Friday, May 18, 2012

De-suckering

05-16-2012
I am doing the back torturing work of removing the sucker shoots off the main trunk of the grapevine. It means getting down on one's knees, or crouching, and giving the trunk a massage, as one is not only rubbing the obvious shoots off, but also the buds under the bark that one cannot see. Many of these vines are 25 years old, over 6" in diameter, so there is a lot of surface area to cover. The vines are in rows, about 4' apart, and so after crouching or kneeling for a minute or so, one pauses to consider if it the least effort to crawl the 4' or stand up and walk it, and then crouch/kneel again. Consider that there is six acres and 1800 vines/acre, one's motivation flags at times.

The usual plethora of five or more contrails out in the sky today, sometimes creating a radiating pattern that converges at a mountaintop, as seen in the distance. One unusual contrail, seen twice, is mid-grey colored ones that rippled through the high cloud, and were grey against the blue sky. How does that happen?

And the deep red colored floatplane was out on Skaha Lake doing at least three passes. This is the same floatplane that flew past the beach where I was tanning, and seemingly coordinated with the same color deep red plasma coloring of a section of a white contrail that was overhead. These contrails are very high elevation, 30k to 50k feet, and here the perps are "coloring in" a section of one just for me to see overhead for all of two seconds or so.

A light coating of yellowish dust in on my vehicle after being parked at the vineyard where I was working. I suspect it was pollen, but as the vineyard owner sprayed with a sulfur, I took my vehicle in to pressure wash it on the heels of last weekend's extensive vehicle cleaning. I go to the car washing cleaning bays, and then to the change machine, which first accepts my $5 bill, spits it out, and takes it in/out over some three cycles, leaving it hanging out. I pull on it to release it, and put the same $5 in the adjacent machine, and it is accepted and lo, I get my change in $2 coins and one $1 coin. I go back to the bay, insert a $2 coin into the washer control panel and it passes it through, not accepting it. Twice more, same deal. I put in the other $2 coin, and it gets accepted. Like, what kind of insane Fuckwit has to piss with my money and have it rejected by two different coin machines?

I pressure wash the vehicle to get the dust off, and then depart the premises. Some three blocks later, a traffic jam, and the traffic moves very slowly. I get my camera out to take a picture of two same blue-green vehicles parked in file, and the camera has a "lens malfunction", as it won't project the lens barrel. Anyhow, I finally get to where I am going to turn, and lo, if the police haven't blocked the Main street of Penticton, and are putting on their flashing red and blue lights some three blocks away. I finally get back to my place after an escort of greyscale colored vehicles, some matched to the mid-grey of my Camry, and lo, if they don't have a pressure washing job here at this motel where I am staying.

And so, I get this hissing pressure washing noise for the rest of evening, from 1600h to 2000h, during the hockey game I am watching, while writing this blog, and the rest of my evening. I call this variant of   noisestalking, "noise continuity", ensuring that the noise of one location is replicated later in a different location. It seems to be more frequent now, the perps ensuring the noise continuance.

Another example would be the horrendous and much loathed HD motorcycle noise. They inundated me with this noise all of the past weekend, and when at work in the vineyard, why, they put this same noise on, though from a distance. Later, aircraft make similar noise as well.

But as this vineyard is some 5km from the Penticton Airport, one can expect all kinds of aircraft, which does "happen". So all the helicopter flyovers now have a semi-legit excuse; there is a nearby airport which they might be flying too. Though it is clear that some are just "passing by", and have no local airport association. As usual, the STRATCOM B-52 overflights were on, and the associated contrails.


The motocycle noise is backed off today for some reason (as of the present, 1535h), and weekday noise games are now the equal of the weekend noise games. Go figure. BUT one very loud HD noise erupted a short time ago- I had to take off my earmuffs, and at that instant it got very loud, so I put the heels of my palms against my ears to block it out.

05-17-2012
Another day of back bending de-suckering work, but with more heat, as in higher daytime temperature. But, the job is finished, and hopefully there will be no more like that. The perps had me reasonably OK by 1200h, but sacked me for availble energy by 1400h, with one more hour to go.

They went beserk with the infuriation harassment this morning; things fell by themselves, things rattled extra long after setting them down, they sent me to the wrong drawer or cupboard at least twice, and others. At least 20 vocalized enragements before they let me in on why; the opening of a new package of ground coffee is a BIG DEAL for the perps, (think brown color), and getting me extremely irate just beforehand just has to be so funny for them. Though, they did stick some coffee grounds to the empty spoon (static electricity, har, har) which fell onto the stove top. They are, the sickest assholes in the whole universe. But for some reason they didn't blow off a skiff of it onto the counter, creating their longstanding favorite Fuckover stunt, spilling coffee (grounds or liquid).

Back in the days of living as a teen in the First Feral Family home, I wondered why my next younger brother would always create a mess on the counter with his coffee, especially after I cleaned it. As in, how could he be such an unaware slob to pull the same mess everytime I finished cleaning the counter? My nickname for him was "Coffee Mess". And here we are over 35 years later, and the perps have this insane obsession over all things brown, and it was most likey that the coffee messes were arranged.

And too, said coffee grounds are in a all-red package instead of a white and red package, the local Okanagan Valley brand. And there is no rhyme or reason to what coffee (beans, ground) goes in what color of bag. No doubt the new all-red packaging color is cause for extra perp excitement in the form of extra infuriation and abuse, aka, enragement.

Pounding music vibrations start up at this seeming confluence of insane fuckery, including some things brown. I am attempting to fix this wretched Windows 7 game over "My Music", and now have two of them when the file names are different when one looks at the properties. In the properties box, one is named  "Music" and the other "My Music". All I wanted was the FLAC, MP3, and WAV files in separate directories under one "Music" directory name. But somehow, this simple rename became a copy job of 192Gb (the entire music library) into two different directoris simultaneously. The dialog box indicates an hour of processing/copying time, and I believe it, at 32Mb/second.

Soo... I decide to leave this PC to do its copying, and lo, if a sudden need to take a crap doesn't erupt. Then the perps block the toilet, so I need to let it drain for a while. Soo... I have my dinner, as in brown tortilla covering a quesadilla, and ginger beer, a light tan brown. Once done, and the dishes are cleaned, then back to deal with the toilet; some more plungings and finally it is cleared. Simultaneously, three shirts are hanging up to dry in the bathroom, and one is in the sink soaking as the assholes did not get the cuffs clean in the washing machine. All other shirts in the same load came clean. I go to find some spot remover, and lo, I don't have any, not having brought any with me when I came here in January. (Or else it got stolen, and these things have happened before). One of the most essential items I need to deal with perp sabotage after a toilet plunger and scissors (to cut the myriad of threads of clothing that somehow spring loose), is spot remover, and I don't have any here. Which means, I will have to go out somewhere to get some. What a fucking hassle. And this confluence of fuckery and color games, (brown games too),  I am getting this room pounded and vibrated by seeming neighbors with big feet and loud music.

05-18-2012
Another day on the vineyard, lowering the tucking wires to a position to make them available for later use in containing the shoots vertically, between a pair of trellis wires.

Last evening's fuckery and diversion, from unneed file copying (192Gb), toilet games, to laundry sabotage to getting spot remover, and re-laundering the one shirt that somehow couldn't come clean (it did finally), served to divert me from getting dinner made to then serve as left overs for lunch today. So.. it was two slices of chicken in shrink wrap for lunch in the tiffen tin acquired in an planted fit of Life Without Plastic that began two years ago. The perps seem to revel in creating these contraventions of principle, statements, intentions and this would be one example. And too, they seem to be testing me for re-introducing plastic objects in my midst, which includes shrink wrapped food.

And of some interest, my female surrogates with relative freedom, my daughter, ex and mother are on a junket to Ottawa, New York City and Washington DC. This is a whirlwind trip that is for a week, so I cannot think why this erupted now, though I have some suspicions about the locations. Ottawa was the region of military experimentations on children in the 1950's, as was NY state, though not NY City that I know of. I don't know what was done to child subjects in Washington DC back then. I only know of this through reports and books of other TI's, and the found photos on the Indian Lake Project on Blogspot. Another location of attrocities to children then was Montreal, and it is not on their itinerary. As mentioned many times, someone wiped out nearly all my recall when aged 2 to 5, so I don't know from firsthand experience what was done to me and the other children. The harassment themes appear to partially replicate situations of military, clerical and clinical circumstances, so I can only assume that they are attempting to replicate subconscious traumatizaton associations of these lost years. And as there is a considerable locational/provenance component to this abuse, it would seem to me that sending in the three closest female relatives on a short junket to the two known locations of this state sponsored child abuse back then is interesting timing.

My mother has been yakking on (read, name dropping) about visiting Ottawa and New York City for at least six years, and she has never lived or even visited either one to my knowledge. How she came to fixate on these two particular locations was never made clear to me, and she plays the batty dipshit card very well in my interactions. And too, the perps could teleport them there anytime for whatever reason, but it seems they want to make some kind of energetic correlation to conventional travel and visitation.

The frequency of the awful HD motorcycle noise has abated by at least a half or more compared to last weekend. Though the hot-rod engine noises have increased, but not to the level of the past four weeks. Which supports my claim that these noises and drivebys are arranged for perp purposes and that they can schedule them at will. Not forgetting that they can also project noise, that is, no apparent conventional source, but create the noise as if it were coming from the street and aforementioned sources.

I was making playlists up earlier, and quite a lot of outside tromping, door slamming, dude yakking noise erupted while I pressed the "Create" or select buttons on the application. Again, I have no idea why something so pedantic needs all this attention from the Abuser General and his minions.

Other perp related games was to have an adjacent vineyard do a concrete pour with a boom-pump truck to loft the concrete some 60' in the air. The past vineyard I worked at did the same; a patio expansion  job needed four large columns of concrete poured, and used much the same rig. That a concrete boom-pumper truck was beside me in traffic this morning for at least 4 minutes likely wasn't a fluke either. That and the ever present police vehicles that this town seems to overfund to have so many of them "happening" to show up in my presence.

I will post this one early, and start Saturday and Sunday with a new posting.

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