FIGHTING FOR ME

1) Bear with me … Blogger has changed their format: and it is a bit confusing to figure out. There will be mistakes.

2) I am going to unload some heaviness I’ve had on my heart for a loooong time – I need to do this for me. As stated in my Blog into … I post for me. If what I post can help someone else – great. But, I post primarily for me. I need to heal: unburdening is the way I heal. Some people will be offended; I can’t help that. Right now, ((((I)))) am my main concern.

Yesterday morning, I had the radio on to get updates about the air quality from the wildfire smoke that has been hanging over our heads this past week:

Radio promised overnight rain, ½” -1” thru the weekend. We need that!

It did rain last night, around Supper time :-D

President Trump signed the Patriotic Education Studies into effect this afternoon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1eqxZGcZZQ).

OLD GLORY

There is no place for race wars in America.

This should have been done a long time ago – things should never have reached the point they have in America.

Hate on steroids ...

Schools need to get back to teaching academics, and stop preaching foreign propaganda. Those schools, colleges, and universities that won’t … should have their government-supplemental-funding pulled.

4½ decades have come and gone since American History was pulled and “social studies” replaced American studies in American schools (1973 was when this happened in Cathlamet; I was in high school, and said then that social studies would lead to anarchy). colleges and universities replaced American History and sound education with communist pogroms/socialist manifestos/islamic doctrine – political chatter and twaddle designed to indoctrinate/brainwash students, and eradicate American History. For this 1 reason I pleaded with Bob to keep our children out of public schools – he balked because his grandmother had been school teacher to Eden Valley, and later the Wahkiakum County School Superintendent. But, he came around after I finally removed her from school in 1987 and insisted she be Home Educated as I wanted from the beginning:

I had the Law of our State on my side. I had the Law in my hand as I removed my child from the school. I had a top-notch Teacher in my corner: and Mr. Thomas knew I would bulldoze right through him if he dared to stand in my way.

This is the last family picture … Stacey left home in a blowout of blue smoke, shortly afterwards.

I got my own Teaching Certificate when it came time to Home Educate our granddaughter; I taught her from K-Jr. High. She was on the Dean’s List all through High School.

Bob came around; and saw that it was best. But, it was too late: Stacey was lost to us by then. She was totally society’s child … ruined by mindless rebellion; and each year, she gets sucked deeper and deeper into the aimless ‘hate culture’ muck; dragging her kids with her.

Anti-American politics had seriously revved up over the decades. calimexarabia has recently passed a law that mandates foreign history supersedes American History – and graduation diplomas will not be given until the indoctrination is completed: there is NO OPT OUT. This “law” is ILLEGAL and DIRECTLY GOES AGAINST American Constitution and Bill of Rights. newsom’s illegal pandering {law} is a disgrace, and a slap in the face to every legal American Citizen (https://edsource.org/2020/gov-newsom-signs-assembly-bill-1460-requiring-ethnic-studies-at-csu/638506).

Thank the Lord, President Trump is counteracting that nonsense with American History requirements in the schools!

Thank the Lord that President Trump is a President that understands the importance of our American History and does not duck and cower when the demonrats have piss fits and start throwing crap. President Trump boldly and firmly stands up for our great Nation: for every bite of the axe the demonrats lay to the foundation of our country … President Trump meets them head-on with determination of truth, facts, and a total grip on the reins of rationality – turning the radical tide and pulling America upright again.

Is President Trump perfect? No. 

BUT, he IS perfect for this moment in our history.

THANK GOD.

This news, yesterday, makes me very happy. It makes me happy knowing that the brakes are being applied to the demonrat out-of-control-crazy-train-violent and intolerant freak show; and that by Elohim’s faithful grace, perhaps other parents will not suffer the pain and suffering Bob and I have.

There’s no way to know for sure, but I’ve always believed that if our schools had been sticking to academics instead of 3^rd world doctrines and perverted sex courses, ALL our lives could have been a whole lot less stressful.

For all of our married life, it seems … I fought so hard to keep stress at a minimum in our life: Bob had died twice in the first 7 years of our life together. Keeping him alive was my main concern – and if that meant certain people (like his asshole brother, ralph) no longer crossed our threshold; that was fine with us. ralph lived to cause trouble and chaos: Bob couldn’t have trouble being dumped on him, and chaos would kill him. If that meant certain phone calls no longer got through; that was a good thing – we bought a phone that monitored calls … we could return them at our leisure/or not, if ‘not’ was the better choice for a peaceful life. We opted for a quiet/low-key life, and we did what we had to survive and keep Bob alive.

We didn’t feel the need to explain or apologize.

Especially to our kids, who should have stood with us; and by us. We were the parents, and we would do what was best for our family.

But the kids brought school-induced-stress into the home … and Alex brought divorce bitterness with him when he came to visit. Both kids were told by their teachers, “your parents are out of touch” – “they don’t understand you: it is your right to rebel” – “the Holocaust never happened” (Stacey even lived with a neo-nazi boyfriend to defy us) – “socialism benefits you” – “communal communism is satisfactory” – “you have the right to close your bedroom door and have sex regardless of what your parents think” – “you do not need your parent’s permission to get birth control pills from the school clinic” – “a school counselor will make an abortion appointment for you; your parents never have to know”. The list was endless in teaching our daughter how to ruin her life … and make ours miserable. Gloria just told Alex he didn’t have to listen to me because I was not his mother – and he constantly tried to pit us against each other.

It didn’t take long for the kids to view our home as a jail, and us as “abusive” jailers.

This put a tremendous amount of stress on Bob and I – and Bob couldn’t be stressed … which, of course, stressed me out: which in turn, stressed Bob out. And around and around it went until everyone was stressed to the max.

Alex graduated and fell off the face of the earth for 2 years. More stress.

Stacey, listening to her clueless friends’ preaching emancipation rhetoric, left home at 16. Her life was hard – it’s still hard: her choice.

We worried about our kids … and later, our grandkids.

Our home was stressed.

Our life was stressed.

Bob was stressed.

I remember one afternoon, about 4 years ago; we were visiting with his siblings at his sister’s house. Someone asked, “Hey, Bobby, how’s the kids?” Bob snorted, and replied, “What kids? I have two assholes – I don’t hear from either of them unless they need or want something. And they treat Val like shit when they show up.” Everyone chuckled because they were going through their own stuff with their own kids. But it wasn’t funny to Bob; Bob wasn’t chuckling. Bob was hurt; Bob’s eyes were sad, and my heart hurt for him. Even now, my eyes sting remembering how sad his eyes looked.

I don’t know how it was when Alex was born, but I do know that Bob was tickled pink when Stacey was born – and she was the apple of his eye: his ‘sweetpea’. He was hurt that she was disrespecting us; and treating us like we were nobodies. We hadn’t heard from Alex in months, and hadn’t seen his girls even longer … and we had no idea at all where Stacey had run with our 18-month grandson. We were seriously concerned for all of them.

The kids, with lives always in disarray and continually at loose ends, kept heaping stress on us until Bob took his last breath. And they both kept heaping major stresses on me after Bob stepped off this planet. Those of you who have read my Blog through the years went through all of that with me – thank you for never once being judgmental.

It’s sad.

It’s ridiculously childish.

And it’s unnecessary.

And now, we Citizens of America are in serious danger of losing our great Nation to the stressful insanity of the entitlement-minded-brats coached by demonrat school pogroms – and the resulting violent insanity that is playing out in our streets, in living color.

Unleashed and volatile aimless hated.

Violent mindless disrespect for anyone/anything.

Poisoned minds and angry outlooks on life.

Empty hearts and entitlement mentality.

And my kids and grandkids are supporting that!

Adding fresh heartache to the heartache I was already dealing with.

While I am typing this post, my neighbor just called to warn me that thieves have been roaming the Park: her teenage daughter’s bike was stolen from their carport sometime last night after they went to bed. And other residents have reported thefts from their properties too. She was filing a police report, but we know nothing will come of that – the police will take the report, then tell her, “we can make a report, but we don’t have the manpower to patrol that area.”

We live in a mobile home park on the outskirts of town – it’s a very nice Park, but it is not a gated community. And the background checks are not as stringent as they used to be before candy scott became manager. Over the past 2 years, my husband was killed by stress-overload due to candy’s egomania – theft and property damage is a frequent occurrence – and there was a murder last year … one street away from my street. A couple months ago, City Council was actually considering transporting the homeless tent camp that set up on City Hall grass, to the Willow Grove area – about 100 paces from the Park. Once the vagrants got wind of that, they slowly started trickling this way. And even though, that plan was scrapped … there has been a noticeable increase in strangers strolling through the Park, craning their necks to see what they can see in carports; and aimless bike riding around and around the Park streets.

The police will do nothing: the governors ordered the emptying of the jails under the false flag of covid hysteria … and ordered the police to stand down on criminal activity.

It’s craziness.

It is what it is: this mess is my new life.

But, my life doesn’t have to stay a mess.

Anti-Interference Noise Shield

I am glad we have a President who fights for America and the legal American Citizens, because frankly – I am tired of fighting alone for a peaceful corner of the world I inhabit.

All my childhood/teen years, I fought to make sure my siblings were safe in an unsafe home environment: I don’t hear from any of them.

All my married life, I fought to keep my husband alive, and our kids/grandkids safe, sheltered, cared for and loved; Bob eventually died a stress-related death anyway … and the kids have tweaked ‘the story’ to fit their own delusional angsts; poisoning their kids’ thoughts, and permanently severing ties.

All my widowed life – all 21 months of it – I realize that it is time, now, that I fight to save me.

There is no one else standing beside me.

Just me.

I am fighting for me.

Today I have unburdened a few more threads of the 44 year old tapestry of our life that I have not shared with another living soul … except Bob, when he was still walking Earth as a flesh and blood man.

My heart is lighter.

My eyes are brighter.

My shoulders are lighter.

My steps are bouncier. 

My thoughts are getting lighter.

I’m seeing life in color again.

My life will be immensely lighter.

It’s my turn, now …

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RebLesXiGpk)

My Blog posts will be much lighter/brighter.

SMOKE & ICE

It was still raining when I woke up this morning 😁. Not a lot of rain, but enough to keep things wet – and wet is what we need 👏🙏👍

t was not a lot of rain, but it was some - some is better than none.

I went online to research the wildfire status this morning, but quickly deduced that that route would lead nowhere but angry. Fast. I refuse to have my eyes and thoughts assaulted by biased twaddle designed to pull stupids in: and swayed to the demonrat agenda.

Any article that takes a putrid turn from actual facts concerning the wildfires, and starts bitching about the need for ‘climate change!’ and accusations thrown President Trump’s way … is garbage to me. And I treat it as such.

Biased written {news} articles, biased phone {news} updates, biased online search engines ... I shut them all off.

President Trump has for months, consistently offered help to PNW States – and the overgrown brat governors, newsom, brown, and inslee – have for months thumbed their elitist noses/stuck their waspish tongues out at his offers: defiantly telling him, and the rest of America, that they “do not want or need his kind of help!” For months, while they marched with riotous crowds, arm-in-arm with blm anarchists; gave entire cities over to firebugs to be destroyed, and forced white Christians to wear masks under threat of fined imprisonment, while stating ‘people of color’ can be maskless (and they were, with no penalties) … President Trump was offering to send them help to get control of the out-of-control activities. All the self-retarded PNW governors and mayors did was hatefully bitch, blatantly mock, arrogantly threaten, and ignorantly renounce/deny help: stating they didn’t want, need, or appreciate his offers for help.

Anyone with a rational functioning brain could see where governors applauding firebugs, would lead: what is happening is insanity at its height. That people in the PNW would actually try to claim that these fires are not caused by malicious activity is ludicrous. Yes, there are some fires caused naturally by a too dry season … BUT there are also many fires caused by anarchist activity.

People have been caught setting fires!

For months the demonrat media  sources have gleefully reported, applauded, and shown in living color fires set in cities … and brazen cold-blooded race-based murders in Portland, OR streets … by blm terrorists. To try to deny facts is crazy. To blame President Trump for the raging PMW wildfires is really beyond the pale.

American law-abiding Citizens are not stupid. They are not blind. They cannot be brainwashed.

“Climate Change!” has nothing at all to do with deliberate human activity designed to destroy. The whole ‘climate change’ mantra is a scientific hoax. The truth is that earth cycles – this cycle has been happening since Earth was designed and created; this cycling is a necessary component to life on Earth. There is no mystery. Life involves death – no one can get away from that fact … and science cannot tweak that fact with ridiculous twaddle. Even dinosaurs could not escape their period of Earth’s cycle: and Trump wasn't even around then, though I am sure some "scientific" eco-freak will find a way to blame him for the demise of the dinosaurs, too.

((((WAKE UP PEOPLE!))))

newsom, in calimexarabia, is starting to acknowledge that the way “science” according to the faulty eco-nonsense has so far “managed” forest land has been a dismal and disastrous failure. brown, in deadhead oregon, is loosening her tight ass and begrudgingly “requesting Presidential help” … a little too late … but finally seeing that hate is not beneficial. inslee, washington state’s own special idiot, is still being an asshole – and has drafted yet another ‘open letter’ directed to President Trump, mocking/belittling and blaming instead of acting like a rational leader. inslee needs to go; he is a worthless tool – goosestepping to demonrat propaganda that is running our state into the ground waaaaay more than 6 feet under. And of course, clueless biden needs to be pulled off center stage and treated for dementia: he is out of touch with reality and babbling like the idiot he is.

Exiting all media outlets, and jumping off the political Crazy Train circuit (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDZtbBZuqb0), my mind touched on this time, last year. Last year, the rains came too – with a little more deluge, and no enthusiasm at all: {{I posted to FB, September 15^th, 2019: It is raining cats and dogs here – normally that would not bother me. I live in the PNW. Rain falls 95% of the time here; it is a rainforest region. But, today I am crying as much water as the clouds are pouring on us today. All I can think about is Bob’s cremains in Eden Valley. Under a deluge of rainfall. It is morbid, I know. But my mind just “goes there” while the rain falls outside the windows of our home … and the thought makes me cry.}}

I had, only weeks before, placed Bob’s cremains in the cemetery; and though I knew that Bob really wasn’t in that hole in the ground … I was still thinking like a wife: I knew he hated the cold wet weather that was bearing down on our region, and I knew he hated the pitch-black dark. Rationally, I knew his spirit was free from the ashy residue I had personally lowered into the ground – and that his free-floating spirit was not feeling any discomfort at all. But my grieving mind was not thinking logically: I was illogically still thinking like a wife to a flesh and blood man. 

Realistically, I knew that Bob would never experience darkness again. But my heart was having a hard time coming to terms with our new status – his, and mine. I spent a lot of time last year still behaving like a comforting wife.

I would almost panic at the thought of not being able to get to the cemetery to visit our plot and keep it tidy, and tended. I wanted Bob to know that I had not forgotten him.

Setting up placement marker's; really this was actually for for my benefit. Bob wasn't here to care. And there is no reason to care, beyond the clouds.

I drove to Eden Valley every week, from August 30^th to November 20^th – sometimes several times a week leading up to the last 2019 visit, November 20^th. Walking among the family headstones, and knowing Bob’s cremains were resting in the familial cemetery among his relatives who came west after the Civil War and laid the foundation of the cemetery – his great-great Grandfather Smalley, his Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, Grandparents … and his father, helped stitch my broken heart back together. It soothed my wounded spirit. If I was facing a difficult time, or going through a hard situation, I would drive to Eden Valley to talk to the breeze blowing through the cemetery. I planted crocuses on our plot block, hoping they would bloom in the Spring.

Our plot block became like a room in our home … I took care of it, and kept it ‘comfortable’. Just in case Bob’s spirit was passing that way.

I wanted real color to surround Bob's cremains placement instead of the fake, plastic color. I wanted life to spring forth from the barreness of the cemetery. (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/destination-locations_20.html)

I know.

It sounds a little off-kilter.

But a widow’s emotions, thoughts, and actions are a little irrational before she finds balance in her unfamiliar upturned life.

Bob wasn’t there, of course … and I am willing to bet he really didn’t care if I visited every month, or not. But I cared.

Bob wasn’t there.

I knew his essence has flown away.

But some of his earthen vessel was buried there. I needed the comfort of being as close to those remnants as possible.

As nutty as it sounds, my body actually calmed down just by being in the vicinity of what remained of his body.

My thoughts are a little more adjusted this year.

Also, today – last year, I was waking to the gentle sound of rainfall running down the gutters: missing Bob, and remembering the ringtone he had on his old cell phone for my phone number. I cried – but I also laughed.

And that memory still brings a smile to my lips 😉

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

This morning, after deducing that more {news} info about the wildfires would only upset me with the blatant biased political leanings; I decided I was done sitting on my duff staring out the window, when there was stuff needing to be done outside that wasn’t going to “do” itself. And aimless idleness was driving me up the proverbial “wall”. So, I mentally estimated the risks of spending time outside running back and forth under the low-lying smoke cloud … and figured it would be worth it. I mean, if my heart was going to be ‘worked up’ – it may as well be worked up on activity that would be beneficial.

And, I wanted to fight back against the heaviness of sorrow that unrelenting imp, Grief, will try to drag back into my life; with the shortening of the days, the darkness of the overcast skies, the inactivity of the coming months.

I have diligently worked hard to suture my torn heart back together – I refuse to allow Grief even the slightest opportunity to reopen that yawning bleak void.

Activity is my rebellious act to rage against the overwhelming sorrow of my soul. I know Yeshua understands this type of soul-sorrow missingness: He felt the heavy weight of sorrow in the Garden of Gethsemane … He understands that I am literally engaged in a fight for my life. He understands that I will do anything and everything I possibly can to fight against surrendering to the tidal wave of crushing ‘missingness’ that tormenting imp, Grief, can drag into my life under the gloomy atmosphere of the PNW right now.

I walked back to the bedroom and slipped out of my pj’s, and pulled some outside clothing on; defiantly snubbing Grief in the process 😉

Breaking loose. I need to get outside and get things done that need doing.

70-degrees and smokey outside.

My life story 😉

As soon as I stepped outside, my lungs did feel the immediate effects of the smokey atmosphere. But, I know my own body: I know how to pace myself, and figured that if I did not race back and forth at turbo speed to get the tasks done, I would be okay long enough to safely get most of what needed done, done.

All of life is a risk – know what risks are worth your time and effort.

Putting geraniums in their bins for overwintering under front porch.

Bin-less geraniums stored overwinter in the Shed. Since I gave Bob's table saws to his youngest brother, Kerry, Bob's tool shed is morphing into my potting shed.

I know the geraniums are only plants, but the years and seasons of my life to date can be recounted in the years these geraniums represent. I did not want to lose a single one of them to the overflow effects of wildfires miles away from here.

My lungs were burning while I was outside – but they survived without going into panic mode and sending me into a full-blown asthmatic attack, which would have been very frightening to go through alone: it was scary enough experiencing them with Bob’s comforting presence.

Thank You, Lord, for protecting me; and helping me do what needed done.

My eyes did burn – but they burn inside too, in the stale air.

My heartrate did accelerate – but I know the danger signs to be aware of … and they were not apparent. My heart was under duress because my lungs were struggling: they both eventually found a rhythm, that suited, so I could get the tasks done with a pace that kept everything on an even-keel.

I was outside 1 hour. Struggling to breathe & a bit shakey, but okay.

I don't let my limitations hamstring me. I'll be okay in a bit.

Everything was stressed a bit; but I’m okay – this is normal for me. Cleaning house, or chasing after kids can … and did, on occasion … have the same effects on my life. Like I said, I know the signs and how to pace myself accordingly to live a full, active, and happy life.

A sudden, searing foot pain that refused to back down as I was walking through the beach rock to put some bin-less geraniums in the Shed, is what really drove me inside.

I was pushing the envelope with the shortness of breath, so I’m thinking the foot pain was a reminder from Elohim that it was time to call it a day and get out of the smokey atmosphere.

O.M.G! The painful burn threatened to steal my breath away …

A pulled arch tendon is what really forced me inside.

Last time this happened was in 1975. Resting totally today.

So, I came in, hobbled to the bathroom cabinet and retrieved 2 Ibuprofen tablets to relieve the inflammation. And I grabbed the ice pack from the freezer too.

The arch area throbbed and burned for a while, but it’s fine now.

Pretty much sums things up 😉

When I could stand on my foot without discomfort, I potted some geranium clippings I had brought in the house with me – these either fell off during transport to bins, or were pinched from the original plants because they were too tall for the bins. I had success with overwintering clippings last year, so I hope these ‘take’ too: especially the clove-scented ones!

I miss Bob’s sideline cheerleading; he would be rooting with me for my rooting to take hold and succeed …