My life has changed so much since December 2018. I remarried January 7th, 2023 ... we sold the house, sold our vehicles - and bought a new 4x, a puppy, & a 5th Wheel to travel the mainland States and experience life in the slow lane. As always I record e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. happening in my life: I will share lots of pics & vids of our USA travels: I hope you enjoy our Blog.
This is NOT okay (In the U.S., the government is talking toFacebook, Googleand other
tech companies about the possibility of using location and movement data from Americans’ smartphonesto combat
coronavirus)! It seriously infringes on the privacy
rights of American citizens– we do not
live in a monarchy, or a democracy, or a dictatorship: America, over any other
country on the face of this planet, is unique … in that Americans have FREEDOM TO
MOVE FREELY IN OUR COUNTRY.Being tracked by
governing forces is NOT OKAY. Who is
tracking our government officials while they track free citizens? Why are
undocumented and illegals not being as intrusively tracked? WHY are FREE/LEGAL/AMERICANS STANDING STILL FOR THIS????
Once government surveillance is set on place,
it will be impossible to erase.
Today is one of the ‘Specific Grieving Days’ I have earmarked throughout the 365 days of the years. I never want to forget Bob – or the love he lavished on me from the first connection to the last and final separation.
46 years ago, tonight, I didn’t have a clue as to how my life was about to forever be changed by 10 PM, when Bob would literally walk into my life. And stay.
46 years ago, my then boyfriend, Doug Moss, called me earlier in the evening and insisted I come to a kegger he was throwing at the house he was renting a room – from a fella he was working with. He told me the name of the fella, but I didn’t pay too close attention: the name didn’t ring any bells with me. I didn’t want to go to the kegger, but Doug was insistent. We’d been dating off and on since Middle School … and were currently “on” again. He said he had something he wanted to talk to me about: I was curious, so I reluctantly went.
When I arrived, the kegger was unfolding in full force. Everyone was underage (16 to 20; Doug and I were 17 and 18), and Doug was moving through the crowd, taking his time getting to me. The air was heavy with colognes, perfumes, sloshed beer, and the stench of weed; I wasn’t interested in getting drunk or stoned … so I set myself up as door monitor and carded everyone who looked older than 20 while I waited for Doug to make his way to me to tell the important thing he insisted I be there to hear.
Doug was moving slowly in my direction … when my direction was suddenly changed.
Around 10 PM, in through the open door walked a tall figure of a man wearing a blue plaid jacket fitted to a pair of broad shoulders owned by a man who looked – and walked through the door – as if he owned the place. My “over 20!” radar kicked in: and I stepped up to him, halting him with an upraised palm and a no-nonsense, “You gotta go. You’re too old to be here, and we don’t want trouble with the cops.”
He stopped his forward momentum.
His right eyebrow went up and a slow sexy smile was aimed at me.
I was unmoved.
“You gotta go”, I repeated – motioning to the open door.
The sexy mouth spoke, “I live here; this is my house.”
“Right”, I sarcastically said in my best badass/smartass teen voice. “Bob Hargand owns this house, and you aren’t him.”
I was unmoved. And determined this fella wasn’t going any further than where he stood.
Bob stood firm too. Still amused.
“If you are who you say you are; prove it,” I said. I held my hand out, palm up – wiggling my fingers in his direction. “Show me some ID”.
He laughed and fished his wallet out of his
back pocket, looking me over. He handed me his Driver’s License with a ‘here
you go, little snip’ gleam in his twinkling eyes.
Me. 1974
I took the license, saw the Name, and
conceded he had the right to be standing there in his own house. Regardless of
his age. I stood there looking at the license, thinking of a way to get him out
of there without causing a scene: when I noticed the face on the license.
IT WAS THE FACE!
Bob. 1967
My mouth fell open in startled surprise and I breathed out in stunned surprise, “Oh, my God. You’re HIM! The face; oh, my God.”
When I looked back up and handed him the license, my hand was shaking. And my face was red. I was embarrassed when I realized too … that I had spoken my private thoughts out loud.
Bob was looking at me while he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket. He was curious. He’d heard what I said, and asked me what I meant.
So, I told him. E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. I
spilled the beans about how I’d first seen him 7 years ago when he walked
past me after lunch in the school cafeteria – and how I waited every day by the
corner of the school to catch a glimpse of him; and how crushed I was when I
found out the next year that he’d graduated and never walked past that corner
of the school again.
Bob’s High School Pic. 1967
I was laughing by the time I finished my peek-a-boo confession. And Bob was laughing too; he was intrigued. As if we’d always known each other, we moved together towards a quiet corner in his livingroom and talked together until just before my midnight curfew hour. Door monitoring was forgotten ;-)
Doug, who had been slowly moving towards me had been waaaay to slow getting to me, and was watching everything happening between Bob and I from the sidelines – he knew that whatever we had together had ended: and I was no longer thinking of Doug – at all: my attention was captivated by The Face my heart had yearned for 7 long years.Doug and I never dated again – but we were lifelong friends until the night Doug died; and Bob came home after work 23 years ago to tell me about the accident.
That all-night chat session in Bob’s Cathlamet livingroom was not ‘a date’ – it was happenstance. Bob was still officially married though he and Gloria had been separated since November 1973: he had come home that night from visiting his 4 year old son in Portland, OR. When Bob walked me home (about 3 minutes away from his house), to make my midnight curfew, I made it clear to him that I didn’t date married men, and though I was happy to finally get to meet him face to face, I would not be a backdoor girl caught up in a messy marital situation. If the divorce he talked about ever happened, he could call me then … but I would be permanently unavailable until then.
The next time Bob talked to Gloria – who was
living with another man and dragging her feet getting a divorce because she was
Jehovah Witness (the excuse didn’t make any sense to me or Bob) – Bob
put it to her that he had the right to move on with his life too: she quit
stalling and filed for divorce on April 1st, 1974 … and Bob gave me
a jingle April 15th, asking me out Friday the 19th.
The Pelosi Pork Bill – the reason the stimulus package was held up for 2 days while nervous nancy played queenie.
The Pork list is long. There is over 1400 pages of this crap.
Here's a summary:
• $100,000,000 to NASA
• $20,000,000,000 to the USPS
• $300,000,000 to the Endowment for the Arts
• $300,000,000 for the Endowment for the HumanitieS
• $15,000,000 for Veterans Employment Training
• $435,000,000 for mental health support
• $30,000,000,000 for the Department of Education stabilization fund
• $200,000,000 to Safe Schools Emergency Response to Violence Program
• $300,000,000 to Public Broadcasting
• $500,000,000 to Museums and Libraries
• $720,000,000 to Social Security Admin / but get this only 200,000,000 is to help people; the rest is for admin costs
• $25,000,000 for Cleaning supplies for the Capitol Building / I shit you not it's on page 136
• $7,500,000 to the Smithsonian for additional salaries
• $35,000,000 to the JFK Center for performing Arts
• $25,000,000 for additional salary for House of Representatives
• $3,000,000,000 upgrade to the IT department at the VA
• $315,000,000 for State Department Diplomatic Programs
• $95,000,000 for the Agency of International Development
• $300,000,000 for International Disaster Assistance
• $300,000,000 for Migrant and Refugee Assistance pg 147
• $90,000,000 for the Peace Corp pg 148
• $13,000,000 to Howard University pg 121
• 9,000,000 Misc Senate Expenses pg 134
• $100,000,000 to Essential Air carriers pg 162 This of note because the Airlines are going to need billions in loans to keep them afloat. $100,000,000 is chump change
• $40,000,000,000 goes to the Take Responsibility to Workers and Families Act. This sounds like it's direct payments for workers. Pg 164
• $1,000,000,000 Airlines Recycle and Save Program pg 163
• $25,000,000 to the FAA for administrative costs pg 165
• $492,000,000 to National Railroad Passenger Corporation (Amtrak) pg 167
• $526,000,000 Grants to Amtrak to remain available if needed through 2021 pg 168 (what are the odds that doesn't go unused)
• Hidden on page 174 the Secretary has 7 days to allocate the funds & notify Congress
• $25,000,000,000 for Transit Infrastructure pg 169
• $3,000,000 Maritime Administration pg 172
• $5,000,000 Salaries and Expensive Office of the Inspector General pg 172
• No voter ID to get a ballot, & anonymous “ballot harvesting” pg 650
• $2,500,000 Public and Indian Housing pg 175
• $5,000,000 Community Planning and Development pg 175
• $2,500,000 Office of Housing
• $1,500,000,000 Tenant-Based Rental Assistance Office of Public and Indian Housing. $1,000,000,000 of which can be used as "additional administrative and other expenses". pg 176
• $720,000,000 to the public housing fund pg 177
• $100,000,000 for Community Block Grants for Native Americans pg 183
• $250,000,000 for Housing Block Grants for Tribes pg 182
• $130,000,000 for AIDS Housing pg 185, $20,000,000 of which goes to one time grantees whatever the hell that means pg 186
• $15,000,000,000 for the Community Development Fund pg 188; Only $10,000,000 of which is set aside for infrastructure for fighting infectious disease pg 191
• $5,000,000,000 in Homeless Assistance pg 193
• $100,000,000,000 for Rental Assistance - pg 198
• An additional $7,000,000 enforce the Fair Housing Act - 203
• Paid Family Leave for Sickness is 2 paid work weeks pg 213
• Emergency Family Leave Now applies to all employers not just companies over 500 employees pg 208
• Guarantees paid leave to employees who have an in-law who gets sick pg 209
• Opens up leave for some you are in a "committed relationships with" pg 212
Every time the country faces a crisis, real or perceived, there is a rush in Congress to pass massive bills that go far beyond responding to the matter at hand. These phonebook-sized emergency acts are too long and detailed for any legislator to read and fully comprehend.
But we the people can read it and find it's stuffed with gimmicks, giveaways, sweetheart deals and ill-advised policies with no bearing on the COVID-19 crisis itself.
Democrats are feeding Republicans a crisis response bill packed with poison pills, placing them in a no-win situation. Either they go along with this nonsense, handing the bill to Trump to sign, or face gaslighting and blame coming from Democrats and the media.
Bunch of bullshit $9.5 billion giveaway to colleges and universities. It gives $100 million to juvenile justice programs, and suspends various aspects of enforcement of immigration laws.
Hundreds of billions in Green New Deal subsidies. And this Election Safety and Security” or ‘‘ACCESS” Act. This section imposes requirements on states for early voting, voting by mail, required mailing of absentee ballots to everyone, ballot harvesting!
Those unfamiliar with Ballot Harvesting, it's how they manufacture votes in California, (i.e., having third parties deliver absentee ballots), online voter registration, same-day registration and other practices which undermine confidence in the integrity of the ballot.
It's a setup for outright voter fraud, these SOBs are out of their minds, this bill would be a radical step in the wrong direction.
It is hard to quickly to root out whatever other aspects of this bill bear no relationship to COVID-19, but to its backers that is the point.
Remember "We can’t really know what’s in it until they pass it", to paraphrase petulant Pelosi on another such memorable occasion?
We have been there done that before and got screwed that time, this bill is straight crap.
Playing political games as people watch their jobs vanish, their businesses collapse and their life savings evaporate while they sit in quarantine, this not just bad politics for Democrats, it is simply bad for everyone.
I can’t spend a lot of time
right now on this coronavirus.
Most people think this is a shameful thing to think – to feel
– to say out loud.
But … I CAN’T.
I am still trying to come to terms with being a Widow.
I was raised military; but I buck following
blindly.
My family background (before Bob) is sketchy …
death is nothing new to me: I’ve seen it ALL, and have experienced death on
every level; though no death ever affected me like the absence of Bob in my
life.
I am STILL reeling from that.
Some days I’m good … other days, like when nonstop
dramas and hysterics never let up – it’s hard to stay focused and I get stuck
on second-guessing everything. That may be joke for the rest of you – but when
there is NO ONE to help redirect and refocus your thoughts, it’s NOT ‘okay’.
It's nothing to joke about. It's frustrating to deal with, and a little scary
to be feeling.
All my life, until 15 months/12 days/9 hrs. &
29 minutes ago, I NEVER second guessed anything I thought, said, or did.
N.O.T.H.I.N.G. I was focused ‘like a laser’ Bob used to teasingly say. Things
have changed. A lot. Squirrely people (all over the place) annoy the hell out
of me – and now I have become a squirrely person. I don’t like it.
I don’t like being hemmed in.
I don’t like having thumb screws applied -
especially by Big Brother. I don’t like being at loose ends when my thought
process gets fucked with.
So, aside from posting links to my Blog – where I
post pictures and such – I’m seriously practicing social distancing: from
social mediums (FB, news outlets, gatherings. ect.).
I don’t want updates on conflicting and confusing
coronavirus “updates” – I am confused enough, trying to heal from the greatest
upset of my entire life: life without Bob is a confusion my heart & mind
are having a hard time coming to terms with. I can’t deal with everyone else’s
upsets right now.
I don’t care how that sounds.
I am still in survival mode – dodging fallout from
the past 15 months.
THAT TAKES ALL MY ENERGY AND FOCUS. Hysterical
trauma dramas set me back weeks - I am tired of finding myself back at Square
#1 when second guessing kicks in and my focus is thrown for a loop.
I don’t want the added stresses of reading on
family Pages that people I know, and love, are embracing socialism: that adds a
whole new hurt that I just don’t want to feel right now.
I am an American. I am a Christian. I don’t want
flagrant and misinformed socialist-communist-antiAmerican-babykilling-elderly,
Christian, American abandonment twaddle in my face 24/7.
I have enough heartache to deal with right now.
I can’t spend a lot of time on coronavirus and the
political hysterics everyone is caught up in.
The virus will pass: History tells us that.
History also tells us that those who willingly give
up their freedom to chase after doomed political causes do not deserve freedom.
I choose freedom.
Freedom … in ALL it’s meaning, purpose, and intent.
And I don’t care if that labels me as being
“selfish”.
{{Be Tolerant of Your Physical and Emotional
Limits: Your feelings of loss will probably leave you fatigued. Your ability to
think clearly and make decisions may be impaired. And your low energy level may
naturally slow you down. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get
daily rest. Eat balanced meals. Lighten your schedule as much as possible.
Ask yourself: Am I treating myself better or worse
than I would treat a good friend? Am I being too hard on myself? You may think
you should be more capable, more in control, and “getting over” your grief.
These are inappropriate expectations and may complicate your healing. Think of
it this way: caring for yourself doesn’t mean feeling sorry for yourself; it
means you are using your survival skills.}}
We all, Widowed and Married
and single people everywhere are concerned about the spread and the effects of the virus. However, things like this have been happening throughout the history of the world ... and life goes on.
There
are many things we can do to protect ourselves from contracting the virus. The
number one way is HAND WASHING with soap and water and not touching your
face with unwashed hands. But you can still get outside and go for a walk. Play
with your dog. Dabble at your hobby. Read a good book. Call friends. And all
the other daily activities that make you smile.
Refuse
to let every news story be a trigger.
Refuse to be a government pawn to save political careers.
And
make good choices.
I TRUST ELOHEI WITH MY LIFE.
This
virus emergency shall pass, and worrying about it does not make it go faster, staying busy
and productive does!
A few weeks ago, I made this striped dust cover for my oval crockpot lid … but I didn’t finish the trim on it until this afternoon:
MOD Wild Roses Oval Crockpot Dustcover
I wasn’t sure which flower to highlight; nothing seemed to ‘fit’.
This morning, I looked at it again.
And roses came to mind – not overblown, gaudy roses … but the small, wild, appealing roses.
I chose to use those :-D
Small crochet wild roses used for Spring flower trim ...
I chose the small, wild rose because true
love is not showy. True love is not overblown, or gaudy.
The small, wild, appealing rose is the
language of love that comes unannounced and spreads its appeal with wild
abandonment to take root in hearts and bloom prolifically.
The wild rose is strong and can weather the
elements; its delicate flower pleases the eye. Its unobtrusive aroma pleases
the senses. And its potent seed boosts the immune system.
A hybrid rose cannot speak the language of
love – it lacks the stamina of strength needed to flourish without worried
pampering. It’s gaudy flower, which at first catches the eye … eventually
offends with its strident boldness. Its heady aroma which lures with scent …
eventually assaults the senses and keeps admirers at a distance. And its
sterile seed has no purpose.
In this time, in our American History, we need the strength and the power of the small, wild, appealing rose.
The small, wild rose speaks loudly the language of love.
And America needs love – true love – like never before, right now.
America needs a National boost to its immune system in
order to withstand the daily assaults of anti-American twaddle being forced on
us from enemies of America determined to infect the weak minded and the soul
sick with the disease of socialism, communism, and terrorism – the unholy three
that are the hallmark of the demoncrat party headed by the pope’s special ambassador
of ill-will, pelosi; obamanite rabid dog, schumer; and the clueless binky bitch squad (alexandria ocasio-cortez, ilhan omar, annaya presley, and rashida talaib).
The small, wild, resilient rose is definitely needed and appreciated right now.
So that is the trim I chose :-D
MOD Wild Roses Oval Crockpot Dustcover
MOD Wild Roses Oval Crockpot Dustcover takes it’s place as the
final addition to my own designed and crafted Spring Theme kitchen appliances
Dust Covers :-D
