Watched the Biden Townhall Tonight

For whatever it is worth at this late date, and I doubt its worth much to anyone.  If Joe Biden wins, I will accept him as my President.  I will love it.  Is he perfect no.  He’s an old white man, and in general as I see it they need to go.  But, he seems to be sincere in what he wants to accomplish, he’s trying to look out for all peoples –there is a lot of goodwill in the vibes he sends out.  I believe he is sincere about what he say and I believe he hit a home run tonight in the Townhall. 

I loved his answer about what his Justice Department would be like.  He is right, his job is to delegate, to lead, set an example — pull people together.   

I do wish he were younger.  But, I believe that if Harris shadows him enough, if something goes wrong, not only can she handle the job — she’ll do it very, very well. 
I have no qualms about voting for either of them.  Not at this junction of time.

Perhaps if it was Biden against George Washington I’d have some issue with Biden. 
That hypothetical is just a tad out there, but I am sure you get the point.

It is a crazy, crazy time with a President who adds nothing to the mix but more
and more disturbance.   A germ that simply won’t go away and discriminates against no one.  So many people looking at a future of homelessness, food insecurity, and more.
Throw on to the mix a willingness of the Republicans to just throw health coverage for millions of people out the window.

I am a registered independent.  I had a tendency to vote Republican most of my adult life.  But, at this point in the heart, I am a Democrat.  A Progressive Democrat.  There is no doubt that I will probably vote mostly Democrat the rest of my life. 

Go Joe!!! 

Posted in Climate Change, Covid-19, Elitism, Just Jabber, Political Crap, Politics, Prejudice, Racism, Rights, Sexual Assault, White Supremacy, Women's Rights | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Writing Sample about Racial Discrimination

Near Crater Lake, Oregon

North Umpqua, Near Crater Lake, Oregon. Something pretty to look at while contemplating the text.

 

The first slave to arrive in North America came in 1619. 

The mentality used to justify and continue the practice of using humans for their labor, keeping them under control via intimidation and violence of all kinds has left a legacy of trauma for generations on America’s African Americans.  The truth is, this is just the facts.  Like climate change, it can be debated and denied, but the proof sits right in front of our eyes. 

Racial Discrimination simply stated is ugly.  It is said that people are not getting the essence of the Black Lives Matter Movement. 

Of course, all lives matter.  When a person takes offense at the BLM movement and insists that blue lives matter or all lives matter they are offended because they are missing the issue at hand.  I have not run into a soul out there that says that any souls do not matter.  I have known people out there that were particularly racist and would say such a thing.  I do not associate with those people and have not for years.  But there are folks out there that insist they support the BLM movement in one breath and then in another say that saying BLM is wrong, and then they insist that all lives matter. 

Again, of course, all lives matter.  Many of ourselves have DNA the proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that we have a heritage where some ancestor out there spent time as indentured slaves, or in other sorts of arrangements.  If we are white people the truth is that the further the generations approach today’s time, the more the people with white skin have been able to climb up and away from any trauma their ancestors may have had.  A trauma takes about 4 generations to work its way out of the family DNA.  Because white people, in general, do not live with day to day discrimination, verbal and/or physical abuse because of the color of their skin for some time now, on the whole, white people have gotten healthier in terms of being able to succeed in society.  This can not be said for blacks.  Even after they were set free by Abraham Lincoln the black people often had to continue to work as sharecroppers, which in reality is another form of slavery.  They had to fight for resources and their rights every step of the way.  After freedom was given it was no time at all before they were having to deal with the Ku Klux Klan, Jim Crow, and voting suppression.  How good would your self-esteem be if you had to deal with that?

This is the point.  The discrimination and abuse have been drawn out for generations now.  It might be getting better, but the death of George Floyd and Breanna Taylor simply proves that the Black community is still dealing with systemic abuse from the parts of the white community that allows and even encourages it.  When it looks like a family might dig themselves out of the mud of racism something new happens.  Having been in an abusive marriage, I happen to know that the fight gets old, some people lose their fight and become frustrated.  Sometimes, they become willing to do what it takes to get whatever it is they are after.  Some even feel they are owed.  I can say in my heart, the Black community is right, they are owed kindness, respect, encouragement, and help with resources so that they can succeed at anything they want to do (so long as it hurts no one else. )

This is when cases like Trayvon Martin happened.  I have a bipolar, autistic son who was abused.  He once had behavior issues so bad that I was concerned I was raising a new Charlie Manson.  No matter what he did – killing him for any reason was never an option.  People should put themselves in this place— if Trayvon was your kid, would you have needed to kill him to defend yourself?!  Probably not!  The worst I ever had to do to control my son was physically sit on him and stay that way until police arrived and took him to the hospital for me.  The abusers in the community need to do some soul searching and learn some new tools for handling confrontation so that they are not the abusers.

Let there be no mistake.  Abuse of any form: racism, discrimination based on anything that might be different from YOUR described norm, violence, intimidation, verbal abuse, manipulations of people, societies, or whatever group or individual is wrong.  It has life long and generational consequences.  That is why it is wrong.  The people who miss the meaning of BLM matter are missing these issues when they decided that all lives matter.  As a whole, white people, have not had to live with the realities that their child, their brother, their father, their mother, sister, cousin may die because someone else sees them as SOMETHING with such little value.  This is why people say BLM.  Because they have been picked on for the entirety of American history and they are tired and trying to make a point.

Live with it.

 
 
 
Wow, Peggy. Your argument comes through very clearly! The essay takes a position on the BLM movement, presents single-topic paragraphs, and draws on history and personal experience as evidence for the position. I especially like the way the early body paragraphs reach toward an opposition argument and the way the paragraphs use parallel personal experiences in order to help the reader understand your position. Nancy
Xxxxx Xxxxxx
Posted in History, Memories, Paternalism, Personal, Racism, Rights, White Supremacy, Women's Rights | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Who is the Loser & Sucker?

Front side of postcard, photo of Fort Ord, California

Front side of postcard, photo of Fort Ord, California. Where my father spent part of his time in the US Army.

Back side of postcard of photo of Fort Ord, California.

Back side of postcard of photo of Fort Ord, California. One of the places my father was stationed while in the Army

From Alfred Rowe, 12/18/2001: ” The post card that your dad (Alvin C. Rowe) sent mom (Lily McClaskey Rowe) was taken at Fort Ord and was when your dad was doing his six months duty at Fort Ord. The line is to the barrack that he was living at.   I was at the same place a year later doing the same thing only a couple of buildings away.  The postmark tells you the date and also his serial number is ng //// and that means he is in the National Guard.  He bought a gray dodge sedan and the engine went t u (sic).  Then he enlisted in the regular army when he was in Germany.  I was in basic. We joined the national guard when we were in high school. To get in the army with his (Alvin Rowe)  feet the way they were he had to get in through the guard and then when he went regular army he had to sign a waiver so he couldn’t come back on the government for his feet. …I have it written down here that he loved the army so much that he went regular.  

The paragraph above was written by my uncle in 2001.  He was identifying as many unknown photos as he could that I had posted on my genealogy website.  He was talking about himself, my father.  He mentions my grandmother.  On 20 May 1958, my father sent his mother a postcard photo of at least part of Fort Ord in California.  

The bottom line here is that my dad was born with feet problems.  A condition that is passed on because I inherited it.  When he was a little boy he had surgery on both feet.  If I recall properly (and I might not be) he had some bones fused or something like that.  He wore braces for a long, long time from what I understand.  I’ve never seen a photo of him in them though.

There were, at the time, actually, two things that should have (legally) kept my father out of the Army in 1958.  One was his foot problem.  The other was that it was against the law to admit anyone to serve in the military if they’d had Rheumatic fever as a child.  Who knows if anyone at the time knew that there was a lawsuit waiting to happen.  It never did though. 

This was not the whole story that my Uncle told me.  Evidently, my father was told that he’d have to prove himself in order to get into the Army while in high school.  He worked hard to get there.  

Now make no mistake my dad made a lot of mistakes in his life.  As we all do.  But, as far as I am concerned these are amongst some of the most admirable events in his life.  He worked to get in.   Having inherited his foot problem I am intimately aware of the pain he endured.  There is not a day that goes by that my feet are not hurting.    I’ve had jobs where I stood on my feet all day or even walked all day.  At the end of the day, all I could do was fall into the bathtub and try to soak the pain away.  BenGay has been my best friend for the majority of my life.  

He went into the service, he survived those long marches and training that are required of every young man despite the pain in his feet.  God only knows what long term symptoms lingered from the Rheumatic fever from childhood.  

I do not know why my father wanted to join so badly.  But, I know from life experience and hearing multiple stories over the years that some people join for economic reasons.  Some just see life as being more financially secure this way.  Some join because of the mystery, and the romance of the idea, some of them even hope it will attract the young ladies.  Some young men join because they were raised by their families to believe it was their patriotic duty to do so.  For them, it was just one phase in their lives to get through.  Others joined because they honored their country that much.  They wanted to be of service to their country and fellow citizens.   Some of them even went in to help them complete their career choices.

My current husband joined for the last three reasons.  He thought it was his duty based on what his family said while he was growing up.  He honored his country and wanted to serve to protect his fellow human.  By becoming an MP (Military Police) he hoped it would help spring him forward into a career of law enforcement in order to be of service to his fellow citizen.   

Regardless of the reasons why either of them joined, the truth is that they did.  Then they used that service to better their lives in the long run.  After the Army, my father went to a technical college and learned how to be a Cement Mason.  For as long as he worked that is what he did.  Unfortunately, his heart had other ideas for him, and his life was cut short, he passed away at age 43.  His heart weakened originally by the rheumatic fever, a smoking habit, and the standard American Diet all contributed to his death.  More than likely genetics played a big part, as hypertension runs on that side of the family in a bad, bad way — and men for several generations died young on our Danish side of the family. 

More than likely, my father gave the best parts of his life, when he was the strongest and most able to the United States of America.  He spent time in Fort Ord and in Germany.  He finished his tour.   As a kid, I remember him joking about peeling a lot of potatoes.  Said he was a cook in the Army, but peeling potatoes was a punishment.  At this point in my life, I kind of doubt he was punished much for anything.  The truth is Fort Ord is where the Army sent you if you were training to be a cook in the Army.  He went on to also be an ammunition handler.  He trained in Germany in the rain, snow, and other weather.  I never once heard him speak ill of the experience.  Never.

In what capacity can my father ever be referred to a loser or sucker when it comes to what was just read?  There is no loser or sucker there.  He thought about what he wanted, he worked for it, he got what he wanted, he kept up with his responsibilities and he was honorably discharged.    What wear and tear did the experience take on his heart?  How much did he really give to the country while he was doing that tour?  

My husband’s father died at an even younger age than my father due to heart problems.  From family history, it is really obvious that genetics is at play.  My husband is now amongst the longest living males in the family.   This at 57 years old.   After his father passed away he and his brother were tested for cholesterol levels and were found to be extremely high even in their childhood.  This realization began a series of monthly trips to Stanford University for the two boys where they were given all sorts of experimental drugs for lowering cholesterol.  Sometimes it was a vaccine, sometimes it was pills, and other times it was a glass of chalky substance that they just had to chug down.   Their mother was educated about diet, but in the 1970s and 1980’s not as much was known about diet as is known today.  The diet did not work.   He is probably one of the first people to ever be put on a statin, he was put on a Lipitor while young.   So, when he went to join the service he found out that to enter one must not be on any sort of maintenance drug including cholesterol-lowering drugs.   It’s probably a good thing he did not know me back then because I probably would have beat him over the head, but the young man made the decision to toss the medications, and join the Army.  He ‘lost’ his eyeglasses around the same time, though it was after joining when they got in the way of his aim.  

Clyde gave up those life and health saving drugs for nearly eight full years.  In this time span, he did serve as Military Police.  He did all the marches, physical ed, and from what it sounds like, endless paperwork as a Customs agent.  He was in while three different military actions happened including the first Gulf War.  He wanted to go to fight that one.  But, much to his disappointment, he was left in Germany where he’d already been for over four years.  He was part of the team that inspected the equipment moving from Iraq to the United States.  Part of the job was to inspect tanks and make sure there was not one iota, not a speck of dirt on them that could transfer a germ, insect, or any other matter that could infect a person, or environment with anything dangerous to people, agriculture, etc.  Someone had to do that.  It wasn’t his dream job, but he did it.  I’ve never heard him complain about that.  Nor have I ever heard him complain about the 24-hour shifts he had to take while working as a “tower rat” in Germany.   It was all pretty much part and parcel for the job.  What I have heard complaints about was about the time he spent in Germany guarding chemical weapons that were made illegal by the Geneva Convention.  The U.S.A by this point was hiding what they had.  The “leakage” of the weapons was measured by the level of the chemical in the soldier’s blood.  The doctor on the base drew the blood, got the results, and made two copies of the paperwork.  One copy went on to the government.  The other copy was locked in a safe in his office.   Today, he wonders just how much the chemicals have hurt his health.  It has stated it was never a choice.  He was told he was going, and if he did not sign the release and go he’d be moved over to infantry.    

Where is the loser or sucker there?  These men and women give pieces of their lives to strangers.  They are willing to die in order to defend a person’s right to freedom of speech, religion, peaceful protesting, legal immigration, etc., etc., etc.  

I have a 2nd cousin who spent at least one tour in Vietnam.  He eventually succumbed to cancer in later life.  But, the war took a physical toll on him.  My guess is that it took one hell of a mental toll as well, when you look at his personal life, he was married about 5 times.  Yet, people in the family who knew him still talk positively about him and his character.  

Losers and suckers do not willingly give of themselves for others in such major ways. 
Members of the military no matter what state they are in: Active, Retired, Honorably Discharged, etc — All of them were serving an idea that was bigger than themselves or even their own local circumstances.  These people are HERO’s.  They join and face a grueling life while serving.  

Instead of calling these HERO’s names, we all owe them a debt for being willing to protect us and our way of life.  They deserve a thousand thank yous from each and every one of us. 

Thank you to family members and all service members: 

My husband, Clyde L Snyder

My paternal uncles:

  • Marvin W Rowe, I – National Guard
  • Alvin C Rowe – National Guard, US Army
  • Richard R Rowe – United States Navy

    Paternal cousin, Ronald E Horton – US Army, Bronze Star, Vietnam

    Great Great Grandfathers
    Jesse F Jones, Union Army, Illinois
    William Murphey, Union Army, Iowa, injured (badly) while a Prisoner of War.  survived, Anderson Prisoner camp.
    Alden B Rowe, Union Army, Maine, injured during a battle. (Probably Cedar Creek)

    I also have family who served on the Confederate side of the Civil War, direct ancestors.  
    Their last name was McClaskey

    And so many more cousins (some who died in the line of duty), great grandfathers who served in Indian wars, revolutionary war, the Union Army, Confederate Army,  WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and other military actions. 

 

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Here’s Your Sign…

STOP! Do NOT pass GO! Do NOT collect $1200!

I had a kind of ephiny today. Sort of. Clyde and I talking about stuff on the news. I went back to what I was doing asking myself just why the Republican’s thought they could actually do what Clyde and I had been talking about. I was kind of tossing that around in my head when I remembered a conversation I had with the major donor at the historical society. She and I were having a conversation about the Vice President of the society and how the artifacts in storage were being mistreated and also, about how he was planning on hiring an unlicensed, non-contractor, and ex con to fix the roof on the museum.

I had just been relieved as President of the society, by the Vice President — but while President, I had decided against this suggestion as following through would have been unethical, and more than likely ileagle. The lady had me repeat, she was elderly and a bit hard of hearing. I repeated. She thought just a little bit and then she came back with, “I don’t give a damn how it gets done, I just want it done!” I was taken aback! Shocked would be the proper word. She didn’t care about the abused artifacts or the potential for dishonest tax forms either.

Fast forward a year and a half or so, and Clyde was having a conversation with a friend who is a known to us Trump supporter. We were at his home. The news was on and Clyde made a comment about Trump and that was the first mistake. The friend said something, and Clyde answered with a kind of, “yea, but….” The friend yelled at the top of his voice (I know, I was there and heard it two rooms over really loud and clear) — “I know he’s an ass, but he’s getting what I want done.” Said friend attends a Lutheran Church in Roseburg which I believe is probably conservative leaning not that is the point.

The point is that I realized today that what I am a witness to is the problem with society today at least in the United States. Maybe it has always been the problem, but I can tell you I’ve never seen it until the 2016 Presidential campaign. Somewhere along the line the Christians on the right decided they could justify any behavior to get what they wanted. Oh, did I mention the big donor attended the same church as the friend… I knew them both, but they did not know I knew the other. Now, along with Christians we have bigoted (some who are also supposedly Christian) people who think that white supremacy is ok, misogyny is ok, racism is ok… obviously child abuse is ok, because NO one is talking about the photos taken of Trump with the teen girl on a BED on Epsteins private island! These photos have been circulating for years and years!! Long before he was thinking of running for President (I mean, seriously that is).

So, the ephiphany in my mind, and I’ve heard this before, but now I have my own example is that Trump is the symptom. He is not the problem. In and of himself, he is pretty harmless. “WE” as a nation gave him permission to f* us over the way he has. (Remember, no one can take your power without your consent theory?!). And the logic “we” used was that we didn’t care how it got done, we just wanted it done, even by an ass.

Both the vice president of the historical society (Ken Deatherage, who also attends that same Lutheran Church in Roseburg) and the donor are old enough to be my parents. So, they can’t blame the mess on the younger generations. My guess is they inherited the attitude from their parents. Or maybe they just relaxed because their own lives became so cushy. I really have no clue. Our friend, also has a pretty cushy life but he worked for it, either way he see’s the ‘right’ way as the only way. There just is NO middle ground. He spoke very loudly and made himself quite clear that he was willing to pay the price for what he wanted.

In the end, my guess, is all these people will soon be asking themselves what the hell happened. When did things get so out of control? The answer is going to be, it was your vote that let the Geni out of the bottle. Regardless, it is the truth, the man is the symptom of a larger problem. In general our country, has lost its value in ethics, proper morality, the golden rule, you name it. Or perhaps its the top 1% who has lost it. Either way, you’ve got your sign.

Coming Next:  Two of my kids are direct descendants of Anse “Devil” Hatfield.  He is if I recall correctly their 5th great grandfather.  There has been much made of psychological review of at least the other family involved in the famous feud, The McCoys.  I have yet, to read a review of anyone or any circumstance related to the psychological review of the Hatfield side of the feud.  Being an ex-wife, of their father, being in a marriage that lasted nearly 16 years, and still being in touch with some of the family, puts me in touch with information about the family.  Much of which, can’t hurt anyone because the main players have passed away.  My theory, however, is that mental illness probably ran on that side of the family.  While it probably did not start with Anse, he most certainly passed it on.  

Posted in Announcements, Culture, Elitism, General News, History, Political Crap, Politics, Prejudice, Racism, Uncategorized, White Supremacy | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

That Sense of Dread…

 

A 20 (or so) year old me, he a year and half older.  Neither of us look terribly happy.  I know that I was not.

“Je Maintiendra”
The racist, entitled, pig who was never a police officer-but was very violent in terms of what he thought he could get away with.



I have been dealing with a horrible sense of dread this past week or so.  I kept looking at the calendar wondering if it was an “anniversary” time.  It took me until yesterday to realize.  My father died 37 years ago yesterday.  

Yes he was mean.  Sadistic is at least part of the description.  But, he could also be nice, loving, cuddly, and playful (without it hurting even!).  Obviously I loved him, or I would not have a hard time around his death date.  But, I was also scared shitless of him too.

After the funeral, either that evening or the next, myself and my step mother  and uncles got together to decide who got what.  Even things that my step mother said my dad wanted us kids to have an uncle would speak up and say, “No, Alvin said I could have ….(whatever it was)”.  To say that I felt stolen from between all of them was to say the least.  I was all of 21 years old, pregnant and trying very hard to not let the situation affect my baby.  Emotionally I was low key… I was doing all I could do to NOT feel a thing.  I did not want all that negativity to hurt my baby in anyway.   To say that my uncles hurt my feelings was an understatement.  I have kept that a secret until now.  The world knows now, but my sister has no clue because she would not be sympathtic in the least.   She thinks I go through all this shit with no feeling at all.  

During this trip to Oregon to attend the funeral,  I had flown in from Ohio where I lived at the time.  While in Oregon my uncle Bobo (Alfred Lee) verified a memory for me about an older 1/2 sister that I have.  He gave me a name even.  Well, the maiden name of the mother.  So, from that point on, I knew that the “memory” I had of mom and dad fighting over wether dad would go and see this child was real.   Mom wasn’t going to have any part of it.  She did not want him to be responsible for child support in any form.  I was a little girl and I got that much out of the fight.  So, dad snuck and uncle Bobo went with him.  They parked on the street and watched the little girl play.  According to my uncle the top part of her face looks like me, and the lower part looks like my sister.  She was the product of the union of my father and his high school sweetheart (or so I was told).   I’m still looking for her. 

I flew home… the plane made an emergency landing in Denver.  We were told by the pilot something was wrong with the plane and it was being checked over.  We were not removed from the plane.  We were never told what was wrong.  But, eventually we took back off and I got into Covington, Kentucky where the Cincinnatti Airport actually lives.   I was emotionally exhausted.  My (then) husband wanted sex as soon as I got home.  I was four months pregnant– emotionally exhuasted and just had no interest in the least.  As was normal for him, he would not take “No” for an answer.  I even told him I was really tired and did not feel well because I was so tired.  He still insisted….  So, 37 years ago today or tomorrow, I was forced into unwanted sex (again).  

This is a really heavy time of year…. because in one month and 5 days it will be the 26 years since I left that husband.   That was 1994.   In the weeks leading up to this situation many, many things happened.  It was a flat out crazy, stupid time.  We both did stupid stuff.
From my side  of it, I was about as unhappy as anyone could be.  I wanted out in a big, big way.

Rewind back to 1980.  We were newlyweds.  He had already informed me that I was to come home from my job and get undressed and wait in bed for him to get home.  I’d already been called his “empty headed play thing” more than once.  I had already been demeaned and had items put up inside me that hurt like hell.  At 18 & 19 years of age, I was no where ready to defend myself from some one like that.  He came home from work one night and told me that a newspaper (Cincinnati Enquirer) photographer thought that I was really sexy and wanted to take photos of me.  He wanted me to think about it.  My instant answer was, “No”.   Later after thought, I thought maybe I would.  But it had turned out that according to the ex, he’d told the guy no from the get go.  It was never a choice.  I doubt if it was even true.  

Another night he came home…. and brought up the idea of swapping mates with other couples.
I can look back now and realize he’d probably had some female catch his eye.  But, at the time I took him for his word.  It came up in conversation with an employee at… you guessed it the Enquirer.  He was a security guard there.   I had NO idea people even did these sort of things.  The whole idea came as a shock to me.  Again, my instant answer was “NO”.

But, I never forgot that question.  Would I?  Could I?  Is that even a real thing?  Life went on and the idea just cooked in there somewhere.  Fast forward to 1994.   The idea came back to the surface.  I had filed for divorce but we were still living together and trying to work things out.  Call it a crazy time.  Regardless of us “trying” to stay together, I was as I said earlier, really, really unhappy.  He was preparing to move back to Ohio with two kids and me.  I had made up my mind that I was NOT going back to that hell hole.  I was staying in California.

I guess in someways I had already begun separating from him.  In many ways– I knew by now that he was abusive, selfish, and in terms of sexual behaviors at least partly deviant.  I was looking  around at all the fish in the sea.  Now, I brought up trading mates.  I could add excitement to the relationship.  It could broaden our horizons.  I could sow the wild oats I had never sown.   There were all kinds of pluses if it were handled right.  I never saw any bad side to it.  I am one of those people who when I am feeling “normal” always sees the glass as half full.

He liked that idea.  I guess he started searching for a couple right away, or had one in mind.  Not sure about that.  Either way within a few days he came to me and asked me what I thought about a certain couple who lived around the corner.   The man absolutely gave me the creeps.  She was ok I had no issue with her.  But, I wanted nothing to do with him.  I told my ex this.

As it turns out the couple had the same breed as one of the birds I owned.  I asked him if they wanted mine.  I was off loading my precious birds in preparation for moving to Ohio even though I had absolutely no intent on going.  I was so confused.  The man happily (so far as I could tell) took the bird, a Senegal Parrot.  Days later the man calls me.  Tells me that the birds have laid an egg, and asked me if I wanted to come and see it.  I said sure.  

I grabbed my little boy by the hand and we walked around the corner.  I don’t even remember seeing an egg.  He opened the back sliding screen door and offered my son the option to go out and play.  My son, all of four years old, took the man up on the offer…   Out he went.  

It made me uncomfortable.  I became more uncomfortable when I realized the wife was no where to be seen.  I was ready to leave because I did not like my son being out in the  yard, basically not being monitored.   So, I made a move toward the backyard and was in the process of saying, “thank you, and good-bye”…

The man cornered me and told me that my husband had come to him to talk about swapping mates.  I put myself on one side of their dining room table while he stood where he was and informed me that my husband would never have his wife, but he sure was going to have me.  

I tried my damdest to run, but I had a child to scoop up, and I had to do it in a calm manner so as to not upset my child.  There was too much disadvantage, I lost the fight.  I was forced.  I can look back now…. and realized that I could have bit the hell out of him.  But, I have to say that my experience up to that point probably would have led me to not follow through anyhow… I had a tendency to get hit when I stuck up for myself with the ex.  

When the man finished he let me go and went  out of my sight.  I practically fell into his kitchen
sink trying not to vomit.  Trying to pull myself together so I could grab my son.  I did do that the best I could.  We made a beeline for home.  When the husband got home I told him what happened.  The big tough man who was supposed to love me didn’t even seem like he was sorry.  There were no punishments for the man.  Not even a suggestion to call the police. 

So, 26 years ago, any day now… I was raped again.  As I say, this is rough time of year…
It is no wonder there is a sense of dread…  in my way I’d rather not remember these things or deal with the emotions that still live on inside all these years later.  

 

For what it’s worth, these stories, images, and anything else on this website, unless otherwise stated belongs to myself, and I reserve all rights.  © Peggy A Rowe Snyder.  Known once upon a time as Peggy A Miller /Misty Skyes

Note: To my X-husband, who still owes me 30K due to running from child support obligations.  I know exactly where you are, Dragunov.   I know about your business of removing “dangerous animals”.  I know you are “retired”.  That you claim your step children and their children as your own all the while ignoring your own.  You are really some piece of work.    Watch out!  Might want to check in with the Chamber of Commerce.   BTW, kinda funny that you are still lying after all these years just like that 16 year old boy did.  You’ve never volunteered at a Serpatarium, who the hell you trying to fool???  “Have you got to be right or something?”  You don’t have a college degree in anything related to your hobby — removing snakes for people.  Whatever…  You are still a worthless looser.  Wait until your present wife figures out what a big liar you are!!!  P.S. I know you read this blog sometimes.  It is the only way you could have found that number to call years ago….

That was never a true marriage.  It never had a chance.  I would not have mattered how hard
I worked at it, it was always one sided.  You were out for yourself.  That kind of attitude and behavior does not work when a person tries to couple up with another.  Think about that one!

 

Posted in Children's Rights, Memories, Personal, Rape, Rights, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, Women's Rights | Tagged | Leave a comment

American Politics 7/31/2020

 

Had a family member send a link to some political stuff.  Left leaning which is ok. I am just so overwhelmed with emotion about the state of our nation that I am having trouble absorbing anything new now.  For those who give a damn, I never voted for Trump, I never wanted him to win.  I have considered him a predator for years before he became professional politician. 

Years ago, I heard claims from his (now ex) wife that he was guilty of domestic violence. Years ago, I saw a photo of him sitting on a bed with a teenaged girl who was not his child.  Years ago, I learned that the photo was taken at Jeffery Epstiens private island where sexcapades run amock and children are used as if they are an object to be (sexually) used and then tossed away.   In the photo both parties are appropriately dressed, there is nothing really bad about it.  Except to say that a grown man is sitting on a bed with a young teenage girl.  But, said man has never been into the sales of mattresses or bedding, so what the hell?  Maybe if was his daughter he was visiting in her room, saying good night or something.  But it wasn’t.  Those stories from long ago lay dormant for a long time.  The man was beyond any sphere of reality that I lived in.  Then came the Steele Dossier.   I’m sorry but with the things I’ve seen and heard about the man over the years, why question the dossier regardless of how nuts it sounds.  The man has a history and it’s just not pretty.  He is a predator.  

I have been trying to enlighten people about this for four years now.  He is probably a child molester.  He is racist.  He is misogynist… do I really need to go on? I have been asking people for four years (or more) if that daughter in that photo was YOUR DAUGHTER would you still feel the same way about him?  What if your daughter was the one he “grabbed by the pussy.”  No one  that I have met and leans right will even seriously entertain it.

Let’s just sum this up like so many already have — the man is a walking talking mental and emotional wreck with no capacity for compassion, empathy, love, or anything else.  It’s all about him, and the almighty dollar.  He doesn’t give a rats ass about YOU! So, why did you vote him in?  It’s a real question?!

So, I got this link, and I’m overwhelmed and another cousin answers the original post: “I vehemently disagree as I’m full right republican.”  Of course this cousin is entitled to this opinion.  I can’t say I understand it in the least at this point, but she can have it, I won’t stand in her way.  

But, I wrote an answer.  And the answer was written from the passenger side of a moving car so it was sloppy and grammatically incorrect.  So, I have cleaned it up, and am posting it for the Ethernet, or perhaps the Othernet…or perhaps the Awefulnet, maybe even the Ly’ngNet.   It will digitally reside on my Facebook account, my blog, and the Twitter post that I answered:   

“What I see & recognize is that we have a man in power who is blatantly gas lighting the nation. Who has now floated the idea of postponing an election because he doesn’t want to loose. With right wingers so stuck in their position that they cant see the forest for the trees. I am sickened by the dysfunction of America. At this point I want to cry every day when I see on the news what white supremacists are doing in the name of God & Country.

Those who support the rights of others (Trump & crew) are in denial of what is really going on out there (in the world), AND support this predator, who now parades as POTUS… need to examine themselves & their beliefs.” 

I have seen the election of this power monger not as a political issue.  I have seen it as a moral issue.  When is it ok for anyone with no sort of moral code ok for a job that requires a moral code?  Christian friends have literally said to me, “Yes, He’s an ass, but he’s doing what I want him to do.”  Friends that is about as morally hypocritical as one can be.   This is precisely where I decided that people on the right really need to examine themselves inwardly at the beliefs they hold. ” They will find that they are able to justify the worst in human behaviors.

A few days ago I disagreed with a friend from high school.  Her remarks were obviously angry.   Immigration was the hot topic.  She is a very right leaning “Christian”.  She leans on her said Christianity,  and yet she spouts the hate like some regurgitating bird–   

 

So what if her immigrant ancestors came here legally.  Nearly all of them came here and mistreated others– call them what you will but the mistreated were people and they ethnicity varied: African,  South American, Mexican, Middle Eastern, Jewish, Russian, American Indian, Irish.  

Our country has participated in and helped to virtually exterminate a race of many clans of people we call today “American Indians.”  These clans spoke different languages, had their own civilized culture, art, spirituality, rules for the home, marriage, hunt, etc.  Maybe we didn’t understand their culture, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.   Where do we get off claiming our people came “legally” when they were not capable of treating someone deemed below them with kindness and compassion?  Were your Ancestors ETHICALLY living their lives?  Did they show benevolence,  the Christian promise of love and compassion that you espouse and can not even follow yourself? 

The friends argument spewed of white entitlement, and there is NO RIGHT to white entitlement!  We came, and we conquered! What do we deserve for that??!!!!!  Yes, many white people worked hard to help build this nation.  But a good percentage of this nation was built by either enslaved people or people who were treated so poorly, paid so little that the reality is they were enslaved.  When one looks at it as I see it then immigration ceases to be a political issue.  It is a moral issue.  It is a humanity issue.  It is a question of are you going to treat these souls with kindness and compassion or are you going to toss them away like some piece of worn out shoe leather?  Yes, our culture is still under paying people, using them, and tossing them away.  Spitting on them because they come from South of the Border!

 

Btw, a little note. When you offer these words, “I never enslaved anyone, why should I pay?” You are in your way justifying your ancestors behaviors. Racism is most definitely alive and well in our country.

 

This is the fundamental problem I have with the right at the moment.  When they decided as a whole to back a predator they lost me, period.  Then as I became more educated and started applying the ethics that I want to run my life by (again) I found that I have probably been incompatible with the right wingers for my entire adult life.  As a young person I misunderstood what all the parties stood for, I guess, and I mislabeled myself. I have lived a life incompatible with who I have always really been.  Trump was just my make or break moment with the right wingers.  Their support for him, and his racism, his woman hating way, his classism, his looking down on the common people– broke my support for them.  They will never get me back.  I do not see them as the party of the people.  Not that any other party is perfect, but at least there are parties that are far more supportive of regular, hardworking, people.  

So, I closed my statement on Twitter with this, “Now I am done with this conversation because I don’t want to loose family.”  And simply put I do NOT want to loose family, nor friends, nor anyone else that I think might be important to me regardless of the reason. But, the sad, sad truth is, at least in my mind, is if you support a predator — then even if you are family, I really can’t support you.  And that is simply the truth.  

As a mother of a child who was hurt by a predator.  As a woman who was married to a predator.  As a child myself, who grew up under the thumb of a sadistic father — I can not support anyone ever who supports any predator —be that person male or female (or other), –be that person black or white, –friend or foe, –family or not.    If you support a predator then there is something dysfunctional about you and your thinking.  It is time for you to re examine your theories, your beliefs, your logic…call it what you will—but it’s never ok to support a bad guy.  Trump is a really BAD guy.  

That is my line in the sand.  I’m done with my rant now.  I’m going back to my corner where I am safe.  I am lying low in more than one way now.  This stuff this country is going through is really tearing me into pieces emotionally.  I do not need it. 

A "normal" post

A “normal” post. The Emperor has no clothes on.

Posted in Children's Rights, Culture, Elitism, History, Just Jabber, Political Crap, Politics, Prejudice, Racism, Rights, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, White Supremacy, Women's Rights | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Of all the things I miss the most….

I really do miss my kids the most. 

Was talking to my other half last night.  About what the kids do not understand about me.
At this point in my life, I do not want to be critical of them.  I do not want to correct them.
I do not want any sort of confrontations over anything.  I have been at this point in my relationships with them for a long, long time now.  

Health plays into why I feel this way.  I’ve had a known heart condition since I was 43.  Obviously it didn’t just all of a sudden happen.  I’d been living with it almost my entire life.  
So, when I said I was tired I wasn’t tired like a normal person, I was tired like a person with a heart issue.  I do not have energy to criticize, manipulate, be demanding, point out someone’s faults.  In general if I like you we will have a friendship (or whatever applies).  If I do not like you, I will put up with your presence if I must.  But, if you are not a necessity in my life (say you do not sit on the same board of directors I do) then, if I do not like you, I simply do not have anything to do with you.  That simple.  There are no confrontations, no lies, no tears, no manipulations.  I just don’t call you or make any pretense of caring in the least. You were zapped out of my life, because frankly, I’m too tired for the negativity that you have a tendency to saddle onto other people.  This is in general, and pertains, not at all to my kids.  

A reason that a couple of the kids grew up, or grew older thinking I was stupid enough to not see how I was being lied to or manipulated. Is probably that I let way too much slide with no consequences.  When you have had a child “kidnapped” and kept from you for six years, and then are reunited after those years what it comes down to, is that you don’t know the kid anymore, and the kid doesn’t know you anymore.  Everything has to be rebuilt. 

From a parents point of view, mine at least, what that meant was holding my tongue about many things and letting many things happen under my watch that I did not like or want happening in my home.  This was because I did not want confrontation with my kid.  What might have been a normal child/parent spat could easily been turned into a kid running away from a situation where she was safe at least and getting in over her head out in the world. 

I did not want her boyfriends sleeping over.  I did not like that she kept a knife hidden in her boot.  I did not like it when she pulled a knife when a “boyfriend” and were fighting.  I did not like her foul language, nor her lack of participation within the family.  She sat in her room a lot.  She helped some.  But, mostly she was detached, arrogant, very opinionated.  She forgot who the top dog of the house was, and it was not her.  I never said any of this to her. 
I never wanted the relationship to run afoul.  I had my kid back after six year of hell not knowing where she was or if she was ok, hell, didn’t even know all the time if she was alive. 
It was one of the hardest times of my life.  Why would I want to judge her, make her feel bad about anything, or even try to correct her.  Because I could see the potential loss on the other side of the fence and I had no reason to want to go there.  

 Most kids lie, manipulate, and do other stuff at times.  The problem is that most the time same said kids outgrow it.   I really don’t give a damn what they do outside of my sight and hearing.  Natural consequences will eventually come heaping down upon a mean, angry, or manipulative person.  In one way or another one always pays the piper.  Karma can be a real bitch.

One of my kids, borrowed $600 from a friend.  Not even a boyfriend. Has made no attempt to pay it back.  I am fairly sure she has lost him as a friend.  As far as I could tell he was a better friend to her than her boyfriend was.  I talked to her gently, suggested even if she paid a little bit consistently every so often, it would be better than nothing.  I don’t think she has any intention of it.  It is hard to see this and realize that children I raised have no real sense of ethics or even common decency.  That was a huge loan for a 19/20 year old to make. He deserved much better treatment than he got from her.  Even a thank you card would have showed some class!!!

All I really want to do is love them.  I don’t want to see, and I do not want to know.  They are all adults now.  I’ve done my best.  The best thing I could do for myself at this point is to move far, far, far away.  The point is I am not sure I like my kids enough to even have a mother/kid relationship with them anymore.  It all is incredibly painful. Family can be who we choose it to be.  Two of them have divorced me.  I probably should just divorce them all.  We are not compatible in the least. I don’t want any of them taking care of me in my old age.  I want loving people around me who are supportive.  I don’t want any strings attached like–if I do something immoral or unethical, mom, you have to look away and never say a word to anyone, EVER.  That is the unspoken command. 

So, I am making it really clear, within my purview, I just do not want to see it or hear it.  All I want from my kids is to love them, and for them to love me.  I don’t think that I could really be anymore clear.  

My youngest can’t keep her space clean to save her life.  It gets dangerous, in my view.  She’s at home again.  I told her the other day, I’d give her back her bedroom if she could keep her space clean.  Not that I am expecting a whole lot, but better than it is.  As it stands she is now living in an old RV that we bought to refurbish for us, the parents–for alone time.  

This old RV has had the floors replaced, linoleum and carpet put down.  New bed.  New curtains that I made myself.  Customized for he and I.  Packed with stuff for the family.  There is no room for our stuff in there anymore.  She doesn’t like my curtains.  But, she won’t keep it clean either.  We have had this discussion many times over the years, and over the years its generally the same excuse, “I’m just so busy, I have no time…”   It’s not her property, and she has no time. I want to love her unconditionally – but she’s not keeping my space clean.  Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t do much around here.  She was told to have a dog here she’d have to help maintain the yard—meaning help with crap duty.  I’ve told her it was “her turn” once….and she’s done it once.  The kids take what they want.  They don’t seem to understand that they are using other people’s private energies and resources.  And no, parents were not put on Earth to use and abuse.  And then toss away when child disapproves of a parents challenged opinions about them.   Especially when the opinions are about choices that they made within the sight of their parents, or on their parents property, or with their parents property.  

My son has actually entered upon a civilized state in his life.  It still kind of cracks me up when he thinks that I am so stupid that he will pay me back a few bucks he owes me and then ask me to run to the store and get him a mop with my money like he’s doing me some big favor.  I can laugh about it because he’s had so many issues, been down a hard road, suffers with mental illness, and a developmental delay.  He’s done all the drugs on Earth I think.  Basically over dosed his mother – purposely.  Tried to overdose his little sister.  He’s been to jail a few times.  Other half and I were “missing” for a few days.  He grabbed the keys to the jeep and asked a friend with a license to drive it to help search for us.  Friend abused said Jeep which was a major love of other half’s life.  Totaled out the Jeep. $1800 later, it was still not fixed and usable.  Said Jeep is gone.  Other half will probably never forgive or forget.  But, his stance has softened some.  My son hasn’t done a lot that I’m proud of.  But, as other half has seen, he’s done a 180, and I feel that perhaps love can overcome all.  Time of course will tell.  But, of the four, these two above mentioned kids (2 of 4) hold the most promise.  They are the (youngest &) kindest kids that I have.  That is not saying much, I know.  

Back to the missing part…. for a moment:  Friend who tore up the Jeep tried to convince son that his parents were indeed dead and that he needed to just get over it already.  Oh by the way, open up the gun safe.  I want those guns.  See for some reason, even the kids’ friends think they can walk all over us.  

And that is not to say that the kids don’t try to over run each other.  During the “missing” episode, son tried to maneuver a friend in to ‘rent’ –basically take over the house payments in order to guarantee himself a roof over his head.  Which left one minor child out in the cold.  Oldest decided, I guess, that they would both stay in the house and pay her rent.  Which I find incredible considering we’d never talked about what us parents wanted done in the house in more recent times at least.  She’d been diagnosed with MS.  It had been decided she’d have no responsibility for ANYTHING once we were gone.  Nothing.  Apparently she tried to convince the younger siblings that she was the only heir to the other half (the only “LEGAL” heir)–as I understand it. She got everything.  Ho ho ho.  She gets nothing at this point.  Neither of the two oldest get anything more than a dollar, so that we can acknowledge their legal presence and acknowledge no premise of a gift or legacy.  When you are treated like shit, you have a tendency to want to give your stuff to a non-profit who will sell it and do some good with the money.   Current plan.  

The two oldest, just think, I guess that they think they are pretty smart.  I of course, never had a clue that when I asked them to clean the bathroom for me that they did not.  They stuffed a bunch of stuff and called it clean.  I said, “Thank you” anyway.  I just want to love them.  One of them manipulated us (by lying to us) into letting a boyfriend stay for a bit.  Turned out he was a registered sex offender and he was around my two minor children.  Said child has no clue how lucky she is that we even had a thing to do with her after that.  For her to tell me that I should cut my son loose was not only hard nosed, and hard hearted, it was severely hypocritical.  We all make mistakes.  None of us, if we are humans, living on Earth — are angels. 

All I want is to love them, and for them to love me.  I and their (adoptive) father have over looked a lot over the years.  A lot of hurt gets caused by a mouth that is so loose with anger and condemnation.  Lack of respect.. Under normal circumstances it’s all good as long as they get what they want.  There are no discussions about anything–they demand, we are to fall in with the request.  I’m sorry that is just not how families work.  Discussion is the main format for getting what one wants.  But the discussion has to be calm, respectful, non-threatening, non-manipulative to the best of your humanly ability.    At least one of my children is not capable of that, not with me at least. 

Last communication from her basically said: “watch what you say, or I’ll cut you off forever.”
The truth is, that I told her the truth, and she called me a liar and then cut me off.  That was no threat she threw at me.  It was a promise.  A foreshadowing of what her intended next behavior was going to be.  It did not matter what I would have said.  I could have said, “I love you” and she would have still cut me off.  Over the years, I have told many people that she is cold, calculating and cut throat.  I meant every word. People have known for years that I was scared of her.  She did not know it.  But, that does not mean it wasn’t the truth.  She is a person that I NEVER want to have a face to face confrontation with.  I consider her a physical danger to myself and anyone else she is angry with.  It does not help that at age 15/16 the kid came up behind me and hit me in the middle of the back as hard as she could.  She literally knocked the breath out of me.  I never understood why. It has never been explained.  She was definitely old enough, whatever her age to know better.  I pretty much ignored it.  But that doesn’t mean I did not feel it, and that there were no consequences.  The consequences have been alive and well all these years.  I have watched my tongue.  I have worked over time to not say a word that went against hers.  I avoided any sort of confrontation like the plague.  She bought books for my youngest about Wicca.  Did I approve?  No, not in the least.  I took them quietly and put them away.  Recently they were disposed of.  I never, EVER gave them to youngest, nor did I speak of them to her.  Life is confusing enough—she didn’t need to study witchcraft. 

I have watched them all grow up.  Have been greatly disappointed actually.  When is it ever ok to tell a child that they can abuse their biological parent, but not another adult in the family?  It is only ok when you really want to stir the pot, poison the well…the goal I guess, create more havoc, keep people from seeing the truth by distracting them with other issues.  I don’t know, it’s all just a guess.  I have a child who could not tell the truth if she wanted to.  She takes a lot after a paternal grandmother.  I think she probably has an undiagnosed mental health issue.  Like her father, who does not believe there is a such thing as mental illness, she’d rather not see a therapist or psychologist because “I like who I am.”  Liking yourself can be an issue to treat or not treat, but it doesn’t have to be the reason for the therapy at all.  It can be totally 1000% beside the point.  But that this is how she cut me off-she did not want to hear about it. So, I shut up. 

How does one really like oneself when they know they are a liar?  When they know they can be violent?  When they must know how angry they really are?  When they know they manipulate other people to get what they want?  When they use people around them so much, that the people end up so angry that they are sorry they ever lent a hand at all to the kid?  When she lived with us, she agreed to pay her part of the electric bill.  She then ordered a lot of electronics.  A brand new laptop for one.  The amount of the electric bill went unpaid and she basically lived off our resources for free until she got a job.  When she did get a job after a few paychecks she was asked for some money.  She snapped at her father, “you’ll get it when I get it.”  The choices SHE made created the issue. But, he is the one that got his feelings hurt.  I will tell you, he does not forget.  He really doesn’t forgive.  And paying for gas money to get yourself to the job in your mom’s vehicle isn’t doing your mom or dad any favors.  It’s just what you are supposed to do.  None of what was done made the kid look any better in “daddy’s” eyes.  

And I live with this stuff.  I literally stuff the stuff.  Because all I ever wanted to do was love my kids.  I do not want to be negative.  I do not want to point out my misgivings and their bad points.   I want to be loving, supportive, a cheer leader of sorts.  Mom’s can be really good at that, and having come to that conclusion helped me to let go and let them grow up and leave without much contention. 

I am a really good person who has worked over time to treat others with kindness and generosity..  I have worked hard for a living, kept up with men.  Put blisters on my feet walking around a mall, keeping things spotless so that I could hold the job and feed my kids, pay the rent, put gas in the car so that I could go out and do it all again the next day.  I’ve held up to three jobs at a time.  I did this all with a heart condition.  I ran all over myself for those kids because I loved them and wanted to do my best for them.  

As a child I was abused and walked all over by my father.

As a young married woman I was abused and walked all over by my first husband and then a “boyfriend” after that.  Not that in reality, I actually considered him a boyfriend very long. He gave the kids the example of being very manipulative, a liar, and so on.  I could not get rid of him soon enough, but he held on and continued to try to manipulate the situation to stay.  It became a grand power struggle.   

Now, my kids have watched all the examples and have decided that I can tow the line with them.  The message I get from them is that they get  do as they please, including to lie, and manipulate and all I have to do is look away. 

Really? That is what I want to do!  But ethically, I can not when ANY child is involved. My kids know this by heart.

I have to let them create a whole new pig sty on my property, if I say a word, they will leave because I am the one who mean.  Sneak out in the middle of the night in tears as if they were the victim.  When all I did was ask said kid to clean up her room.  She was 18/19 at the time.  Rephrase: I’ve been asking you for years to keep your space clean.  You are old enough to do this.  Your room is a fire hazard and is not safe (literally)–not to mention it would draw in rodents.  Clean it or get out.   That was the reality.  She actually choose to leave, in tears, the victim.   Really??!!  

The price I pay is that the kids think they have the power to cut me off, and I will fall to.  What they do not know is that mom has a limit.  The hurt has been great enough, that someday, when all ducks are in a row, they will no longer have to give mom or dad so much as a thought.  They will have no address, no phone number, no clue.  And mom will be so happy to not have to look away, or be disappointed, unloved, used, manipulated and lied to. (or lied about). Sounds like a pretty good trade off to me!

Fool me into letting a sex offender to stay in my home and expect absolutely no hard feelings or consequences?  

I have apologized for their terrible childhoods at least a thousand times over the years.  Each apology was totally sincere.  I really had no clue just how dysfunctional my family was.  In fact, I am still learning about how dysfunctional it was/is.  There really is nothing more for me to do for them.  

Said kids have no right to complain about a damn thing.  They have been loved, supported, and cheered on.  Seems to me they need to look and see just who the real cunts are.  

Posted in Children's Rights, Rights, Sexual Assault, Women's Rights | Leave a comment

Free/Cheap Replacements for Microsoft Office

Three photos 'stitched' together.

Outside of Sisters, Oregon

A friend asked me about a free/cheap replacement for Microsoft Office (Word Processor) replacement. Just sharing what I wrote back to him in case anyone else needs the information:

There are two really good Microsoft Office replacements—
What I mean by really good, is that they are best considering they are free. They have matured a lot, but you will find some stuff missing compared to Microsoft.
Myself, I always end up reverting to MS.
Here is one, it is called Open Office: https://www.openoffice.org/
 
 
Open Office and this one, Libre Office, are the two I go back to most often. I can say all the same things about Libre Office as I do about Open OFFICE. https://www.libreoffice.org/download/download/
 
 
Another open source one. Its been a long time since I’ve looked at it. I am installing it now. Not sure how it is, but like all open source it’s programmed by volunteers. And it’s free to everyone: https://calligra.org/download/
 
 

Here is one I have never heard of that looks good, and according to a website I trust, they say it’s good: https://www.freeoffice.com/en/

 
  I am downloading it now to see if it is ok. They also have a free PDF editor, I’m even more interested in that. I’ve been paying for one!! BTW, this one looks a lot like Microsoft version of a word processor so maybe the learning curve would not be so bad??
 
 

Oh, believe it or not Microsoft does have a free version of Word. It’s stripped down. But it is usable. I’ve had to use it at times. You will find that at www.office.com

 

 

With your Gmail account you have a whole FREE suite of office applications available. Basically put ‘Google Docs’ into a search engine and wait for the links to come up. Click on “Google Docs” and start your document. It will be a a bit confusing at first. But, it does a pretty good job. I use it mostly for college work and I used it a lot more for the Historical Society. The good news is with your Gmail account you also have 15 free gigabytes of free storage on their “cloud’ for keeping documents safe. You have this stuff available to you already with your email account.

About the photo:

  1. You can click on it to make it larger!
    2.  It is actually three photos ‘stitched’ together to make one huge one.
    3. Nope, I don’t know the owners of the property, nor was it a paid shot.
    4. Taken in 2016 while on the way home from a camping trip.  We had tons of fun.
    I absolutely LOVED it.  It was sooo needed at the time.  
    5. Taken just south of Sisters, Oregon while on our way to Hwy. 20 so we could go over the McKenzie Pass.  
    6.  Please don’t steal, I actually make my spending money by selling these things.
    Copyright 2016, Peggy A Rowe-Snyder
Posted in Just Jabber, Links, Pacific Northwest, PC Support, Software | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Not all Entitled, Racist Pigs are Policemen

An old pic of me, around 22 yrs. old.

An old pic of me, around 22 yrs. old. Ran me through a Photoshop filter, years ago.  Looking entirely too much like my daddy.  Photo taken @ Berry’s Drug Store in New Richmond, Clermont, Ohio.

I think I figured out why I have been avoiding the news like the plague. Yesterday it hit me. I was good until the camera’s zoomed in on the lines of police, and all of them holding those black night sticks. Today the flash backs have started… yesterday it was tears. I read recently to just accept the emotion and let it “wash over” me. See it for what it is something temporary. So, that is what I am trying to do. Same said article said it’s actually a good sign. It’s kind of like the beginning of the end-healing that is. It is most definitely something I do not recall sharing with anyone. I have a few of those. Where the violence of it is so bad (in my mind) that why would anyone want to hear it. No, I’ve never been beaten by a cop. I’m a woman who has an ex husband who liked to force many types of items. If you can imagine the worst, minus the horrid beating you can imagine… then you have probably imagined it close to correctly. He was a security guard for a time. Took a special class in using the weapon–something obviously I still see as a tool of torment. Believe me, I do see it that way to this day. Its not like I ended up black and blue—well, not in all the obvious places anyhow. It is what it did to my heart, my soul, and willingness to confront nearly anything. I’ll fight to the death for my kids–but its taken me years and years to fight for myself. I mean really fight–not just lip service or a faux toughness so well known on my paternal side of the family. One of the last things that my last therapist said to me that still at my age, I avoid conflict at almost any cost. Can it be any wonder? I did not go out of my way to look for these situations. I wandered into them as a young woman, or in this case a teenager. I married a monster is what I did–one that even my mother said reminded her of my father at the time. But, how does a teenager put that into perspective, especially when things are feeling so good in the moment? So, the bottom line is that I married that which I was familiar with. With age and experience one can see it. It evolved into one mess on top of another.

“Je Maintiendra”
The racist, entitled, pig who was never a police officer-but was very violent in terms of what he thought he could get away with. (abt. 21 &20 yrs. old)


A wee bit of a change of subject. Black lives certainly do matter. That is beyond any reasonable demand for a person who is reasonable. Of course they matter. I would not take that fact away from a one of them. They do have 400 years of history behind them (at least!) that still plays in their life on a day to day basis. They deserve a much better deal than what has been handed to them by the white culture, patriarchy, & government. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Myself & oldest (mid 30’s now). By this time in my life I had lived through so many insertions of alien items into my body including homemade “toys”–that for really the rest of our relationship, I did not want the man touching me. It is truly a miracle I managed to stay married as long as I did. I am about 23/24 years old here.  San Francisco, CA ca. 1985ish.

But, for far more than 400 hundred years women have been abused and mistreated by men. The biggest offenders seem to be white men, I could be wrong. The fact, that someone only one year older than I was at that time was capable of such heinous behavior just goes to show what has been handed down from generation to generation. He had to pick it up from somewhere right? The mentality? Nothing he ever did was or even could have been hinted at as being something needed for survival or any other good purpose. It was all about power, violence–keeping someone in their place mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. It worked-I stayed married to him for nearly 16 years. When I finally realized the example I was setting for the kids–that is when I left. He did his damndest to stop it too. Keeping me up all night until I agreed to do things his way. Reminding me that I had some kind of thought deficient and could not see repercussions or consequences of my behavior on my own. Giving me stupid choices, actually believing that I’d pick the worst of them. How many of you were given this option when leaving your spouse: “You can have the kids and everything it takes to make them a home, or you can have the computer.” Even then, I looked at him and asked him what kind of idiot he thought I was. If he was willing to treat me like that, then in what horrible ways was he actually willing to hurt his children? If I could have expressed any of this in court papers at the time, I’d probably been given sole custody, if, I was believed. And for the most part I wasn’t. I wasn’t really believed by the courts until the end of the ordeal when he was stupid enough to speak his mind to a social worker after I gave Wesley up to the “system” to get him the mental health help he needed. She did not tell me everything he said.. just a little bit. She shook her head and said he was unbelievable, she looked at me, “How did you stay married to him for that long?” I believed marriage was scared and forever. I over heard a conversation between adults as a child that inferred that women/wives had a “duty” (which at this point really proves men feeling quite entitled). That along with active behavior on his part to make sure that I felt small and uncapable… that my feelings and dreams were not even close to acceptable or even apart of reality. That is how I stayed married that long. That night stick of his… it was part of a long, long horribly painful journey that I am fairly sure I will never be able to put in its place. Sad thing is…my story is no where near close to the worst out there, not over time, not over generations, not even in modern days. He damn near killed me, and if I had died, it would have been by my own hand. It came that close in the end. This is why — in my mind, though, I would never for a moment take away one second from the BLM movement, but , I do have to say that all lives matter. These entitled, racist pigs, regardless of color of skin (No where near all of them police) need to be brought under control. Too many people are hurt, too many are dying.

Posted in Depression, Elitism, Estrangement, History, Memories, Mental Illnesses, Patriarchy, Personal, Politics, PTSD, Racism, Rights, Sexual Assault, White Supremacy, Women's Rights | Leave a comment

The Grief of a Mother, and the People.

Not that I don’t understand where they are coming from. These people are angry, and I am too. I read something this morning that “white mamma’s” need to share the burden of grieve with the “black mamma’s”. I absolutely can not imagine loosing a child at any age and no matter the circumstances. Becoming a mother has taught me so much about unconditional love. Any mother who loves their kids would fight for their kids. I’ve done it over and over and over again. George Floyd was calling for his mother, and that is absolutely HEARTBREAKING. When Wesley basically over dosed me on that “honey butter” crap, at one point, it was so bad, and I was so scared that I was calling for my mother. I have 100% empathy for Mr. Floyd. I also have 100% empathy for his mother if she had to witness it, or hear it. I can’t imagine the heart break. I’ve seen that some people are already trying to villainize Mr. Floyd. That is sickening. Even if he was a small time petty thief, he did not deserve to die for that. And honestly, those three other officers who stood by and watched this, and then did not attempt a revive the man need to be charged with whatever applies: neglect of human life. or something. They could have brought him back. This makes a whole group of people feel as if they are literally fighting for their very lives. Such blatant disrespect for life. Sickening. As a mother though, yes, I do share in the grief.

#EVERYLIFEMATTERS!

Just saying…

Posted in ACEs, Fallacies, History, Mental Illnesses, Patriarchy, Political Crap, Racism, White Supremacy | Leave a comment