The abuse continues......

When morning would come, another night over, they were always the worst.  I do not remember days being bad, never wonderful, but not like nights.    I used to pray for company, any, because he would be a little more guarded when we had people over.   My dad was strange, as abusive as he was to my mother, our animals, other men, us girls was protected as far as anyone ever coming near us, protected from swearing, anything bad, yet, he was our worse abuser by abusing our mother, animals etc. go figure.
By the time I was in Kindergarten, he worked very little, usually because of his drunk driving tickets, in and out of jail.  I remember me, my mother and sister getting up so early in the morning to go to the jail to pick him up from jail so he could go to work at the local sawmill.  I was laying on the floor of he car with a blanket and throwing up from being a combination of car sick and hungry.  Even though he worked, a little, his money all went to booze.  I remember many mornings going to school with no breakfast.  If we had any, it would be toast (no butter) with some of my moms coffee poured on it, or if we did happen to have butter, we would have bread, butter with sugar poured on it. Our toys were a couple Pabst Blue Ribbon beer cans that I would pretend was my hooves for my horses and would run around the yard pretending to be a horse.  I really do not ever remember having a regular toy of any kind.  

The "shack" was probably the worst house we lived in, size, condition and we seemed to be the poorest during that time.  I also came down with pneumonia and rheumatic fever during the time we lived in that house.  I remember laying on the couch, I had been sick for about 4 days, when my dad told me I should get up and get a little exersize, when I tried, I fell to the floor.  I was taken to the hospital by a Aunt.  I spend about a month in the hospital, with rarely seeing either parent.  We had no car and with dad being gone and drunk most of the time, my mom had no way of coming to see me.  Horrible feeling, day after day, night after night, never seeing a parent or relative as a sick little girl.  I remember thinking, I hope Donna was okay without me there to sleep with her and keep her safe from the screams of the night.