It was still raining when I
woke up this morning 😁. Not a lot of rain, but enough to keep things
wet – and wet is what we need 👏🙏👍
t was not a lot of rain, but it was some - some is better than none.
I went online to research
the wildfire status this morning, but quickly deduced that that route would
lead nowhere but angry. Fast. I refuse to have my eyes and thoughts
assaulted by biased twaddle designed to pull stupids in: and swayed to
the demonrat agenda.
Any article that takes a putrid turn from actual
facts concerning the wildfires, and starts bitching about the need for ‘climate
change!’ and accusations thrown President Trump’s way … is garbage to me. And I
treat it as such.
Biased written {news} articles, biased phone {news} updates, biased online search engines ... I shut them all off.
President Trump has for
months, consistently offered help to PNW States – and the overgrown brat
governors, newsom, brown, and inslee – have for months thumbed their elitist
noses/stuck their waspish tongues out at his offers: defiantly telling him, and
the rest of America, that they “do not want or need his kind of help!” For
months, while they marched with riotous crowds, arm-in-arm with blm anarchists;
gave entire cities over to firebugs to be destroyed, and forced white
Christians to wear masks under threat of fined imprisonment, while stating
‘people of color’ can be maskless (and they were, with no penalties) …
President Trump was offering to send them help to get control of the
out-of-control activities. All the self-retarded PNW governors and mayors
did was hatefully bitch, blatantly mock, arrogantly threaten, and ignorantly
renounce/deny help: stating they didn’t want, need, or appreciate his offers
for help.
Anyone with a rational
functioning brain could see where governors applauding firebugs, would lead:
what is happening is insanity at its height. That people in the PNW would actually try to
claim that these fires are not caused by malicious activity is ludicrous. Yes,
there are some fires caused naturally by a too dry season … BUT there are also
many fires caused by anarchist activity.
People have been caught setting fires!
For months the demonrat
media sources have gleefully reported,
applauded, and shown in living color fires set in cities … and brazen
cold-blooded race-based murders in Portland, OR streets … by blm terrorists.
To try to deny facts is crazy. To blame President Trump for the raging PMW
wildfires is really beyond the pale.
American law-abiding
Citizens are not stupid. They are not blind. They cannot be brainwashed.
“Climate Change!” has nothing
at all to do with deliberate human activity designed to destroy. The whole
‘climate change’ mantra is a scientific hoax. The truth is that earth cycles –
this cycle has been happening since Earth was designed and created; this cycling
is a necessary component to life on Earth. There is no mystery. Life involves
death – no one can get away from that fact … and science cannot tweak that fact
with ridiculous twaddle. Even dinosaurs could not escape their period of
Earth’s cycle: and Trump wasn't even around then, though I am sure some "scientific" eco-freak will find a way to blame him for the demise of the dinosaurs, too.
((((WAKE UP PEOPLE!))))
newsom, in calimexarabia, is
starting to acknowledge that the way “science” according to the faulty eco-nonsense
has so far “managed” forest land has been a dismal and disastrous failure.
brown, in deadhead oregon, is loosening her tight ass and begrudgingly
“requesting Presidential help” … a little too late … but finally seeing that
hate is not beneficial. inslee, washington state’s own special idiot, is still
being an asshole – and has drafted yet another ‘open letter’ directed to
President Trump, mocking/belittling and blaming instead of acting like a rational
leader. inslee needs to go; he is a worthless tool – goosestepping to demonrat
propaganda that is running our state into the ground waaaaay more than 6 feet
under. And of course, clueless biden needs to be pulled off center stage and
treated for dementia: he is out of touch with reality and babbling like the idiot
he is.
Exiting all media outlets,
and jumping off the political Crazy Train circuit (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDZtbBZuqb0),
my mind touched on this time, last year. Last year, the rains came too – with a
little more deluge, and no enthusiasm at all: {{I posted to FB, September 15th,
2019: It is raining cats and dogs here – normally that would not bother me.
I live in the PNW. Rain falls 95% of the time here; it is a rainforest region.
But, today I am crying as much water as the clouds are pouring on us today. All
I can think about is Bob’s cremains in Eden Valley. Under a deluge of rainfall.
It is morbid, I know. But my mind just “goes there” while the rain falls
outside the windows of our home … and the thought makes me cry.}}
I had, only weeks before,
placed Bob’s cremains in the cemetery; and though I knew that Bob really
wasn’t in that hole in the ground … I was still thinking like a wife:
I knew he hated the cold wet weather that was bearing down on our region, and I
knew he hated the pitch-black dark. Rationally, I knew his spirit was
free from the ashy residue I had personally lowered into the ground – and that
his free-floating spirit was not feeling any discomfort at all. But my
grieving mind was not thinking logically: I was illogically still
thinking like a wife to a flesh and blood man.
Realistically, I knew
that Bob would never experience darkness again. But my heart was having a hard
time coming to terms with our new status – his, and mine. I spent a lot of time
last year still behaving like a comforting wife.
I would almost panic at the
thought of not being able to get to the cemetery to visit our plot and keep it
tidy, and tended. I wanted Bob to know that I had not forgotten him.
Setting up placement marker's; really this was actually for for my benefit. Bob wasn't here to care. And there is no reason to care, beyond the clouds.
I drove to Eden Valley every
week, from August 30th to November 20th – sometimes
several times a week leading up to the last 2019 visit, November 20th.
Walking among the family headstones, and knowing Bob’s cremains were resting in
the familial cemetery among his relatives who came west after the Civil War and
laid the foundation of the cemetery – his great-great Grandfather Smalley, his Uncles,
Aunts, Cousins, Grandparents … and his father, helped stitch my broken heart
back together. It soothed my wounded spirit. If I was facing a difficult
time, or going through a hard situation, I would drive to Eden Valley to talk
to the breeze blowing through the cemetery. I planted crocuses on our plot
block, hoping they would bloom in the Spring.
Our plot block became like a room in our home … I took care of it, and kept it ‘comfortable’. Just in case Bob’s spirit was passing that way.
I wanted real color to surround Bob's cremains placement instead of the fake, plastic color. I wanted life to spring forth from the barreness of the cemetery. (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/destination-locations_20.html)
I know.
It sounds a little off-kilter.
But a widow’s emotions,
thoughts, and actions are a little irrational before she finds balance
in her unfamiliar upturned life.
Bob wasn’t there, of course …
and I am willing to bet he really didn’t care if I visited every month, or not.
But I cared.
Bob wasn’t there.
I knew his essence has flown away.
But some of his
earthen vessel was buried there.
I needed the comfort of being as close to those remnants as possible.
As nutty as it sounds, my body actually calmed down just by being in the vicinity of what remained of his body.
My thoughts are a little more adjusted this
year.
Also, today
– last year, I was waking to the gentle sound of rainfall running
down the gutters: missing Bob, and remembering the ringtone he had on his old
cell phone for my phone number. I cried – but I also laughed.
And that memory still brings a smile to my lips
😉
This
morning, after deducing that more {news} info about the wildfires would only
upset me with the blatant biased political leanings; I decided I was done
sitting on my duff staring out the window, when there was stuff needing to be
done outside that wasn’t going to “do” itself. And aimless idleness was driving
me up the proverbial “wall”. So, I mentally estimated the risks of spending
time outside running back and forth under the low-lying smoke cloud … and
figured it would be worth it. I mean, if my heart was going to be ‘worked up’ –
it may as well be worked up on activity that would be beneficial.
And, I
wanted to fight back against the heaviness of sorrow that unrelenting imp,
Grief, will try to drag back into my life; with the shortening of the days, the
darkness of the overcast skies, the inactivity of the coming months.
I have diligently
worked hard to suture my torn heart back together – I refuse to allow Grief even
the slightest opportunity to reopen that yawning bleak void.
Activity is
my rebellious act to rage against the overwhelming sorrow of my soul. I know
Yeshua understands this type of soul-sorrow missingness: He felt the heavy
weight of sorrow in the Garden of Gethsemane … He understands that I am
literally engaged in a fight for my life. He understands that I will do
anything and everything I possibly can to fight against surrendering to the
tidal wave of crushing ‘missingness’ that tormenting imp, Grief, can drag into
my life under the gloomy atmosphere of the PNW right now.
I walked
back to the bedroom and slipped out of my pj’s, and pulled some outside
clothing on; defiantly snubbing Grief in the process 😉
Breaking loose. I need to get outside and get things done that need doing.
70-degrees and smokey outside.
My life story 😉
As soon as
I stepped outside, my lungs did feel the immediate effects of the smokey
atmosphere. But, I know my own body: I know how to pace myself, and figured
that if I did not race back and forth at turbo speed to get the tasks done, I
would be okay long enough to safely get most of what needed done, done.
All of life is a risk – know what risks are worth your time and effort.
Putting geraniums in their bins for overwintering under front porch.
Bin-less geraniums stored overwinter in the Shed. Since I gave Bob's table saws to his youngest brother, Kerry, Bob's tool shed is morphing into my potting shed.
I know the
geraniums are only plants, but the years and seasons of my life to date can be
recounted in the years these geraniums represent. I did not want to lose a
single one of them to the overflow effects of wildfires miles away
from here.
My lungs
were burning while I was outside – but they survived without going into panic
mode and sending me into a full-blown asthmatic attack, which would have been
very frightening to go through alone: it was scary enough experiencing them
with Bob’s comforting presence.
Thank
You, Lord, for protecting me; and helping me do what needed done.
My eyes did
burn – but they burn inside too, in the stale air.
My
heartrate did accelerate – but I know the danger signs to be aware of … and
they were not apparent. My heart was under duress because my lungs were
struggling: they both eventually found a rhythm, that suited, so I could get
the tasks done with a pace that kept everything on an even-keel.
I was outside 1 hour. Struggling to breathe & a bit shakey, but okay.
I don't let my limitations hamstring me. I'll be okay in a bit.
Everything
was stressed a bit; but I’m okay – this is normal for me. Cleaning house, or
chasing after kids can … and did, on occasion … have the same effects on my
life. Like I said, I know the signs and how to pace myself accordingly
to live a full, active, and happy life.
A sudden, searing
foot pain that refused to back down as I was walking through the beach rock to
put some bin-less geraniums in the Shed, is what really drove me inside.
I was pushing
the envelope with the shortness of breath, so I’m thinking the foot pain
was a reminder from Elohim that it was time to call it a day and get out of
the smokey atmosphere.
O.M.G! The painful burn threatened to steal my breath away …
A pulled arch tendon is what really forced me inside.
Last time this happened was in 1975. Resting totally today.
So, I came
in, hobbled to the bathroom cabinet and retrieved 2 Ibuprofen tablets to
relieve the inflammation. And I grabbed the ice pack from the freezer too.
The arch area throbbed and burned for a while, but it’s fine now.
Pretty much sums things up 😉
When I
could stand on my foot without discomfort, I potted some geranium clippings I had brought in the house with me –
these either fell off during transport to bins, or were pinched from the original
plants because they were too tall for the bins. I had success with overwintering
clippings last year, so I hope these ‘take’ too: especially the clove-scented
ones!
I miss Bob’s sideline cheerleading; he would be rooting with me for my rooting to take hold and succeed …
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