September, you're such a creeper. Where did you even come from? I love fall -- it's my absolute favorite time of year. The sweatshirts come out of hiding, although mine always need a tumble in the dryer to get rid of that unused smell. I don't know what lurks on my closet shelves, but I wish there was a button to press to keep all your clothes smelling fresh.
My latest post on the Bargain Hunter website was the start of a new endeavor for me. Once a month, I'm going to be writing a new installment on the life of my husband Antonio (a.k.a. George). And yes, we'll eventually get to the story of why he's called George instead of the much sweeter Antonio! When I met him, in spurts I got the whole incredible tale and how it unspooled. From his dad's death, the stepfather from hell and the torturous abuse he suffered at his hands, to being lost on the streets from the ages of six to nine. Let's not leave out living in Acapulco alone at ten years of age, making his way to the U.S., and becoming an expert at traveling on the underbelly of freight trains. He's been all over, brushing paths with the cartels and gangs, getting involved with drugs, and finally praying for a way out of it all. His story is hard to swallow, but for the twenty-two years we've been together, we both know it needed to be told. I wasn't ready before, and I'm not sure I'm ready now -- all I know is that it's time to write. My fingers may type truths that are unbelievable, but with the climate that is pervasive in the USA today, his story needs to be told. His is only one story, but it tells hard truths. We need to hear these truths instead of going along blindly with what the media feeds us.