I'm not sure what to call it, this period after and between.It's quieter, more still, than the inside of a Category 7 hurricane.
Yes, yes, I know. Hurricanes are only ranked to Cat-5, but this is even quieter than an eye inside of that. According to Wikipedia, the eye of a hurricane is relatively quiet - and that's how this feels, this time after her passing and... whatever will come next.
For the two weeks immediately following Charlotte's demise, between work and home, I was too busy to really think or feel. In the past week, though, things at home have quieted a bit. Work is still crazed and perhaps that's the issue, but then again... I'm not sure.
For a while, a period of a couple of days in the past seven, I felt empty, like I had nothing inside - no feeling, no nothing.
Charlotte had depression - constant unhappiness or at least dissatisfaction with Life. Her expression gave it away - hand to forehead when she sat in her chair. Even while she ate her drooping eyelids and lips gave a picture of her unhappiness. I can visualize her now, looking miserable. She was agoraphobic, hated leaving the house and disliked having people she didn't know around her.
I haven't felt like that, but the empty feeling, the non-feeling, made me wonder for a time if her spirit had somehow taken control of mine. It was... quiet. Too quiet for me because calm is normal, quiet and disinterested is not. I'm a doer - always wanting to have hands and mind busy even while my eyes are watching something else (hockey and baseball right now) - so the lack of interest in anything had me worried.
For three weeks I haven't wanted to write. I haven't wanted to do anything on the computer, at all, and that is not like me. In the end, I made myself, using force and pressure, to write the post about her passing. Then I wanted to write nothing again. None of my stories, none of the posts here, nothing, and it was worrying.
Today, though, for the first time in several weeks, I feel compelled to write - to say something and give voice to thoughts. Is this the beginning? A re-genesis or re-birth of my writing and interest in creating scenes and characters and developing stories in which I can live for a time? I don't know.
I do know that tomorrow is going to be a reversion to the past few weeks. We still have the garage to go through and clear out, and then the house will be done. I'm pretending the laundry room isn't there but that's a simple matter of Windex, vacuum and a thirty minute window of time.
We'll see. For now, for this moment, this is enough.
I hope to be back. We'll see.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Friday, May 20, 2016
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
There's Equality & Then There's...
I've got my ear plugs ready and waiting. I suspect that in a couple of weeks or less, the screeches from a large part of the female population, mostly leftists, are going to become painfully loud.
Already, a number of go-along-to-get-along voices on the right are warning Trump to 'tone it down' or 'dial it back'. Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for those of us who don't get upset when he says 'boo', it ain't gonna happen. Trump is going to be Trump and that's why I'll vote for him. Twice if I could.
The deal is, I don't want what the women who constantly rant about 'equality' want in our next president. I want a man with a set leading this country, not a spineless wuss who is likeable.
I have no doubt that these same women do not expect or want Hilliary to be polite and sincere and nice to Trump. You can wager that Hilliary is going to come out and play that woman card for all it's worth, until it's all worn out, and Trump is going to meet her right there, in the middle. She is going to be nasty and unpleasant, she is going to pull out all the stops and do what she's always done when confronted by an adversary. As my hubby would say, and as I agree with him having paid attention to her and her antics for the past twenty-five years or so, she is going to 'bitch out' and it is not going to be pleasant to see.
Based on her approach, Trump is not going to sit back, hold the door and be a 'gentleman'. Trump is going to treat Hilliary exactly as he would treat a male opponent in this upcoming race. It doesn't get more equal than that so all I can and will say to the women who take umbrage at his manner of expression, brace yourselves. It's going to get a whole lot worse than it's been. If you want equality, you are going to get it. In spades and, when it comes, don't you dare complain about it. It's what you've said you want so suck it up and get over it.
You see, my attitude toward him and his rhetoric is simple: I am not dating him. My daughter is not dating him. Neither of us are living with him. He is not someone I cook for, clean for, do laundry for. I don't go home to him at the end of the day, and it's a good thing I don't because I don't like a lot of what he says or the manner in which he says it. Therefore, because I have that arm's length relationship, I do not have to like him.
In my view, that's the difference between 'women' and 'girls'.
Women recognize that we don't have to love or admire the male, that we can take his verbal bullying and coarse actions. We can let it pass over us because we're bigger than the words.
Girls don't get that. They get knickerknotted at the first 'mean' or unpleasant thing someone says - as if it's a personal assault. As if they're that important.
Now, with that said, the flip side is what I do like about him. He has the courage of his convictions. When he thinks he's right, he's ready, willing and able to drive a stake into the ground and say, "here". If he thinks he's right, he's not going to back down and bow to the popular sway of the masses - he will do what he thinks is right. He will also, however (and this is BIG), listen to his advisers. He's done it in his business, which is why his primary business is as successful as it is, and I have every confidence he will when it comes to the presidency. It's already showing in how he's pivoting in this election.
He's no longer using the same inflammatory rhetoric he was a couple of months ago. He's begun making reasoned speeches, using the ever-popular teleprompters so he's sure to stay on message. He's already stated that he wants someone with political cred to be his VP - and that is a very smart move.
When people say that Trump "isn't nice" it annoys me to no end because we are not voting for Prom King in this election. This is not supposed to be a popularity contest. We are not voting for Nicest Dude or Cleanest Mouth or Most Polite in Company. We are voting for a leader - someone who is going to take his place on the world stage, nominally at the head of the table. We do not need a "nice guy" who's going to wring his hands and waffle at every bad turn. We need someone decisive, someone who is going to put our interests first, for a change. We need someone with the stones to go toe-to-toe with the bad actors on this planet and out-bully them - not back down and cower in a corner someplace. Although I'm not entirely sure the Oval Office has corners...
All I hope is that the first wave of cacophony from the scorched females in this country won't deafen me at the outset, that I'll have time to get the earplugs in place before the second caterwaul.
Now - have a lovely and quiet day.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter:
Already, a number of go-along-to-get-along voices on the right are warning Trump to 'tone it down' or 'dial it back'. Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for those of us who don't get upset when he says 'boo', it ain't gonna happen. Trump is going to be Trump and that's why I'll vote for him. Twice if I could.
The deal is, I don't want what the women who constantly rant about 'equality' want in our next president. I want a man with a set leading this country, not a spineless wuss who is likeable.
I have no doubt that these same women do not expect or want Hilliary to be polite and sincere and nice to Trump. You can wager that Hilliary is going to come out and play that woman card for all it's worth, until it's all worn out, and Trump is going to meet her right there, in the middle. She is going to be nasty and unpleasant, she is going to pull out all the stops and do what she's always done when confronted by an adversary. As my hubby would say, and as I agree with him having paid attention to her and her antics for the past twenty-five years or so, she is going to 'bitch out' and it is not going to be pleasant to see.
Based on her approach, Trump is not going to sit back, hold the door and be a 'gentleman'. Trump is going to treat Hilliary exactly as he would treat a male opponent in this upcoming race. It doesn't get more equal than that so all I can and will say to the women who take umbrage at his manner of expression, brace yourselves. It's going to get a whole lot worse than it's been. If you want equality, you are going to get it. In spades and, when it comes, don't you dare complain about it. It's what you've said you want so suck it up and get over it.
You see, my attitude toward him and his rhetoric is simple: I am not dating him. My daughter is not dating him. Neither of us are living with him. He is not someone I cook for, clean for, do laundry for. I don't go home to him at the end of the day, and it's a good thing I don't because I don't like a lot of what he says or the manner in which he says it. Therefore, because I have that arm's length relationship, I do not have to like him.
In my view, that's the difference between 'women' and 'girls'.
Women recognize that we don't have to love or admire the male, that we can take his verbal bullying and coarse actions. We can let it pass over us because we're bigger than the words.
Girls don't get that. They get knickerknotted at the first 'mean' or unpleasant thing someone says - as if it's a personal assault. As if they're that important.
Now, with that said, the flip side is what I do like about him. He has the courage of his convictions. When he thinks he's right, he's ready, willing and able to drive a stake into the ground and say, "here". If he thinks he's right, he's not going to back down and bow to the popular sway of the masses - he will do what he thinks is right. He will also, however (and this is BIG), listen to his advisers. He's done it in his business, which is why his primary business is as successful as it is, and I have every confidence he will when it comes to the presidency. It's already showing in how he's pivoting in this election.
He's no longer using the same inflammatory rhetoric he was a couple of months ago. He's begun making reasoned speeches, using the ever-popular teleprompters so he's sure to stay on message. He's already stated that he wants someone with political cred to be his VP - and that is a very smart move.
When people say that Trump "isn't nice" it annoys me to no end because we are not voting for Prom King in this election. This is not supposed to be a popularity contest. We are not voting for Nicest Dude or Cleanest Mouth or Most Polite in Company. We are voting for a leader - someone who is going to take his place on the world stage, nominally at the head of the table. We do not need a "nice guy" who's going to wring his hands and waffle at every bad turn. We need someone decisive, someone who is going to put our interests first, for a change. We need someone with the stones to go toe-to-toe with the bad actors on this planet and out-bully them - not back down and cower in a corner someplace. Although I'm not entirely sure the Oval Office has corners...
All I hope is that the first wave of cacophony from the scorched females in this country won't deafen me at the outset, that I'll have time to get the earplugs in place before the second caterwaul.
Now - have a lovely and quiet day.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter:
Monday, May 9, 2016
The Loneliest Journey
It's one we all face, and one we will all accomplish by ourselves - no company even if they're holding our hand. It's intensely personal, unique, and must be done by ourselves, inside our deepest places.
MIL passed last Thursday morning - alone as we all are at that time, even when surrounded by loved ones, friends, family or caregivers. She went peacefully after being ill for a long time. We had a chance to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you", the closing things we all wish to say but sometimes don't get the chance to express. There were "I'm sorry" statements, too, which is as it should be since none of us are perfect and all of us trip over another's feelings from time-to-time.
Three times I've been through this immediately, and each has been different, unique.
First with my Dad, whose hand I held until he made it clear he wanted to be left to finish by himself. He was surrounded by family: my mom, his wife of just three weeks shy of fifty years, two daughters, grandchildren and a future son-in-law and a then daughter-in-law. He fought until he couldn't any more, but he was comfortable and assured by each of us, 'it's okay, you can let go'.
The second time was with my father-in-law, who died in the arms of my MIL of a massive heart attack - dead almost before he hit the floor. No one was there but the two of them. By the time I got there the EMTs had left, the Sheriff's deputies were still there, milling around while forensics made sure nothing unusual had happened. MIL was deeply shocked - pale-faced and watching in numb horror while they did what they had to.
When it was all over, I got her to bed and set to working out my frustration with the situation by scrubbing their house.
The third time was last Thursday.
For months, she couldn't get up on her own, walk on her own. Hubby waited on her, literally, hand and foot. Always at her beck and call, up at all hours of the night to check on her, help her, change her, wash her, feed her. Over time she lost interest. First the radio, then the television. Her appetite changed until she was barely eating and had to be hand fed. Finally, she stopped eating and resisted drinking.
In the end she slipped away peacefully, alone while I was on my way back from work where I had gone to pick up some things to do if the wait was longer than a few hours, and while hubby was outside, hanging laundry on the line. He came in and found her, then called me.
The requirements, the small necessary ceremonies of removal, the quiet moments while we absorbed the sudden change in our lives. Phone calls and e-mails to family and friends, closing those doors on a life. That led into the frenetic, almost manic release of anger and fear and grief.
For the past four days, from almost as soon as the funeral home took her body away until yesterday afternoon we cleaned. First, the living room that had been her bedroom for the past four years, then spreading out from there. The downstairs of our house hasn't been this clean since before we moved in, and there's still the upstairs to do. But that's for next weekend.
A chance to work out the anger and fear, a chance to purge ourselves of things she had brought that we never wanted. Along the way we discovered things we didn't even know we had - glassware and some appliances. Things were donated, others were tossed, none will be missed because they were never "ours". They belonged to Charlotte.
There, her name: Charlotte. Not MIL anymore since she has achieved the anonymity of death.
There is no true grieving for me. We weren't close. We lived together, ate meals together, spoke together for the better part of ten years, more than thirty-five as part of an in-law family, but we never bonded, even though we shared a house.
She was too private, too closed-in to let me get to know her inner-self. Conversation was question and answer - she asking and taking while I answered and gave. There was no back-and-forth, no meeting of the minds or expressions of self. After a time, I gave up, settling for doing for her as much as I could, as much as she would allow.
Hubby has mixed feelings. Sadness that released in wild bouts of grief before the fact, when he saw and knew what was coming. More grief and shock after she was gone. Then came a relief, a knowing she wasn't needing his help any more, that she is more comfortable now than she was just a few days ago. No more pain, no more blindness, no more waiting for what we all knew was coming.
Friday we visited the funeral home, another ceremony of signing off on her last wishes - a private ripple that won't include anyone not required. I don't even know what she wanted, except for cremation and not being on the shelf next to her hubby's box. Which we still need to figure out what to do with.
There were periods of quiet, peaceful moments, too. Times for hubby and me to sit and speak, to look around and sigh.
The medical equipment was picked up. Her bed and other furniture are in the garage until we decide what to do with them. More doors closing on what was.
We have our house back. It no longer contains all the things - big and small - that she "had" to have around her when she moved in. For ten years it looked like a Victorian parlour - overcrowded and cluttered. Now, for a change, we can decide for ourselves how we want things to be.
One of the first things we did was to restart the clocks - the grandfather clocks (two of them - one was hers and her husbands, one is ours), the pendulum clocks that give our house its heartbeat but that had been stilled because it was too loud at night for her to sleep. It's back, ticking and tocking, giving life to rooms that had been too still since Thursday morning.
For myself, I feel quiet, accepting. I think of Charlotte as a young woman, dancing, light and free of all that weighed her down on Earth. I wish that for her because it's her due.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
MIL passed last Thursday morning - alone as we all are at that time, even when surrounded by loved ones, friends, family or caregivers. She went peacefully after being ill for a long time. We had a chance to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you", the closing things we all wish to say but sometimes don't get the chance to express. There were "I'm sorry" statements, too, which is as it should be since none of us are perfect and all of us trip over another's feelings from time-to-time.
Three times I've been through this immediately, and each has been different, unique.
First with my Dad, whose hand I held until he made it clear he wanted to be left to finish by himself. He was surrounded by family: my mom, his wife of just three weeks shy of fifty years, two daughters, grandchildren and a future son-in-law and a then daughter-in-law. He fought until he couldn't any more, but he was comfortable and assured by each of us, 'it's okay, you can let go'.
The second time was with my father-in-law, who died in the arms of my MIL of a massive heart attack - dead almost before he hit the floor. No one was there but the two of them. By the time I got there the EMTs had left, the Sheriff's deputies were still there, milling around while forensics made sure nothing unusual had happened. MIL was deeply shocked - pale-faced and watching in numb horror while they did what they had to.
When it was all over, I got her to bed and set to working out my frustration with the situation by scrubbing their house.
The third time was last Thursday.
For months, she couldn't get up on her own, walk on her own. Hubby waited on her, literally, hand and foot. Always at her beck and call, up at all hours of the night to check on her, help her, change her, wash her, feed her. Over time she lost interest. First the radio, then the television. Her appetite changed until she was barely eating and had to be hand fed. Finally, she stopped eating and resisted drinking.
In the end she slipped away peacefully, alone while I was on my way back from work where I had gone to pick up some things to do if the wait was longer than a few hours, and while hubby was outside, hanging laundry on the line. He came in and found her, then called me.
The requirements, the small necessary ceremonies of removal, the quiet moments while we absorbed the sudden change in our lives. Phone calls and e-mails to family and friends, closing those doors on a life. That led into the frenetic, almost manic release of anger and fear and grief.
For the past four days, from almost as soon as the funeral home took her body away until yesterday afternoon we cleaned. First, the living room that had been her bedroom for the past four years, then spreading out from there. The downstairs of our house hasn't been this clean since before we moved in, and there's still the upstairs to do. But that's for next weekend.
A chance to work out the anger and fear, a chance to purge ourselves of things she had brought that we never wanted. Along the way we discovered things we didn't even know we had - glassware and some appliances. Things were donated, others were tossed, none will be missed because they were never "ours". They belonged to Charlotte.
There, her name: Charlotte. Not MIL anymore since she has achieved the anonymity of death.
There is no true grieving for me. We weren't close. We lived together, ate meals together, spoke together for the better part of ten years, more than thirty-five as part of an in-law family, but we never bonded, even though we shared a house.
She was too private, too closed-in to let me get to know her inner-self. Conversation was question and answer - she asking and taking while I answered and gave. There was no back-and-forth, no meeting of the minds or expressions of self. After a time, I gave up, settling for doing for her as much as I could, as much as she would allow.
Hubby has mixed feelings. Sadness that released in wild bouts of grief before the fact, when he saw and knew what was coming. More grief and shock after she was gone. Then came a relief, a knowing she wasn't needing his help any more, that she is more comfortable now than she was just a few days ago. No more pain, no more blindness, no more waiting for what we all knew was coming.
Friday we visited the funeral home, another ceremony of signing off on her last wishes - a private ripple that won't include anyone not required. I don't even know what she wanted, except for cremation and not being on the shelf next to her hubby's box. Which we still need to figure out what to do with.
There were periods of quiet, peaceful moments, too. Times for hubby and me to sit and speak, to look around and sigh.
The medical equipment was picked up. Her bed and other furniture are in the garage until we decide what to do with them. More doors closing on what was.
We have our house back. It no longer contains all the things - big and small - that she "had" to have around her when she moved in. For ten years it looked like a Victorian parlour - overcrowded and cluttered. Now, for a change, we can decide for ourselves how we want things to be.
One of the first things we did was to restart the clocks - the grandfather clocks (two of them - one was hers and her husbands, one is ours), the pendulum clocks that give our house its heartbeat but that had been stilled because it was too loud at night for her to sleep. It's back, ticking and tocking, giving life to rooms that had been too still since Thursday morning.
For myself, I feel quiet, accepting. I think of Charlotte as a young woman, dancing, light and free of all that weighed her down on Earth. I wish that for her because it's her due.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Monday, May 2, 2016
End of Life is a Cast-Iron Bitch
The past few weeks have been horrible, and they're about to get worse.
My MIL, as I've mentioned before, is eighty-seven - a bad eighty-seven because she didn't take care of herself when she was younger. Her body has been holding on even though her mind has been pretty much gone for years. Now her body is failing and we're facing the hard decisions children have to make for people for whom we care. It sucks, big time.
I was lucky because I grew up in a household where no one pretended that death didn't happen. We didn't discuss it, but it wasn't hushed up or glossed over either.
There were the family pets buried in the backyard with due ceremony.
Early memories that I have are of my grandmother sitting in a chair in what became my brother's room and, sometime later, standing at my bedroom window (where, I'm sure, my mom had told me to stay) watching an ambulance pull away from the house with her on a stretcher. I never saw her again but I remember the morning of the funeral - I was playing on the floor of my parent's bedroom with blocks and they were talking about whether I was old enough to go to the service. I didn't go to the service, so I was young enough not to be reasonable.
When I was in grade school, the older brother of a classmate died of an aneurysm.
It was there, around us, and recognized so while I feared it when I was younger, I understood that it happens to everyone. I've come to terms with it and, while it's not fun or pleasant, it also doesn't have to be dramatic.
I was there when my dad passed. He was surrounded by loving family - my mom, three of his four children and grandchildren.
My mom passed surrounded by most of the family when I was trying out for a new job - I couldn't be there but knowing my mom I knew precisely what she would say: "You do what you need to do. I'll be fine." Which is why I can write that, four years after her death, and not feel anything but the smallest pang of remorse. The remorse being because I feel as if I let her down, even though I know in my heart that she understood.
Hubby, however, is an only child. He never had to deal directly with the end-of-life stuff. One grandmother died in Oklahoma when he was here, in California. The other died in Los Angeles while he was in the northern part of the state. His father died, unexpectedly, when he was out of town.
Now he is facing the reality directly because MIL is dying right in front of his eyes.
Since she was released from the hospital in early April we've had nurses coming every-other-day to check on her, make sure she's improving. For three weeks I've seen what's happening - the lack of any improvement, a decline in function and ability to speak, but kept my mouth shut.
Today, the nurse said what I've recognized - we're in the end-game. Of course hubby is having a hard time coping. It's his mom and he's never had to deal with anything like this before. I also know that it's going to get harder once the initial shock passes him by. For now, though, he's going through the motions.
We had a conference call - hubby, the nurse (who is a marvel - someone who I met just the other day and instantly knew I would like to get to know as a friend) and me. The nurse recommended Hospice and I seconded it because they do such stellar work. I saw it with my Dad and recommend it to everyone and anyone dealing with a family member's End of Days. Hubby acceded to the idea - for the moment.
By the time I get home tonight I know what's going to have happened. He'll have passed through shock and probably through anger (although that's not a guarantee). Then I'll have to cope with denial. But, as I said to him on the phone, she is far enough gone that she is not going to improve, let alone get wholly better. There has been a steady decline in her physical and mental functions for weeks - and now it's time to make her comfortable, to give her the care that will ease her into that next stage.
Not fun, not pleasant, but the only thing we can all expect in this life and it sucks.
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
My MIL, as I've mentioned before, is eighty-seven - a bad eighty-seven because she didn't take care of herself when she was younger. Her body has been holding on even though her mind has been pretty much gone for years. Now her body is failing and we're facing the hard decisions children have to make for people for whom we care. It sucks, big time.
I was lucky because I grew up in a household where no one pretended that death didn't happen. We didn't discuss it, but it wasn't hushed up or glossed over either.
There were the family pets buried in the backyard with due ceremony.
Early memories that I have are of my grandmother sitting in a chair in what became my brother's room and, sometime later, standing at my bedroom window (where, I'm sure, my mom had told me to stay) watching an ambulance pull away from the house with her on a stretcher. I never saw her again but I remember the morning of the funeral - I was playing on the floor of my parent's bedroom with blocks and they were talking about whether I was old enough to go to the service. I didn't go to the service, so I was young enough not to be reasonable.
When I was in grade school, the older brother of a classmate died of an aneurysm.
It was there, around us, and recognized so while I feared it when I was younger, I understood that it happens to everyone. I've come to terms with it and, while it's not fun or pleasant, it also doesn't have to be dramatic.
I was there when my dad passed. He was surrounded by loving family - my mom, three of his four children and grandchildren.
My mom passed surrounded by most of the family when I was trying out for a new job - I couldn't be there but knowing my mom I knew precisely what she would say: "You do what you need to do. I'll be fine." Which is why I can write that, four years after her death, and not feel anything but the smallest pang of remorse. The remorse being because I feel as if I let her down, even though I know in my heart that she understood.
Hubby, however, is an only child. He never had to deal directly with the end-of-life stuff. One grandmother died in Oklahoma when he was here, in California. The other died in Los Angeles while he was in the northern part of the state. His father died, unexpectedly, when he was out of town.
Now he is facing the reality directly because MIL is dying right in front of his eyes.
Since she was released from the hospital in early April we've had nurses coming every-other-day to check on her, make sure she's improving. For three weeks I've seen what's happening - the lack of any improvement, a decline in function and ability to speak, but kept my mouth shut.
Today, the nurse said what I've recognized - we're in the end-game. Of course hubby is having a hard time coping. It's his mom and he's never had to deal with anything like this before. I also know that it's going to get harder once the initial shock passes him by. For now, though, he's going through the motions.
We had a conference call - hubby, the nurse (who is a marvel - someone who I met just the other day and instantly knew I would like to get to know as a friend) and me. The nurse recommended Hospice and I seconded it because they do such stellar work. I saw it with my Dad and recommend it to everyone and anyone dealing with a family member's End of Days. Hubby acceded to the idea - for the moment.
By the time I get home tonight I know what's going to have happened. He'll have passed through shock and probably through anger (although that's not a guarantee). Then I'll have to cope with denial. But, as I said to him on the phone, she is far enough gone that she is not going to improve, let alone get wholly better. There has been a steady decline in her physical and mental functions for weeks - and now it's time to make her comfortable, to give her the care that will ease her into that next stage.
Not fun, not pleasant, but the only thing we can all expect in this life and it sucks.
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Dear Mark - An Open Letter to Mark Levin
Last night, on my way home from work here in California, I tried - and I mean tried hard - to listen to your radio show for more than a couple of minutes, but you made my stomach churn in disgust.
You're a smart guy - I've read two of your books ('Men in Black' and 'Liberty & Tyranny') and found your writing engaging and smart without being condescending.
What I do not get is that you, as a self-declared Conservative and Constitutionalist, are backing a flagrant liar who has zero true love for the Constitution. Lip service doesn't count and actions speak louder than words in this world.
Ted Cruz lied when he said he would go to Washington and work to repeal Obamacare - all the alleged Republicans we voted into office in 2012 said the same thing and where are we now? Obamacare is still in place. The Republicans even had the majority in the House and the Senate for the last two years - so what's the problem? Why is Obamacare still in full force and effect?
I don't get how anyone can call healthcare a "right" within the Constitutional context. Where in the Founding documents was Congress given the power to force American citizens to buy a service or commodity they don't want? Yet he and the others elected in 2012 did nothing to even take a snippet out of that law that was shoved down our collective throats by Congress and SCOTUS.
Ted Cruz lies when he says he wants a sovereign United States with secure borders. He didn't pick up that banner until he saw that it was winning support among millions of American voters. Then he started giving it half-hearted lip service and I do not believe for one nanosecond that he means it.
Ted Cruz is married to a woman who worked for more than five years for the Council on Foreign Relations - the group that wants, as stated on their own website - "globalization".
Now please do not try to play ignorant on this one. Globalization means one-world order - a Tolkien-esque world (One Ring to Rule Them All). The UN wants the same thing - as stated in flowery terms in their 2030 Agenda.
Couples do not share bathrooms, beds, pillows and raising children without exchanging ideas and interests. We know where Heidi Cruz stands on this one-world order idea - she is straight on-board with it. Her name is all over a report for the CFR that calls for a unification of North America into a single entity - similar to the EU. And look at how well that's working out.
So are you telling me, Mr. Levin, that you agree with the globalist agenda? That you want our Constitution to take a back seat (all the way in the back) to some doctrine handed down by the UN and its globalist masters? Is that what you really want?
Because sure as I'm sitting here writing this, that is where you and others like you who support and promote Ted Cruz will drive us if Cruz is elected President.
Aside from that, he is a one-term Senator. What happened with the last one-term Senator who was elected President? Do we really want a replay of the past eight years?
Or is it because you can rest assured in his malleability in the hands of the money makers and power brokers that own his soul? After all, no candidate who has received as many tens of millions of dollars in contributions from Super PACs can walk away without obligation - we all know that.
Whatever it is, all respect I had for you before last night and hearing your constant refrain of "Wonderful Ted" is gone. I cannot fathom how anyone intelligent can get behind someone as bought and paid for as he is, who can swallow his lies whole and still praise him to the skies.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
You're a smart guy - I've read two of your books ('Men in Black' and 'Liberty & Tyranny') and found your writing engaging and smart without being condescending.
What I do not get is that you, as a self-declared Conservative and Constitutionalist, are backing a flagrant liar who has zero true love for the Constitution. Lip service doesn't count and actions speak louder than words in this world.
Ted Cruz lied when he said he would go to Washington and work to repeal Obamacare - all the alleged Republicans we voted into office in 2012 said the same thing and where are we now? Obamacare is still in place. The Republicans even had the majority in the House and the Senate for the last two years - so what's the problem? Why is Obamacare still in full force and effect?
I don't get how anyone can call healthcare a "right" within the Constitutional context. Where in the Founding documents was Congress given the power to force American citizens to buy a service or commodity they don't want? Yet he and the others elected in 2012 did nothing to even take a snippet out of that law that was shoved down our collective throats by Congress and SCOTUS.
Ted Cruz lies when he says he wants a sovereign United States with secure borders. He didn't pick up that banner until he saw that it was winning support among millions of American voters. Then he started giving it half-hearted lip service and I do not believe for one nanosecond that he means it.
Ted Cruz is married to a woman who worked for more than five years for the Council on Foreign Relations - the group that wants, as stated on their own website - "globalization".
Now please do not try to play ignorant on this one. Globalization means one-world order - a Tolkien-esque world (One Ring to Rule Them All). The UN wants the same thing - as stated in flowery terms in their 2030 Agenda.
Couples do not share bathrooms, beds, pillows and raising children without exchanging ideas and interests. We know where Heidi Cruz stands on this one-world order idea - she is straight on-board with it. Her name is all over a report for the CFR that calls for a unification of North America into a single entity - similar to the EU. And look at how well that's working out.
So are you telling me, Mr. Levin, that you agree with the globalist agenda? That you want our Constitution to take a back seat (all the way in the back) to some doctrine handed down by the UN and its globalist masters? Is that what you really want?
Because sure as I'm sitting here writing this, that is where you and others like you who support and promote Ted Cruz will drive us if Cruz is elected President.
Aside from that, he is a one-term Senator. What happened with the last one-term Senator who was elected President? Do we really want a replay of the past eight years?
Or is it because you can rest assured in his malleability in the hands of the money makers and power brokers that own his soul? After all, no candidate who has received as many tens of millions of dollars in contributions from Super PACs can walk away without obligation - we all know that.
Whatever it is, all respect I had for you before last night and hearing your constant refrain of "Wonderful Ted" is gone. I cannot fathom how anyone intelligent can get behind someone as bought and paid for as he is, who can swallow his lies whole and still praise him to the skies.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
I am LIVID
Okay - a week ago I wrote about my MIL's broken ankle. She caught her foot inside the leg of her night table as she was getting out of bed.
She's eight-seven years old, seems to have every medical condition known to science, and has never taken care of herself. More than twenty years ago she was diagnosed with high blood pressure, congestive heart failure, diabetes and half-a-dozen other things. She takes enough prescription medications to stock a decent pharmacy. I know about that because I do her medications for the week every Sunday - three pill boxes with meds for each condition along with supplements to help keep her healthy.
After she hurt her ankle, she didn't complain about it so we didn't realize how bad the situation was for a couple of days. We thought, based on what she told us, that it was simply twisted or sprained. We did what anyone else would do in a situation like that. We applied heat and ice to try to cope with what little swelling there was, and gave her Tylenol for the pain. Still she didn't say anything that led us to believe that it was worse than a sprain, but when it didn't get better after a couple of days we agreed it was time to take her into the hospital to get her checked out.
Instead of trying to get her into the car, which might have twisted it again, we called the paramedics. They came and transported her.
X-rays showed a broken ankle. The surgeon, after he opened her leg to repair it, told us he had a hard time distinguishing bone from soft tissue because her osteoporosis is so advanced. In the end, he used five screws to put it back together.
Now - two weeks after her hospitalization and surgery, ten days after she came home, two social workers showed up on our front doorstep this afternoon. They accused my husband of abusing his mother.
This after two weeks of listening to her moan and cry all hours of the day and night - "help me, I have to get out of here" - when she can't stand or put any weight at all on her ankle.
This after she's tried, several times, to get out of bed in the middle of the night. After the second time, hubby resorted to using a two-inch wide canvas strap, stretched between the metal bed rails we bought to keep her from falling out of bed. When it's tied in place, a good five inches above her belly and not in contact with her at all when she's lying down, it's enough to make her believe she can't get up. She's not aware enough or nimble enough to crawl out from under it - which anyone with a sliver of awareness would figure out in a nanosecond.
She is so lost to everything that, the other night, with no blankets or anything on and the ceiling fan directly above her bed running on full but with that strap in place several inches above her, she swore it was making her hot.
For the past ten days she has repeatedly demanded that she be allowed to go home. When we tell her "you are home" she doesn't let up - she doesn't understand. Other times she'll cry that she wants to go to bed. When we tell her she's in bed, at home, she'll say "oh" and start right in again.
Hubby has been getting up three and four times a night, every night, turning her to prevent bed sores, transferring her to the commode we have sitting smack dab in the middle of our living room, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. He has done everything possible for her and the nurses that have been coming to visit every-other-day for the past week haven't complained or commented.
Then, today, these two officious idiots show up on our front door step and accuse us of abusing her.
Yes - I am livid because this is not right, this is not even close to being right. It's so unjust, so wrong that hubby lost his temper and now, because hubby is over-tired, stressed and less than his normal self, they have threatened to come back with law enforcement.
If we were abusive of her, why would we take her to the hospital where our abuse would be found out? Why wouldn't we just strap her ankle - about which she was not even complaining - and tell her "shut up"? If we really wanted to beat her, starve her, hurt or harm her why would we take her to someplace where she will get care?
All this does is make me less inclined to look outside our house for help for her, not more.
Yes, I am livid.
My MIL is not unaware of her surroundings and she is easily frightened just by having the nurses coming into the house. After each of their visits it takes hours for her to settle down and even begin to relax and act at least a little calm and as rational as her current baseline.
I am so fed up with this nanny state looking over my back fence, telling me what I am doing wrong or at least not doing right, that I want to scream.
What are they going to do next? Now, along with all of the other stress we're dealing with - sleeplessness and strain of doing our best to be patient and caring, to do for her everything she needs to have done, we have this giant sword of Damocles hanging over us.
Are they going to haul our butts to jail for doing our level best within our income level and ability to pay?
Will they drag us into court and force us to defend ourselves?
Perhaps they'll forcibly ship her off to some "home" where other families send their elderly cast-offs to die.
That would be abuse of the worst kind. She's agoraphobic. She never settled into the hospital - didn't sleep for nearly ten days except when she was under anesthesia. She has some sense of where she is, so they're going to disrupt that and say it's best for her?
We've already been down that road once, and after that "home" did their dead level best to kill her by overdosing her on insulin (nine hours after being admitting she was back at the ER that had released her to their "care" with diabetic shock), we pulled her out. The State of California agreed with us and we had legal standing to file a lawsuit against that "home" but chose not to because of the strain it would put on MIL.
I don't know - I have no idea what's going to come next but having gotten this off my chest, for the moment, I feel a little better. But take this as a warning: if you live in the United States of America and if you take care of any family member at all - child or parent - you had damned well better wrap them up in bubble wrap and make sure they don't show a single solitary bruise or you might be up on charges next.
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
She's eight-seven years old, seems to have every medical condition known to science, and has never taken care of herself. More than twenty years ago she was diagnosed with high blood pressure, congestive heart failure, diabetes and half-a-dozen other things. She takes enough prescription medications to stock a decent pharmacy. I know about that because I do her medications for the week every Sunday - three pill boxes with meds for each condition along with supplements to help keep her healthy.
After she hurt her ankle, she didn't complain about it so we didn't realize how bad the situation was for a couple of days. We thought, based on what she told us, that it was simply twisted or sprained. We did what anyone else would do in a situation like that. We applied heat and ice to try to cope with what little swelling there was, and gave her Tylenol for the pain. Still she didn't say anything that led us to believe that it was worse than a sprain, but when it didn't get better after a couple of days we agreed it was time to take her into the hospital to get her checked out.
Instead of trying to get her into the car, which might have twisted it again, we called the paramedics. They came and transported her.
X-rays showed a broken ankle. The surgeon, after he opened her leg to repair it, told us he had a hard time distinguishing bone from soft tissue because her osteoporosis is so advanced. In the end, he used five screws to put it back together.
Now - two weeks after her hospitalization and surgery, ten days after she came home, two social workers showed up on our front doorstep this afternoon. They accused my husband of abusing his mother.
This after two weeks of listening to her moan and cry all hours of the day and night - "help me, I have to get out of here" - when she can't stand or put any weight at all on her ankle.
This after she's tried, several times, to get out of bed in the middle of the night. After the second time, hubby resorted to using a two-inch wide canvas strap, stretched between the metal bed rails we bought to keep her from falling out of bed. When it's tied in place, a good five inches above her belly and not in contact with her at all when she's lying down, it's enough to make her believe she can't get up. She's not aware enough or nimble enough to crawl out from under it - which anyone with a sliver of awareness would figure out in a nanosecond.
She is so lost to everything that, the other night, with no blankets or anything on and the ceiling fan directly above her bed running on full but with that strap in place several inches above her, she swore it was making her hot.
For the past ten days she has repeatedly demanded that she be allowed to go home. When we tell her "you are home" she doesn't let up - she doesn't understand. Other times she'll cry that she wants to go to bed. When we tell her she's in bed, at home, she'll say "oh" and start right in again.
Hubby has been getting up three and four times a night, every night, turning her to prevent bed sores, transferring her to the commode we have sitting smack dab in the middle of our living room, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. He has done everything possible for her and the nurses that have been coming to visit every-other-day for the past week haven't complained or commented.
Then, today, these two officious idiots show up on our front door step and accuse us of abusing her.
Yes - I am livid because this is not right, this is not even close to being right. It's so unjust, so wrong that hubby lost his temper and now, because hubby is over-tired, stressed and less than his normal self, they have threatened to come back with law enforcement.
If we were abusive of her, why would we take her to the hospital where our abuse would be found out? Why wouldn't we just strap her ankle - about which she was not even complaining - and tell her "shut up"? If we really wanted to beat her, starve her, hurt or harm her why would we take her to someplace where she will get care?
All this does is make me less inclined to look outside our house for help for her, not more.
Yes, I am livid.
My MIL is not unaware of her surroundings and she is easily frightened just by having the nurses coming into the house. After each of their visits it takes hours for her to settle down and even begin to relax and act at least a little calm and as rational as her current baseline.
I am so fed up with this nanny state looking over my back fence, telling me what I am doing wrong or at least not doing right, that I want to scream.
What are they going to do next? Now, along with all of the other stress we're dealing with - sleeplessness and strain of doing our best to be patient and caring, to do for her everything she needs to have done, we have this giant sword of Damocles hanging over us.
Are they going to haul our butts to jail for doing our level best within our income level and ability to pay?
Will they drag us into court and force us to defend ourselves?
Perhaps they'll forcibly ship her off to some "home" where other families send their elderly cast-offs to die.
That would be abuse of the worst kind. She's agoraphobic. She never settled into the hospital - didn't sleep for nearly ten days except when she was under anesthesia. She has some sense of where she is, so they're going to disrupt that and say it's best for her?
We've already been down that road once, and after that "home" did their dead level best to kill her by overdosing her on insulin (nine hours after being admitting she was back at the ER that had released her to their "care" with diabetic shock), we pulled her out. The State of California agreed with us and we had legal standing to file a lawsuit against that "home" but chose not to because of the strain it would put on MIL.
I don't know - I have no idea what's going to come next but having gotten this off my chest, for the moment, I feel a little better. But take this as a warning: if you live in the United States of America and if you take care of any family member at all - child or parent - you had damned well better wrap them up in bubble wrap and make sure they don't show a single solitary bruise or you might be up on charges next.
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Monday, April 25, 2016
Bailing Like Mad
Oh! How I wish I had a single shred of artistic talent for drawing. If I did, I have the vision of a perfect political jab.
After hearing the news this morning, I can clearly visualize the Cruz ship with Ted directing John to move the deck chairs over there while flailing madly with the bailing bucket and staring down the looming Trump iceberg.
There is nothing more pathetic than desperation, and that's what the latest bid by Cruz and Kasich clearly shows.
When Cruz took Carson aside into the closet before one of the debates a while back, he was probably trying to build the same kind of coalition.
Carson, man that he is, had none of it. He was dignified and gentlemanly and, so far as I've heard, has kept that conversation entirely to himself. That was a couple of months ago and word hasn't leaked, so he's a good and honorable man. Unlike the individual who attempted to importune him in that closet.
Now Cruz is probably dangling the Vice Presidency in front of Kasich's nose. That, of course, demands that Kasich is as completely delusional and naive as he appears.
Come on, man! You have won one state out of thirty-eight that have voted so far, and that by a narrow margin, and you really think you're going to pull this off and become Pres? Yeah, there's a sign of intelligence and savvy.
Even at the convention he's not going to stand a chance. According to current rules he cannot even have his name entered for consideration on the first ballot because he hasn't won the requisite number of state contests. To think this guy, as clueless as this seems, might be president is even scarier than the prospect of Hilliary or Bernie.
On the other hand, maybe his colluding with the Slime Master shows he has woken up to reality, sees he has no possible path to the nomination and is hitching his wagon to the one guy who will have him.
Of course, I wouldn't put it past Cruz to make all sorts of early morning promises ("of course I respect you") and then kick Kasich to the curb once the nomination is his.
However, when I went to school, 0 + 0 = 0 and that's what I'm seeing. Although, in this case, I think the equation could be re-written as Loser + Loser = Loser.
I am delighted that Trump is again leading in all of the polls leading into tomorrow's primaries. Even Indiana which just last week most of the pundits were saying would be a Cruz state. Now Trump is up by about six points, so I have hope. According to the specific state polls, Trump is trouncing the competition - and I don't think the desperate grasping at straws by Cruz is going to help him. It makes him look weak and sleazy.
Well, whatever else happens in the next forty-eight hours, I hope it's good news.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
After hearing the news this morning, I can clearly visualize the Cruz ship with Ted directing John to move the deck chairs over there while flailing madly with the bailing bucket and staring down the looming Trump iceberg.
There is nothing more pathetic than desperation, and that's what the latest bid by Cruz and Kasich clearly shows.
When Cruz took Carson aside into the closet before one of the debates a while back, he was probably trying to build the same kind of coalition.
Carson, man that he is, had none of it. He was dignified and gentlemanly and, so far as I've heard, has kept that conversation entirely to himself. That was a couple of months ago and word hasn't leaked, so he's a good and honorable man. Unlike the individual who attempted to importune him in that closet.
Now Cruz is probably dangling the Vice Presidency in front of Kasich's nose. That, of course, demands that Kasich is as completely delusional and naive as he appears.
Come on, man! You have won one state out of thirty-eight that have voted so far, and that by a narrow margin, and you really think you're going to pull this off and become Pres? Yeah, there's a sign of intelligence and savvy.
Even at the convention he's not going to stand a chance. According to current rules he cannot even have his name entered for consideration on the first ballot because he hasn't won the requisite number of state contests. To think this guy, as clueless as this seems, might be president is even scarier than the prospect of Hilliary or Bernie.
On the other hand, maybe his colluding with the Slime Master shows he has woken up to reality, sees he has no possible path to the nomination and is hitching his wagon to the one guy who will have him.
Of course, I wouldn't put it past Cruz to make all sorts of early morning promises ("of course I respect you") and then kick Kasich to the curb once the nomination is his.
However, when I went to school, 0 + 0 = 0 and that's what I'm seeing. Although, in this case, I think the equation could be re-written as Loser + Loser = Loser.
I am delighted that Trump is again leading in all of the polls leading into tomorrow's primaries. Even Indiana which just last week most of the pundits were saying would be a Cruz state. Now Trump is up by about six points, so I have hope. According to the specific state polls, Trump is trouncing the competition - and I don't think the desperate grasping at straws by Cruz is going to help him. It makes him look weak and sleazy.
Well, whatever else happens in the next forty-eight hours, I hope it's good news.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
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