MY CALENDAR IS FULL

My days are beginning to take shape again; my calendar is filling up. Nothing spectacular or particularly noteworthy to anyone but me (and Bob, if he were still walking beside me); but my days now have focus and my life can start to be lived again with purpose.

I know what I want … what I don’t want … and I’m on my way to restructuring and rebuilding.

I had 2 early morning phone calls yesterday and “life” was the topic of both calls. My Georgia peaches friends (nothing catty in the remark, just referring to their genteel backgrounds) are concerned I don’t have enough on my docket to keep me happily occupied now that Bob is not here to keep me happily occupied. So, I assured them both that I am really doing okay: I don’t know yet exactly where my life is headed, or even how to bring all the pieces together – but, I am open to wherever 2020 takes me. My calendar is filling up; with the exceptions of Fridays & Saturdays, which I keep set aside (free from outside entanglements) to relax, refresh, and reflect: on these two days, I clean house, do laundry, and bake bread Friday early in the day – and relax Friday evening through Saturday doing nothing more than kicking back, vegging out, and enjoying a small goblet of wine in the evenings before bed ;-)

From Friday sundown until Sunday sundown, I take time to relax and unwind.

This past Friday, I spent all day doing laundry and baking breads before beginning my Sabbath Rest at sundown. With half the Challah Bread dough, I baked 8 homemade Hamburger Buns and a dozen Supper Rolls.

he other half of the Challah dough was shaped into regular shaped loaves (I forwent the fancy braiding this week).

(http://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2018/07/low-cholesterol-challah-shabbat-bread.html)

Friday evening Supper, I was too tired to whip up much – so, I threw some Sweet Potato Fries in the hot oven to bake after the bread was pulled out … and I reheated one of the Maryland Crab Cakes I fried the other day, and put it between the Tarter-sauced halves of one of the homemade hamburger buns that just came out of the oven. YUM!

(http://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/maryland-crab-cakes-recipe.html)

Sometimes on Saturdays, I drive to Castle Rock to enjoy a few games of Bingo (http://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/making-bank.html).

Sundays I also claim for myself: this is my “get out into Yeshua’s creation and enjoy it to the max”: “Sunday~Funday”. So, from Friday through Sunday (a 3 day weekend), I deliberately claim time for myself to reclaim myself and bring peace into my life to rein supreme. People can come visit me, if they chose to do that; but, with the exception of Sunday outings, I don’t leave my house – and I don’t deliberately “people”. This is a personal choice. And it is also how Bob and I lived, when he was still walking beside me, and sharing my life.

Sundays are for me to get on touch with Yeshua’s wonderful creation – I like to hit the road for scenic daytrips; recently I am on a quest to figure out the roads Bob always took me joy riding on – I miss those places (http://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/sunday-funday-6.html) … and perhaps, I will eventually discover some new places as a solo lobo that we hadn’t explored together.

And again, the question of no man in my life was broached.

And, a.g.a.i.n. … I made it clear there will be no “new man” in my life. Not in a romantic sense, anyway.

Though I do miss the male factor in my life (not sex or even love, though: just the maleness factor. As in pure male friendship …); I don’t need a boyfriend WB (with “benefits”), and I don’t want another husband – though I would never argue with Elohim IF that is His Plan for my new life. Bob is the only male I ever wanted more from the male species from: and Bob surrendered all his maleness to me … and brought out the female in me. What Bob gave to me, in regards to companionship, love, sex, and marriage, is enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life in those areas of life – Bob never did anything in half measures, so all those things we shared together was excellent and irreplaceable – these are not things I feel I need to experience with a new man in my life. There were fellas in my life before Bob – I did not come to Bob lily-white; I do not feel marrying young gypped me of a full life … but marrying young gave me a fulfilled life: I married the man of my dreams. Literally. Bob is my “it” man. To my way of thinking, and feeling STILL: there isn’t a man alive that can top Bob’s place in my life.

But what I do miss about the lack of maleness in my life now: is how a man thinks, how he speaks, how he moves, how he slams truck gears while driving passive-aggressively, how he holds a hamburger before taking a big bite … these things may seem stupid, but that is how I feel; these are things decidedly male, that I miss, now that there is no maleness in my new life. I don’t need a boyfriend, and I’m not shopping for a husband. But a male friend who isn’t looking for a girlfriend WB (with “benefits”); and isn’t shopping for a wife, would be sufficient for friendship and welcomed platonic companionship.

Wednesdays are booked with Keenagers gatherings; again, something Bob and I did together … and something I prefer to continue with. I have gained new friends there to help me enjoy my new life, and I have decided to keep this old appointment in my new life. I enjoy the time spent, and I know I, too, am enjoyed while I am there – my spirit is lifted and refreshed during that time of communal companionship, and heartening friendship. It is time well spent :-D (http://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/12/keenagers-christmas-kickoff.html).

Thursdays are my “Georigia-peach days”. LOL  This is the day of the week that works best for me to spend quality friendship time with old friends who have remained in my altered life, circled the wagons around me, and helped me learn to live again after the loss of Bob’s physical presence in my life; their sheltering and ministering attentions are invaluable measures of a deep friendship that has morphed into a solid sisterhood of blessing. They knew Bob. They knew US as a united team. They knew our love was true and deep – they know the story and have been privy to our marital life together. They know our children – their children’s lives have been intertwined with the life of our children. They knew how devastated I was when I was bumped from Wife to Widow 375 days ago. They know how I have been treated since becoming a widow. Their loving concern, care, and ministrations literally saved my life during the darkest hours of my life following Bob’s physical death (doesn’t matter how prepared one is for the Grim Reaper’s arrival, we are never truly ‘ready’ – it is always a shocking encounter), the loss of family connections (which really wasn’t that strong while Bob was still here, but a loss just the same; and a sudden final break, as soon as Bob’s breathed out his last breath), and the abandonment of our children (again, never strong connections – but cruelly finalized following their father’s physical death). Thursday is a day of the week that is set in stone. When we get together, it literally is a day spent together (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/12/tent-city-trump-trivia-torrential.html & https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/03/grateful-for-old-friends.html).

So, Mondays and Tuesdays are the only 2 days of the calendar that have not been penciled in yet … and that’s okay. It leaves flexibility for grocery shopping, clothes shopping, house cleaning (dusting, toilet/shower cleaning, ect.) outside house appointments that invariably come up now and then: these are the days of the week that I will stick to when I have to do in-depth house cleaning, and make downtown appointments that cannot be avoided.

The colorful, scribbled notations, boldly sprawling across each week – every month, on my yearly calendar may not intrigue anyone else glancing at it; and it may even appear boring to anyone looking at the sprawling scribbles dictating each day’s activities, each month, all year … but, those sprawling scribbles represent personal growth to me as I move slowly forward into a life I never wanted – with deliberate intent, and a determined purpose. Those sprawling scribbles are deliberate notations of a deliberate restructuring of a life I never wanted, but must begin actively rebuilding. Those sprawling scribbles are triumphant motivations to engage in life again. Those sprawling scribbles are colorful focuses of small tentative steps I am making in forging a direction in a life I never wanted, but am victoriously living.

There are 345 days of 2020 left to experience, before a new year begins anew for me – where it goes, is where it will carry me: next year could be more of the same … or new plans could be drafted and enacted as the restructuring and rebuilding continues. But, as of last night, when I scribbled sprawling notations across my calendar pages; for all intents and purposes, my 2020 calendar “is full”; and nothing is off the table in regards to how each day of notification unfolds – plans and goals are open-ended developments: I have made plans I intend to keep, BUT, I am also allowing Elohim a free hand in where He wants my life to go. As with every restructure, an open-ended building plan is a safety net to steadying factor so necessary to harmonious balance.

Scarily exciting.

Boldly energizing.

The new me developing to fit this new life is totally different from the old me.

And strangely, I’m okay with that ;-)

This morning, listening to the Trump Legal Team speak reality into the Senate Hearing (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/trumps-team-lays-good-factual-foundation.html), this Day 6 of the demoncrat sham, I designed and worked up a new knit kitchen towel – I surfed the internet last night to find an openwork heart pattern I could incorporate into my towel hen design, and found one of Pinterest:

 

MOD Knit Valentine Kitchen Towel Set

I also saw in a FB noticifcation - when I checked my Page, that the hillside along Ocean Beach Highway this side of Graysriver, has had a huge landslide come down and block the highway – and WSDOT is telling us that they cannot tell us when the road will be reopened to traffic. They are telling us to take the Puget Island Ferry to the Oregon State side of the Columbia River, and cross the Astoria-Megler Bridge to get back to Washington State … to backtrack to Graysriver. A LOT OF extra mileage – and hell to pay on the bridge this time of year. Actually, any tome of the year, is treacherous on that stinking bridge. White caps splash over the lower edges, making it very icy and dicey during the Winter months – and funneling high wind gusts blowing of the Pacific Ocean slam into vehicles and move them around like match box cars on that bridge: any time of the year, but more so during the Winter months.

Bob had, several times, come home after driving long haul across that thing and told me of times the winds caught the semi, blew it sideways ... and literally blew him down the length of the bridge sideways: scary to hear, scarier to experience. Bob was an excellent driver, but still!

I hate that bridge.

Well …

C.R.A.P.

I was hoping to get to Eden valley come Spring; that’s not gonna happen now because this mess won’t be cleared up – or the road ready for traffic for months.

Slide this side of Graysriver.

Slide viewed from the Graysriver side.

Astoria-Megler Bridge: Astoria, OR side – longest bridge in the Pacific Northwest.

Astoria-Megler Bridge – picture I took in June, 2016. Of course, as usual, we got stuck at the highest point because they were doing bridge work ... a.g.a.i.n: the bridge work is constant and on-going. I don't think the painting, or the truss repair; it never stops.

The height bothers me ... but down there, on the lower ends is where the real danger lies because that is where the waves wash over the road, and the ocean high winds really assault & knock cars around.

I can't stress enough, now much I really hate this bridge. Bob, at age 16, was one of the first drivers from the Washington side to drive across it. He was working the Charter Boats in Ilwaco, and was hauling fish leavings (guts, ect.) to a place in Warrenton, Oregon.

But despite this landslide setback, I am hoping to get to Eden Valley sometime in 2020.

And thinking of the landslide and my curtailed Spring plans, got my mind ruminating on this time last year.

Today, Last year, I was dealing with the fallout from my husband’s killers – (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/01/dealing-with-shysters.html) who, by the way, are still on the Park premises today. But, praise Elohim, Ron Cook is no longer my next door neighbor and I do not have to have anything at all to do with him anymore. Thank You, Yeshua! And, after my last showdown with Candy Scott on May 28^th, 2018 … she realized that when she tries to bully me, I become a force to be reckoned with: she has learned to hide her teeth and not dare to bare them in my direction – I can go from quiet church mouse to Texas tornado in a heartbeat; and when the bullshit flies and the accusing lies start; I leave no stone unturned in clearing my name and backing her into a corner. Bob is no longer here to deal with her; and I have to be my own defense: I am not as merciful as Bob was. I can overlook a lot … but when people lie directly to my face ABOUT ME, that’s when I do what needs to be done to set the record straight and stop the bullshit in its tracks. Since I set Candy back on her heels and slapped a muzzle on her loose jaws with realities; she’s been staying out of my face, and giving me a wide berth. Thank You, Elohim.

It's 8:43 PM here; so I'm going to slip into some comfy p.j.'s & curl up with my latest read: have a small goblet of white wine, and relax ;-)

 

I'll finish this book, because I'm half way into it, and the basic plot is catchy - but, I don't think I'll bring home another by this author: all she has done the entire way through the book when she isn't following clues to the mystery, is bash God: I don't like that. She really has no real knowledge of what she is bashing - it's just a general arrogant and ignorant hatred for something she thinks she needs to hate. The attitude is annoying and insulting. MPO

TRUMP'S TEAM LAYS A GOOD F.A.C.T.U.A.L. FOUNDATION

Cipollone laid a good foundational rebuttal to the demoncrat nonsense:

Jay Sekulow, was as always, awesome in his presentation ...

And Philbin did a good job too of getting F.A.C.T.S. out there for the senate to chew on this weekend:

The demoncrats are going up in flames ... kinda reminds me of the wickerman scenario: and the strange part is - THEY CAGED THEMSELVES AND LIT THE MATCH.

Can't wait for Monday :-D

DISTURBING DREAM

I had the strangest dream this morning; I had woke up around 4:35 AM, but because I would be with friends around noon, I forced myself to try to get some more zzzz’s in before actually getting up and getting on with the day.

Between 4:35 AM and 6:35 AM, I did actually manage to catch some shut-eye. But a disturbing dream is what woke me up at 6:35.

I remember jerking awake and thinking, “What the heck?!”

And then, immediately reviewing the events to see if there was a message in there somewhere.

Bob was in my dream. We were in a truck – I didn’t recognize the truck; it wasn’t one we had ever owned: but in my dream, it was definitely ours. And the truck bed was loaded with our things. I don’t know where we were headed, but wherever it was … we never got there.

Instead, in my dream, we got sidetracked by some someone who needed help: so Bob parked off the side of a driveway up the road a bit; and walked back to help that person. He acted like he knew him: but that was just Bob’s character – he never met anyone he didn’t immediately befriend. I watched him walk down the road and stand there talking to the other fella. Then, my attention was riveted to my immediate surroundings: a man was on the porch of a house raised off the ground about 6 feet. He was talking to someone out of sight; he didn’t look happy. Pretty soon, a frustrated woman wearing a white tee and jeans met him on the porch and they went into the house together.

When the house door closed, our truck jumped gears somehow, and started rolling backwards – not fast, just moving backwards. I was on the passenger side, and though it was a bench seat … I couldn’t slide over to the driver’s side because there was a pile of stuff heaped in the center of the seat. I glanced out the back window, and tried to get Bob’s attention, thinking, “Bob! Turn around and see what is happening!” At that point, the truck had totally left one side of the road, and slid sideways on the loose gravel; and the tires caught the raised gravel lip. But because there really was no actual shoulder on that edge of the road, the truck left the road and started rolling speedily backwards down an incline: the incline was not steep, but it was angled enough that the truck was moving at a pretty good clip backwards. As it was moving, I lost all sight of Bob, the road, and civilization. The truck, careening backwards and picking up speed, was snapping off tree limbs as it moved further and further away from where it had been parked. I shouted, “Bob! Bob!” – but that was only to comfort myself, because there was no real way that Bob would have heard me … the truck had traveled too far away. I remember thinking, “The truck is going to look like it has gone through a war zone” as I watched the limbs being struck off with the backward propellation. And I started thinking about how to protect myself from serious injury when the truck finally slammed up against something that would halt it. I was hoping I would be able to exit the truck at some point. Knowing Bob would, at some point, notice the truck was missing – I knew he’d start looking for it – and hoped there would be enough evidence at the point where the truck left the roadway; that finding me would happen sooner rather than later. That cheered me up a little and I thought, “I’ll honk the horn to call him to me.”

And then I woke up.

But it did unnerve me a little.

I'M GLAD WE DANCED ANYWAY

Would not have missed the dance for anything.

I married Bob knowing a doctor had told him he may end up in a wheelchair due to a birth defect ... he never did; and we were thankful.

We never had that wheelchair in our lives, but we did have the Grim Reaper dogging us every step of our journey together.

Before our 7^th Anniversary, Bob had already died twice; we lived another 37 years dodging the Grim Reaper. When Bob was served his Heavenly Ticket in December of 2018, he was ready to go Home; and because Elohim had been faithful and compassion to favor me with those extra 37 years following his 1981 death, it wasn’t so hard for me to let him go: Bob and I had in-depth talks about the life we had together, and the Life he was about to enter into/we prayed/I cried/we prayed/I played Southern Gospel music, because that was what Bob liked – and I wanted him ushered into Heaven with singing about the glories of Heaven. The fleshly vessel our spirits are housed in must die to release our spirit. Death does not frighten us.

Death is part of life: can't have one without the other.

That said, I am glad Bob & I danced well together through the life Elohim favored us with.

I love you, Babe.

I would not have missed the dance for anything :-D

MOD KNIT FLORAL KITCHEN TOWEL

Last night, while listening to the blowhard demoncrats say the baseless crap  o.v.e.r.a.n.d.o.v.e.r.a.n.d.o.v.e.r. again … I hauled out my scrap paper, colored felt pens, cotton yarn, knitting needles and crochet hook; and spent the time productively designing and crafting a new Spring kitchen towel - my other ones are getting pretty thin - even cotton yarn starts breaking down over the years.

I had saved a pattern detail I liked (found on Pinterest), so I made a handmade grid using that design to fit MOD towel pattern:

Once the grid fit the gauge, I started knitting. It made listening to the painful and annoying demoncrat twaddle a bit easier to stomach …

MOD Knit Floral Kitchen Towel hemline.

By the time C-Span wrapped up the torturous ordeal, my towel was completed :-D

MOD Knit Floral Kitchen Towel finished - I think it turned out pretty good :-D

This morning, I was getting ready to make crab cakes for freezer meals, when a friend called and insisted that I needed to get out of the house … and join her for lunch downtown at the County Folks Deli on Commerce. She knows I am not “peopling” at the moment, but she said, “Val, you still have to eat: join me.” So, I got dressed, and drove into town – I am eating at home (full course meals, not just snacks), but it did sound inviting to enjoy her company sans judgement. She knows me: she knows my background. There was good convo, good food, no judgement.

I also went for another reason, which I related to her when we were enroute – this is the first time I have been back to the Country Folks Deli since becoming a widow. Bob and I had eaten here at least once a month since they opened for business back in the 1980’s: there are A LOT OF MEMORIES connected to that place. I needed to KNOW that I could walk into that restaurant without breaking down.

I laughed when I sat in our booth and saw this notification above the menus :-D I got a Reuben, a Root Beer; they didn't have Coke, and a slice of Cheesecake (Bob always got a root beer) - and she got a Salad and a Diet Pepsi.

This sign made me smile, because we were 2 old country hens enjoying a peaceful lunch; surrounded by an atmosphere that caters to country pleasures.

Back home, I finished making and frying the crab cakes (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/maryland-crab-cakes-recipe.html). And, after I post this post to Blog, I am going to finish a matching blue dishrag for MOD Floral Kitchen Towel ;-)

MARYLAND CRAB CAKES Recipe

These crab cakes are delish.

They are simple and quick to make.

This recipe comes from my ‘Weight Watcher’s Favorite Homestyle Recipes’ cookbook.

Because my body does not process some foods safely, I have to be very careful what I eat … and because I enjoy a wide variety of foods – including those on the medical “no-no list”; I have to find ways to incorporated the foods I like into my strict eating regimen. I like nuts and cornmeal; so, these things have to be ground as finely as possible, to cause as little/no harm to my body as possible.

Today, I ground cornmeal into a powder:

Cornmeal ready to be ground.

MARYLAND CRAB CAKES Recipe ~ Makes 4 servings

14 ounces cooked Crabmeat (I use imitation crab meat) * 12 Saltine Crackers, crushed * 1 large Egg, beaten * 1/4 cup. Chopped Onion * 2 Tablespoons + 2 teaspoons reduced-calorie Mayonnaise * 2 Tablespoons fresh Lemon juice * 1 Tablespoon dried Parsley * 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce * 1/2 teaspoon hot Pepper Sauce, or to taste * 1/4 cup Cornmeal

In large bowl, combine all ingredients except cornmeal until thoroughly blended, Shape mixture into 4 patties.

Place cornmeal on medium plate; coat both sides of patties with cornmeal …

I breaded my cakes on a wax-papered cookie sheet: laid a layer of cornmeal down - topped with patties; sprinkled cornmeal on the patties.

Spray large non-stick skillet with non-stick cooking spray. Heat skillet over medium-high heat 1 minute; place cakes in skillet and cook until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Turn over and cook until other side is golden – about 3 minutes longer:

I used imitation crab meat - tripled the recipe & made 12 patties; freezing them in portions for future meals. Cooked imitation crab meat is safe to refreeze, cooked.

Each serving: 130 calories, 5 g Protein, 5 g Fat, 15 g Carbohydrate, 18 mg Calcium, 214 mg Sodium, 64 mg Cholesterol, 1 g Dietary Fiber

2 CORINTHIANS ~ Chapter 4

2 CORINTHIANS ~ Chapter 4

“Through His mercy, we have taken up this service; therefore, we are not faint-hearted. We have put a ban on secret and disgraceful methods. We refuse to practice deceit and to falsify the Word of God. But, by an open statement of the truth, we would commend ourselves before Elohim to the conscience of every man. And if there is a veil also over our Gospel, it is there only to those that are lost. They are the unbelievers whose minds the god of this world has blinded. They are kept from seeing the radiant light of the Gospel of the glory of mashiach, Who is Elohim’s own likeness.

Surely, what we preach is not ourselves, but Yeshua Ha’Mashiach as Adonai ; and about ourselves we simply say that we are your servants for Yeshua’s sake. For Elohim, Who once said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, has shone in our hearts to give us light and to give us knowledge of Elohei’s glory, as seen int eh face of Yeshua Ha’Mashiach.

We keep this treasure in bodies of clay, to show that the surpassing power is from Elohim and is not in us. And so, though we are at times perplexed, we are never crushed; and though we are persecuted, we are not forsaken; ad though struck down, we are not destroyed. In our bodies we always carry with us the death of Adonai Yeshua, so that the life of Yeshua may also be set forth in our lives. That is, if while still living we are always suffering death on account of Yeshua, it is in order that the living power of Yeshua may also work in our mortal frame. So, while death is at work in us, life is also working in you.

We have the same kind of faith as the one who wrote, “I believed, therefore, I spoke”, and so we speak as we believe. We know that He also raised Adonai Yeshua from the dead will also raise us with Yeshua, and will give us, together with you, a place in His glory. We are doing all these things for your sake, so that, as grace reaches out to more and more, the thanksgiving that will go up in praise to Elohim will also increase.

No, we do not lose heart. On the contrary, even when our outer nature is wearing out, our inner nature is, notwithstanding, being renewed from day to day. We have trials, but they are light and for the moment only, and they work out for us a blessedness that is beyond all comparison, and everlasting. Oh, if we could turn our thoughts to things unseen, rather than to things visible! For the things we see are transitory, but things unseen are eternal.

**2 CORINTHIANS 3: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/2-corinthians-chapter-3.html