DEVELOPMENTS

Before I went out Coal Creek this afternoon (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/05/if-that-is-key-component.html), I finished threading the hood drawstring through the last of the Baby Sweater Jackets I’ve been knitting up:

White jacket & jackets lineup. 6 MO (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/04/pocketed-baby-sweater-jacket-pattern-6.html)

I had an enjoyable time for 4 hours; good friends are a treasure ;-)

When I got home, I received a text from Bob’s youngest sister showing how she has had the bird feeder Bob built for her (that is a duplicate of the 1^st one he made, for me) refurbished, and perching on a ringed pergola that she can plant a climbing rose at the base of …

Rosie’s refurbished bird feeder, that is now a sided bird house. This Cross Design is Bob’s own design.

Bob would be pleased, I’m sure :-D

Meanwhile birds were gathering and enjoying the bird feeder Bob built for me, hanging here, at the last house we will ever have shared together – 2 things that are tangible and visual reflections of the life I shared with Bob a lifetime ago.

Bob liked watching the birds at the feeder; so do I:

Lesser Goldfinch

Turtledove

I always like seeing turtledoves. My Bazaar Business Name & Logo for years was “2 Turtledoves”. Turtledoves represent enduring love and peace of the deepest kind. Seeing a turtledove reminds me of the blessings of Elohim, and my spirit is immediately soothed.

Seeing those weather stained things Bob lovingly built for me had me thinking of safe ways to clean them up that would not harm the birds that frequent them. As soon as the nesting season is over, I am going to clean the feeder and bird house – they need cleaning.

==Bleaching bird feeders: https://www.ecomall.com/greenshopping/birdfeeders3.htm

==Bleaching bird houses: https://www.thespruce.com/clean-bird-houses-the-right-way-386629

Tomorrow while I am in town, I am going to pick up some new pots and move these coleus’ and blooming geranium outside …

These are new plants gained in my new life - they have nothing to do with my life with Bob. It's a small step forward . I bought the coleus's last summer, and started the blooming geranium from slips snipped from mother plants.

IF - THAT is the KEY Component

Today, at noon, I was spending the day with friends; visiting and sharing precious time together … and enjoying Supper together later on.

It was a time of refreshing, away from phone calls and media sources that spew fear and incite violence.

While President Trump and other politicians … as well as the general public keep saying we, as a Nation, are dealing with “an invisible enemy”, I don’t think that is accurate. Yes, we are dealing with an enemy – but it is not invisible, nor unknown. And we know it is seeking to destroy us, because its tool has said so.

                                                 

obama is an angry black homosexual racist, who praised islam and denounced Christianity his entire tyrannical 8 year political coup; obama is the feather in the demoncrats’ hats (they refer to him as their messiah) – and like king Sennacherib of ancient days, he has a glib tongue with which he cajoles the weak-minded and rebellious hearted: including undiscerning career {pastors} who do not know Elohim, but are worldly minded – being people pleasers rather than God-pleasers.

Covid-19 is still present. And, at my age, I am still considered ‘at risk’ But, death does not frighten me; and I am more concerned at the present about the fear this virus has caused to seep into minds, lives, businesses, politics, and churches (that should know better!). It concerns me that the demoncrat party is hourly provoking weak minded people to incite violence – and the face of the tool being manipulated by the enemy continues to flap his bitterly hateful yap; and refuses to understand he is NO LONGER prez: his OPINIONS concerning the current President is opinionated political wrangling of the most shameful sort – his opinions are whipping his minions into a violent frenzy that is doing more damage to this Nation than covid-19 ever could.

Over the past few days, I have seen a replay of the 1991 rodney king fiasco, where demoncrats then whipped the masses into a hateful frenzy that resulted in days of violent rioting/looting/murdering of people who were not black: it was the worst civil disturbance seen in the USA in the 20^th Century. Then, as now, the police did not respond quickly or with discernment – they hid themselves from the destruction happening in their neighborhood, and in their State … recently, President Trump has denounced the police of Minneapolis, that literally RAN from the violence instead of countering it and stopping the 6 days of violent rioting/looting/murder in the streets.

And police wonder why they “get no respect” – cowards are never respected.

What is happening today is not peaceful protests – it is bloody, destructive carnage. It is cowardly racial hatred fueled by politics. Incited by a man who STILL will not let go of his political coup. Applauded by his minions in the demoncrat party that have said they intend to “bring America to its knees”. They FAILED in attempt after attempt to bring this President, and this Nation, down to their level of insanity: they are hopelessly lost in an insane grip of hatred and are using race to fan the flames of their destructive bent.

And I feel sad and have pity for those in my immediate family who actually support this insanity; too stupefied by the rampant hate that they cannot understand that they are championing their own demise – if this Nation goes under, and succumbs to barak hussain obama’s {vision} for America continually foisted on US by a total RACIST and ANTI-American obamanite Congress, they – like those who bought the nazi lies of {protection} will find themselves in the SAME PRISIONS they think to avoid. Mad and rabid dogs eventually turn on each other; and tear each other apart.

I’ve had enough.

I’ve seen too much of this bitter and hateful insanity play out over the decades.

I’ve had an enjoyable 2 days of Shabbat Rest – where the world was shut out and the peace of Elohei was welcomed into my home and my life. I am extending that time of ‘island rest’ through the remainder of this day … and I’m thinking I may go MIA for a bit.

I can’t afford to get caught in the enemy’s snare. I am taking time to pray for myself, for America, for my family, and for all those who have swallowed the demoncrat lies and “know not what they do”.

Time is wrapping up – for me personally, and for the world in general: I need to make sure my heart is right and that I am ready to meet Yeshua when the time comes. I can't be sidelined by the chaos continually whipped up by racists bent on destruction. I don't want to find myself benched in the end game.

It is possible to have peace in the midst of the storm – I have experienced that peace several times in my lifetime when I keep my eyes on Yeshua and my mind on Elohei.

Even though I don’t know where this new path in my life will take me, I am not afraid of the unknown destination … or the continual chaotic frenzies. Elohei has led me through the scariest days of my life over the past 534 days (covid-19 hysterias & murderous rioting is nothing compared to what I have recently endured); and my amazing friends provided things I needed along my journey to support me, and aide me in walking forward with confidence.

My life with Bob’s love in it, opened many exciting doors for 44 years of my 63 years. And my ‘in the moment’ life, now – honoring my husband while restructuring a new life – will open many, many more doors: 1 for each new day I am granted as I walk this Earth solo lobo.

I don’t make time for nonsense.

                               

IF ... THAT is the KEY component to what ails America and Americans. It needs to start with The Church.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

It's the little things that trip us up.

Not everyday ... but some days.

Last year it was finding a lone package of Beef flavored Ramen Noodles that tripped me up. I was 6 months into widowhood, and memories were prodding raw emotions.

This year, it’s the sunburn on my nape, and across the top of my back.

When we were dating … and later, newly married, it was summertime, and Bob was outdoors a lot. He loved to water ski; and play rounds of golf after work – both activities done shirtless: he was beautifully tanned.

That beautiful chestnut tan …

Chestnut brown - by Summer's end, Bob's skin was this dark.

I would ‘tan’ too – but next to Bob’s darkly tanned skin, mine looked almost albino in contrast.

… came at the cost of being beautifully burned. Of course, I didn’t go on these forays with Bob, shirtless, but I did dress as skimpily as legally possible. And neither of us worried about skin cancer. It’s ironic that the one thing we should have worried about, and that doctors and scientists keep harping at us about (skin cancer) left him alone … and an insidious illness, neither one of us knew anything about – or saw coming down the pike, claimed him. I don’t worry about skin cancer for myself now: my philosophy is ‘what will be, will be. You can’t cheat appointed death.’

That said, I’ll get back to the sunburns: Bob’s, the summer of 1974; and mine this summer of 2020. My sunburn today itches like crazy as the skin heals itself; and the skin hurts to touch, so I try not to touch it too much. Bob’s sunburn in 1974 would tear, and I would peel it, so it didn’t look so scruffy. He’d lie across the bed, and I’d straddle his backside and peel the peeling skin off in one large section across his shoulders and down his back to his waist. Then I’d smear his back with cooling Noxema cream. He hated the smell of that stuff, but it soothed.

Bob had a beautiful body. And he had beautiful skin on that beautiful body.

I loved feasting my eyes on his beautifully tanned body.

When I close my eyes, and let my thoughts go back in time … I can clearly see myself standing on the dock at the River Rat tavern, watching him that summer of 1974 – in those short white cutoffs, water skiing the Columbia River behind his cousin’s jet boat with the hot sunshine making the water sparkle and his wet skin gleam while he did those triple ski jumps.

A golden god-like figure of a man.

My man.

And now, as then, I get a lump in my throat – though for entirely different reasons. Now, because Bob is no longer here with me. Then, because he was beauty in action.

I don’t need to be sunburnt to recall that river skiing vision.

But, inadvertently touching my tender sunburnt skin tonight did bring Bob and his sunburn occurrences to mind.

I'm further along in my solo lobo journey, and my emotions aren't so raw anymore.

And for a few minutes while those visions of days long past flitted past my mind's eye, I wished that I had the power to zap us both back to those hot summer days of 1974 when love was blooming and life was easy.

It’s the little things …