ben denies ever existed, …and the Claire woman who crippled me the same time she killed BEN’s baby… in 2013 I was running the 3rd largest egg producing poultry farm in the state of Maine, here at 146 Portland Ave in Old Orchard Beach, Maine and it was shut down because Ben shut it down rather then keep it going, while I was paralyzed with a broken spine… by February 2014, ALL the chickens, roosters, bantams were gone. I used to have horses and goats and rabbits as well. But November 14, 2013 the mystery woman who calls herself Claire crippled me while I was 8 months pregnant with BEN’s baby and killed BEN’s son, and Ben not only did not care that his son was murdered, but he also, did not care about keep a 200 year old egg farm in business either… because I, a female, owned it.
That’s why since November 2013 there are no more horses, goats, rabbits, or thousands of chickens at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
In 2016, when FBI agent Andy Drewer showed up to investigate my son’s murder, after the previous agent had moved to Florida, the first thing he said to me after introducing himself was: “How well do you trust Ben?” a lot of questions about Ben. Including, to ask if I was aware Ben had left the LDS/Mormon church and was quote: “Attending church with Mark’s wife” unquote.
No. I did not know Ben had left the LDS/Mormon church.
According to the FBI agent, Ben had left the LDS/Mormon church many years ago and was leading a very elaborate double life that he was being very careful not to let me know about.
And what is the FBI agent talking about? What church? What wife?
He tells me, Curtis Lake Church… Ben is going to Curtis Lake Church with “Mark’s wife”, whoever the hell that is… ah… yes, I know that church… they are the ones who like to gather in my driveway and chant that my Volvo is “Too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach” because I don’t know… I still can’t figure out how a car can be gay.
That church is almost a 3 hour drive away. It’s not local.
And as I have done with so many other people, I asked the FBI agents the age old question: “Who is Mark?”
To which he replied: “You don’t know do you? I thought you didn’t. Ben and your father have been very careful to not let you know what’s going on. Your father needed money and he put a mortgage on your house at 144 Portland Ave. Are you aware your father solf 144 Portland Ave to your cousin Don?”
Uhm? What?
No. I was unaware of this.
In fact, in 2016 I was still planting and growing my flowers and vegetables at 144 Portland Ave, fully unaware that NINE (9) years earlier my father had sold my land to Don!
I was NEVER NOTIFIED of the sale!
And my father had gone to the Old Orchard Beach town hall WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE OR PERMISSION and ILLEGALLY changed the deed into his name!
And then, he also ILLEGALLY changed the deed of 148 Portland Ave and put it into my mother’s name!
My father stole not one, but TWO pieces of land from me, and then scammed Don into paying him for one and my mother into paying him for the other, because according to the FBI, my father had hired a private investigator to follow my mother and her 2nd husband Wayne, and then paid the detective with a fake check, for twenty-six thousand dollars resulting in the detective going through some loan shark collection agency in Portland to get the money back from my father.
According to the FBI agent, that $26k disappeared. He said my father used the fake deed to my 144 Portland property to take out a bank loan for $26k, to pay the detective, but then gave the detective a fake check, and no one, including the FBI has been able to find that $26k or what my father did with it.
The loan shark agency, was supposedly connected to some gang. And according to the FBI agent, the detective did this is October 2013, a few weeks after the backhoe drove over my house and a few days before my son’s murder and my being crippled.
THAT was the FBI agents answer when I asked him: “Who is Mark?”
What the hell did my father get himself invollved in? I have no clue. I knew none of this before the FBI agent told me.
The FBI agent went on to say: “I gathered you were unaware of what your father had been doing.” And went on to list off other things my father had done: 2 house foreclosures in my name, more than a dozen car repossessions in my name, 27 credit cards in my name — EACH maxed out to over $20k; more than a hundred bank accounts for banks all over the states and in other states.
I never went to school. It wasn’t allowed. I don’t know math or money or numbers. I don’t even know how to use a credit card, let alone how to get one! I’ve never had any of those things, but here was the FBI agent listing off one thing after another, and saying my father has been taking all this stuff out in my name, borrowing tens of hundreds of thousands of dollars in money, in my name… with nothing to show for it. Nothing. FBI says they can trace the money back to my father, but it stops there. He’s not spending it. He’s not buying things. He never has any money. He’s daily borrowing money from Ben and never paying Ben back.
I’ve never had electricity or running water, there is no electric hookups or water hook ups on my land at all, and yet, CMP had tens of thousands of unpaid electric bills from all over the state of Maine, all in my name, and the FBI suspects, all taken out by my father.
What does any of this have to do with answering the question: “Who is Mark?” I don’t know.
All of this about my father stealing money and land and everything else, THAT was the FBI’s agent’s answer to the question: “Who is Mark?”
What the hell, does listing off all that stuff my father did, have to do with answering the question: “Who is Mark?”
But when I asked again, “Who is Mark and what is any of this about my father to do with someone called Mark?”
The FBI agent answered with this:
“The less you know about Mark the better. He’s digging his own grave. He’s in this as deep as your father. They’ve been working together on a very big scam for a very long time. They think we don’t know, but we do. We know everything. We have surveillance around them both. I just wanted to find out if you knew.”
The FBI agent remained adamant that there was no need for me to know who this mystery Mark was, and refused to tell me.
They just said they know who he is and are keeping a close watch on him as a person of interest connected to my son’s murder, but that he might be being framed same way others were being framed.
The FBI agent said there are a lot of people involved in this that I don’t need to know who they are, I just need to know that the FBI agents are keeping a close eyes on everyone and that even though a lot of the people involved think they are doing a good job of covering their tracks, the FBI knows about their attempts to hide evidence and plant evidence.
The FBI agents said, don’t worry, they got everything under control. Whatever that means.
He also told me, not to trust Ben.
And that has always confused me, but now, as I am relearning to walk, and am to the point, now in 2024, of being able to go outside again… I am now learning, Ben has been VERY busy, building up a massive lie about me.
Ben has done everything in his power to hide from me, the fact that he left the LDS/Mormon church, over a decade ago.
He still reports going to weekly temple trips with Rick, even though the FBI agents says Rick moved to Utah 8 years ago.
Ben still reports updates on Steve Shaw and Larry and Bishop Provenchar. Leaders in the church, back in the 1990s. People I know. But people I’ve not seen or heard from since 2013, because I’ve been crippled in bed since 2013, and no one from the church has visited me. Not once.
But, locals informed me a few weeks ago, that Bishop Provincha has not been Bishop in a decade and he also got divorced and moved to Utah and… according to locals, Ben spends an inordinate amount of time with Proventicar’s now ex-wife.
Every Sunday Ben is coming back talking about these men who run the church with him, going on and on about what they did this week.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, Ben’s going to the Boston Temple with them.
And now I’m being told- Ben lost his temple recommend over a decade ago, he’s not allowed to set foot in any temple. And those people, he’s supposedly doing all this stuff with, haven’t lived in Maine for years!
Ben ain’t going no where with them!
Ben’s been lying about EVERYTHING about all his churc activies and church trips, for over a decade!
And I had no clue, because I’m bedridden, I get can’t out of bed to attend church. I had no way to check if he was lying, but also, I had no reason to suspect him of lying.
Ben and I attended that church every Sunday for 42 years. They WERE people that he USED to go on those trips with, so it was a very believable lie.
I’m told by members from both the Saco Ward church AND the Sanford Ward church, that not only did Ben NOT tell anyone at either church I was crippled, dying, and spending the last 10 years relearning to walk… nor did he tell them his son was murdered, but he also never told them we had a son at all…. and… they say Ben told them I had become an anti-Mormon and had left the church… they also say Ben is the one telling people I believe in aliens and UFO… AND they say Ben is the one telling people that I believe my car is haunted.
My car is not haunted, and I’m so sick of people saying it is.
And I don’t believe in aliens or UFOs. Ben on the other hand is a MUFON member, and classifies himself as a ufologist.
I’m horrified to find out that Ben is the one who has been spreading those rumors, because he’s fully aware I don’t believe in that alien, ufo, ghosts, demons, mumbo-jumbo bullshit!
It gets worse.
Several of them say that Ben refers to me as “the daughter of a friend” while others said Ben claimed I was his daughter.
I’ve been married to Ben since August 13, 1987.
I had 7 miscarriages between 1987 and 2006.
Most of them happened before I was 17.
Ben’s been the father of all of them.
Since 2006 I’ve only had sex once.
March 2013, again, Ben.
And he did know I was pregnant.
I told him, in July 2013.
The backhoe drove over my house less than 2 weeks later.
Also in July 2013, I went to the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall and got a building permit, to add a room to the back of the house, for the baby.
The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall has a record of the fact that I got a building permit to add a baby’s nursery to the back of my house!
That same month, vandals were dumping construction trucks full of bagged garbage on my land on top of my garden.
August 4, 2013, Ben and my Father arrived at my yellow house, to say they were bringing a friend over on the weekend, to haul the garbage away.
August 8, 2013, instead of a dump truck arriving to haul out the garbage, a backhoe arrived and drove over the house. The police arrived and found that the backhoe driver had with him forged documents from the Old Orchard Beach Town hall, issuing him a demolition permit, that my father paid for. The town hall reported that Ben drove my father to the town hall to get that forged document filed.
The whole REASON we HAD the above BEFORE picture, which was taken July 4, 2013, was because that was the day we (me and Ben) started the construction of the add on of the baby’s room, and we took pictures around the entire house at the start of the construction of baby Xavier’s bedroom.
Hell, if you zoom in you can even see the building permit in the bay window just above the trunk of my car!
That’s what happened to my Guiness World Record winning Uncle Scrooge McDuck comic book collection. It was in that house when the backhoe drove over it.
That’s what happened to my Lord sesshomaru CosPlay that people knew me for for years. It was in that house when the backhoe drove over it.
That’s also what happened to the baby bassinet, the baby cloths, the baby supplies, the new baby bedroom that was half built by August 2013. It was in that house when the backhoe drove over it.
My 8th pregnancy was the first one to make it to 5 months without a miscarriage and so it was a huge celebration, one that everyone at college knew about.
My art teacher Hillary, at Southern Maine Community College was hovering concerns all semester, over my being in her Buglight Studio art class, due to paint supplies stored in the art studio might be bad for the baby, so, every class I was in that semester, she did outside, on the pier of the BugLight Lighthouse… the pier where on November 14, 2013 my baby was murdered by a stranger calling herself Claire and accusing me of trying to kill her husband.
Ben’s reaction to the golf club attack was bizarre to say the least.
Ben would not take me to the hospital.
He absolutely refused to go to the ER.
And I could not move. I was paralyzed from my waist down.
Every week, for 5 months, Ben carried me to his car, and drove to the Biddeford Free Clinic at the Ross Center, in Biddeford.
Every week, his story to the woman at the desk was the same… “She fell on the ice and hurt her back, it’s not that bad, we can wait, let others go ahead.”
In 2013, I was still mute. I would not have the surgery that gave me the ability to speak, until June 24, 2016, three years later… so I could not the nurse at the Ross Center Free Clinic that BEN WAS LYING about what had happened.
I DID NOT FALL ON THE FUCKING ICE!
BEN REFUSED TO TELL THE NURSES WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO ME!
February 2014… once again at the clinic, now 5 months in agony, this time, the woman came out from behind her desk to look at me herself. She took one look at my leg and said:
“Her leg is plainly broken. Why’ve you been coming here for 5 months, you should have taken her to the hospital! Can you not see she’s in agony!”
Ben said: “We’re paying cash.”
I had medical insurance. He did not need to pay cash.
He wanted to pay cash so there would be no record of the baby’s death and the doctors figured that out immediately. They said so right to his face.
Ben and the old Catholic nun nurse had a yelling match at each other over why I should or should not be in the hospital.
The old nurse, then picked up the phone and said:
“I have an extreme emergency case, a broken spine, broken pelvis, broken hips, broken legs, paralyzed, she can not walk. He’s been carrying her in here every week for 5 months now and leaving without her being treated. He is refusing to take her to the ER. She clearly recently had a baby. This looks like a battered woman case. I’m sending her to you right now. If they do not arrive, let me know, I’ll have the police arrest him.”
She then gave us the address for a Veteran’s Medical Center on the Ross Road in Saco, and told Ben to take me there right now.
He did. But he ONLY did because she threatened to have the police arrest him, if he didn’t.
He was ready to go back home again, tuck me back in under the tarp:
Outside, under a tarp, under seven feet of snow, paralized, unable to sit up let alone walk… ALONE… Every week, Benn tucked me back in there, and then left. … to go sleep and eat in a nice warm mansion in Wells.
Every week for 5 months, I lay there with a non-stop issue of blood, caused by the dead baby.
Before November 2013, I lived fine under that tarp which was put up May 2006. But after November 14, 2013, I could not cook, I could not eat, I could not do anything.
And for 5 months, Ben there did not think there was anything wrong with that.
And he was outright telling the old nun at the Ross Center: “It’s okay, I’ll just take her home. She’s not hurt that bad. She can sleep it off.” But he wasn’t telling the nun, “home” was an 8×6 tarp, which at that moment was buried under 7 feet of snow.
So while the old nun was horrified by what she was seeing happening at the Ross Center, she had no clue the reality of how bad things really were, or how little Ben cared if I lived or died. And he did not want her to know about the tarp, he did not want to police to find out, I had spent the first 5 months of being crippled, alone, under that tarp. with NO ONE checking in on me.
He was literally coming back once a week, to see if I was still alive, and if I was, take me to the Ross Center Free Clinic, to PRETEND he cared.
What changed February 2014?
I passed out from the 5 months of blood lose on the front hall of the Ross Center.
I likely would have died within the next 24 hours. I was THAT bad off. And Ben was just going to take me back “home” again.
And THAT is why the old nun threatened to have Ben arrested if he did not take me to the Veterans Hospital, immediately. And she had Ben so scared he was going to be arrested that he drove to the Veterans Hospital.
And once there, the female doctor, took me off to a room, where she kept me for 5 hours, while a hole bunch of people, kept asking the same question: “Where’s the baby? We can tell you just had a baby? Where is the baby? Did he do something to the baby?”
That was the start of my endless years of medical hell.
Being sent to surgeons all over the state, being sent to physical therapy, and having police and FBI agents hovering around during many of my hospital visits.
All the while with Ben scared out of his mind, an nurses giving him hell for the 5 months of me being denied medical treatment after the gold club attack of November 14, 2013, which I did not get treated for until February 2014.
The baby’s pulverised remains, were buried on my land. It was the last thing I was able to do before my broken legs gave out completely, November 2013.
Since 2013, people have arrived on my land with construction diggers, backhoes, excavators, bobcats, all ILLEGALLY… digging holes all over my yard, cutting down trees, and ripping up apple orchards, grape vineyards, and rose bushes, in their endless desperate search to find my son’s grave.
Between 2013 and 2024, I’ve had to dig up my son and move his grave over a dozen times.
Originally there was a tombstone, to mark the grave, I’ve had to take it down nd leave my one’s grave unmarked, because there is someone who REALLY wants ALL evidence of his existence erased.
In September 2020, the 3rd largest vandalism attack on 146 Portland Ave happened, and it was done in such a way to frame my uncle Bruce… except he died November 2019… the FBI and the Old Orchard Beach police, said, don’t anyone exact details of what happened, and don’t move anything… we have pictures of how everything is… just say on Facebook, that another attack happened and you know it wasn’t Bruce Bruce is dead, we want to see what happened.
A few hours after I posted the FaceBook post as the police had instructed, someone returned to my land, and changed the evidence, to make it look like me cousin Don had done it.
AND… they left something else… the police know what it is, as they collected it as evidence… but whoever did this… they know my father has diabetes and tried to frame my father, by making it look like his diabetes equipment had fallen out of his car. They went very far to frame both my cousin Don and my father, for something, that days before, they had framed my uncle Bruce for. They knew my father’s medicine, but they didn’t know it had been changed a year prior.
2022, one of my father’s nurses was arrested by the FBI, they did not tell us why, only that they did it. She was arrested from the house across the street, out of the apartment building the Saco Ward church houses it’s missionaries in. All we know is she was somehow connected to the September 2020 event.
May 2021, the police allowed us to tell Don what had happened to my land September 2020. An Old Orchard Beach police officer stood their silently listening as Ben called Don on speaker phone and told Don, someone had cut down the 15 foot cedar trees across the front of my land, and had stolen Don’s boat and put it in my driveway.
The first thing Don said was: “It wasn’t Mark was it? You know how much Mark hates Wendy.”
Ben immediately shushed Don, told him not to talk about Mark right now, explained “Wendy is with me” but did not tell Don the police officer was also there. Don, confirmed that yes, that was his boat, and no, he had not told anyone to move it, then explained two separate incidents, one with his septic tank and one with an electrician, both taking over $10k from him to do work, but then never doing the work, and asking, “Could they have used the money to vandalism her yard and that’s why they never did the work I paid them to do?”
During this conversation I asked Don: “Who is Mark?” Don said, “He’s the guy who always vandalises your yard. His family tresspasses on your land every time you’re not home. His wife is the one who stole your azaleas and rhododendrons. They’ve been stealing your plants for years.”
But once again, Ben made a very big point of shutting Don up, and it became VERY clear at that point that Ben KNOWS who Mark is and Ben does NOT want me to know who Mark is. But I don’t know why. That part confuses me.
I don’t know how much I can trust Ben anymore.
In the past few months, as I get up out of bed more and more often, continuing to relearn to walk, strengthening my legs and back and bein able to stand up for now a few hours to a time instead of just a few minutes, Ben seems to be becoming increasingly hostile, increasing agitated, and increasingly nerves and jumpy.
In the last couple of weeks, he’s become VERY full of outbursts and anger, ESPECIALLY over the FBI hotline for HIS son’s murder… and most recently, he has become daily enraged over the fact that images of the Clair woman are now on my car.
In fact… it’s starting to look like he knows who the Claire woman is.
His son was murdered and a normal man, would turn hell inside out to find his son’s killer… and yet, Ben’s doing everything in his power to erase all evidence that his son ever existed at all, and has outright told me many times now “Call off the FBI! This is stupid! The FBI is harassing that poor woman and her family!”
Wait… what?
Ben said that last week.
What poor woman and her family i being harassed by the FBI?
What is he even talking about?
Which brings us to today… and a phone call from Don. Don, said, that “Mark’s wife” is very upset that the FBI just questioned her about her connection to my son’s murder.
So my question is now, not only: “Who is Mark?” but now also: “Who is Mark’s why?” … and “Why is the FBI looking at this mystery Mark and his equally mystery wife, as being involved in my son’s murder?”… and “Why is Ben so angry about that?” and… “Why would anyone think I had the power to call off the FBI?” I don’t control the FBI. It’s stupid for anyone to think that.
I remain as ever, very confused, but now more so than ever, because Ben is very, very, VERRY angry over the FBI and them apparently closing in on a new lead involving our son’s murder.
The biggest question of all is this: What is Ben so scared the FBI is going to find out? And why is Ben acting like this about his own son’s murder? Why doesn’t Ben want the FBI to find his son’s killer?
And with how angry Ben is right now, I can not help but think back to 2016, when FBI agent Andy Drewer showed up to investigate my son’s murder, after the previous agent had moved to Florida, the first thing he said to me after introducing himself was: “How well do you trust Ben?”
Ben has been lying a lot. About a lot of things. Things he does not know I know about. Because he does not know the FBI agents questioned me about the things Ben was doing.
Why did Ben leave the church?
Why didn’t Ben tell me he left the church?
Why has Ben been pretending to still go to church activities and do church things with church people… who… don’t even live in Maine any more?
Why did Ben never tell anyone at church I was crippled?
Why did Ben lie, and tell people I became an anti-Mormon and left the church?
I’ve been bedridden, struggling to stay alive, with life threatening injuries, spendina decade relearning to walk, wondering the entire tim why not once did anyone from church visit me, not home teachers, not visiting teachers, not the bishop…. no one. Not once in 10 years of struggling to stay alive, struggling to relearn to walk.
And now I find out, they were never told about my injuries at all. Worse, they were lied to and told I had left the church! Why?
Why did he do that?
The FBI agents, says he believes Ben knows who the Claire woman is and his covering up for her.
Why would he do that?
She murdered his son and crippled his wife, almost killed his wife… why would he protect her identity?
Why was no one at church told our son was murdered?
So many questions.
Ben just looks more and more guilty of being involved every day.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t think I can trust Ben anymore.
It really is starting to look like Ben is orchestrating EVERYTHING and has gone out of his way to cut off EVERYONE and ANYONE who I might ever go to. But I can not understand why would he do something like that? I am so confused.
As some people have asked how it is they could help, I have set up a way for you to do so now, so if you’d like to help me pay my medical bills, pay monthly bills, buy food, and save up to rebuild my house, you can chip in via Patreon, Stripe, or PayPal at any of the following one, recurring monthly, or recurring yearly levels:
Without yelling at me, or throwing rocks at me, or hitting me, or calling me crazy, or calling me insane, or pulling my cane from my hand and throwing it where I can’t reach it then pushing me in the road.
That is the 3rd time this year, 2024, that a person has talked to me without being violent, hateful, or a bully.
I also got a chance to talk to her.
It was less than 3 minutes, but OMG! This is so exciting! Someone actually talked to me!!!!!
This hasn’t happened in 8 years!
Here is the video footage off my dashcam:
I also got a chance to talk to her.
Which is a really big thing, as I have been without speech therapy since the golf club woman broke my spine on November 14, 2013, and left me crippled and bedridden and having to relearn to walk.
And I was still mute when this happened. I had the surgery which gave me the ability to speak, June 24, 2016. I only have limited verbal speech, now, my voice is a whisper, you must be very close to hear me, and it is slow and stuttered badly because I still am unable to fully open my jaw or move my jaw at a speed to allow normal speed speech others have.
My son was murdered, and I was crippled November 14, 2013, 3 years BEFORE I had the jaw surgery. I was mute my whole life, and people assumed I could not speak because of vocal chord reasons. No one ever checked my jaw.
I was still mute at the time of the attack. The golf club attack happened at Southern Maine Community College, a few minutes after 10PM at the parking lot of the Buglight Lighthouse at Prebble Fort on the college campus. November 14, 2013. And at the time Robert Vettes, Chris, Megan Grumbling, Kevin Sweeney, and Andrew Parker, were the professors who had banned together to try to teach me how to speak. They did that 3 days a week, every semester, 3 semesters a year for 5 years.
The college paying to have speech therapists and psychologists and Dr Andrew Parker (a psychiatrist) to help me learn to speak. Those people devoted several years of their life to trying to figure out why I could not talk, but none of them ever thought it could be my jaw was fused shut that was the issue.
After the golf club attack, the doctors did a bunch of MRIs, scans, and x-rays from February 2014 to June 2016, and it was during the June 2016 MRI, that the doctor noticed my jaw bone was fused shut, and scheduled me for surgery. They removed 7 of my teeth and a lot of the jaw bone, replaced everything with a 3d-printed resin that was kiln fired into a porcelain plate. The bones and jaw and teeth on the right side of my face are all fake porcelain, and also I have plastic surgery to fix the scars. Nearly the entire right side of my face is ceramic and plastic. It’s WHY I started wearing the veil and dark glasses. The veil and glasses cover most of the scars.
People always accuse me of being Muslim and wearing a hijab but I am a Mormon and I wear a veil over my face because of all the surgeries that were done to rebuild my face. I have been beaten up several times in the past two years, since I started trying to walk outside again, by people who say I am wearing a hijab. It makes me very sad to see how Muslim women get treated. What I wear is a Catholic prayer scarf that some Catholic nuns gave me after the surgery.
Had the golf club women not broken my spine, I’d still be mute, because it was a side effect of all the surgeries and scan while rebuilding my spine, that resulted in the discover of my fused jaw. I have only been able to speak since 2016 and it is still very limited. Because my vocal chords were not used for over four decades, they grew wrong and so my voice now that surgery gave me a voice, is very quiet and slow and stuttered, so even though I can now talk, it is still difficult for most people to understand my words.
But they were trying to teach me to talk at the school, and I had a very hard time forming words because of my jaw, which had been like that since childhood so I have never talked.
Since the golf club attack I have not been able to stand or sit up long enough to a time to be able to return to work or college or church yet. I have not been to church since 2013, and for 47 years I never missed church, not once before. It is very distressing not being able to go to church, even more distressing is not one person from church has visited me since I became crippled.
Same with my friends from work and from college. Everyone from church, work, and college, as well as my relatives and family, fully shunned me after the golf club attack. With most of them being Mormons, shunning is a full blown shunning too: They pretend you are dead. They pretend I am dead, to the extent, they even had a funeral. I don’t know why they shun me, no has ever told me the reason.
So, my speech therapy was ended November 14, 2013 when the crazy woman with the golf club attacked and broke my spine and murdered my baby. But I did not have the jaw surgery until June 24, 2016, three years later. So I have not yet had any practice in conversations with other people. I started making YouTube and Twitch videos so that I could practice speaking by talking to the camera, but that does not teach me how to do back and forth conversations with other Humans, and I still have not yet learned how to do conversations with people, and I have no one to help me learn that aspect of speaking.
So, it was a very big deal for this woman to talk to me today, because it is the first time since 2016, that I have had a chance to practice speaking with another person.
Like I said, this is the 3rd time someone has spoken to me this year, but, it is the first time, in 8 years that a person actually stopped and waited for me to respond before walking away, so today was the first time since my June 24, 2016 jaw surgery of attempting to have a conversation with anything other than a camera.
It is very strange to experience someone talking to me and not also hitting me. Kindness is not a Human trait. It was one of the first things I learned when I first started trying to interact with Humans. The bulk of them are very mean, very violent, yell and scream constantly. I am not used to interacting with people who are not trying to hit me while yelling at me.
EVERYTHING We Are Allowed To Publicly Release About The FBI Investigation Can Be Found HERE aka Full details of the events surrounding my son’s murder and my becoming crippled
You know the problem with relearning to walk after 11 years bedridden with a broken spine? (spine is still broken, but nerves are starting to be usable again, so I’m regaining movement) It exhausts me to do anything.
Apparently (according to my doctor) limited mobility for over a decade, weakened my lungs, and so when I try to go outside and walk my dog, it puts so much exertion on my lungs, that it is hard to breath, which in turn causes me to not be able to walk more than 50 feet without my lungs clamping up from too much exertion. So, now I have yet another issue.
I need to get up each day to try to walk for a few minutes to get my legs working again, but it’s stressing my lungs to do so, so I now need to get my lung muscles stronger as well.
Worst part is, I can not walk my dog every day, because walking him just around the block once, shuts my lungs down for 3 to 4 days. I tried taking him to Clifford Park yesterday, and now today my lungs are hurting so bad I can not even sit up in bed. Very frustrating.
😦
Clifford Park, Maine, April 20, 2024, photo by Wendy Christine Allen
Posted onWednesday, April 10, 2024|Comments Off on If you know who my son’s murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
Maine Unsolved Crimes: My 8 month old Infant Son Was Murdered by a crazy woman with a golf club. — If you have any info please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
Do you know who this woman is? She beat my 8 month old infant son’s head in with a golf club. We don’t know who she is or why she did it. If you know who my son’s murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
On November 14, 2013, she used a golf club to bash out the brains of my 8-month-old baby Xavier-Octavian Allen. She called herself “Claire” as though she thought I knew her, but I know no one named Claire and had never seen her before. She was about 65 years old and would be around 75 years old today in 2024. The FBI believes the woman who murdered my son is the same woman who hired the backhoe to drive over my house on August 8, 2013, a few weeks before my son’s murder.
She is the same woman who severed my spine with the same golf club used to murder my baby…. more details are at eelkat.com/never-forget
If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer,
Posted onMonday, February 12, 2024|Comments Off on Why do so many sci-fi and fantasy authors include their middle name instead of just using their first and last?
Got asked this question, figured I’d answer it. – Why do so many sci-fi and fantasy authors include their middle name instead of just using their first and last?
Some people just have common as Jane Doe and Joe Smith type first and last names, so use their middle name to tell Jane A Doe is a different person from Jane B Doe. That is the case for me.
My first name, Wendy, was one of the top 5 baby names for the year I was born, soooo, like every other person my same age has my same first name, LOL!
And my last name is Allen, which is so common you could throw a stone in any direction and hit 20+ people with that last name, none of whom are related to any of the others.
But my middle name, while "popular" is fairly uncommon.
In kindergarten there were 3 other girls with my same first name, JUST in my class (more in other classes) and 5 boys and girls with my same last name (100+ in the whole school - none of us related!)
First day of School, (age 5) the teacher wrote all our names on the board to see which of us knew how to read our own names yet (the goal was for us to get up and point to our own name, so she knew who needed to learn to read their own names).
Because there were 4 of us Wendy's, she had to add our middle initial. So, mine was written on the board as "Wendy C."
We all had to make name tags. Everyone with unique names wore just their first name. The 5 Michelles, 3 Mikes, 2 Pauls, and us 4 Wendys, all had to add a letter. Mine was "C" for Christine.
We had to write a new name tag every day, so that we never forgot how to write our names.
By the end of the first week of kindergarten I had it ingrained into my brain that I was NOT "Wendy", rather I was "Wendy C", but that upset my grandmother for some reason, so I stopped writing "Wendy C." and started writing "Wendy Christine".
And so, since I was 5 years old, I always made people call "first name-middle name" (Wendy-Christine) as though it was all one first name and not my middle name.
My first book was published by that same teacher (I had won a K5 school writing contest and it was a 16 page picture book, of crayon drawings and around 200 words), so at the age of just FIVE years old, I had a book published under the name MY TEACHER, Mrs. Bureau of the Old Orchard Beach Jameson School in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, choose (I was never asked) "Wendy-Christine Allen aka EelKat" is what it said on the cover (EelKat was a spirit animal name my Kickapoo Native American grandmother called me so I assume it was her idea to put that on the cover?)
But that was 1978.
Now 5 decades later, I'm a Dark Fantasy novelist, published 138 novels, and just went with that same name that the Kindergarten teacher had put on my first book, the one published by the school.
Never bothered to change it.
But, yeah, at its start, the reason it was "Wendy-Christine Allen" and not just "Wendy Allen" was because there were 3 other Wendys in my K5 classroom besides me.
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A Blog By Damballa Priestess Rev. EelKat Wendy C Allen
Folks online keep asking to see me in my priest's robes, because all my online pics are my every day clothes, so, here you go, me as I look on Thursdays, Sundays, Holy Days, Holidays, Feast Days, and during ritual ceremonies and festivals.
❤Rev. EelKat Wendy C Allen.......❤
❤...............................................❤
❤Horror/Romance/Sci-Fi Author.❤
❤Damballa Weddo Priestess.....❤
❤Hoodoo Rootworker...................❤
❤Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach.❤
❤Medsen Fey Voodoo Queen of Maine.❤
❤Artist.......................................❤
❤Script Frenzy ML...........................❤
❤9 time NaNoWriMo winner.........❤
❤Loves Lord Sesshomaru...........❤
❤................................................❤
Me - August 2010
The pretty Sesshomaru avatar you see on my comments:
Morning Verse, Grades One through Four
The sun with loving light
Makes bright for me each day,
The soul with spirit power
Gives strength unto my limbs.
In sunlight shining clear
I reverence, O God ,
The strength of humankind
Which Thou so graciously
Hast planted in my soul
That I, with all my might,
May strive to work and learn.
From Thee flow light and strength,
To Thee rise love and thanks.
I was born an raised on a farm in Maine. I am the author of 30+ books, 200+ short stories, and 2,000+ articles, I am also an artist, painter, photographer, fashion designer, doll maker, psychic, card reader, hoodoo rootworker, feral cat rescuer, 5 time NaNoWriMo winner, 2 time Script Frenzy winner, Script Frenzy ML for Southern Maine, CosPlayer, huge fan of Liberace and Sesshomaru, a vegetarian animal rights activist, and the original outspoken founder of the Proctor and Gamble Boycotter. (Yes, I was that little kid who wrote the letters and got all the media attention 30 years ago). I have 15 cats and I have a 22' motorhome named No Hurry.
From 2009 to 2011, I was the Script Frenzy ML for Southern Maine.
I have Autism. For more of my life I rarely spoke and was considered "too crazy" to ever live a normal life. I communicated via writing instead of vocally. I did not attend school. Psychologists said I would never drive a car, never get a job, never go to college, never function as a meaningful member of society, never be able to take care of myself or live on my own. They said there was no hope for me, I would need full-time care my whole life.
My progression was long and slow and very hard. Things other people found easy to do (getting dressed, brushing teeth/hair, walking across the street, etc,) I found extremely confusing and hard to learn. I was prone to wandering off and getting lost (I still am). Driver's ed takes most people a few weeks to learn - it took me 5 years.
I determined to prove the doctors wrong, but it was far harder to do, than most people would imagine. I got my first job working at Macy's at age 30 (a very difficult job as I had to deal one on one with customers and I still at that point was not talking in a manner that could be understood by others). I got my GED at age 34. I got my driver's license at age 35. I started college at age 36. By age 37 I had become a Phi Theta Kappa Honor Student and I was finally able to speak to others in full spoken verbal conversation for the first time in my life.
Miss Citten The EelKat of The Twighlight Manor Series
I became homeless in 2006, a result of a flood, 3 years after starting this blog. I had a 8x6 tarp, a -40F sleeping bag, a full length mink coat, a machette, 2 dogs, and 9 cats. And that's it. I had NOTHING else.
Psychologists who study survival, say that those who follow the rules and heed authority are the first to give up and die when faced with surviving in the wild, while the free spirited, independently minded people come out on top because they are willing to question everything and fight against the odds.
Me and Buddy - Living under a 8x6 tarp - 2006
I guess I must be pretty independent and free spirited than, because I survived 3 blizzards, a -48F cold front (before wind chill factor, which weathermen said brought the temps down to -80F for 2 weeks), 2 ice storms, and 5 hurricanes under a 8x6' tarp on a beach, at the edge of a swamp, in a forest, in Maine - and 5 years later I am still here, with no plans to move back into a house any time soon! LOL! (Though as of 2011 I did upgrade from a tent to a motorhome.)
Me and Mowglie - October 2006 - morning after a blizzard
I not only learned how to survive in harsh conditions with almost nothing, I learned to like living like that, so much, that I now live like this by choice. I hated it at first. I hated not having a house, I hated not having food, I hated not having electricity or running water or a toilet, but after a while, I got used to being without those things, and I realized how much more freedom I had unencumbered by such things. In the beginning after the flood, every day was a fight to survive and I had no idea how to get food or shelter, but now, "extreme survival" as become just an every day part of my life, and it's no longer "survival" but a lifestyle, which in a few months, I will have been living for 6 years.
Granted most people are not suited for this sort of life; 6 years ago, I wasn't suited for this sort of life; 6 years ago, I never could have dreamed that I would living the way I do now. I had a normal life, a normal family, than one day it was all gone, in the space of 3 minutes - everything I knew and loved was taken away by a flood. Before the flood, like you, I would have said no one could survive in the wilderness with so few things, I would not have thought it possible either. But I am here 5 years later to tell you that a person CAN survive in the wilderness with next to nothing, and for a lot longer than a month. I know, because I did it for 5 years. It can be done, you have no idea what you can do, until you are forced to have to do it.
I am the author of 30+ books, 200+ short stories, a few dozen novellas, 2,000+ non-fiction articles, a few comic books, and roughly 2 dozen plays. Most of the fiction evolves around The Twighlight Manor Universe and it's several spin offs. I am also the illustrator of said books and stories. My genre is mixed and changes with my mode, but for the most part is described as: "Dark Satire Sci-Fi Horror Splatter Gorn" and gets shelved under: Humor, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, or Porn depending on who is doing the shelving. Some fans have described it as reading like: "Rocky Horror Picture Show acted out by Monty Python in Space"....uhm...okay, I guess I could agree with that.
Now where would a blog by EelKat be with out chickens and vampire bunnies?
(Yes, I am the crazy woman at your local writer's meetings, who wears the top hat and has a lobster sitting on my head.)
I have decided that it's not crazy enough to just do NaNoWriMo and Script Frenzy each year, I MUST do CampNaNoWriMo each MONTH as well! :D
I am known by some locals as "The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach", partly because of my wild feral lifestyle and partly because I am by race and culture a Gypsy, specifically a Scottish Traveller from a family tree that has a 400 year history of witches and hoodoo, and yes I am well versed in Hoodoo Witchcraft, card reading, spell casting, conjure arts, and can be correctly termed a Hoodoo Root Doctor aka A Witch Doctor.
Sir Roderic - owner of The Twighlight Manor
In case you don't already know, the thing which I am most famous for is that I am the creator, author, and illustrator of The Twighlight Manor series, the little loved, much hated, very boycotted, and extremely banned, graphically violent, sex filled, politically incorrect, M rated dark satire sci-fi horror series started in 1978 and spanning 31 years of books, novellas, and short stories, all of which now out of print and very obscure thanks to a series of good old fashion Christian book burnings. Stories of sex crazed faeries, talking cats, eels from space, sadistic mad scientists, human-eating aliens, all living in a house hell bent on eating every one that walks through it's front doors, and the humans who fall prey to them all. Oh yeah and did I mention the main character is a drag queen?
And yes, I am the EelKat with the massive 7,000+ issue collection of Uncle Scrooge comic books, which thankfully survived both the flood and the later fire. Unfortunately the rest of my monstrous comic book collection - some 10,000 books - did not survive the flood or the fire and no longer exist. Only the Uncle Scrooge books had been bagged, boarded, and locked in sealed containers at the time of the flood, so they were the only part of the collection which still exists today.
Next up on my agenda: painting my motorhome bright bubblegum pink, than rhinestoneing my Volvo purple - yes, it IS the Dazzleing Razzberry out of the Twighlight Manor series.
My Old House (Volvo) & My New House (1975 Dodge)
And yes, to those who ask: I am the same EelKat who is "Etiole's friend".
Etiole (and his son Phozeen) - main character of The Twighlight Manor series
To many I am known as "Maine's Crazy Cat Woman", for the obvious reasons (I had 24 cats at the time that title was bestowed upon me).
And, that's me. And yes, I still have lots of cats...right now I have 12 of them.
Check Out Star Log’s Massive 1,000 Link+ BlogRoll!
I've been reading blogs since 1997, and writing blogs since 2003. Star Log is my original, most heavily trafficked (getting thousands of hits a day), oldest, biggest, most posted on, and by far the longest of the 34 blogs I write.
Getting your own blog linked here has been known to send large amounts of traffic to your blog, as my readers are quick to read pretty much anything I recommend. (Ain't that just great?!).
Well, in 14 years reading blogs and 8 years writing blogs, I've read and commented on pretty much every blog out there, and today my blog roll hold a whopping 1,000+ links. I read a lot of blogs and I may be reading yours.
Are you on Star Log's BlogRoll?
NaNoWriMo & Script Frenzy Writer’s Meeting Info:
(Old Badge Shown! Script Frezny is now held in April!)
IMPORTANT NOTICE:
In 2009 I was selected to be the Municipal Liaison for The Southern Maine Charter of The Script Frenzy Contest. We have both year round in in-contest meetings open to all Maine writers. Meeting are held, same time, same place every year.
Here is a listing of the Write-In dates, times, and locations. These are the same as they were last year, and are the same as we have used for NaNoWriMo for over 5 years, so these dates/locations are pretty steady and not likely to change much. Should there be any changes, announcement will be made on this thread.
The Year Round General Writing Get-Togethers:
When: Every Sunday, all year long, every year.
Where: Westbrook: Panera
Time: All day long from 9AM - 7PM
NOTE: This is the "BIG" meeting, where all of Maine's MLs for both NaNoWriMo and Script Frenzy get together with all writers from the entire state. I am only there from 2PM - 5PM, and I am only guaranteed to be here every week in April and November, the rest of the year I'm there as my personal schedule permits, but other writers come and go through out the day, every week, all year long, you'll have to check with individual persons if you want to plan on getting there the same time they do.
The In-Contest Screnzy Only (April) Meetings:
When: Saturdays in April
Where: Portland: Downtown Public Library
Time: 1PM - 3 PM
Impromptu Meetings:
When: year round
Where: check this thread for announcements
Time: varies
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What is the difference between a Meet-Up and a Write-In?
Meet-Up:
A social gathering where writers can sit back, relax, and talk about writing, life, the universe, and everything. Usually held at a cafe, coffee shop or fast food joint, where we can eat and write while we talk.
Write-In:
Like a Meet-Up, only every one is quietly typing at their laptops or scribbling on paper pads, furiously writing as many pages as possible.
Are these Meet-Ups or Write-Ins?
Both. Every one comes together and spends the day chatting and/or writing.
What are Impromptu Meetings?
Impromptu Meetings:
A spur of the moment meeting, that was not planned ahead.
These can be any place, any time, through out the year. Any member can announce them. All you got to do is, post here and say:
"I'm going to be at ____ at _____ o'clock today/tomorrow/next Friday. I'll be getting some writing done while I'm there. You guys are welcomed to come join me."
Please be sure to include the day, place, and time.
Impromptu Meetings are often just the person who made the announcement, which is okay. A meeting of one, can still be fun...I do it several times a week! Sometimes another person will show up to join you (usually me). If you are lucky 2 or 3 other people may join you, as well, though it's not so common. If I'm not doing something else on that day, I make an effort to try to show up at all the Impromptu Meetings announced by members.
Where can we hold Impromptu Meetings?
Any place really. At a public library is a common choice. Panera, MacDonald's, Starbucks, SubWay, Pizza Hut, Burger King, Wendy's and other such places are good options if you want to eat and write at the same time. In your living room at your house if you want. I know of a couple of members who get on the Amtrak Downeaster and spend the day on the train writing from Portland to Boston.
Places we have had Impromptu Meetings in the past, that I have personally attended, have included the following:
```Old Orchard Beach Libby Library
```Saco Dyer Library
```Biddeford McArther Library
```Portland Downtown Library
```Portland Burbank Library
```Wells Library
```Food Court at the Maine Mall
```South Portland Starbucks at Target
```Panera in Westbrook
```Panera in Biddeford
```Pizza by Michael in Saco
```MacDonald's in: Saco, Biddeford, Scarborough, Sanford
```Burger King in: Saco, Biddeford
```SubWay in: Old Orchard Beach, South Portland, Kennebunk, Biddeford
```Dairy Queen in Biddeford
As you can see from the list, I do travel across quite a big distance to make an effort to meet with my fellow writers during Script Frenzy and NaNoWriMo!
A Note About In-Home Meetings:
Personally I prefer meetings in public places as opposed to in people's homes, just you know, safer. So I do not recommend having Write-Ins at your home, and NEVER-EVER-EVER post your home address or phone number on a public forum! Remember - we want you to be safe, so only list Impromptu Meeting Announcements for public locations where there will be lots of people around!
If you want to hold meetings in your own home, send private messages ONLY to those people whom you know personally (never to strangers).
And yes, you are more than welcomed to gather up your friends and have your own personal Write-Ins at home with no need to get permission from us or post an announcement!
Pray
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Smile
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Dance
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Carpool
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Buy Used
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Volunteer
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Sleep Well
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Eat Mangos
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Laugh More
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Eat Almonds
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Plant a Tree
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Live Smaller
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Say I'm Sorry
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Plant Flowers
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Walk to Work
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Practice Yoga
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Eat Less Meat
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Go Vegetarian
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Say I Love You
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Ride Your Bike
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Walk to School
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Say Thank You
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Hug a Stranger
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Have Sex Often
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Eat Swiss Chard
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Avoid Pesticides
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Share Your Stuff
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Drink Apple Juice
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Walk to the Store
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Watch the Sunset
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Appreciate Others
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Play a Board Game
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Exercise Your Mind
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Eat Garbanzo Beans
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Watch the Sun Rise
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Practice Meditation
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Install a Ceiling Fan
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Bathe in Cool Water
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Develop Imagination
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Control Your Temper
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Interact with Others
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Reduce Sugar Intake
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Eat Rice Before Noon
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Get Up With the Sun
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Use Natural Cleaners
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Enjoy Music You Love
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Eat Fruit Before Noon
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Go to Sleep at Sunset
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Wash Dishes By Hand
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Line Dry Your Clothes
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Waste Not - Want Not
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Enjoy Simple Pleasures
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Watch the Tide Change
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Play With Your Children
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You Should of Had a V8
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Avoid Disposable Items
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Walk For Entertainment
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Take Vitamin B-Complex
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Recycle Food Packaging
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Eat Locally Grown Food
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Use Cloth Shopping Bags
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Use a Composting Toilet
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Buy In-Season Local Food
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Shop at Farmer's Markets
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Fast for a Day Each Week
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Unplug Unused Electronics
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Sleep For 8 Hours At Night
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Reduce Your Consumption
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Turn Your Thermostat Off
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Take Public Transportation
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Use Energy Star Appliances
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Drive Smarter - Drive Safer
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Wash Clothes in Cool Water
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Insulate Your Water Heater
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Buy Fresh Instead of Frozen
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Teach Your Kids to be Green
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Buy Recycled Paper Products
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Eat a Light Meal Every Night
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Use a Reusable Water Bottle
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Reuse Plastic and Paper Bags
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Eat Vegetables in the Evening
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Drink 64oz of Water Every Day
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Conserve Water and Electricity
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Use Compact Fluorescent Bulbs
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Use a Fan Not an Air Conditioner
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Turn Off The Lights During the Day
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Winterize Your Doors and Windows
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Turn Off Computer When Not in Use
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Convert Your Car to Run on Veggie Oil
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Don't Throw It Away - Give It to Charity
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Hold the Door for the Person Behind You
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Turn Water Off While Brushing Your Teeth
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Install Screens on Your Doors and Windows
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Eat a Heavy/Large Breakfast Every Morning
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Recycle Your Organic Waste - Make Compost
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Inflate Tires Properly for Improved Gas Mileage
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If You Can't Walk and Carry It Home Don't Buy It
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Don’t Wait for the Perfect Time to Do It, Start Today
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Most People Only Need a 1200 Calorie Diet NOT a 2000 One!
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Use Bamboo for Floors, Curtains, Bowls, Cutting Boards, etc
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Slow down - Driving 40 mph Instead of 70 mph Will Save Up To 4 Miles Per Gallon
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