TAKING HEAT

2 things had me taking heat again today: the push for mandatory vaccines, and a funeral for a cop.

The vaccines issue is a long-standing issue with me; the slap-in-the-face funeral is a recent peeve.

I like the TV sitcom, ‘The Twilight Zone’, but I do not want to live in TV Land!

The thing with people like bill gates and his ilk, is that they are bored with real life and actually begin to live in their fantasy land, where they become dictators, demanding worship for their poisonous bullshit.

Think jim jones … same concept here with bill gates.

There is already a requirement in place for vaccination for people traveling out of country – this is not a new concept, and bill gates certainly did not think of it first.

This computer nerd doesn’t have a medical degree, and he isn’t a practicing MD – but, all of a sudden, he’s on every media source that will give him 5 bullshit minutes, and he’s hailed as “an authority” on global health. WHO elected bill gates ‘king savior of the world’? He owns a few medical labs – so what? We all know healthcare is about making $$$$$$. Healthcare is not about actual health. People being “treated” are nothing more than medical guinea pigs.

I chose not to be a guinea pig. And Bob was furious to be turned into one against his will.

I don’t vaccine. I stopped giving my children vaccines in 1978 – waaaaay before it became a yuppie trend to snub vaccines. I had been faithfully making sure my daughter got her booster shots and vaccines from birth to 3 years of age. I stopped in her 3^rd year because it was apparent to me that everytime she got her updates, she would end up in the hospital for a week or more – e.v.e.r.y.6.m.o.n.t.h.s: the last time, we barely made ER in time to save her life. Doctors said they were having a hard time treating her because everytime they thought they got a handle on the problem, the situation morphed into something else. That immediately made me think of the vaccines. I kept asking doctors, “Could it be the vaccines?” They kept stonewalling. THEY KNEW it was the vaccines. I looked at my husband looking at our daughter laying there in her hospital bed – tied to the bed because she was having seizures due to the 106 temperature, and I said, “If she comes out of this, she will never get another vaccine as long as I breathe. NO MORE.” An she never did.

bill gates hails from a family with eugenics beliefs: meaning elites (the privileged few) get to choose who lives and who dies. People, like bill gates, that want population reduction … should start with reducing themselves. MPO. The elite actually come to believe they are gods because they are fawned on and catered to by talking heads and taken into political confidences. THAT ALONE should disqualify them as nothing more than hot air and puff-n-stuff. bill gates has no official position anywhere; who does he think he is to be advising the entire world? I will be more than happy to show bill gates where he can put his vaccine certificate. The bill and melissa gates foundation was kicked out of India a few years back – during the obama era (obama also pushed the eugenics/vaccine agenda): https://steemit.com/life/@pranavsinha/bill-and-melinda-gates-foundation-kicked-out-of-india

Mandatory vaccines will never happen to me.

For any reason.

Plus, aborted fetal tissue is used in vaccines – another reason to refuse: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29970932/

I’ll chance my risks with natural living in a risky world; and I’m going to steal a mantra from the pro-abortionists, and say, “MY body – MY choice!” I’m not responsible for all the lives on planet Earth: I am responsible only for me. Period.

I’ll take the heat for that stance.

Then there is the hero worship of public servants …

Convoy of Vehicles Travels From Chehalis to Adna in Memory of State Trooper Justin Schaffer: http://www.chronline.com/convoy-of-vehicles-travels-from-chehalis-to-adna-in-memory-of-state-trooper-justin-schaffer/article_b6623eae-779b-11ea-85e8-2b041a495ae0.html?fbclid=IwAR2W-0mXwfJPJTPVLf46z0QZYIYxPFNTl4OFa2IOhebJzOooDUQQ7kOcUqo

I find this very offensive.

We are told to stay home: NO GATHERINGS AT ALL with our “brothers and sisters” – no gathering for bedside vigils, no gathering for funerals.

This procession and send off is bogus.

And people should be outraged.

I know I am.

August 29^th, 2018 came to mind – I went and retrieved my handwritten notes of that afternoon. My hand was actually shaking unfolding that paper and rereading what I had noted of that convo – when candy scott showed up on our front porch screaming and waving highlighted papers at us, we listened until I saw Bob getting agitated … then I told her to leave because she was upsetting my husband and he can’t be stressed like that. She refused; I said I’d get a lawyer and sue her fat ass. She finally left – I called the Sherriff’s Office to get a restraining order, and was told by the deputy that the confrontation didn’t warrant his intervention and I should be ashamed for bringing my husband’s health into the mix … I hung up on him as he continued to try to shame me for asking for legal help to save my husband’s life. That was the afternoon of August 29^th, 2018. Noon, the following day: August 30^th, Bob was in the local ER being told he was dying from stress-induced pancreatitis. He never came home to live his life out again. Bob’s physical body died December 14^th, 2018 in another state, in another hospital.

And why weren’t we given help from the police when I called asking for it? Because LEGALLY that deputy could – and DID – sit on his donut enhanced fat ass while my husband was literally harassed to death, and the police would not respond! https://mises.org/power-market/police-have-no-duty-protect-you-federal-court-affirms-yet-again

“Neither the Constitution, nor state law, impose a general duty upon police officers or other governmental officials to protect individual persons from harm — even when they know the harm will occur,” said Darren L. Hutchinson, a professor and associate dean at the University of Florida School of Law. “Police can watch someone attack you, refuse to intervene and not violate the Constitution.” The Supreme Court has repeatedly held that the government has only a duty to protect persons who are “in custody,” he pointed out.

Memories of that August 29th, 2018 phone convo still makes me angry.

Meanwhile, candy scott and ron cook continue on with their lives refusing any responsibility at all for my husband’s death; and the local police continue to behave like demigods deserving of hero status just because they wear a badge.

“Yes! I am pissed”. I have a right to be.

And “No!” I do not think public servants (cops, nurses, doctors, ect.) should be given hero status for doing jobs they studied and signed up for. They are NOT “doing selfless jobs” – they are doing jobs. Period. And being paid a king’s ransom for doing it … we are, in essence, paying off their training and tuition costs as well as the costs for county vehicles, scanning laptops, hospital expansions … ect. And for what? To be treated badly when we show up – or ask them to actually show up? To be openly slighted, and then overbilled for a service they claim they do selflessly?

People do selfless things every day, and get no recognition at all: which is AS IT SHOULD BE when it's a "selfless act". police do a friggin J.O.B. ... and half the time, they refuse to show up unless someone is actually physically attacked, or killed. I don't consider that selfless.

Holding public servants and governing officials to a different standard than the rest of us is nonsense. Local businesses are shut down. Local people are told to hole up in their houses, sit on their hands, and put their lives on wait “for public safety” – one man even being kept inside his home under police guards because he wanted to go outside. In his own backyard! The general public is being told they cannot gather together to visit a loved one who is dying in the hospital … and they cannot gather for a funeral. People are begin arrested for simply being outside – in the middle of the river on a boogie board. BUT gathering FOR a policeman who died doing the job he signed up for and was paid for, is suddenly okay? WITH a massive number of vehicles making a parade through several counties, and 350 people in CLOSE attendance?

It’s utter bullshit.

Bullshit exempted, privilege’s given, and exemptions extended because it wasn’t a ‘regular’ joe. Bullshit funded by the regular joe’s tax dollars.

It’s a slap in the face for the general populace.

If the State is going to be in mandatory lock-down, EVERYONE needs to be in mandatory lockdown: including public servants.

Oh, we can’t logically have that?

Right.

And that is WHY quarantines do not work.

Any weakness in the chain weakens the entire chain.

I am outraged at the double standard.

All the way around … from August 29^th, 2018 to today, April 7^th, 2020.

If a funeral procession and gathering can take place for a cop, then our lives should proceed forward also as if nothing momentous … like the hysterical governor induced coronavirus shut down … is happening. There should be no threats, no arrests, and no mandatory thumb screws slapped on regular joe's and janes.

It’s only right – and just.

I live in America. I was born an America. I claim my American Citizenship Rights: no forced vaccine, and no forced hero worship to a man, or woman. Total freedom to move about freely and live my life the way I see fit in the pursuit of happiness.

NO ONE has the right to tell me otherwise.

I’ll take the heat for that stance.

“A free people ought not only be armed and disciplined, but they should have sufficient arms and ammunition to maintain a status of independence from any who might attempt to abuse them, which would include their own government.” – George Washington

FREEDOM MAKES ME DIFFERENT

I woke up very early this morning, so my common sense told me this morning would be a good time to fetch that bottled water that needs to replenished – early morning hours are the time stores have set aside for Seniors to do their shopping with as little as possible interaction with the public as a whole. I’m not worried I’ll get the virus … but any time I can shop without being hemmed in by elbows, running kids, and non-stop carts followed by throngs of people, I’m game ;-)

I even left the house without making the bed first. That rarely happens – no matter what – in our home, the bed is always made before the day gets underway (military upbringing). But, today is my ‘busy day’ when the bed is stripped and refreshed with fresh sheets anyway, so leaving it until I came back home didn’t trigger the guilt switch.

I walked out the door, locked it, and set the security system … while reading the day’s newsfeed on my phone. Instantly I was pissed when I read the news caption that inslee was sending 400 of WA State’s 500 ventilators to NY because “Washington doesn’t need them”.

(https://www.marketwatch.com/story/washington-state-sends-new-york-400-ventilators-it-no-longer-needs-2020-04-05)

WTH?? inslee has our state in a mandatory house arrest situation because he’s afraid the coronavirus will get out of control – and he has extended the ‘shelter-in-place’ mandate into May because he is “concerned THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH MEDICAL SUPPLIES FOR THE HOSPIALS”. inslee has been bitching nonstop about President Trump’s assumed lackadaisical attitude … but WHEN VENTS ARE SENT TO WA, HE GIVES THEM AWAY? And closes  schools through the school year “to reduce deaths”. inslee is playing fast and lose political games.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBIO-AhPS3A&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR3IDr6s3mynMyqmZhaygJyz3cecbQcV4K5DLbygK3DP7QiuL1qpbf51Lcw)

I have been saying for weeks that this virus hysteria is all political hype, and that we need to stand for our freedom to conduct ourselves as Americans with common sense to take care of ourselves. The freedom to do so came as a great cost of lives to claim and maintain that freedom; and have been mocked, scorned, and attacked for saying such.

The cost of freedom.

This song was written during another American episode of political overreach – the Kent State tragedy, where politically-whipped-hysteria overrode common sense. This song embodied death then, and it embodies death now … and the concept is still the same: government overreach.

Vindication for my right to conduct myself freely in my State as a free American Citizen with common sense, came in the newsfeed this morning.

But, though I felt vindicated … I also felt pissed. People are being forced by campaigning governors to sit at home, on their hands when they could be working – and want to be working. Their financial securities are dwindling, and some may not even have jobs to go back to: their mortgages and rents, car payments, school tuition's, ect. may never recoup the huge financial hits – and the economy is on a serious downward slide, all because inslee is running fast and furious in an attempt to become biden’s vp choice. He has also used this state lockdown to pass 2 {laws} into effect without informing the public or allowing a public vote. That demoncrat schmuck needs to be VOTED OUT! Asap.

Following THAT maddening news flash, was the announcement that a demoncrat in Ohio is insisting the hauge (a foreign court) prosecute President Trump for ‘Crimes Against Humanity’. The demoncrat party is STILL wasting time and taxpayer monies in a ridiculous smear campaign based on unadulterated hate.

(https://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2020/apr/6/tavia-galonski-ohio-democrat-wants-to-take-trump-t/)

This is the demoncrat operates modus. Create a panic and use the situation to push pet agendas through. I am sick of the bullshit. American needs to go back to work and Americans need to get on with their lives.

I have been getting on with my life: this virus hysteria has not stopped me in the least from doing what I normally do in my day-to-day activities. But it pisses me off that so many others have been effected, and that effect affects ALL of us. We ALL have to pay for demoncrat nonsense. Because of the political games being played by demoncrat governors, State stability has seriously been undermined, economy gains have been totally erased, financial insecurity has caused unwarranted upheaval on every level of society (not just financial), and people suffered significant losses to their retirement securities.

I’m doing okay – but people I personally know, are not.

When I got downtown and into Winco, there were a few older people milling around looking sleepy-eyed – but by and large, most shoppers were under 40. Very few were following procedure (6 feet distancing, carefully interacting with others, ect.), and even less had masks and gloves on: it wouldn’t matter anyway, given the conflicting ‘medical information’ the public has been getting – even medical {experts} can’t agree on “procedure”. So, I just do what I need to do; same as usual – washing and sanitizing my hands a little more frequently. The cashiers are standing behind fiberglass shields that have been screwed to their cashier stations, but NONE of them wear gloves or face masks. I did notice too, that the cost of items has gone up, while the items themselves have become very scarce:

These rolls are ALL there is in the TP isle; it is all that is being stocked. Full price for half the amount of the item.

It will be difficult for people to stay afloat, or even get ahead again when the hysteria dies down and life gets back to “normal” again. The simple pleasures in life will be out of reach for many more months, for many.

I bet Bob is feeling blessed to be out of this mess down here on Earth.

I don’t think anyone I know personally has suffered a coronavirus death in their immediate circle. At least I have not heard of it, and I’ve been keeping in weekly contact with everyone in my small social circle. So far as I know … to date/as I type … I am the only person to have had a loss; Bob’s illness caught us by surprise in August of 2018, and was entirely different.

This time last year, I was a new widow 113 days into my unwanted life. I had much to see-do-learn: I had to pull on past memories to recall how to solo lobo. I had no income … Social Security was holding up Bob benefits until they figured out who I was and what I deserved; they had all the necessary papers, but it’s a government savings account – there is a LOT of red tape. While they ran background checks and held up Bob’s penalized benefits check; Elohim called my friends into action, and they stepped in and stepped up: they literally kept me afloat – and kept me connected to life support. I was glad for their hands of friendship; I was glad they love me and kept me in their lives even without Bob being present. I am not good at reaching out to others. They know that about me, so they gave me my space for 2 months, then they politely intervened.

I had, throughout the years of my life solo loboed (before I married Bob, and a few years he worked away from home during our marriage) – but this month, last year, the solo lobo aspect of my life took on a whole new meaning. I was totally on my own. Bob would never be coming home again. ANY decision I made would be final; without feedback from my husband. At first making decisions for my new life on my own, with a thought process that was faulty at best and just plain nonexistent at worse, was scary. Second-guessing e.v.e.r.y.s.i.n.g.l.e.d.e.c.i.s.i.o.n. was frustratingly exhausting. I knew that whatever I signed off on, whatever I agreed to or disagreed with verbally, whatever was signed/sealed/delivered to company CEO’s and lawyers … was finalized. It was scary without Bob’s input. I did my best to remember how he would look at the situations, analyze the whole scope, and deal with the situations effectively. By and large everything went well – except for AT & T. THAT ordeal dragged on for 11 fricking months! And, I am guessing, it will always be a financial headache given the way they billing is setup. But I want to keep Bob’s phone, so I will bite my knuckles when dealing with those morons, rather than reach for the brass knuckles like I really want to do.

Things are much easier to deal with now – my brain doesn’t misfire so much anymore, and people/businesses who thought they could take advantage of me because I am a widow have learned that this widow has a bite and isn’t afraid to snap her teeth at them. My reality doesn’t seem do surreal – I’m not looking into my future through a wavy kind of desert view anymore: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRAiRVreVAQ

I am healing.

I am seeing life in color now; without the wavy distortion effects. And I’m not allowing anyone to take my kaleidoscope from me. I am finding my balance. It is strange, living in the present and juggling the past – a widow’s world has shifted on its axis, giving day-to-day momentum a surreal concept, and throwing everything into question. It is not easy to live between 2 worlds.

One of the times … and the only time right now … when my world is balanced, is when I hike, alone, on secluded trails that normally have lots of foot traffic – but not so much anymore due to the virus hysteria. I’m okay with the seclusion. I admit it feels strange to be walking river trails instead of mountain trails, but this is my life now: Bob’s preferences have become mine, mostly due to the fact that being in the mountains alone is not wise for a woman alone. River trails are more open-view, less private: for this solo lobo, that is a good thing. So, I set my feet on a path, my face exposed to the biting river winds, and listen to the ducks’ squawk, or river bird’s in flight calling to each other high above me. On one river trail locale, I can watch rabbits darting about. I put one foot in front of the other. Again, and again. I am not worrying about anything. I am not planning anything; I am not really even thinking past placing one foot in front of the other as I walk along. I only walk. And breathe. When I am outside in the elements, I feel one with the planet – I begin feel that perhaps I do still have a purpose. I find a sliver of hope that perhaps, soon, I will know that I am wholly healed.

I am a work in progress and I can’t afford to be tripped up in my journey. It is imperative that I continue with the healing process.

So, I really do not have time for political games and the ensuing hysteria everyone seems to relish. I do definitely understand that this virus is a real thing, BUT I view life differently now. Bob’s absence in my life has changed me forever: things that would concern me before, don’t seem so concerning to me now. It is startling to me to see how much of Bob’s character from our life together, in the past, is rubbing off on me in my now. While I still do voice my opinions … I don’t voice them as loudly, or as often: I go out of my way to avoid conflict now. When people shout at me now, I don’t shout back; I take a calmer approach – or I just shrug and walk away. Bob was always the calm one in our relationship; he wasn’t easily ruffled, even when people got nose to nose with him. “It’s just a view” he say, “hardly worth wrestling with them over”. He could hold his own with anyone, and I'm glad no one ever tested him; he always leaned towards kindness and talked people down, even when people really deserved a punch in the nose.

I always saw myself as a misfit, content to stand apart in my uniqueness. I felt weird and awkward around people; I am deep, complicated, often misunderstood. Aimless chatter annoys me. Pointless social chit-chat bores me. I was always an outcast in social circles. Alone.

And then Bob came into my life.

He embraced all of me and taught me that it’s okay to be me.

Because Bob loved me so thoroughly and so unconditionally, he birthed a confidence in me that propels me forward in my new life. Now that I am a widow, I pull on that love birthed confidence to search for what connects me to a small sector of society I feel comfortable navigating.

I can walk away from hysterical dramas that want to suck me into their bottomless abyss. I can be aware of what’s going on around me without getting caught in the vortex. I know the dangers of coronavirus, but … I also know that we are all born to die; and when that time comes, it cannot be avoided. No matter what. I have witnessed that reality; and it has made me different. I know what it is like to feel lost and afraid. And I also know how to rise above that fear. I know how futile it is to try to control situations; and I have learned to let go and just rest in the peace that passes all understanding. Everyone fears losing those they love: I understand that.

I used to be careful in how I put myself forward – I was shy and slow to warm up to people; afraid of rejection. Bob was the outgoing one, and I was happy to ride on his shirttails. Then, my careful world was shattered: one moment he was laughing with our grandson as they built garden boxes for me - the next he was in ER after a front porch confrontation that was stupid … and 3-1/2 months later, he was gone. There would be no more laughter. Where time was always spread out before us, time suddenly became a very short road to travel.

If I escape this virus and Elohim grants me a longer life, I will know wrinkles, achy joints, and chin whiskers. I will also have many more moments of joy, and glimpses of serene peace when achy-breaky memories threaten to undo me. Bob’s absence in my life reminds me that life is fleeting, but it must be lived while I still have it – I must remember this always. As a solo lobo I want to make every second of my life count: I don’t want to waste a minute of it.

My social calendar; which, lately due to political hysteria, has been fairly empty will soon be filled again with scheduled meetups and social events.

The cost of Bob’s freedom due to his illness and subsequent physical death makes me different in my freedom.

I love you, Babe.

Always ~ OX

CARIBBEAN BLUE

I skipped my Sunday~Funday outing this morning, and decided to stay-in house today. (1) because I have been out and about several times this week already (2) I have an allergy related headache from my walk in Kelso yesterday. There wasn’t much scotch broom in bloom, but there was enough that I am feeling the effects today.

So, around 10:30 AM, I put a pot roast in my slow cooking oval crockpot and got that underway - the carrots had me momentarily catapulted back in time, because the date on the baggie read: 8-26-18. They had been harvested and bagged for the freezer 4 days before the stable axis in my life was seriously tilted; I shook the memory from my thoughts … staying in-house, I can’t let myself be tripped up by memories that will take me down a path I don’t need to go down right now. I also took a pumpernickel roll out of the freezer to thaw:

Pot Roast w-whole yellow baby spuds, 1 large cubed yam, and 6 medium carrots.

A little later, feeling boredom niggling at me, I pulled the flamingo chair pads off the closet shelf and tied them in place …

Then I got my shoe box of art paint supplies out of the cupboard, and started work on my driftwood garden art project. The driftwood is very dry and porous, so it will need a couple coats of paint – I like the blue color, and who knows … the driftwood could have drifted to the river beach of the Columbia River from the Caribbean ;-)

First coat of Caribbean Blue acrylic paint.

Hmmm; I am sensing a theme here – flamingo chair pads, Caribbean blue driftwood art, and parrot tulips. And a memory came to mind. I had kinda teasingly/seriously mentioned to Bob one day while we were sitting around the house, that I’d consider getting on an airplane to go to Jamaica to sit on the white sands in beach chairs and drink blue-tinted pina coladas after an authentic Jamaican meal. We loved eating a variety of ethnic foods – and I hated flying. Bob liked flying, and only had 20 more flying hours to complete to get his Pilot’s Licensing during his first marriage … but his ex-wife slept with the instructor to spite Bob; so that ended that – he never did complete the course, even though I encouraged him after I found the papers while cleaning the house after we married. But he loved to fly. And I really would have considered flying to Jamaica for Supper – we were retired with time on our hands, and the airfare was reasonable. We laughed at the idea of flying to Jamaica for supper with calypso music on the breeze (we both like calypso music), and then flying back home to go to bed: and our lives went on as usual. 

When Bob was in the local ER/ICU Ward the first time fighting for his life, September 1^st, 2018; and the drugs the doctors were pumping him full of bloated him – threw him into a drug induced hallucinogenic state, and sent his body into full-on shut-down … the doctors were doing everything they could to rectify the situation, bring him around, and keep him alert. One doctor asked him, “Bob – stay with me Bob, what would you really like to be doing right now.” Without thinking about it too hard or too long, Bob looked at me and smiled and said, “Right now, I’d like to be sitting on a white beach in Jamaica drinking a pina colada with my Baby.”

Bob in local ER/ICU Ward; September 1st, 2018. He made it through the night when doctors had said he wouldn't.

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalms 73:26)

The doctor burst out laughing, and said, “Me too, man. Me too.” I smiled through tears – I thought Bob had forgot all about that convo. But I should have known that Bob never forgot anything concerning me. Bob loved me. And if there was a way to make that Caribbean fantasy a reality … he would have moved heaven and earth to do it.

Bob did not fully recover. Three and a half months later, his physical body died at OHSU, in Oregon at 8:05 AM, December 14^th, 2018.

That Jamaican fantasy will never happen. Bob is no longer here, and his physical presence was a major part of that fantasy.

In my now, while the painted driftwood on the dining room table was drying, and I sat down to drink my coffee; I happened to glance out the window and saw that the yellow Parrot Tulips I had bought last March (and repotted last Fall) were blooming on the front steps – and the clouds in the sky had rolled back to show a hint of Caribbean blue, too:

I hope there are white beaches in Heaven with beautiful Caribbean blue waters :-D

KERBY'S & A WALK IN THE PARK

I had just finished brushing my hair, and was checking the phone for updates – it’s important to be ‘updated’, so we know when our campaigning governors running for biden’s vp position, will forget the political nonsense and open our States back up again to life in the real world … as opposed to political landscaping painted broadly with the brush of covid-19. There was anderson cooper looking like a white-haired geriatric rabbit with startled blue eyes, interviewing chris cuomo saying he’s “recovering from coronavirus” … and in the next breath whining because he’s “afraid he might get pneumonia and lose another 10 days with his wife and family”.

I had to count to 10 …

Do ALL the cuomao’s sound this hysterically dramatic? Some narcissistic people have no fricking idea how stupid they sound, and how someone (like me) might want to slap them up alongside their empty talking heads. (1): he IS RECOVERING (2): he will eventually get to BE WITH his family again. (3): 1 week … 2 weeks is NOT FOREVER. chris cuomo is caught up in the grip of fear. And anderson cooper is milking it, for all it is worth.

I shut the phone off, put my hairbrush away – and walked into the the kitchen to plug the coffee pot in. It was going to be another day of walking, here in the real world.

My real world is filled with realities, no projected ‘what if’s’ everyone seems to be gorging themselves on lately.

The realities of MY world is that my husband did not recover from the illness that killed his physical body and set his spirit free 477 days/1 hour/40 minutes ago. I never got to worry about a ‘secondary superbug’ that may or may not lay him low for another 10 days. We … Bob and I … were not given a reprieve from the illness that has tilted my world that may never be righted again.

I don’t begrudge Elohim calling Bob Home. I wouldn’t request Bob returned back to me, even if I could – I know Bob is better off where he is now; enjoying life beyond the clouds.

But it pisses me off hearing people caught up in hysterical fear being coached into more hysterical fear by fear-mongering media talking heads pandering to an empty society that thrives on hysteria in order to feel alive.

I had to get out of the house. 1,600 square feet was not big enough to escape the squeezing of my heart that makes me feel trapped when it sets in. I needed fresh air blowing on my face. I needed wide open spaces.

I didn’t care what inslee thought about my course of action.

inslee is not living my life. inslee doesn’t know; and he doesn’t care that all his indefinite state-wide mandate to ‘sit and shelter at home’ means to me, is 1,600 feet of 4 walls closing in on me and holding me hostage to thoughts I’d rather not be thinking; and memories I’d rather not be revisiting during this time if global mourning. I don’t mourn. I am a widow – yes: but, I don’t engage in mourning.

I can’t allow myself to be pulled into a global meltdown.

I am walking a thin tightrope, as it is, in my own life; juggling my own stuff.

I didn’t mourn Bob’s passage from this life to the next. I did grieve, eventually: and I am still grieving to a certain degree … but I do not engage in mourning.

I engage in life.

I engage in living.

I only have 1 life to live – I fully intend to live it without anyone’s permission. HOW I live my life is for ME to decide. Whether this earthen vessel that houses my spirit lives or dies, is for Elohim to decide. I do not answer to man. I did answer to Bob, on occasion, when he was here on earth. But, Bob is no longer here ... I answer now only to Elohim, and to myself. 

I got dressed, grabbed my travel coffee mug, and pointed the nose of the Horizon towards Riverside County Park. I hadn’t been there in a while, and though it is a popular place for people to gather, I knew walking along the dike would be a fairly solitary activity: it always is, no matter how busy the grassy part of the Park is.

Driving along West Side Highway, I saw Kerby’s Fish Market was open for business. I nipped in …

Everyone behaved. We all used common sense in social distancing, employees were friendly, kind, and worthy of respect; the service was efficient, and the food was anticipated: Kerby’s always has good food. I placed my order, waited in the car for it, and drove to the Park to eat it:

Fish ‘n Chips w-Sweet Potato Fries

Coleslaw and Tarter Sauce

While I ate, 2 little boys riding their bikes, stopped at a proper distance from me and started chatting with me. They were 4 and 5 respectfully – my grandson Azariah will be 6 in June; I refused to allow tears to gather. I miss him so much. I watched them pedal off: and wondered as they disappeared from sight, if Aza gets to ride his bike. When Bob went into the hospitals full time, he never saw Azariah again – Stacey didn’t allow it. When asked by his medical attendees what he’d like to do if he got better and got sprung from the hospitals … Bob always replied, without any hesitation, that’s he’d feed the squirrels at Riverside Park; and spend time with our grandson.

Bob never fed the squirrels – or spent time with Aza, ever again.

I do not know if I will ever see our grandson again. Currently, Stacey is not allowing it.

So, the world; and inslee, will just have to find it in their hysterical hearts to forgive me for wanting to halt the hysteria wildfires from encroaching on my life. I have enough of my own concerns to keep my mind occupied.

I grabbed my walking stick from the back of the Horizon, and hoofed it to the dike where my hike began …

Walking the dike along the Cowlitz River. Kelso, WA

There are a lot of memories associated with this Park. This is only the third time I’ve been back. The first time I revisited, was weeks after my new life status was bumped from wife to widow: it started raining half way through the hike, and I finished the whole 2 miles in drenching rain. I was soaked by the time I reached the car. I realize now I was walking without thinking or feeling – I was reacting. I didn’t know then, that I had picked up a case of pneumonia and influenza from the two hospitals I had been camped out in with Bob during his final days: I wasn’t thinking clearly at all, and I wanted the comfort of a familiar place to sooth my heartbroken weary soul. I got desperately sick after that first revisit. The second revisit was in June 2019, after Keenager’s (a Senior Meet n-Greet at the Columbia Heights Baptist Church). I forced myself to do the hike … and to stop at El Ranchero, the Mexican restaurant we always ate at following our hikes. It was hard to do both – but, I managed. Now, it is easier to do both.

I have never battled the widowing angst some widow’s do – the feeling of wanting to dwell in the past v.s. living in the present. I am astute enough to realize that the past is irrevocably gone: I can’t get it back, and I can never live with Bob again; that part of my life is over. I may revisit it occasionally because Memory Lane is the only place now, where I can hear my husband’s laughter, hear his voice, and watch him interact and play with our children and grandchildren. But those are limited visits … I am living in the present as best I can, and yes: it is a real struggle. But the now is reality. The now may seem surreal, but it is all that is real in this, my new life. I am adjusting. Slowly; but adjusting, just the same.

I like hiking. I always have – hiking is therapeutic to me. I have joined a Hiking Club, so now I need to get back into hiking shape so that when the club starts hiking again, my hiking stamina is where it needs to be. Hiking county parks is how I choose to build that stamina back up:

$15 million dollar Lexington Bridge, Kelso.

I can smell the memories – love is all around me.

My pretty girl, Precious. Half Timber Wolf/half Gray Wolf. She loved to walk with us on this dike. We had to have a prong collar on her in the Park, but she ran free along the dike trail.

Now Bob & Precious walk all over Heaven while they wait for me to arrive too :-D

Rabbit Trail Loop

A memorial for some animal named 'Oreo'; possibly a rabbit. 1 rock has a rabbit figure painted on it.

Remembrance about Bob & Kerby’s

Loon - there are 2 of them, but 1 swam to hug the bank when I aimed the camera at them.

Nearly 3 miles ...  maybe. Not sure how to read this thing yet.

Drinking cold coffee and watching memories no one else can see ...

The battle I face as a widow isn’t the pulling between past and present lives, but more of a realistic trying to figure out how to carry the past I loved with me into a future I must live as a solo lobo. I miss Bob every day – every.single.day. There are days I miss him, and I do alright. Then, there are those days I miss him, and I’m a mess: it hurts so bad, that the weight of the missingness makes it hard to breathe, much less function. I want to share life’s ups and downs with him – to talk things over with him when big decisions have to be made: I want to seek his advice; I want to hear him bark out a laugh when something happens that the two of us would think is funny – I want to share moments with him. But, I also know that I am learning to love and appreciate my present … in the now … and everything that is unfolding and spreading out before me as time marches forward. I think I can be honest in stating that I have never compared the past to my present because it would be futile. Like comparing apples and oranges – there is no comparison; they are two totally different things, involving two totally different people. My now deserves just as much attention as our then. Both lives are precious in their own right; both lives serve a purpose, and I have to use what our then has shaped in me, in order to successfully make a new and meaningful life for me in my now.

It was a good day at Riverside Park – I managed to hike ALL of the dike trail (both sides of the highway) without breaking a sweat. I did get a little short winded, but it was a lengthy hike, I am 63, and scotch broom was in bloom ;-)

When I got back home, I changed from jeans into a skirt (I bet Bob’s mouth fell open in Heaven, when he saw me in a skirt; LOL), and relaxed. I don’t know when I drifted off … but, I woke up around Supper time. Apparently, my body wanted the same release from unwanted stress my mind and spirit were freed from earlier in the day ;-)

My niece, Sara, texted me in the evening to say she loved me and is thinking of me – I am sure Bob was smiling. Sara is like a daughter to us.

Today was a good day. Love is all around me :-D