Mad as Hell...

Anyone? Anyone?

I am going to republish this from March 25, 2022, because instead of getting better, things are only getting worse. People are dropping dead from the “cure” or “prevention” instead of the “illness”. I thought there would be anger and indignation about what is happening. But, idiots go on their willfully ignorant way and people keep dying. Things, tragic and awful things, have only become more numerous and magnified. The pressure is unbearable, and to add insult to literal injury, news is out about the harm that is willfully being perpetrated upon the people and the people IGNORE it. Seriously. I. Can’t. Stand. It

March 25, 2022

I am mad as hell. I am wondering if other Americans are too. Listen, I am not here to pander or worry about hurting other people’s feelers. If you find this offensive, then turn the page. Don’t read it.

My husband and I have worked damn hard to get where we are. He has spent months away from his home and family working on a ship in the Bering Sea. For 26 years this has been our life. We have sacrificed, we have gone without, times have been lean, the kids have cried for their dad and he mourned the time lost and never recovered with his children, growing and changing every day. He missed a lot of firsts, from the time my son was 6 and my daughter 4, Dad was gone a lot. He started at the bottom of the ladder and he worked his way up…requiring longer stints away. I am not comparing our hardships and growing with any other family, this is not anyone else’s story. Okay? Okay.

I made a vow when Hubs left for the first time and I kissed him goodbye on that Seattle dock, as the kids were hugging his legs. I vowed that I would never, ever tell him anything that would distract him from doing his job; a very dangerous job where distraction can kill. It was in the days before e-mails and cell phones, the days when he would line up at a pay phone in Dutch Harbor with a prepaid long distance card and wait his turn for 5 minutes of a connection to home. The excitement of a call from dad always outweighed the tears and for this I am thankful. I held small jobs to bring in a little money, but my main job was being both mom and dad to two little kids. Our lease was up when he was away and I picked up house and moved to a different one. I just did it. We both worked hard, trying to keep our house a home. We are a team and always have been.

Things finally eased up financially as his hard work produced success and a good reputation in the small world of the Alaskan fishing industry. We finally found a place to build our forever home, enrolled our kids in a great school and proceeded on. I literally drove thousands of miles to and from basketball, football and volleyball games, Brain Bowls and seasonal school programs. I drove my kids 1/2 mile to the bus stop in the early morning darkness and was always waiting for them when they trundled off each afternoon.

Our parents were aging and so were our children. My dad was ailing and I took my kids out of school and drove from our state to California one cold snowy February. I was not at my parent’s house for even an hour and received a phone call from my brother-in-law across from the country telling me that Hub’s dad had just died. We were in the middle of my dad’s physical and mental breakdown, which turned into much more for my husband, me and our kids. I had to get a hold of Hubs when he was in the middle of A season on the Bering Sea and tell him that his dad had passed. We still were not flush enough to afford 3 last minute tickets across the country, but we managed to afford two. I bought new funeral worthy clothes for my 15 year old son and I. Hubs is a pragmatic man and had warned me that he could very well miss an important funeral because it is just not possible for him to be there. So, leaving my 12 year old daughter in the able care of my sister and mom in the midst of the chaos that was my dad, my son and I jetted off to the funeral of my lovely father-in-law. Hubs wrote a wonderful tribute to his dad and our son made us very proud when he read it in front of friends and family at the service.

Then, a scant 5 months later, while Hubs was again away at sea, I got a phone call from his brother. His sweet mama had passed away and once again, he would miss it all.

I had to call the summer camp where my 12 year old daughter was and tell her I was coming to get her because her beloved grandma was gone. Off to the other side of the country with 2 kids for another funeral, more tears and more sacrifice from my husband. As all good Catholics can attest, the visitations and services of the deceased can include 2 visitations on different days and a final service in the church with the priest and following graveside. The night before this last event, I received a phone call from my mom in California, informing me that my dad had passed away. So, the ordeal of death continued to hang over my little family. I wanted to soldier on quietly. But Hubs made a rare phone call to me the night before his mom’s burial and he could tell over the phone that something else was wrong. I told him about my dad. It was heart wrenching for all of us. So, what was supposed to be a time spent with one family sharing our grief turned into me booking 3 tickets to get out ASAP to bury the third parent/grandparent in 5 months. All without my husband. He was suffering alone. There was no mutual comforting amongst us. Let us just say that 2005 was one for the books.

We have been apart more than we have been together, but that made our time high quality, with very good memories. Our kids are now grown with their own families and are genuinely good human beings and amazing parents to our 7 grandchildren. This is the time we have worked for, the time to sit back and bask in the fruits of our labor and enjoy watching our grandkids grow and flourish. Being financially stable is what all this sacrifice has been about.

Enter 2020. A man made, manufactured virus and resulting plandemic sent the whole world into an evil menacing fear. The whole world. Think about that. Fear of the unknown was the name of the game. Hubs was blessed enough to still have his job, but, the fear was greater than any other force. The quarantines, the coming coup, the city of Seattle becoming something out of The Walking Dead. But, we had to go. I dropped him off on the pier, knowing that I would not see him for 6 months. Fear changed everything.

City Hall, Seattle June 2020. It was a FRIDAY morning.

We hugged tightly that June day in 2020 with the knowledge that it could very well be the last time we saw each other. I had never felt like that before.

As I drove the creepy empty streets of what should have been a thriving Seattle at rush hour, I thought perhaps he was actually safer out on the boat than I was. That is saying something.

He worked his hiney off for six months straight and busted it out. I kept the home fires burning, my ears listening to the peddling of Covid-19, like some desperate door to door salesman. The video of that man dropping dead on the street (in China of course) and the nonstop panic stirred up by opinions and spin, minus any facts, spurred on the erratic actions of even the most sane people. The facts were suppressed from the very beginning. Roads and freeways were eerily empty. Everyone was wearing masks. I drove those western freeways, from Idaho to Washington and back, from Idaho to California and back. I could sense the eerie feeling of existing in an alternate reality. I would see giant vans, but not much else. And, the word kept coming to me…coup. I was living in a silent coup. Refusing to “stay home to save lives” I saw a country that the rule followers never saw.

I-84 June 2020.

Same trip, different van.

Taken in Eastern Oregon June 2020

Oregon. Trip to Cali June 2020

Then…the mandates began. The earners were forced to get jabbed to keep their jobs. Forced. Coerced. Bribed. Homeless would line up to get the jab because they would get money or free stuff. No ID needed either. Despite the inventor of the mRNA vaccine stepping up and saying not good things about it being pushed onto the market with the EUA and subsequently into people, the government and businesses kept up the mandates and THEY complied. We heard there might be long term complications, but these warnings were ignored because one has to eat.

This tax on the working class is the price of a jab or two or three or four and the consequences are NON REFUNDABLE. Tax was paid and the ship kept fishing. The quarantines, the testing and the masking felt as if it has gone on forever. These goodbyes are getting more and more difficult. My husband does his due diligence with every investment and 401k option to make the most of the coming retirement. But, the current tanking economy is making every dollar saved worth half of what it was 4 years ago. Now, this man made, manufactured conflict in the Ukraine is causing gas to sky rocket and just today I heard that biden said to expect food shortages in America because of what is happening with Russia. Come again? (biden doesn’t deserve to be capitalized and is intentional.)

When these dirty politicians play with lives of people, everyday hard-working people who have always done the right thing, worked hard, saved money and lived the American dream, there has to be a reckoning. I, for one am very pissed off. These people behind the curtain are literally playing with our lives, health and livelihoods. What kind of world are our grandchildren going to be living in if we don’t step up for them now??!!

I feel the dirty, direct connection of the mandating of our lives. As the doom descends upon us and our retirement years, each day finds more reasons to be enraged at the circumstances our “government” has forced upon us. With the plandemic and vaccines, making us energy dependent upon despot governments, and now they are telling us to expect food shortages. Just when you thought the plandemic was over. Our security is being stolen one press conference at a time and I am mad as hell.

Now, move along. Nothing to see here.