Just had one of those terrible conversations with Momma. We always start out alright but end up out of sight. I ended the conversation shortly when she accused me of giving my father all the credit for raising me. I won't even go into that, it's too frustrating. It's getting dark out. I dislike night time. I don't sleep like I should and my thoughts are not happy. I'm going to try and dwell on the Lord. How good be has been to me. If nothing else he gave me Christopher, Gloria and Angela. No one on earth could have had more luck than them.