DEMONCRAT RHETORIC SCARING THE PUBLIC

The demoncrats are at it again, scaring the public and blaming President Trump for the coronavirus outbreak. According the them, he created it, he weaponized it, and he is dooming Americans.

In another lame-brained political coup attempt, the demoncrats are staging scare tactics photo-ops for their equally deranged minions.

(https://thehill.com/homenews/house/486202-pelosi-knocks-trump-accusing-president-of-spreading-falsehoods-about)

(https://www.newsweek.com/chuck-schumer-accuses-trump-hiding-truth-after-report-claims-pence-will-control-public-1489632)

schumer and pelosi need to back off, shut up, sit down … and let President Trump do the job he was hired to do. I really cannot stand to hear either of them speak – they are so narcissistic; they are getting in the way of what needs to be done. And what IS BEING DONE.

(https://www.foxnews.com/media/sen-john-barrasso-disturbing-to-see-schumer-dems-politicize-coronavirus)

pelosi and schumer HAVE NO SOLUTIONS, themselves. They just whine and bitch. And make problem-solving difficult.

Someone – PLEASE – slap a muzzle on chuckie-boy’s motorized slashing mouth; and yank the pen out of crazy nervous nancy’s clawed paws.

This virus seems to pop up where ever it will – whenever it will. First it was reported it originated in a bloody Chinese meat market, from raw infected butchered animals … that may, or may not, have been sold from a laboratory lab to feed the populace. Then, the information fed to the world media sources was that it spreads from animal-human contact. Then, it was reported that it spread from coughs, sneezes, and fecal matter: but first you have to be exposed to an infected person or animal, to be infected. Then, it was fed out that now it’s just cropping up in communities: for no known reason – just {boom!} it’s there. Some countries are already calling it a pandemic.

One MORE thing to push the hype for mandatory vaccines.

One MORE thing for the lead demoncrat demons, schumer and pelosi to bitch about; and parade about on stage.

One MORE thing to whip the public into a fearful mass.

The President’s job has been politically compromised and made more difficult. Because of pure hatred that has no bounds – and is spreading like an epidemic.

What do I believe about coronavirus?

Does it really matter?

If it really IS “an epidemic of pandemic proportions”, a mandatory vaccine will take too long to create; and initiate … 4 “cures” need to be found and implicated before the vaccine even comes into play. Even with a vaccine, pandemics will run their course before burning out. Viruses always come back – and they eventually burn out: to come back. It’s a vicious cycle. And vaccines are no guarantee that a virus won’t jump the vaccine.

Add to that chancy situation, that people with sketchy immune systems are not benefitted at all by compromising vaccines: vaccines intended to help them, may actually kill them quicker than the virus.

Bottom line: it’s a crap-shoot no mater how the dice are thrown.

I live in WA State. When I heard the coronavirus has come through Seattle airport, I recognized that it was only a matter of time before an outbreak happened in the State along I-5. The I-5 is not that far from where I live … about a 15 minute drive. People can carry the virus in their body for 2 weeks before experiencing symptoms. A LOT OF TRAFFIC MOVES ALONG I-5. A lot of businesses are frequented by travelers. Those business owners, managers, and employees all have spouses and children they go home to. They have parents, siblings, Aunts/Uncles, cousins – and friends they visit. Germs go piggyback; unseen, unknown.

(https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/us/coronavirus-us-cases.html)

Does it help to have demoncrats undermining the President, and shouting fearmongering rhetoric into biased social media mics? It reminded me of the early Hepatitis C, AIDS, Ebola, and MRSA epidemic outbreaks, where hate-filled fear was spewed by hate-filled people with an agenda.

Do people really feel secure health-wise when they see sanitization containers on every available surface in every establishment they visit? They sanitize their hands … then they grab the door handles and cart handles. Barehanded. Already the sanitization “protection” is compromised.

Are fearful people really going to stay cloistered in their homes – afraid to go out and have people come in?

INDEFINATELY?

Are schools, businesses, County Offices, restaurants, and tourist establishments, ect., going to close their doors indefinitely?

I don’t know what the answer is.

I don’t know what the solution is.

WHAT I DO KNOW, is that I am not going to be hamstrung by demoncrat demons schumer and pelosi – and their DC Gang – intent on politicizing e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g., and hogging the limelight with fear-mongering rhetoric.

We live in a fast-paced world now where globetrotters are all over the Earth.

We live in a world where obama worshippers; primary political obamanites ... schumer and pelosi, preach open-borders, tent cities, rampant needle drug use and promiscuous, risky, sexual activity.

WITH NO RESTRICTIONS.

We live in a politically enhanced hot house society; where disease is bred, pushed hard, and flourishes at epidemic rate.

WITH NO RESTRICTIONS.

Is it any wonder that pandemics are running wild?

Life is for living.

Wisdom is needed to enjoy living life.

And THAT is what I am going to employ.

And DO.

I have eaten Supper w-, drank coffee w-, and hugged a sister … and a fellowship friend who are Hep C positive. I have hugged people who have lived with AIDS until their time ran out; I visit with friends who have children infected with AIDS. I have family and friends dealing with MRSA – and I am not afraid to spend time with them.

In September 2018, ER attendants told us Bob’s test runs showed that Bob had MRSA complications … we were shocked, but pretty much knew how that could happen, if that was the case; it would have happened at work, where trucks are shared, and there is an infected person working there. Bob had been retired for years, so the infection had to have been lurking in his body that long. Without a clue. We would not have even known Bob was seriously ill if not for the sudden onset of stress-induced pancreatitis that landed him in ER. Aside from the vomiting, a result of the stressful fallout – the vomiting is why I insisted he go to ER – Bob hadn't been exhibiting any signs of serious illness.

We were shocked with both the diagnosis of pancreatitis ... and that followed by the test results showing MRSA in his blood, which led to sepsis. There was NO CLUE any of this was happening in his body.

And, being married to him for 44 years at the time, and being in close contact with him; having access to his body and body fluids, there was concern.

But ...

I am fine.

Healthy and sassy.

Life is short.

I’m not going to hide behind fear while life passes me by.

I'm not going to allow political lapdogs with a political agenda to dictate to me how to live.

When all is said and done; all we can really do, is enjoy life – and trust Elohim with our life.

EXEMPT

Today was another “castle” day.

With the cost of everything going up, up, up … and Social Security only granting me a piddly 28 cent increase on my monthly draw on the monies Bob & I both worked for and should rightfully expect; I went into town today to apply for Senior Home Ownership Property Tax Exemption – I went for the exemption, because a total deferral would end up with a lien placed against my home: I don’t want that. Filling out the paperwork, and getting the processing started, I made the clerk repeat everything several times: I wanted to be sure I understood my options clearly and that she understood why I needed to understand.

She was patient.

And I was tenacious ;-)

When all was said, and done, I qualified.

I still had to pay the full half-amount for April 2020, but October’s half should be quite a bit lower. I feel pretty good about getting this done, and getting it done without anger, or the frustration of not being understood. Maybe things went smoothly because my emotions are not so raw this year; maybe things went easier because it was a new girl behind the counter. Last time I had to deal with Court House minions concerning Home Ownership, it didn’t go well for anyone. Today was a LOT easier, and a lot kinder: all the way around.

I was every bit Bob’s Queen today.

But I didn’t have a princess attitude ;-)

Bob, if he was watching me, was proud of me.

I also got a workout – not like I do in Castle Rock, Mondays & Wednesdays; but I did get a cardio workout, my lungs got a little stressed, and muscles/joints were put to the task this morning. When I first parked at the Court House, I got a spot right at the door … but I had to run home quick, and grab some required papers to finish the application, and when I returned the second time, there were no available parking spaces close to the building: I had to park down by the bridge and walk back uphill to the Court House. I was huffing and puffing by the time I reached the door. And the stairs were dicey too. The Court House really should have a Senior friendly access to the second floor. I managed – but barely; it wouldn’t have been so challenging if I hadn’t had to walk half a mile straight uphill, first.

I’ll have to reapply 4 years from today.

That finished, I got into my car and drove across the street to Izzy’s for lunch. It’s the only real Buffet in town, and I was hungry.

I always liked cross words puzzles, and word searches: Bob came to like word searches too; there was always at least one Word Search Book in our vehicles, for times like today, where a wait with time to kill put the book into action. So, I did 2 searches; I could have done more, but I am going through the book slowly. I’m not anxious to finish it.

Qualified, and sated, I turned the car towards home.

I went home via Industrial way because I had one more thing to accomplish. I needed to stop at Steele’s Memorial Park (aka.: funeral home), and make some changes to the notations for my Plan. I had made arrangements for my Funeral Plan when I settled Bob’s cremation arrangements, December 14^th, 2018, after coming back home from OHSU, in Oregon. The changes were small; but they are necessary. My husband is no longer here, and I can’t depend on the kids to make sure my wishes are carried out – so, the kids are now exempt from the familial duty they shun. I employed the funeral home to make sure I actually get to Eden Valley when my Heavenly Summons occurs … and I had Merry & Kerry’s names added to the Memorial Park “contact information”: Merry & Kerry both have house keys, and they know where my Cremains Box is waiting for pickup when needed.

My Cremains Box – exactly like Bob’s

Merry is my age, so she said that if she isn’t available to do that, she will make sure her girls follow through. I appreciate that. I’m pretty sure Kerry will do the same with his son, Kasey. I am grateful.

All Merry & Kerry have to do, is make sure the Box gets to Steele’s – Steele’s will make sure my boxed cremains get to Eden Valley to be placed with Bob’s.

September 3^rd, 2019, I placed this marker for Bob’s precise location so I never lose sight of it.

I know I sound like I am obsessed with this, but it’s important.

When my mother died well over a decade ago, her cremains were abandoned by her husband, Alan. Her 4^th husband, and the worst of the lot. Because Alan had talked her into naming him as Executor instead of my brother, Mahlon, who had always been named; when she died ... Alan left her cremains at the Mortuary in Idaho; where they’ve no doubt been trashed by now. Alan was the only person who could legally claim them. And he didn’t. Instead he came back here, to WA State and cleaned the house out. He hauled all the furniture away. Trashed the Photo Albums, antique Bible, and my father’s Military Photo Albums (Army, Navy, Marines, and Air Force – those were always to go to Mahlon). The only thing Alan honored my mother with was to make sure Sam got the house free and clear. Everyone else got screwed over. Including my mother.

I don’t want that kind of screwing happening to me.

I do not want my cremains to end up in a trash pile behind the funeral home because nobody claimed them.

So, I set my own Plans in order, in December of 2018 – and again this week, with the house keys given to Merry & Kerry; and the contact info update.

I am thankful and grateful that Merry & Kerry like me well enough to honor Bob’s memory by honoring the woman their brother loved.

And, it goes without saying, that if The Rapture happens … everyone is exempt from honoring my wishes :-D

Now that the dying arrangements have been attended to and settled, it’s time to get living fully underway ;-)

MOD VIOLA CROCKPOT DUSTCOVER

Viola trim - top view. I like it :-D

Today was a busy day.

I am really enjoying the 45 minute exercise thing in Castle Rock :-D But, I am noticing strain marks on my neck and collar bone area:

Red strain marks – the result of upper body strength exercises, using weights (3 lbs), look like freckles. They should disappear, eventually.

 

I like using weights … 5 years ago, I was easily weightlifting 120 pounds overhead from an overhead position on my weight bench – Bob didn’t believe I could lift that much, until he spotted me one afternoon. But 3 pound weights are all the Senior Center has on hand, so I have been using 2 at a time – in each hand. Eventually, I want to bump that up. Not having grandchildren … or great-grands to lift, cuddle, heft as they grow … and pretty much vegging out, and not doing anything more strenuous that lifting a coffee cup since becoming a widow, has weakened my upper body. Hence the strain marks on my upper body area. From 6 pounds in each hand! It’s pathetic.

But my skin has always been quick to show strain marks. Strenuous sneezing from hay fever or a cold, or coughing from an asthmatic flareup, can make strain marks on my face that makes me look like I’ve gone through a meat grinder. Once, when we were newlyweds and Bob snuck up on me in a playful mood – spinning me around quick and throwing me over his shoulder in a cave man mimic … I was dangling down his back as he ran around the house with me, being silly – and me squealing, equally silly: I could feel the blood rushing to my face, and I told him to put me down. He eventually did, but the damage was done, really as soon as he threw me over his shoulder and my head was in a downward position. Strain marks immediately marked my face, eyelids, neck: it was awful. Poor Bob; he felt so bad. He never did that again.

So, when these freckly marks showed up on my neck the other day, I knew the weighty exercises had caused it. As my muscles get used to being worked though, that should go away.

After my session this morning, I went to Keenager’s and had a good time of easy convo and good fellowship.

After that came to a close, I picked up the Kelso SC Itinerary, grabbed some kitchen garbage bags & door hooks at the $ Store; and met up with Bob’s youngest brother Kerry, in town, for a few minutes before heading home.

Back home, I finished up the crockpot dust cover I have been working on.

I chose Johnny-Jump Up violas for the trim; I like these flowers, and let them pretty much run wild outside: they reseed very easily, and are very pretty little flowers. I also put them in my green salads – so they should have a place in my Spring-theme Dustcover lineup ;-)

I decided on a stripy sc pattern

I used DC stitch on the final upper lap

Edged with a picot edging

MOD Viola Crockpot Dustcover. FINISHED!

Dustcover finished, I put my bath hooks in place:

Spare Bath Hook: pretty high up, for me … but I need the stretch to stay flexible, so I’m not complaining too vociferously ;-)

Door protected by adhesive-backed, cushioned Door Bumpers.

I had to haul my kitchen step-ladder into the bedroom to figure this latch out. I refused to feel stupid. I prefer to consider the activity, “educational” ;-)

I had intended to put a hook on the Master Bath door, too, but there was not enough overhead clearance – the hook’s hook kept coming up against the molding when I tried to shut the door.

So, I grabbed the hammer and a small pair of pliers that would fit my hand comfortably, and went to work pounding, and tweaking the hook’s hook until I was satisfied with the new shaping. I also stuck adhesive-backed Door Protectors on the back of this hook too. No matter where we lived, ‘resell issues’ are always in my mind when adding things like this hook – I don’t want to mar the doors with unprotected metal.

The hook may look weird where it’s at, but it works for me – and it’s not a permanent fixture.

We hadn’t had time to fully move into our new home, here on Earth, before Bob went Home beyond the clouds: Bob only lived with me here for 18 months, before the next-door neighbor’s paranoid bitching killed him …

Repeat Posting from July 30^th, 2019

Last year was pretty much a blur.

A painful blur.

A scary moving forward blur.

Disjointed and surreal.

This year – now: today – is still surreal most days, but then there are days like today … where I’m living in the moment, and bringing life to the home we bought together and started setting up together.

It’s small ‘life’.

But it’s life, just the same.

I mentioned earlier that I had stopped at the $ Tree to buy garbage bags while downtown – well, I also bought 2 glass vases and 2 bunches of silk flowers: keeping with the Spring Flowers theme. Silk flowers are the safest thing right now; last year I had bought a couple house plants … and they died from neglect because my brain kept misfiring. I cried a lot last year – but the houseplants didn’t get watered. So, I think I’ll stick with silk flowers to brighten the place up until my brain finds balance again and I can stay on track with living things.

Master bath

Kitchen

I’m making an effort to try bringing a small bit of life back into our home, this year.

All the boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet before I was planning a Celebration of Life for the love of my life, have finally been unpacked.

There are still 2 boxes left to unpack form the disastrous November 2019 proposed move down south. Those may take time to get to – when I look at them, the pain of that ridiculous ordeal washes over me again … and I walk out of the room. I tend to procrastinate doing things that have pain attached to them. I am a wuss when it comes to pain; physical or emotional. They will eventually get unpacked, but for the moment, I am ignoring them. There’s nothing in them that I need now – in the moment: it’s just stuff.

What I need is to continue moving forward, with peace of mind.

And that isn’t easy.

This house was to be our last hurrah. Our retirement ‘island in the stream’ where we would, finally, be able to slow down and enjoy peaceful golden years. The low-maintenance place, where Bob could kick back and relax. The home “where the heart is”.

Instead we were – against our will – pulled into a nightmare scenario; the end result being my husband’s death.

My heart is with Bob; his embrace was my home.

This humble castle is nice … Bob did good buying it … but, it is not a “home”, in comparison to Bob, who was my real “home”.

I have to let go of that kind of thinking. I know I do.

But, it’s hard.

So, I let go in small steps.

I have kept a bare minimum of all the tools Bob had: I’ve kept just enough to keep home maintenance and management going smooth – they are pieces of our life together; things my husband’s hands touched. Things my husband showed me to use properly and effectively. When I use them, I feel close to him, close to the life we shared. The life I don’t want to let go of. These things hold memories of a lifetime once filled with love and life. Bob’s son from his first marriage took some tools before he removed himself from my life; and I gave the rest to Kerry.

I know that to move forward and live my new life successfully, I need to clear things out and keep only significant treasures. But ALL of Bob’s things are significant to me. All of his things represent his life. Half of them represent his life with me; his love for me. I have given a lot of stuff away, and I have cleared a lot of stuff out. I know that I can’t build a future living in the past. I also know that finding a happy medium is a hard task to undertake. Figuring out how to hold onto pieces of our life, while trying to pave a road forward is frustrating because every thought and every action is tripwired with a lurking emotion.

And yet, I am noticing that with the dawning of 2020, the frustrations are couched in positive ambiance.

The wrapping up of 2018, and the incoming turbulence of 2019, had me overwhelmed with all the sudden changes. Indecision ruled for 13 long and hard months.

Now, in the 3^rd month of 2020, I am looking around our home that has unequivocally morphed into my home … and I realize that I am walking through it with a lighter step that wasn’t there a month ago. I am thinking of the house in terms of ‘my home’ when I think of it now – when I speak of it now. The outlook, the thought, the talk warms my heart: and breaks it at the same time. Sometimes I still lapse into “our” and “we” when talking with friends about home, life, and the pursuit of happiness. But I noticed that in the now, as the calendar days move forward through 2020, I am speaking a lot more in terms of “me”, “mine”, “I”. My present is a LOT more present.

I still miss seeing Bob when I walk into a room in the house.

I still miss hearing his voice; his laughter.

I still miss feeling his touch.

And I always will miss those pieces of my life in my new life.

But I also know that Elohim is my husband now.

It is HIS strength, and His love that I must draw on now.

So, when the past calls to me, and I feel my thoughts slipping into melancholy with the missingness of Bob and the happiness he gave me … I will lift up my head, look at the Spring flowers blooming (outdoors and in yarn creations), munch on prolific violas; and focus on the love, faithfulness, provision, and securities of Elohim. My husband in my new life.

R.I.P. CLIVE CUSSLER

OH MAN!

Bob turned me onto Clive's books about a decade ago ... a guy at work gave him a book to read, and it came home in Bob's lunch pail. When I opened it up the next morning, the book looked interesting; so I asked Bob if I could read it after he was finished.

I WAS HOOKED.

We read every one of his books after that one. I think the only book we haven't read yet, is the one proposed to be released later this year. We read the others over, and over, and over again. I will admit though, that I am not a fan of the later series, co-written by his son - those always seemed kinda flat and bland. But the others were full of sparks.

Maybe Clive's books appealed to me because I am a tom-boy type of gal ;-)

Sad news.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/feb/26/clive-cussler-novelist-dies-88?CMP=share_btn_fb&fbclid=IwAR1uT6ub2MNJk67jJqpbPj1RZg5D5OM0FMFxwmgnqN0grwvpqP2h9R_QYiY

But, on the other hand, 88 is a pretty good run on life. If Clive lived any of the adventures his books portray ... he was darned lucky to live that long. Just sayin'.

R.I.P. Clive: you are missed.

I WILL CONTINUE TO WRITE

THIS.

This article I can SO IDENTIFY WITH, posted on a FB Page, is why I will never be silent.

(https://medium.com/@davidvienna/the-teacher-everyone-feared-taught-me-to-fight-back-321d7bb5937e)

People can chastise me. People can scream at me. People can tell me, "YOU do NOT get to talk!". People can avoid me. People can abandon me.

But people cannot silence me.

I.W.I.L.L.C.O.N.T.I.N.U.E.T.O.W.R.I.T.E.

A diary kept me sane in a childhood home that was crazy.

I never "feared a teacher" - I never feared anyone: if anything, people feared me ... and I made sure they were kept on their toes. LOL. I could't afford not to be tough growing up.

High School teachers, Mrs. Borg & Mrs. Irving, both encouraged me to continue with my witty and sarcastic literary assignments - most of my handed in assignments focused on the Vietnam War at the time (my choice of writing, not the teachers'); I Aced the classes. Because they allowed me to be my lovable witty and sarcastic self (and I think they knew my home situation ... small town, and all), their classes were the only classes I actually attended. They knew my writing was keeping me grounded. But, Mrs. Irving KNEW me - she saw into my soul. When I married before my Senior year started, and immediately got pregnant my 'honeymoon week', she told me, "Val, don't drop out of school. I'm starting a Night Course Class in my class twice a week: come! I'm signing you up. Come." I went. When she saw Bob walking me to class, she was glad to see I chose well in love. She and Bob knew each other - small town. I did well in her course, and graduated with a bona fide Graduation Diploma. It was mailed to me; I was heavily pregnant by then and didn't want to chance going into labor crossing the stage to receive it. But, every time I look at that diploma, I think of the teacher that KNEW me, and liked me enough to help me succeed.

Bob & Mrs. Irving grew me up.

A journal kept me focused when I was a young wife and mother.

Blogging helped me share my life for 16 years (grandparenting/parenting, home education, gardening, raising/butchering chickens, several homes renovations, life with a wolf - a real 4-legged wolf, not just my Bob. LOL, road trips, 2nd time around grandparenting) - Blogging helped me hold it together when my world was shaken in 2018, and totally torpedoed in 2019.

I write because life continues to give me assignments I'd rather not have to endure.

I write because it is liberating.

LIVING WITH GHOSTS

This morning I went to my Castle Rock exercise class again; on my way over the cross road from here to there, I came upon a wreck site up Delameter Road – the Castle Rock side of the Mink/Chicken farm. The mink had been gone for a while when Bob and I started dating, but Bob remembered them: so, they hadn’t been replaced by the chickens that long ago, when we were driving this back road in 1974, and Bob was telling me about the mink. I don’t think there are any chickens there anymore, either, because the place looks pretty deserted.

When I made Castle Rock, and turned onto the bridge that takes me into town, I was shouting ‘hallelujah! The bridge still shakes the liver up with it’s wash-board surface, but at least the land-mine-holes have been attended to.

After exercise, I checked the mail on the way home; and touched down briefly before running into our town to pay Xfinity (and had them remove the bill notification from my email account – I don’t need that reminder; I don’t want that popping up), P.U.D. (just because I was downtown and it needed to be paid anyway), and AT&T (and had to deal with half an hour of confusing and infuriating double-talk). It may be a sin to hate, but I really do HATE AT&T. Thank Elohim, forgiveness in unlimited … because when I have to deal with AT&T, I need to ask forgiveness over and over, and over again.

Bills paid, I decided to stop in at Country Village Health Store, and buy some more Oregano Oil – and pick up some Stress Shield vitamins (I hope they work); Country Village is just up the street a pace, and around the corner from AT&T. The Stress-Shield is needed to keep dealing with the continual AT&T double-talk bullshit.

When I arrived at Country Village, it looked like everyone for miles around decided today was the day they needed to pick something up too. 

I snapped up a parking spot as soon as it was vacated – and some crazy bitch old bat (okay, maybe my age – but for sure bat-shit crazy) played the ‘dare-me’ chicken game with her car as I was leaving the parking lot later on. She could have just drove into the spot she wanted … I was leaving and not interested in the spot she had her eye on … but she decided to play games with her car, and her ego-trip mindset, instead: if I moved forward; she aggressively moved forward, and nudged her car at more of an angle to the spot she coveted; if I stopped – she stopped. It was stupid. I had to count to 10: SEVERAL TIMES. When she finally stopped showing her ass, and actually drove into the spot – all I could do was wonder how many joints she had smoked already, and shake my head and think, ‘Yeah: it’s great to live in a stoner state.’

People like her are WHY I DON’T DRIVE IN PORTLAND OR SEATTLE.

At this point, with AT&T’s nonsense still echoing … and the crazy-lady car game – my head was throbbing; and my stomach was growling. It was about 12:30’noon, and I hadn’t eaten anything yet – I left the house early, and I am not a breakfast person; can’t eat anything before noon. Stress-induced acid bubbling on an empty stomach needs quick relief. So, I nipped into the Masthead parking lot: it was reflex. It was the closest restaurant.

For a few minutes I just sat with the engine still running, looking at the building, and debating with myself if I was ready to do this.

The last time I ate at the Masthead was with Bob in either April or May of 2018. There are a lot of memories associated with the restaurant. I sat. I thought, ‘Can I do this?’ There was only one way to find out: I got out of the car.

Cheese Burger with avocado, and Sweet Potato Fries.

I know it sounds silly to people that I have avoided places Bob and I used to hang out frequently together, but all these places knew Bob & I as the ‘bobbsey twins’ – we went e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.t.o.g.e.t.h.e.r. Except for work. These local people knew us. Our whole life together; dating months and married years. To go into these places now, and hear them ask me, “Are you alone”? And look around me to see if Bob will be following … hurts my heart; and I feel strange, saying, “I am.” Then, of course, they ask, “How’s Bob?” And I have to tell them that "he is no longer with me – he’s in Heaven now.”

It’s hard.

It’s hard to get back into the main-stream as a single woman, when for 3/4^th’s of my life I’ve been part of a couple. A well-known couple. I know how to be a couple; I forgot how to be a solitary solo lobo. It will take time to be comfortable in that role.

I did pretty good in there: I didn’t choke on my ‘burger, and I didn’t soak my fries with salty tears.

I am healing – reconciling my past with my present.

Lunch tab paid, and back in the car, I ended up looking directly at Bruno’s Pizza place through the windshield … and averting my eyes, I ended up staring at the car lot across the thoroughfare: a good memory happened there; I was still a bride, and Stacey was about 7 months old – she was bundled up in her stroller against the Christmas chill that year.

Bob & I met Bruno on our 2nd date, in April of 1974. Bob loved pizza. Pizza and hot dogs: he could've lived his whole life on those things! Anyway, we met Bruno when he was drawing draft beers at Pietro's Pizza Place the other side of Longview. We started getting to know each other all the way around, and eventually we became such close friends that as soon as Bruno saw us coming through the Pizza parlor door, he'd have our lagers waiting for us on the counter while we placed our pizza order. Soon we were sharing baby pictures - ours and his. When he left Pietro's to open his own pizza parlor, we naturally followed and ate at his place, 'Bruno's Pizza'. he always had time to sit and jaw with us when we were in town. We watched each other's children growing up, as he baked our pizzas and we ate them.

Bruno is retired now.

And Bob lives beyond the clouds.

Things have changed ...

Ready to leave the downtown triangle, revolving around the Triangle Mall area (Three Rivers Mall now) with its ghost memories from the past, I pushed the ignition button, buckled up, and headed the car for home.

Walking through my own door, I was really ready to kick my shoes off and relax, but there were a few things I had to do first. One, was to put my medicinal herbs and minerals away:

The second thing was to balance the checkbook.

While jotting down the AT&T payment notation, I unfolded the direct-dial number the salesgirl at the downtown Office had given me to call an AT&T rep to have the ipad removed and my account updated. So, I called the number and made my request. I found out that the ipad notebook was paid off the first of February – so I had that cut from my account; I don’t have the ipad anymore. Cutting the ipad caused my ‘new account’ to become ‘newer’ … and that is what caused the last AT&T snafu with ensuing maddening frustrations that lasted 11 fricking months!

I was not happy to be told that dropping the ipad would automatically move me “to a new Plan”. F#%@! And, of course, NO ONE KNOWS the bottom-line billing costs because of “pro-rating issues”. All I wanted was a simple deduction of a ball-park billing figure. What I got was text-book quotes from a college kid in a dorm room somewhere, where a roached joint is no doubt smoldering in a make-do ashtray. She parroted text-book double-talk about a pro-rated billing that takes place from the 24^th of February to the 14^th of March, on top of the new billing rate which is also due on the 14^th of March with accumulated taxes added to all that, NONE which she couldn’t explain IN PLAIN ENGLISH.

She ended her litany with a cherry, “I hope I’ve explained this to you satisfactorily!” I said, “No, actually, you haven’t – but that seems to be standard rhetoric with AT&T." She seemed confused. She said, “What don’t you understand, ma’am? I’ve explained it to you.” I said, “Excuse me, but you sound about 23 – I am 63: I do not understand your textbook spiel: you are dealing in book time – I deal in real time. Nothing you ‘explained’ to me sounds remotely understandable. Instead, it sounds like double-talk bullshit to me … which is what it is. What I ‘understand’ is that once again, AT&T is shafting me and expecting me to ‘understand’ what is not understandable. I hope I didn’t just get screwed over.” I was nice in tone, but I was clearly pissed off. There was a heartbeat of silence. She said, “I can try again …” I said, “It wouldn’t matter. You’d quote the same textbook litany; and I still won’t understand a word of it. Look – thank you for your time. Have a nice remainder of your day.”

So, I am still dealing with ghosts of AT&T screw-ups I am hoping and praying will not be a repeat of the past 11 months, this time around.

I am so tired of being shafted by AT&T.

I feel a headache coming on …

I am definitely going to take a stress shield vitamin tonight when I go to bed – that way the beneficial minerals stay in my body, doing their stuff. Hopefully I’ll wake up tomorrow morning full of sunshine and dancing through the day on twinkletoes ;-)