WORK A MIRACLE FOR ME LORD ~Eden Valley Chaos

I watered my garden area before leaving for Eden Valley this morning; lilies and parsley are doing very well 😊

The Asiatic Lilies are blooming, & the parsley is looking very nice; time to glean - and freeze it.

The Eden Valley issue, on the other hand … is not "doing well"; Eden Valley is not feeling very much like Eden, lately.

It seems like every time I visit the cemetery there, this year: there’s a new hellish development to deal with.

After watering the garden area, I decided to drive to Eden Valley and set things straight on our Plot: I had posted a few weeks ago, that our Plot had been dinked with … I needed to go back, today.

WHY? Post: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2022/07/ptsd-widowhood-experience.html

Important notations.

Things like this do matter while we are on Earth.

Placement accuracy is important.

4 years ago, I bought the entire Plot Section in case it's ever needed for any of our immediate family members.

I was thankful for the ground-softening rain ...

As I was leaving the cemetery, I passed Grandpa & Grandma Smalley’s Plot – and Dad Hargand’s Plot too … and saw that the shepherd hooks I’d placed there were missing!

Nowhere at all to be seen.

WTH

Is a new cemetery protocol in place?

Is nothing allowed on our plots anymore, except headstones, and plastic flowers? I placed a for curiosity’s sake call to Heather to find out what the new cemetery rules are: Heather is very rule-oriented, and very pigheaded about her rules being adhered to. I need to know what those rules are so I don’t step on her touchy toes.

The “Hi Heather, this is Val. I noticed on my cemetery visits, that Bob’s placement stake had been moved; that is very distressing … and just now, I noticed that the shepherd hooks I’d placed on his grandparent’s & father’s plots have disappeared, as well. I’m curious as to why – call me back when you can. My number is ---” call went straight to voicemail (I spoke in a very calm, very conciliatory tone; I want answers, not fireworks).

I played phone-tag with Heather all the way back from Eden Valley: she’d leave voicemails because I was in dead zones along the road … and when I had cell service again, she wasn’t picking up …

Down three-quarters in the tank, at this point; so, I bought gas in Cathlamet – and returned Heather’s 2^nd voicemail call here.

This is typical of Heather's character ...

We finally made prickly one-on-one-contact a little after 4 PM.

It’s hard to stay calm when speaking with her; her tone is very off-setting. She is a miserable person.

Heather is very clear that she does not want the responsibility of the Cemetery (every convo starts with that mention: she’s putting me on notice that anything I say will go in one ear, and out the other – she’s not wanting a solution) … yet, she will not pass cemetery duties off to someone more approachable: she bitches and whines about it, but she also wants the leadership position of being in charge since this cemetery is a Family Cemetery – and a Historical one, registered with the County. That’s what keeps her hanging on with a tight grip.

I try to be conciliatory when dealing with her; but it’s hard because her tone is so combative; her mouth is in fight mode right out of the chute. Example: Heather - “Why was Bob placed so far away from the headstone?” Me – “Because that’s where the hole had been dug before I arrived at the Cemetery, 4 years ago (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/08/between-now-and-then-until-i-see-you.html); I assumed that the arrangement had been made between you and Dave (the digger) because the whole cemetery arrangement was a nightmare scenario with you being so picky about everything. That’s where Dave dug the hole. And that’s why the stake placement is so important …” Heather immediately found offence where none was intended, and broke in with a snippy: “Well, Valerie, I’m sorry you feel everything was a nightmare …” Me taking control of the convo, again, and not letting her turn it into battle of the words: “Heather; you asked, I answered (thinking mentally: I’m not going down that tempestuous path with you, again!). I’m trying to understand the cemetery protocol dynamics at work here. I don’t want to be troublesome, but it is very distressful to see that things are continually rearranged – and in the case of Bob’s Grandparent’s Plot, and his Parent’s Plot; the shepherd’s hooks with hanging floral arrangements I had placed on their plots have been removed, and completely disappeared. I’m just asking why.” Heather: “To make things easier for the mowers. If you aren’t satisfied with that, you could leave the stake where it is, bring a lawn mower to the cemetery and mow the grass on your plot section, by yourself” (there’s that bitch mode making itself felt). I went stone-cold-silent with shaking anger. Her attitude was uncalled for: and totally unacceptable. I had stated several times that I did not want to be troublesome; and I had asked my questions in a conciliatory tone. But, I was also getting tired of her unwarranted bitchiness – best not to say anything for a heartbeat’s space of time. Heather: “Val? Are you still there?” Me (looking into the distance out my front window for a 10 ct. period of silence so I didn’t bite her head off): “Yes, I’m still here (appalled at the insensitivity and lack of compassion); I’m trying to digest what you just said to me. I have no issue with who mows our grass, but you need to understand that our Plot is a cremation plot, Heather … that means that we have to know where every placement actually is, before other placements can be in play – that is the reason for the stake being placed, and left in place. So that we will know before future diggings are made (is she really this dense? No: she’s just really that obtuse with queen-bee-attitude). Like I mentioned before Heather – I don’t want to be troublesome … and I’m sorry you view me that way; but we need to come to some kind of agreeable solution, here, for future family member placements. Grieving is hard enough without the added stressors. I’m willing to work with an agreeable solution to this ongoing cemetery problem.” Heather: “Grieving is hard – remember, I lost my father 4 years ago, too …” Me: “Yes, I remember. I was thinking of that very thing before you called tonight.” Heather: “You could have Bob’s cremains moved closer to the headstone, then you would know where he is without being stressed. We don’t have actual caretakers for this cemetery – everyone that is involved, is a volunteer worker. I could see if there is someone to do that for you; Dave may be willing to do that for you. He did it last time because you were alone, and needed help … and he did it at his own expense” (now she’s slapping the guilt card down). Me (taking the higher road and refusing the guilt tripping): “I wouldn’t have a problem with that suggestion – but I’d need to be there when the transfer is made. I’m still alone (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/08/still-standing.html); and I still need help getting this done if it’s to be done. I’d be willing to recompense Dave … for last time, a well as pay him this time – if he’s agreeable to help” (I doubt it will cost me that much; but, she had to get her spurs dug in. She’s got a serious anger issue). I also remember that in June of 2019 – I'll never forget her insensitivity during the most sensitive moment of my entire life – she told me that "by State Law, the hole dug has got to be four-feet deep; no exeptions" (What??? For cremains, for Pete's sake!): I stand at barely 5'2", with a 26" arm reach from shoulder to fingertip. There no way I can get Bob's cremains into a four-foot hole without lying flat on my stomach and dropping the cremains the remaining 2 feet depth. It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, and especially nonsensical, since people throw cremains into the frigging air, or sprinkle them into rivers, lakes, and oceans!! But she is an adamant stickler. Personally, I think she's crazy and more than a bit full of herself. Heather: “I’ll pass your number along to him; I don’t know when he’ll get back to you. It could be a week or so. (Huge drama-queen sigh for impact); we’re country people here (implying I’m a spoiled city girl who wouldn’t understand the pressures she’s under); we all work day jobs as well as working our farm duties. Except for Dave, he’s retired.” Me (ignoring the continual spurring; I want this call wrapped up. Pronto): “I understand country people – I was raised on a homestead in my childhood, so I get the “dawn to 10 PM thing”; and Bob worked away from home for years – and I also worked a 6-day/fulltime job; so I get the “busy weekend thing” (rolling my eyes, and thinking mentally: your situation isn’t that ‘special’ Heather!) … but back to Dave: tell him there’s no rush. At his ‘earliest convenience’ works for me. And could I ask a favor of you?” Heather: If I can do it (big sigh)” Me: “Please, leave the stake where it’s at, until we make the transfer. I do appreciate you taking the time to listen to me.”

Click – I ended the convo. I couldn’t take anymore open hostility and deliberate inflcition of pain ... and remain peaceful with that devilish harpy.

This whole thing is so unbelievable, that if I were not personally experiencing it ☹, I wouldn’t believe it were possible. Bob’s death was hard enough. Placing Bob’s cremains in the Eden Valley Cemetery was brutal on my emotions – and I’ve been dealing with the ongoing cemetery drama for four years: every year Heather throws a new wrinkle into the mix: this year, it’s digging his cremains up … and relocating them, to make the mowers happy. Those cremains were heavy to lower the first time around ... they'll be heavier now that they have solidified in the elements since 2019; and how am I supposed to lift them from a four-foot depth with a two-foot arm legth????? The whole thing is ridiculously cruel, and really unnecessary. And people wonder why I avoid {family} interaction!

Every time I have to deal with Bob’s whacky family members, I wonder if he had been adopted – because they are just plain strange: he never fit the {family mold} of stiff-necked/easily offended, uncomprehending/mulish Smalley weirdos.

((((PLEASE GOD. HELP THIS SITUATION GET SORTED!!!!))))

Bottom line: (1) it would be easier all the way around, to lift Bob’s cremains and place them closer to the headstone (I’m sure the burial box is history, but I hope I can collect all of Bob’s cremains, and make a successful transfer without mega heartache!) (2) NEW RULE strictly enforced by Heather: nothing but headstones and plastic flowers are allowed on Plots, now (3) I really dislike dealing with Heather; she’s so bitchy! I always hang up feeling things are a no-workable-solution-situation with her ☹ (4) I am going to pray that when Heather gives Dave my phone number, he will be agreeable; and this cemetery nightmare with Bob’s shirt-tail- relative (she’s married to Bob’s 2^nd cousin; Wally’s son – Wally was Bob’s 1^st cousin) will end. This whole thing has been ridiculous from the get-go because Queen-bee-Heather has made everything harder than it needs to be.

I really do not like dealing with arrogant, antagonistic people, who think they’re a cut above the rest; and treat me like a dimwitted drone.

Philip Stanley Klein – ‘Just Give It to God’ song: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBldegpMVDs)

I will not allow anger to eat at me; we both spoke – and I have handed it over to Elohim, to work out an agreeable solution.

Philip Stanley Klein – ‘Lord of the World’ song: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zF6WRkyzAzw)

“Give me a Shabbat miracle, Lord. I’m doing all I can do to honor my husband! Please put this heartache to bed, Father, and let this thing be done speedily and effectively. Amen.”

Philip Stanley Klein – ‘Ephesians’ song:

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QlJcjejfrI)

After that contentious phone convo (her end – not mine), I sorted through the mail I collected on the way to my driveway …

WOW. I'm not the only one going through hard times – or dealing with hostile people.

I think a bit of Shabbat wine is in order – it has been an extremely stressful, and frustrating day; I want to savor the goodness of Elohim’s unfailing love, and I want to reflect on the faithfulness and gracious love of the husband I enjoyed while I had him (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/08/it-took-while-but-we-finally-got-there.html) – as well as bask in the knowledge that I am greatly loved and highly favored with my spiritual Husband, Yeshua 😉

L’chaim! The speculative outcome for Bob’s remains, is on my mind this Shabbat ...

This entire week has been one emotional fueled spiritual brawl, after another: I’m really ready for some peaceful, relaxing, down-time!

ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS ~Shabbat

Joe Satriani – ‘Blue Foot Groovy’ tune:

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kN3opfgNHaI)

I love spending time in the country 😊

Though I live in the outskirts (rural area) pretty removed from actual ‘downtown’ … Longview is significantly expanding this year – and that expansion is seriously biting out a huge chunk of my {rural} area: the West End is starting to mimic downtown ☹

Heron Point is located this side of white boundary line shown on map.

So, when I get a change to flee the encroaching city sprawl … and spend time where the trees grown tall and thick, and screen doors offer a country welcome and a resounding whack sound when they shut; I’m out my front door and on my way with no time wasted 😉

But before I left home this afternoon, I made another batch of homemade Oat Milk for the coffee in my thermos travel mug; this time using a different recipe – I only strained it once through a cotton bandana; I don’t mind a thicker ‘milk’, and I don’t find the thicker style “slimy”, at all. I heat it a bit (30 secs) in the microwave before adding powdered creamer, 2 packets of sweetener, and a dash of cinnamon. Maybe heating the oat milk a bit before adding it to the hot coffee keeps my oat milk from the dreaded sliminess everyone else on the recipe pages keep yapping about … all I know is my method works for me. And I’m okay with being ‘different’.

DIY OAT MILK Recipe:

(https://minimalistbaker.com/make-oat-milk/)

Today is my Sleuth Sister get-together.

I had time to spare before our 1’noon sit-in, so I drove the long way to get there 😉

Beaver Creek Road; Longview to Cathlamet-WA

Erosion on Beaver Creek Road; 269 feet elevation – not a very steep incline, but the road is narrow and unstable on the lower end.

This way is less stressful that back-to-back traffic below, on Ocean Beach Highway (which is the scenic route along the Columbia River). Long scenic drives on winding country roads relaxes me; so, I will always take the country route. – some country routes will take me miles and hours out of the way, but to me those backroad routes are worth the extra time and gas.

Linda couldn’t make it to our get-together this afternoon; but Ramona, Becky, & I spend 5 hours of enjoyable chit-chat, laughter, sharing, and sleuthing 😊

Joe Satriani – ‘The Elephants of Mars’ tune:

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9HCGqByjak)

It was 6 PM when we parted ways and I nosed the Highlander home. Coming over the top of scalped KM (recent logging allows for good viewing now), the sunlit waters in the distance winked at me, so I pulled over to the road shoulder, and contemplated which part of the river was being shown.

Bob would have known.

But I am not Bob. And Bob is no longer available for questioning.

I could only guess.

Columbia River seen from top of KM; 760 feet elevation.

Further along; driving through Skamokawa, I saw that Moe Hill had also been recently scalped. It was weird to see it naked – it’s always been swaddled in forest as long as I’ve been in Washington, which is 56 years now. That hill holds a memory for me: not a memory shared with Bob, but a good memory, just the same 😉

Moe Hill seen from where my childhood home used to stand ...

One summer day, we 5 kids (my mother was 30 yo; I was 10, ramona was 9, Mahlon was 8, Carla was 7 & Sam was 5) hiked with my mother, from our home on Ingalls Road in Skamokawa, across the highway and through fields, up over Moe Hill (Moe Hill is 883 feet in elevation – and it was pure shale at the peak; but we crested it 😊) to my Aunt Terri's house (long gone), where the Skamokawa Vista Park Trail is now. I remember there was a wall of what I would describe as {glass} in the forest of one of those fields – that ‘glass’ was probably sunlight quartz: but it was long, and tall, and very bright in the sunlight. Like a wall of mirror glass; very beautiful, and I’ll never forget that sight.

I also remember my youngest brother was 5 years old when we made that lengthy hike, and my sister ramona had brought her little Dachshund (Snoopy) with us. The shale was deeper and slicker the closer we got to the top of Moe Hill, and we took a breather break for a bit when we finally crested the top. Just as we cleared the bottom, and started walking down the logging road towards Aunt Terri’s house behind the old school house, my father and Uncle Don were walking up the road to come find us. But my mother just laughed, and we laughed with her. We had been having fun on our long, exploratory hike. And my mother could read the sky – there was no chance we would get lost. But the men were very seriously worried (our breather break had put us behind arrival schedule), so we stopped laughing and meekly followed them. Every time I drive through Skamokawa, and I see that hill, I think of that hot summer hike over Moe Hill.

And I smile 😊

Continuing along Ocean Beach Highway home via the Cathlamet route, I passed through the wildfire section of the route.

WILDFIRE!

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2022/08/wildfire.html)

Site of the recent wildfire; Wahkiakum County.

Boot trail blazed by the firefighters ...

Coming around the corner at Stella – about 5 minutes from home – I saw a red ship: this is a new sight. A red ship is not something one sees every day unless you happen to be a captain or deck hand on this ship 😉

It was kinda startling. Interesting, too.

This bright red ship caught my eye; seen from Stella.

Stella from Heron Pointe; via Ocean Beach Highway - 7 min (5.1 mi) via WA-4 W

I had a great time with the gals. I enjoyed a relaxing countryside drive with scenic vistas. I smiled when reflecting on good memories. And my attention was snagged by a red ship highlighted by sunlit waters and a green forested hillside.

My Shabbat Rest began with a restful day; and I am thankful 😊

RABBIT!

Rabbits are so cute!

This morning, after posting the Crisp Waffles Recipe ~Chocolate Waffles post (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2022/08/crisp-waffles-recipe-chocolate-waffles.html), my right eye peripheral vision noticed a quick moving animal scurrying from the neighbor’s carport into my front yard. Hoping it wasn’t an unwanted nutria or muskrat (Heron Pointe Park is located near an inaccessible water dike that butts up against the northern edge of Park premises), I went to my front window and peeked out.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: a wild rabbit!

RABBIT!

So, I grabbed the phone and took a few snapshots, and videos 😊

A brown wild rabbit entertained me this morning.

Little brown wild rabbit.

Resting; the outside temperature is only 61-degrees – but humidity has already hit the 93% mark.

Wild rabbits are so cute – and I haven’t seen one since we lived on Merritt Drive on Westside Highway; we had lively kamikaze rabbits, there that liked to live dangerously by leaping and diving across the headlight beams highlighting the driveway 😉

I was happy to see this little fluffy bit of wild nature in my front yard; and I’m hoping it will not become a beautiful, destructive nuisance (garden, or home destruction). I ignored that line of thought … and just enjoyed the moment, which stretched into an hour of voyeur delight 😊

A cute little trespasser.

Feeling secure enough to start getting real comfortable.

Winding down ...

After a bit, it started getting restless; and hopped into another front flowerbed. I carefully creeped into the laundry room and removed my flipflops (I did not want a repeat of falling down the stairs, again! Bare feet are the safest thing on these porch stairs) before inching the door open, and stealthily padding quietly to the front end of the house hoping to get a {close up and personal} picture.

Making itself small in another front flower bed ...

I was outside in my pj’s, sneaking around the corner of my own house; LOL

Watching neighbors were probably wondering ‘what is the widow doing now’; let them wonder 😉

It's not even skittish; I'm not that far away from it.

((((YES!))))

Thank You, Yeshua!

That cute little bit of fluff made my fading flowerbeds look peppier than they are; blossoms are drying, leaves are starting to fall from overhead tree branches, and the river breeze has a little Fall nip to it, recently. We had no Spring to speak of this year, and the Summer has been short.

Fall is a mere 6½ weeks off ...

And away it goes! But it sure made my day while it hung around ...

Rabbits are considered “a lucky sign” in many cultures. A rabbit seen in the wild is seen as a positive – and having one cross your direct path is considered lucky: good luck in love and family, abundance and prosperity, intuition/spontaneity/and wittiness are all associated with seeing a rabbit.

The lifespan of a wild rabbit is around 9 years. Rabbits spend most of their short life within the same 10-acre area. Relocating rabbits confuses them, causing them to get hit by cars or be killed by unfamiliar predators.

As long as this little rabbit behaves itself and doesn't cause property damages, I'll be okay with it sharing my town lot.