SMOKE & ICE

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 15^th, 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 30^th to November 20^th – sometimes several times a week leading up to the last 2019 visit, November 20^th. 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 😉

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/09/i-remember.html)

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 …