Renee Camping, 128 Grant Avenue #114, Santa Fe (2025)

09/10/2025

Four months ago, I gave birth to my son. My husband never got to meet him because cancer took him when I was five months pregnant.
My life is midnight feedings, diapers, pumping, crying, and three hours of sleep. To keep us afloat, I clean an office downtown before the workday starts. Four hours a day. Just enough for rent and diapers. While I'm gone, my late husband's mom watches the baby.
One icy morning after my shift, on my way home, I heard it — a cry. Not a cat, not a puppy. A baby. Thin, desperate. I followed it to a bench near the bus stop.
There, in a flimsy blanket, was a newborn. Face red from screaming. Alone.
My hands shook as I scooped him up. He was freezing, starving. I ran home. My MIL gasped when I came. I explained between breaths.
I breastfed him beside my son, tears dripping onto his tiny head. But we knew — we had to call the police. Social services took him, and I sent along diapers, wipes, and bottles of pumped milk.
The next day, my phone rang. A deep male voice: "Is this Miranda? You found the baby?"
"Yes."
"You need to meet me today at 4. Write the address down."
When I saw the address, my blood ran cold. It was MY office building.
Why would they be calling me? Was I in trouble for feeding the baby? Would they fire me for taking him home instead of calling immediately?
At 4 sharp, a guard escorted me upstairs. The office smelled of leather and power. Behind a massive desk sat a silver-haired man.
He didn't introduce himself. He just said: "Sit." ⬇️

09/10/2025

Heartbreaking news 💔💔

09/10/2025

JOKE OF THE DAY: An elderly couple, Bert and Edna, are sitting on the porch swing one quiet Sunday evening.
They've been married for 55 years. The sun is setting, the birds are chirping, and they're both sipping lukewarm tea, watching squirrels fight over a Cheeto in the yard.
Out of the blue, Edna sighs and says, “Bert, let’s talk about our bucket lists.”
Bert raises an eyebrow. “Bucket lists? Edna, I’m 87. My list is down to ‘wake up tomorrow and remember where I put my pants.’”
Edna chuckles. “No, I’m serious. Before we go, we should each do something we’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance.”
Bert thinks for a moment. “Alright, fine. I’ve always wanted to go skydiving.”
Edna's eyes widen. “Skydiving?! Bert, the last time you bent down to tie your shoe, you passed out for three minutes.”
Bert shrugs. “Well, if I die mid-air, just let me land in the neighbor's garden. I’ve always wanted to haunt him.”
They laugh, and Edna nods. “Okay, okay. You go skydiving. I’ll do mine too.”
Bert squints. “And what’s yours?”
Edna suddenly gets this mischievous sparkle in her eye — the same one she had back in 1965 when she “accidentally” dropped Bert’s bowling trophy out the car window during an argument.
“I’ve always wanted to confess something to you, Bert.”
Bert gulps. “Confess what?”
Edna leans closer and whispers, “You know how your favorite recliner always mysteriously leaned to the left for 20 years?”
Bert nods. “Yeah, blamed the dog. Poor thing limped for weeks.”
Edna smiles. “Well, it was me. I jammed a spatula in the bottom after you spilled grape soda on my new curtains in ’89.”
Bert gasps. “You monster!”
Edna giggles. “And remember that time the remote kept changing the channel to the Hallmark channel, no matter what button you pressed?”
Bert blinks. “You said it was haunted!”
Edna smirks. “Nope. I glued a penny inside the battery compartment to short-circuit it. You never missed a single Christmas romance movie for five straight years.”
Bert’s mouth drops open. “Why would you do that?!”
Edna sips her tea, serene. “Because payback, dear, is best served with mistletoe and slow-motion snowball fights.”
After a long pause, Bert leans back in the swing and says, “You know what, Edna? I’ve got a confession too.” ⬇️ (Continuation in first comment)😂👇

09/10/2025

These are the consequences of sleeping with the... See more

09/10/2025

I'm 28, and my heart broke when my dad passed away. He wasn't just my father — he was my best friend.
I was the only one who took care of him until the very end — I was there for every hospital visit and sleepless night.
My younger sister, Emily, barely showed up — only when she needed something.
When the will was read, Dad LEFT ME $85,000 IN SAVINGS.
Emily was already planning her "dream wedding" — 150 guests, a luxury venue, champagne towers, fireworks.
But neither she nor her fiancé could afford it.
Then she started calling me non-stop:
"YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME $45,000! My wedding has to be perfect!"
I refused. Dad left the money to me so I could pay off my mortgage and cover some bills.
Then she snapped:
"Dad would have wanted you to spend it on ME! You can't even give me half? DON'T BE SO SELFISH!"
The next day, she came to my house. She was acting strangely, pacing and yelling:
"I need that money NOW! My wedding is coming up!"
I refused again. I even suggested she make her wedding smaller, but she wouldn't listen.
She slammed the door and left.
That evening, when I went to my bedroom, I noticed my safe was slightly open.
My stomach twisted. All the money WAS GONE.
Anger burned inside me — how could she do this to me?
But I decided to go to her wedding anyway. The plan was already forming in my mind.
When her big day came, I carried a LARGE GOLDEN BOX onto the stage.
Emily's eyes sparkled.
She tore off the wrapping, lifted the lid — and froze.
The crowd WENT SILENT.
Then she screamed:
"JESUS CHRIST, WHAT IS THIS?!" ⬇️

09/10/2025

I found a phone number and a note saying, "THIS IS BETWEEN US. NO ONE ELSE CAN KNOW," in my husband's coat — I bluffed to get to the bottom of it.
Although I was happy in my marriage, balancing my family life and my work as a photographer was always a delicate dance. One morning, the kids were playing, and Denton had left for work, tossing an old coat onto the donation pile the night before. "Just clearing out clutter," he'd said casually.
As I sorted through the pile, I felt something in the coat's pocket — a small, folded note. The handwriting was neat but hurried, and it sent a chill through me:
"THIS IS BETWEEN US. NO ONE ELSE CAN KNOW."
On the back was a phone number.
I froze, questions racing through my mind. Who wrote this? What was James hiding? That night, I acted normal, even as the note burned in my pocket. James laughed with the kids and kissed me goodnight as if nothing was wrong.
The next morning, after he left, I dialed the number.
"Hello?" a woman answered.
"I'D LIKE TO BOOK YOUR SERVICES!" I blurted, unsure if my bluff would work.
"If you have my number, you know the payment terms," she replied. "Come tomorrow at 2 p.m." And she gave me the address.
The next afternoon, as I stepped out of the taxi at 2 p.m., I was taken aback. "This is not at all what I expected," I thought, climbing the steps.⬇️

09/10/2025

Remove one thing from your home and you'll live longer: A 92-year-old cardiologist talks about health and the heart. 🤔🤯... See more

09/10/2025

I rebuilt my SIL's house after a hailstorm — she stiffed me for $18,800 and laughed in my face. But I got the last word.
⬇️⬇️⬇️
I’m 35, settled in Michigan with Sarah and two kids, and new to running my own contracting business. Finances are tight between materials, payroll, and credit cards, but doing right by people matters to me.
After a hailstorm hit, my SIL Tanya called, weeping:
"My roof's leaking! My garage is wrecked! I can't live like this!"
She’s family, so I agreed to help. She PROMISED repayment when the insurance arrived.
Three weeks of labor with my crew: new roof, siding, garage door, window frames, custom gutters. Sweltering 90° days. Family time sacrificed. $18.8k out on my credit cards.
Tanya thanked me with hugs, delivered cookies for my kids, and told everyone I was her "hero."
Work wrapped up in June.
By July? "Still waiting on the check."
August? "The adjuster messed up."
September? "They mailed it wrong, don’t stress!"
Next, Tanya pulls up in a sparkling new SUV, leather everything. Meanwhile, we scraped together dinner from canned ravioli.
"Tanya, did your insurance come in?" I ask.
"Oh yeah. Couple weeks ago," she replies, Starbucks cup in hand.
"Where’s my payment?"
She bursts out laughing,
"I thought since you're starting your business, it'd be good PORTFOLIO CASE. Besides, I babysat your kids for two hours — that counts, right?"
Couldn’t sleep that night; stewing in frustration.
For the housewarming, I phoned my team.
Next day, two of them swung by for a "warranty inspection." Their purpose wasn’t shingles. It was another "TASK." ⬇️

09/10/2025

I've been dating my fiancé, Brandon (32M), for just over a year. We got engaged two months ago. We'd started planning a wedding for next spring.
Then, a few weeks ago, Brandon said his mom, Janet, was organizing a beach vacation in South Carolina and really wanted me to come. He pitched it as she wanted to get to know me better.
I figured this was a chance to bond. We could use the time to relax before the chaos of wedding planning. So I agreed.
But that's when the real show began. When we arrived, Brandon said we'd be sleeping in SEPARATE rooms. He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, my mom thinks it's… improper to share a bed before marriage. Let's just respect her wishes, okay?"
So… I bit my tongue. I didn't want to cause waves. Yet.
Then the next morning, Janet "casually" asked me TO TIDY HER ROOM. She said, "The maid service here is outrageous, and since you're going to be the lady of the house soon, you might as well practice."
I smiled tightly and said I was going for a walk. But that wasn't even the worst of it.
On the second day, we were at the beach. Janet refused to lift a finger. She lay on her lounger like Cleopatra, barking orders at me.
"Honey, bring me a cocktail?"
"Can you reapply my sunscreen?"
"Would you mind RUBBING MY FEET? My bunions are acting up."
When I finally said, "Janet, I'm on vacation too. I'd rather not run back and forth while you're relaxing," her face froze. I swear it was like I'd just spit in church.
Brandon pulled me aside. "What's wrong with you?" he hissed. "You're being RUDE. My mom is trying to include you."
Include me? In what? The Help?
Still, I let it go.
Until Day Four.
That night, after dinner, I overheard something that made my blood run cold.
I'd gone upstairs early with a headache. But I realized I'd left my phone on the patio. As I quietly headed back down, I heard voices. Brandon and Janet.
Brandon said something so low I almost missed it. "Should we just tell her this NOW?" ⬇️

09/10/2025

Never heard of this before. Full article 👇 💬

09/10/2025

08/10/2025

ICON DEAD 😭💔 With heavy hearts, we announce the passing: Check the first comment ⤵️⤵️

Renee Camping

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