Floating

It is one way to look at things, when you begin to get glimpses of life beyond this time and space.  It is also a recognized level I can reach in meditation/daydream state, in a couple of different ways.  But both involve splitting, which is seeing past all the density. Done first with open eyes, and later taken much deeper, almost like a dream state.  It is attractive in some sense to explore this floating place, as there are no discomforts there as here.  Always interesting, the overall feeling is truly like floating in air.

But now, I need to float myself out in that yard out there.  Doggies can face their fears too!  Wind storms with heavy rain and lots of thunder and trees banging on the house all day.  Final check on the chickens.  They are brave girls, with no decent house!  They go home to their wire transport cage every night.  Three hens sit on the big perch, the other one prefers to sit on the box underneath.  I go out every night and do a head count and lock their door, and then cover them up.  They make the strangest little whiney noises like they are really trying to tell me something.  We have a full week of this ahead.  I really need to hire a house manager, primarily kitchen, so I have time to do everything else!

The river trees drip rainwater heavily after storms like this.  You have to keep heads-up at all times, for falling trees and giant limbs loose over your head.  In July I hope to rent a backhoe and get busy.  If I don’t get some retaining walls up, we might just wash away like everything else!  Where we live is like a big open plain with some small hills.  The ocean to the south is about five hours away, but we feel her all the time, and even get the occasional sea bird.  They always make such a racket!

Dogs are such emotional creatures.  They really don’t do well in storms.  Now that this last one is done, everyone is knocked out!  I still hear some scary sounds, and it’s getting late.  I’ll put on my night gear and hope for the best.  The second I put on my boots, Helen will jump to her feet and wake the rest of them up.  Arnie just came in.  Kitties are bored and acting out.  Always it’s Arnie.  He’s gone from a baby, to a big show-off!  Ok…  let’s go seeeee!  😨

 

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Red Canyons Blaze…

There should be no more exploitation of dedicated lands recognized in the United States by any corporation or entity for profit or gain only to that holding company, nor any drilling or taking control of natural resources underimminent domain laws, or otherwise.

cissyblue

shenandoah-np-32-sunrise

Somewhere outside Price, Utah, I found a red canyon, still stretched between what we know as time and space.  When you have seen only a limited view of things, being suddenly aware of something different isn’t hard.

As you travel west in the United States, you will encounter mountains.  One of the things you learn is how the sun hits your mountain every day.  This canyon was a hidden niche in time, with its back to the west, all ablaze around her, in this glory of a desert sunset, she looked out in easterly fashion, across a world of all things.

Personally, I found this canyon to be incrediby heavy, as if I was trespassing. Even the people living here were strangely weird, as if they too had become lost between two worlds. In a dark hour, one should have a secret place of strong hold, with view of the…

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Summer Days

They had huge respect for everything.  When the early afternoon hit and there was no denying the incredible heat, they didn’t huddle around the only AC unit in the living room. They didn’t even go to the bathtub for relief.  But everything did shut down, the old house quiet, and intensely hot, inside and out.

The windows in their house were long and skinny, around 36 inches to ceiling, basically, if I had to guess.  There were three of these big tall windows in the dining room.  That room seemed to get the hottest.  I’m sure they had blinds, and they had to have drawn the blinds, I just can’t remember.  I do remember sneaking out to the road once, when I just wasn’t feeling like a nap, and hot hot the old black-top road was.  It was sticky, and stuck to my shoes.  I remember how the pine trees around the corner where things grew more wild, began to get sticky too.  And the smell was intoxicating.  Walking in an old pine forest on my own, being bold and independent when I was so young…  coming home with a puppy, of course.

To this day, I don’t know how it was possible, because I never saw them do any housework, especially my grandmother.  But their house was always in order, floors always clean.  Staged, basically.  In a very homey way.  Their dining room with the big windows sat in the very middle of the house and there was a big table and chairs, and a china hutch.  That was it.  Nothing else.  She always dressed her table in a big white table cloth, and that was pretty much it.  They weren’t excessive at all, about anything.

Funny thing was, they could have been.  My grandfather was so tight, you’d never know that guy was flush.  He had several bank accounts, and he was known to help people out from time to time, but he never acted in extravagance.  What they had was nice, and they lived a decent life.  But the resources they saved, saved for no one, could have…  wait…  what could it have done?  What does simply throwing money at any problem ever do…?  My own mother would talk out loud from time to time, as I remember, and a lot of what I heard had to do with money, and not having enough.  But at my grandmother’s house, they never talked of such things.  They always had things to do.

The contrast that was lived in their home was tenable.  From the relentless heat of a summer’s day to the twinkling lights of winter cold, it was always raw, real and visceral.  The water from the tap always cold, with a taste heavy with iron.  They’d always had a well and I’ve long forgotten when they did switch over to city water.  When they’d begin to wake up after nap, things would stay quiet, and still so hot.  This was a good time to present the new puppy as neither was keen for argument at this point…

As I look back on it all, I pretty much did whatever I wasn’t supposed to do.  I was just a curious little kid.  I wanted to investigate things and explore.  I didn’t have imaginary friends, and my brother was never there, so I enjoyed time with animals.  I often wonder if those small town country days are over, or if somewhere out there, still lives a sweet, innocent bunch of good people, just trying to make it, and help each other.  Where no one needs to lock their doors and people don’t do without.  They just don’t.

As you went more south of town, you would find the best places to explore, but I never went much past Old Jim’s place, or the sisters on the corner.  I loved them so much.  They were always full of mischief and play.  You could just see it in their eyes.  I always wondered how they got their yards so perfectly clean.  Not a rock, not a blade of grass.  Just dirt floor flat and clean, all around the house.  Maybe sometimes we might forget, as the years have blended us so much, but Susie’s skin was very black, except for her pink hands and feet.  And I loved to look into her eyes.  They seemed like they were full of a million stories.  And they always had animals around their houses.

Now we’d consider those houses just a shack.  They’re probably gone now, just like the people who lived there are gone.  You might not remember people from years gone by, but my heart wells up to think of them all.  They were good people.  Not a bad one in the lot. My grandmother enjoyed them as well, but mostly the amazing giant vegetables they might bring for her approval.  The vegetable truck which came once a week was always a big deal.  They pulled that big heaping hulk of a truck up into my grandfather’s driveway, squeaking and straining under the weight of a thousand pounds… and they’d start honking, the old woman yelling out “Veg-tabulllllssssss…”  very loudly, as if no-one was there to hear her at all…  and kids hanging out, hanging on…  to all the vegetables all over the back of the truck.  It was quite the spectacle!

Since all those days of summer are just memories now, the idea of a new summer ahead of us makes me wonder.  The possibilities are endless.

 

 

 

 

6-year-old boy bit by Western Diamondback Rattlesnake — KXAN.com

AUSTIN (KXAN) – Six-year-old Kole Black is recovering after being bit by a Western Diamondback rattlesnake on March 28th in Spicewood, Texas. To fight the infection, family members tell us that Kole has received more than 30 vials of antivenom, costing the family around $2,500 each. Despite fighting a 101 degree fever, debilitating pain and…

via 6-year-old boy bit by Western Diamondback Rattlesnake — KXAN.com

Grasping Ascension

cissyblue

It’s becoming easy to see why so many people talk about ascension, and why it is so hard to understand in terms of everyday life. But then I don’t drink tap water, and haven’t for probably 15 years or more. I don’t watch tv and I don’t eat non-foods (poisons) and I am clean of prescription drugs, now for over two years. So many people like the status quo; they don’t want to “lose” their economic status. The idea of not having money or debt must terrify them. But then they don’t see all the starving animals and children in the world, right here in the United States.  So filled with hatred and fear, they do not care about those struggling people of other nations. Heck, we can’t even be kind to the closest neighbor to the south. Instead we build giant walls between us. That is why I am…

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Every move you make…

They’ve got us rat-holed, pigeon-hold, every way from Sunday shut down, lock down, railroaded, confused and just plain tired of it all…

In America, when you reach that certain age, you become entangled in the web of insanity known as Medicare.  I say this primarily because mainstream doctors have to adhere to so many rules and guidelines for practice, in order to claim the insurance payment.  They do call it Medicare Insurance.  I’ve never completely trusted insurance of any kind.  I’m sorry, but there are no guarantees in life!

Around 1938, in rural Texas, they had one doctor.  He came into town once a month and treated everyone that required it.  Then he left again until next time.  I remember when going to the doctor started to become receiving a referral to another doctor, the specialist.  Now I just get referred to the surgeon.  I’m serious.

Now I receive multiple packets in the mail, large white envelopes, from the government agencies that regulate Medicare, wherein you have many layered questions aimed at determining your level of disability or need to receive the Medicare.  As far as I can determine, the clear and obvious aim of the entire program is to get you in to see a doctor as often as possible.

I have seen first hand how cruel health care workers can be to patients, in many different settings and circumstances.  Try to imagine coming on shift to thirty-three patients on your wing, with only a nurse cemented to her station in the hallway for 8 hours.  Each patient is in various stages of dying, or in the sadly ironic case, still trying desperately to live.  You alone are responsible for all the needs of these people, and the first thing they teach you in these jobs is to move fast.  Modern doctors tend to want to move fast.  That’s one of the things that concerns me.

In the community where I live, you have only a slim handful of options, as far as health care is concerned.  If you don’t want to submit to the machine that is the ruling elite of physicians in this county, then the few single practitioners are what is left, and they are usually packed with patients.  The young man I was going to, seemed to have no connect with his actual impact on the community…  no real grasp of what he was supposed to be doing. Instead, he was focused on the internal drama and workings of his office, as he sought to navigate the business he found himself in.  The way the business was lined out for him, he had few options in terms of treatments.  After seeing many red flags over time, I last heard and saw in the newspaper where a disgruntled patient had burned down his office space.  You could not forget those images.

The last two vehicles I purchased used didn’t last more than five or six years.  When they took my last van away, it looked like buying another would not happen again for me.  I live three miles from the nearest town.  The doctors there are family doctors who have lived and worked and treated the same people for years.  They seldom take on a new patient.  I know because over the years I have called trying to get in and been turned away.  More and more people using Medicare are being turned away.

In America now, specifically in the Austin, Texas area, you have a tremendous group of professionals of all fields of expertise, who practice holistic medicine.  Medicare insurance does not pay for alternative medicine.  I know several physicians and psychiatrists who have left government jobs and gone private.  They do not take Medicare.  Most other disciplines such as Acupuncture, and the purveyors of herbal medicines do not accept insurance.

Having come from a legal background, and having perused these questions in this government packet, one thing that stood out was where it mentioned something about complying with your doctors’ orders, which would include medications.

Personally, I want to be healthy.  All I see in this system, in this program, is negative.  I don’t see people being helped at all.  Perhaps the Mexican patients with all their children were the primary demographic targeted in the first place, as I noticed in the primary doctor’s office I went to.  The one that was burned to the ground.  Beware the masters you serve.

So in America, if you want to see a dentist, get out your wallet.  Get ready to get deep down into that wallet, and expect for it to span out over multiple visits…  as long as you are game…   If you want to speak to a professional in the mental health arena, if you are concerned about anything to do with your personality, or your particular mental issues, once again, be prepared to part with large sums of money in order to get on their docket, if you can.

It shakes me to my core, brings me to my knees, to face a system that has no heart.  A never-ending group of people all bending to the whims of a paperwork system designed to make money for a government in control. And so we look for other options and we make do.  We seek to survive on our own as long as we can.  For the great majority of Americans, whether educated or not, having tons of extra disposable income, isn’t reality. Most individuals just do not have hundreds and thousands of dollars to spend past the vitals of existence.  In this country, health care does not include dental care, does not include mental health care, or sometimes specialty doctors, someone who practices outside the mainstream.

But now that very system seeks to drag me back into the fray, evaluate my level of cooperation and compliance.  That’s enough right there to make me feel sick.  But this is just one example of the plights of the economically disadvantaged citizens in America.  If you have been able and smart enough to build adequate financial foundations and barriers against such problems, then I salute you!  If you are strong and confident in your ability to provide sustained protection for you and your family over the coming years, again, that’s to be congratulated.  I could be your grandmother.  After living and working my lifetime in this country, finding a good doctor or health clinic should not be so hard.  Having access to affordable and ethical dentistry has been a lifelong problem.  How do you write on a government questionnaire, that your poor health is a result of a failed system.  That your doctor’s office was burned to the ground and you suffered a total loss of faith in the system as a result.

I am clean now.  I kicked all of the drugs he had me on.  I feel okay too. Aside from the issues of dental health, and lack of available organic foods rich in nutrients, lack of ability to purchase supplements, and no doctors anywhere near me accepting patients, my health is about what one would expect for my age and economic situation.  I rely on myself and my friends.

Today I pick up my pen, and I will put to paper certain answers that will determine my future.  They just sent me this packet a few days ago, and there is a subtle deadline given of Dec. 31, I believe.  That would be a small window of time in which to respond, or otherwise lose all benefits.  A time when your mind isn’t really centered on government and health care.  It’s cold outside and end of December has always meant family to me, and being home.  Not for making appointments and going to see doctors, when you aren’t even sick.

“They don’t want a person capable of critical thinking.”  George Carlin

Be honest.  Be brutally honest.  Just see what happens.