As per Bubbles request.

I think we need to open a commune for all us old, dysfunctional people. lol That would be a hoot.

So here it is, a place for those with a few miles and scars on them. Young ones are allowed and encouraged to read at their own risk, but perhaps some wisdom will come down through the ages to here.

Nahh..... we will all just bullshit like old folks who don't have anything else to do.

I'll start, I was born a really dysfunctional Spaniard in southeast Texas in 1955. I had 3 older sisters. My oldest, forged his birth certificate 3 times so he could go on working. They really didn't check things all that close back then and a Spanish birth certificate was something any moron could pound out on a typewriter. So, I don't know how old he was when he died, because they lied about it, for good reason.

But, my sister told me that he was 73 when he died and I was 12. That made him 61 when he finally sired a son. I'll bet he thought that he was the cock of the walk. I deeply respect and love him. He jumped on a ship when he was probably 16, they didn't check ages back then and didn't care, as long as you could pour and wipe oil along the drive shafts and not get your fingers caught. The man that took him was my grandfather, Andreas Fernandez, his mentor and friend. After a few years, Andreas introduced Felipe to his daughter, 20 years younger and said, "Meet your husband."

That was the way that it was done back then, and there was no quarrel. The daughters trusted their father's judgement so completely they never questioned it. By the grace of God and the true characters of my parents, this marriage endured some really hard times.

January 31, 1942
The Steam Ship Rochester
Off the coast of Carolina


News didn't travel instantly then like it did now. My mother only had a 4th grade education and could not read. My sister Margie got the paper and saw the news, she had to read it to my mom.

"Rochester Torpedoed and sunk. Four dead, thirteen missing."

My dad was one of the ones missing. Days went by, I can only imagine what she went through wondering if he was alive, clinging to that hope. Well, my dad was made from some tough stuff. He didn't stand 4' 11 but he was a true hellion. He, like me, probably had the "Little Big Man" syndrome also. Being born short of stature, we often find that we of all, must prove ourselves as a man. This fallacy got my ass kicked many times, but I digress.

It was a very cold morning in January. My father was a Lieutenant Commander sailing oil south to be refined. A U Boat slammed a torpedo into her rudder disabling her. Trying to save torpedoes, he surfaced and began to shell her with his small deck gun. Dead in the water, they began abandoning ship. My father went into the icy waters of the Atlantic that night. He found something to climb up on so he wouldn't freeze, then hung on for three days and two nights. We never could get him, he simply said, "I've swam enough." as he stared out to sea.

They were all navy men, here is his brother...



So, I wouldn't even have been here if not for the stamina of my father. He had 2 other ships torpedoed while he was aboard during WWI, WWII and Korea, but the Rochester sunk. That had to really suck. I wonder how I would stack up against him. He died when I was quite young and the pieces that I have picked up are from asking and looking, but he was one hell of a man. Look at him, then look at me, we are the same. He sired me at 61, but we are carbon copies.










So tell me about your mammy and your pappy, I'm listening.

I could not have hand picked better parents. My Dad worked at the Texas Company in Port Neches. He lied about his age and started working at age 16. Mom was a homemaker and one of the best cooks I have ever known. Dad retired after 46 years of work. He passed away in 1979 of a massive heart attack. He was never sick a day of his life. My mom passed away in 1994 from cancer. My parents were very loving and very lenient with me. But they instilled some very good morals and values in me while growing up.
I was my daddys " little boy". I rode horses since age 3, worked cattle when I was a little older and baled hay with all the boys. We weren't rich but we had the richest life I could have known.
I married and had 3 children, 2 boys and a girl. Had a very difficult marriage for 30 years but thought I couldn't leave and take care of my kids alone. But that changed also.
I lost my first son in 1964 due to suicide. I lost my other son in 2009 due to cancer. My daughter lives just down the road with her husband and 2 of my grandchildren. My oldest son also gave me a grandson before he died. I love my daughter and my grandchildren more than life itself.
Remarried in 1994 to my best friend, bobby, and have been happy since. Retired in 2004 and moved to the little town of Kirbyville. Started raising Quarter Horses and loved it.
I am just an old cowgirl and always will be. I love my life and hope to have many more years to enjoy it.