Sunday, January 29, 2017

Cancer is Expensive

Cancer is expensive, and I am only talking about the supplements, not the medications. I am not in the league of the latter, and don't expect to be if it comes to that. I am talking about prostate cancer, something the perps delivered on the date of my daughter's birthday last year, and thereby crafting an entre for me to tell her about it in a later phone call. Which is about the only phone call (or discussion) I have had on this topic with her since then, 06-2016. She isn't alone in the First Feral Family indifference, though I expected better from her.

The expensive part is all these infernal supplements; $250 for five items that might last 6 weeks. (Which is short of the eight regular items, and ten in total). Last year's $10k drain was due to this, and I am not expecting any reprieve if I continue on this particular program. Yes, it helped to get my PSA number down to the normal range, but of course that isn't an accurate indicator of cancer. So onto other remedies, though they aren't cheap either. No wonder my mother gave me some more money this past Christmas visit. And one has to wonder if I get conventional treatment (aka, cut, burn, poison), what kind of supplements I will need to deal with the collateral damage, aka, "side effects".

Just to think; we had very effective cancer remedies in the 1930's with the Rife technologies, and still we have 600k going down every year in the US and Canada. That is World War proportions, and at a rate of every year. And we have conventional medicine barking up the wrong tree for all this time, calling it a cell mutation problem. It is a cellular repair problem to be sure, and the cancer cells have some unique properties such that they don't ever self-destruct, under go apoptosis. And we have the AMA beating up on anyone, including MD's, who has effective alternative cancer treatments, including Rife. One prominent alternate treatment clinic in California will not treat cancer patients, as the clinic head indicated that he doesn't want to conduct medicine with a target on his back.

So what is it about cancer and conventional cancer treatments that so interests the perps? Hammering the piss out of the immune system seems to be a big thrill, ahem, non-consensual human research agenda item. And if that weren't enough, they pulled HIV on humans on top of auto-immune diseases. Another agenda item that is long familiar to this TI is disrupting the victims lives, which includes financial ruination. And finishing up with taking them out prematurely, another component of this harassment that seems to add into the picture. Don't think for a minute cancer is some background gotcha; it is much more prevalent than 20 years ago, and it can be remotely invoked. Dave McGowan blew the doors off the military influences of the 1960's genesis of rock music and the whole counter culture foment as it began in Laurel Canyon by researching and authoring the book "Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon: Laurel Canyon, Covert Ops & the Dark Heart of the Hippie Dream" in 2014. In Feb. 2015 he was (healthily) promoting his book in an 42m interview on Antidote, then by May he was diagnosed with metastasized cancer, and died Nov. 22 2015. Interesting choice of date on the perps' part too. But as his daughter says, "[he was] a heavy smoker for over 40 years, he also had a job that exposed him to asbestos and other cancer-causing agents." Exploitation of the obvious or natural cause?

Though I have not read his previous book, "Understanding the F-Word: American Fascism and the Politics of Illusion", I am quite sure it too brought him the wrong kind of attention, that is, having a target painted on his back.

Yoga today, and the room was over-populated when I was a whole 10 minutes early of the 15 minute break between classes. Lots of young pretty things this time, no tattoos, but instead a negro woman for the first time. I suppose consuming a dark brown chocolate pecan cluster 10 min. before setting off would of been a good food color match to her skin color, she being located three mats away. And some lighter brown E. Indian girls too, but they placed Caucasian blondes on either side of me. The whole yoga thing seems to be such an important part of this harassment campaign, all those spinal stretches and all.

What is it about January that the perps need to hit me with late hour get-ups? I am talking about getting up at 0900h or so, and then by the time breakfast, shaving etc. it done, it is nearly 1100h. Another hole punched in my day.

I had been attempting to get up much earlier with an alarm clock, but they whack me with more sleep after I turn it off. An 0800h appointment tomorrow, so we shall see how this goes. This morning there were some things I wanted to get done, and so with minimal breakfast and no shower or shave, I got onto them. Then of course they had me "forget" that I had missed this when I got back.

The perps have been doing this for decades; January is the month I simply cannot awaken without severe tiredness.

 And I thought Dave McGowan's site was serious read of alternity. Until I came across Miles W Mathis' web site; fake deaths of Elvis Presley, John Lennon, Marilyn Monroe, Sharon Tate and co. and the list goes on. Then add in more treatises on Bob Dylan, the 1960's folk scene as a CIA plant, and many more that I haven't yet read, and it will take a week of thoughtful reading to digest all of this. A serious re-orientation of one's world perspective is in order. Particularly the wide and complete penetration of the media, art world, cinema and music industries by the CIA, MI6 or its forerunners (or who ever they are). A major paradigm shift indeed. Trove through the annual updates.

Then nearer to the action, though I won't go into details, I read (eventually) "The Monica Lewinsky Scandal Was Faked" by above mentioned Miles Mathis. And that Bill Clinton is gay, as is Hillary. I might of been parked in a cave for a while, but this is a huge revelation to me; have a read, 23pp.

Friday, and with no pressing work commitment until next week, I got nailed with another late get-up (0930h). (I didn't two days ago when I had an 0800h appointment, when in fact, I was awakened earlier than the 0600h alarm). I set the alarm for 0800h, and got hit with more sleepiness. As always, sleep deficit considerations don't figure in the situation.

And back to freaking shoelace problems, this time over new laces. Formerly, the shoelace problems were the assholes unfastening my tied shoelaces, even double tied, whenever they wanted, usually in public to slow me down and force a bend-over to tie them up. This idiotic assault was at least 2x/week in the helter-skelter Fuckover days of 2002, but they dropped the frequency down to perhaps 1x/two months after that. Even less now, 4x/year, in the last 4 years. Today, the shoelace jerkaround was new laces that weren't long enough, even if the package indicated that it was for 4 hole per side. These were 24" laces, and the assholes screwed me into "thinking" the laces weren't even 24", as they were way too short. I took them back, always a perp stunt, and they measured them, and sure enough, they were 24". Another Fuckover First; not being able to know what 24" looks like. So I get the 30" laces after all that, and they are barely long enough. And this whole idiotic jerkaround started because the supplied laces broke in short order, and I got ribbon-style laces to replace them, which looked like shit. Finally, after getting jerked around for over a year ("forgets"), I get to replace them with round (dress) laces and then the assholes put me through all the above mentioned bullshit. And what is the point of all that anyhow? I could go on about all pairs of my boots and shoes that have shoelaces and give a history of the fuckery and premature wear that "happens", but I think you get the idea.

Sunday, a shut-in day, which means Monday will be an intense gangstalking day. Assuming that I find an excuse to to outside, as it seems these cold windy days seem to be so inhibiting to outside venture.

And after reading Miles W Mathis for five days straight, save the art world critiques because I have no interest in them, I am getting a little spun out, or perhaps over exposed to so many things that are nothing of what them seem in the public arena (until now). Not that I disbelieve them in the main, but reading too much of the same genre in one session can be too much. Or perhaps, my perceptions of reading tolerance are being screwed with. Or perhaps that so much seems faked that I need to retreat and ponder it all. In the least, I am an numerology agnostic, though he is not.

Though, I am not 100% convinced of the fake JFK assassination, but he does bring up many interesting anomalies that have not made it to the public domain before. Like, why were the crowds so sparse at Dealy Plaza. And why did the presidential motorcade stop three times enroute? It is also an interesting notion that LHO was given a black sweater to wear before he was "shot", possibly to mask the appearance of blood, as there wasn't any. Not in the article, but why on earth would Jack Ruby, an active organized crime member, volunteer to do in Oswald at police headquarters and then languish in jail? I have never figured that one out. The notion that JFK is alive and well and running the show from behind the scenes seems a little stretched. I don't know what all these high profile guys would do when suddenly removed from their normal habits, residence and family; I cannot imagine themselves being content to sit it out in a vacation residence for the rest of their days. Anyhow, what is the point of all these faked deaths, singly from Monroe, JFK, RFK, and so many others, all the way up to the Tate murders, Sandy Hook massacre and the Boston Marathon terrorism event? In the course of this infernal harassment, I myself have been subject to witnessing faked vehicle accidents in 2003 to 2006, as seen from driving by; e.g. such as missing crash vehicles long before the tow trucks arrived, so yes, nothing is what it seems. Except now, the faked events as researched and presented by Miles W Mathis, is at least another order of magnitude bigger.

[This paragraph was modified one day after publication, and the next paragraph was wholly added]
The perps certainly do like people to believe the wrong things, be they temporarily mis-heard words, long held concepts or world events, and this may relate to their information source, aka epistemology, research agenda. Too, they like to arrange misplaced emotion and beliefs especially toward figures that are seemingly dead but may in fact be alive. A related angle is to have family believe one of theirs died, but is in fact alive somewhere. In fact, the 9/11 events strongly suggest that Flight 77 did not crash into the Pentagon, which begs the question as to what happened to the passengers, and are they in some camp while their families believe they are dead. Certainly the mismanagement of the Vietnam POWs, some seeming to reside in Vietnamese prison camps long afterward suggests the same. Another very likely passenger/family separating event was the downing of KAL007 09-01-1983. According to Wikipedia, not always the most reliable source, it appears the aircraft was shot down, per Soviet fighter aircraft radio. Only 13 passenger remains were identified but 231 shoes, and no luggage or other personal effects. Later research (and here) suggests the aircraft landed or ditched and the passengers were removed, and the children were orphaned out and the adults imprisoned. All the search craft found on the water was their footwear and above mentioned remains. So what interests the perps about human connection when at least one party thinks the other is deceased? I don't know, but it seems to be a considerable part of their agenda.

(One can add war mortality onto this list as a significant item. Or how about that dumbshit stunt where the rescue officials of a mining disaster (this one?) got the survivors and the rescueds list mixed up and had informed families of the wrong outcome. A mistake it wasn't IMHO).

Anyhow, the latest is to have me get up late, 1000h, and not get functioning until 1200h, and then not eat lunch until dinner time and have only two main meals a day. Considering all the testing the perps do on when I eat something and the respective timing as to whatever else, why am I surprised? The latest is to have me "forget" to eat the breakfast time supplements until an hour after breakfast, that being around 1030h or so. All these delayed meals and differing times to ingest the next thing, and messing around with food colors is just so important to the perps of late. Possibly because I start a vineyard gig in three days time, which means little opportunity to piss with meal timing 5 days per week. We shall see. As always, starting a new job always brings trepidation as the assholes always create some kind of cognitive dissonance, enough to get my ass reamed out for something, even if trivial. Failing that, someone within earshot gets their ass reamed out. And if that weren't a regular theme, starting a new job means someting is going to go wrong for sure, with the same outcome. I don't get the impression my foreman-to-be has the greatest sense of humor or resilience. We shall see.

Anyhow, enough to get this posted and onto other managed and orchestrated ventures for this coming week.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Post Shut-in Cluster F**k

Why is is that after a shut-in day (yesterday, due the installation of the track lighting at my residence), is it that there is a surge of gangstalking on my ass wherever I go, aka, a cluster of clusterfucks? (The latter term I use to describe higher gangstalking density and arranged confluences around me, used differently from its military origins to describe a field exercise gone terribly wrong among various groups that were intended to coordinate, but instead, are confused and at odds.)

Five stops this morning on my outing, and at each stop it got more intense. They even put on a street works, one-through lane obstruction at my turn to the first errand stop, Value Village. (Per traffic control personnel, I went through the obstruction on the opposite side of the road). Then onto the re-cycle drop off, then back on the same street to the specialty grocer, where the dude force was out to hound my ass walking in, through the store, check out and outside. At least they put a new attractive cashier for the first time, skipping the fuglies of various descriptions, save the one I regarded as neutral.

Then to the mall to get more groceries as the specialty grocer's prices were too high, and instead of getting pomegranate juice for $17/L, I got it for $10/L on sale. Then onto LD to get more of those ridiculously priced razor blades, and what a holy gangstalking it was. Even so far as having the ridiculous dudes lounging around at -8C in 30kph winds outside the mall doors. (Like WTF; if was legit, wouldn't they hang around inside?). And lo, if LD wasn't having a customer surge just then, with only one checkout active, the other shutting down. Also, the surging arriving customers came to cross through the line of customers waiting for a checkout. And why do they always cross in front or behind me? This goes back decades to cinema lineups and others; it seemed that there was an inordinate number of people (now termed perp controlled Fuckwits), who "needed" to cross the queue in my immediate proximity. And we had a queue jumper today as well, putting on the grinning idiot look. Why I didn't say anything was a testament to mind control IMHO. I swore to myself I would give up on LD and try that awful perp place called Walmart. But that is where I almost got chest butted by an apparent staff member who decided to walk down my aisle with her head down. Another nutzo perp establishment IMHO.

All this later morning activity was started by the assholes who kept me asleep an hour past the alarm. This preceded by keeping me awake most of the night with alternating light sleep. And as mentioned many times in these postings, the perps can keep one awake all night and one feels just fine and not tired in the least the whole next day. They even kept up this sleepless run for three days back in the helter-skelter harassment days of 2002.

A morning trip to Kelowna to visit the Good Doctor (mostly, but not always), to view and consult on my dopamine test results. If the results got reported Dec. 21, 2016, I do find it tardy that I wasn't called until Jan. 11 to make an appointment. Anyhow, all my planted notions over the test going missing in the Christmas mail came to naught, and we do know who likes to plant FUD, especially the Doubt component.

After all that, my dopamine is low, but my glutamine is much lower than the range. So more supplements to improve digestion and then to add glutamine to my diet. And we did get onto the topic of me being harassed owing to my former stimulant medication history, as that  episode that stopped that particular very successful medication application. I thought this was most unusual, that I got to reveal my harassment history in summary, when of course it seems that most everything is arranged beforehand. She didn't seem too deeply interested in all the details as to how it all happened, but at least she isn't playing naive any more. If all goes according to past such revelation rarities, she will pretend it didn't ever happen and no reference will be made to this egregious and all-encompassing violation of one's personal existence.

Nor was the Good Doctor interested in my latest theory that low Vitamin C absorption might be at the root of my dopamine, and now glutamine, levels. It just seems each visit the whole thing is rigged, and part of it is too, to ignore what I am saying no matter the validity. Given the high strangeness the clinical profession lapses into whenever I mention "dopamine", why am I surprised. And not to forget, the Good Doctor blew me off last year when I offered my dopamine deficiency thesis, and she said "there is nothing I can do". Well she is doing something now, and in good measure because I insisted on the dopamine pee test which finally got done in 12-2016. And it got delayed 6 months due to the prostate cancer onset/panic/re-direction of concerns.

And while visiting Kelowna, I had a number of shopping plans after my appointment, but somehow felt "guided" not to undertake any of them and returned home instead. Like WTF; I have the time to do so at present, and it wasn't a huge endeavor to stop at a few favorite locations, but no, the stern hand of the Repressors came on and I dutifully drove home.

And I should of been reading "Naturopathic Oncology", but somehow got derailed into reading Alien Agenda by Jim Marrs, a fine summary book on UFO's and abductions and crop circles that summarizes many others' findings, some with a historical context. Some referenced authors use the term "Earth quarantine" to mean that we are kept separate from the rest of the cosmos to prevent us from attaining higher vibrational states. Certainly, more than one researcher has put themselves out there to state as much, and it does concur with what I have come to believe, in good measure enforced by my TI experiences. I think TI's are part of the continuum that alien abductions belong to; nonconsensual human research subjects, excepting that we are researched down the the last detail, perhaps even sub-atomic detail. And that takes time, much more that a typical visitation and abduction duration by an alien craft and crew. Though I am sure there are human cooperators, perhaps, "running with aliens" might describe this crowd, but it seems even this cooperative access to humans (perps) isn't sufficient so they round on TI's and harass the living piss out of them (figuratively and literally) so they can be researched to deeper levels in situ. That aliens have been around since recorded time, and even millions of years ago according to some contactees, still hasn't given them sufficient observation duration for us "earthly containers". I don't discuss the alien, abduction and world control topics much on this here blog, as it is just too much beyond the realm of what I have to deal with every day and dilutes the nature of what this blog is all about. "Alien Agenda" is highly recommended, and my fondest wish is that us TI's would get a chapter in it to round it out. Then all would be copesthetic.

The autobody repair guy called yesterday and said that could I bring the Ford Escape in today for it's repair, originally scheduled 6 days hence. Sure, I said, wondering how such an irregularity in scheduling keeps "happening" to me. He only had two days to get the parts for crissakes. But whatever. My mother's pinball driving methods have finally come down to this.

Which includes not getting the repair done in August 2016, and then in late December I attempted to get it done in Victoria but never heard back from the shop. All to deprive me of the vehicle for 6 days having drove it here only a week ago. Back to driving the Camry, my regular ride of the past five years. Switching me between... [tasks, locations etc.- fill in the blank] is nothing new, and so it would seem this is part of the ongoing perp arrangements that are now so familiar.

Anyhow, I met up with the auto body repair guy at 0800h this morning, and he dropped me back at my place so I could then step out and get into the Camry and drive it to Toyota for its oil change. Funny how they arranged a convergence of auto repairs, this briefest of intervals when I have two in my ownership. I hung out at the local Starbucks and then nearby SOF supermarket while the repairs were done. It is rare that they let me drink coffee, but unusually they did, and the gangstalking was low key for once. And for "some reason" the assholes dithered me when I got back home and "forgot" my groceries in the vehicle for three hours. Thanks a bunch, another never-before neural invasion event.

What is it about screwing up sequences, or the expectation of something being in sequence, that so interests the perps? I see that my text messages don't come in sequence any more (since 05-2017); if a response arrives within a few minutes, it pops up above the message I sent to elicit said response. And now I see Amazon is jacking with the listings, as they were always in order of lowest price to highest for the item in question, (say, looking at used items from the "used" link), but now they are all in a quasi-sequence; the lowest at first, and then increasing, and then lower prices again. Go figure.

Taking out the garbage tonight begat me extra attention for this perp-important event. The back lane neighbor's dog was out and I got continuous barking dog coverage. The owners did screw all apart from yelling at the dog until the last of my two trips to the landlord's garbage canisters. And too, a helicopter circling overhead for two low passes while the dog was barking. There is something the perps like about night flights, barking dogs and garbage duty.

All this because of about 07-2016, the new garbage regulations were that I had to use the landlord's garbage canisters and could not put one out for myself as I had been doing for three years here. Never mind they still drive past my former garbage can deposit location with the garbage truck. All things change if it is of perp interest, especially the long running obsessions they have, garbage being one.

The snow is finally melting, and that crunchy ice packed surface has now revealed all the normal ground surfaces. It looks like the "snow pack" (in town) has finally receded after some four weeks, of which I was away for two. Again, snow and ice represent part of the perp agenda and their preoccupation with water in all its forms, sources, delivery and distribution methods from weather (call it natural) to pipes, sprinklers, drains etc. and of course, it being imbibed or taken with irrigated food crops. If they have been following us for a million years or so, this is a very deep research project, us humans and all plants in all our water usage and transference.

To my semi-regular TI caller; I got your message, duly deleted. Look into MMS for Lyme Disease, if you are sure you have it.

Ford Escape body work got done four days ahead of time; I thought it was going to be done next week, but he phoned me this afternoon (Friday). No ride offer this time, and so I walked up there, which turned out to be holy vehicular gangstalking swarm. They don't often have me doing "street walking" any more since vehicle ownership was allowed in 2012, but when I do, they go crazy.

And talk about a bum deal; the auto body shop owner has a father-in-law with cancer, a mother-in-law with Lyme Disease and twin girls with cerebral palsy. All that covered in the time while finishing up the paper work. So if he knows something about the perps and their arrangements, then he must know they had a hand in such medical matters. I wonder how this whole deal sits with such folks.

A job interview this afternoon; the guy said he knew about me from the work I did for the bud collection project there. Not exactly a friendly interviewer, especially for the casual world of farm work, but maybe he was scared shitless, given the seeming perp set up that I walk into for such situations. And for perhaps every situation, as it seems.

It seems that I am getting behind on gangstalking literature. Once sparse, a recent search on Amazon picked up a bunch of books. "Gangstalking; the Threat to Humanity" seems to be a good one, written by a professional to whom this has been happening. As so often, it seems like an event triggers the extra surveillance and attention, but in my experience they have long been following the victim and for whatever reason need a cover story to go overt. Overt to the victim, though outwardly, is pretend-to-believe. "Diary of an Angry Targeted Individual" by Renee Pittman. Again, I haven't read it, but the reviews are positive.

Saturday, and despite my best efforts in having the alarm set for 0800h, they screwed me into a 0930h get-up. Which segued into a great total morning write-off as I had another vehicle appointment at 1100h, to get the new audio unit installed. It takes an hour, so I was cut loose to look around the local stores, and not finding what I was looking for in the way of fleece lined winter tights. (My very favorite winter time leg coverings as they are so warm and comfortable as long as they are reasonably wind resistant). But the gangstalking bullshit started up at the second store so I refrained from going to Walmart next door, as I am so fed up of that place and its gangstalking scene. Then to a coffee chain, TH, where I could even find a seat and was yet again, relatively free from the gangstalking scene. I got to hear Germans at the next table and all their phone woes about travelling in Europe and the US.

Maybe that was a set up for my own phone woes, as I connected to the free Wi-Fi there and yet could not get on the internet to view my mail. Like WTF; why is the Android platform, or perhaps, any platform I chose, such an utter and obstinant techo-adverse event? Perhaps that is why they decided to have me not use the Iphone where it might actually be convenient and ergonomically understandable.

All to set me up with the Pioneer deck in my vehicle and its changing lighting, which just drives me squirrely; one color, as long it is not red or pink. I am at about  six attempts to get the pathetic manual understood, but had to resort to Youtube to find out yet more commands the frigging manual "forgot" to include. The perps know how to exploit every last detail, and confuse the victim; "Key Color" was not an instruction on keying in a color as I was lead to believe, but an option to light the keys, which would of been followed by another command to change the display, which then would be followed by an option for both. I think I am up to 10 screaming rage-fications over that one alone, and of course, that is only the start of mastering these multi-modal buttons which must be perp designed to drive victims crazy. Pioneer and Ikea both go down together in How Not to Write a Manual camp, though I am sure there are plenty of others. Hint for the tech-twits; see if your wife can follow the manual; if not, fix it until she can. This is not intended to be a sexist remark, but there are certain cognition subsets between the genders (usually), and I don't line up with the tech-twits. And I have the Fourth Reich on my ass to drive that point home at every opportunity, today being an especially exploitative exasperation campaign of theirs. All related to their insane obsession over where information comes from and how I deploy it, aka, epistemology. (Did you ever think all those school and college shootings were random?). All the better for the perps if I make ump-teen attempts at following the manual and failing each time. Thanks a lot assholes for this cognitive hell, substantially worse since they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

Sunday, and the continuing saga of an Amazon transaction that looks too good to be true burned me up yesterday. Unfettered by perp mind control games, I would of not got into this at all, but now I am attempting to terminate this idiocy as it has gone on for too long, and seems more irregular with each passing event. Lets see; Amazon had the greatest system for online transactions going; put the item in the "shopping cart", pay, and it gets shipped, usually promptly and correctly. Now with this Amazon Marketplace (whatever that is exactly), the transaction gets protracted for days and one isn't sure it is a scam for the entire duration, until the item gets delivered. How did they come to screw up such a magnificent and dog-simple method? I tell you, the perps just love to sabotage all things that work well, and this could be such an example. Read on.

And today, I see the Amazon help page has gone blank, and the phone help has gone missing from last night's web browsing. The help phone numbers were missing last night for crissakes.

Finally, the Amazon help page does come up with a phone number, and I phone, and it is confirmed to be a scam. The adage, "if it looks too good to be true, it usually is" applies, and due to the mind fuck games I violated my own ethic. Thanks assholes. No financial hit on this thankfully.

That all done, and a late lunch due to a 9.5 hour sleep in, no prior sleep deficit, per usual. And the assholes pulled a good one; they had me puke up my lunch. Nothing unusual or ill feeling or flu-ish, they just wanted me to puke. So they did. They have done this less than 4x since the overt harassment started in 2002, and perhaps the same again for the sensation that it was going to happen, but didn't. It seems the color green factors into this, wearing a green sweater today, and green food inside me. The last time they pulled this puking stunt was in 2012, when it "happened" outside on a backyard lawn. And don't ask me how they decide as to which TI gets how much of the imposed pissing, shitting or puking problems than they had before the harassment went overt. The harassment regimen and guidelines must be established for each TI, and all the variances, as well as any needed conventional medical cover story.

Then they backed the toilet up on the third flush after two earlier flushes sending the puke drain bound. There isn't any conventional reason for this whatsover, but I am long familiar with the unconventional nowadays, especially with toilets.

Now late, and a call from my semi-regular TI caller. As usual, the Magic Jack connection sucks and there were at least four breaks in communication. Not unusual in TI World, where perp caused interruptions are the rule of the day. Another shut-in day, and so I will call this one done, and likely the experiences in the post title will repeat themselves tomorrow.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Amateur Electrician

That would be me, amateur electrician, though I always do a professional job. I once took a house wiring course in the evening, taught by an electrician, and have always scrupulously followed the electrical code. I have in my house owning past installed 4-ways (two switches controlling two lights), 3-ways, a sub-panel, and a litany of switches and outlet boxes. And today, still at the First Feral Family house, I was at it again, as my perp-abetting mother needed an outlet near the top of the stairs for a night light to enable her to see the top of the stairs before descending. There isn't a decent overhead light, as it seems her vision is going. And as we all know, when it comes to renovations, even if limited to electrical ones, one project morphs into another.

And so it was; an install of the single gang electrical box, acquired at Home Depot in a mighty gangstalking scene yesterday, replete with blondes on cell phones with shopping carts reprising at both my aisle stops, and the inevitable shiftless and fugly dudes who parade behind them. (And who block the aisles and arrive for no seeming purpose). Actually, in "normal" perp keeping, they had me revisit the store again today, as the physical impossibility of cramming three connectors (marettes we call them here, but that is the manufacturer's name), and six conductors into a single gang box was nigh impossible. I looked up the "box fill" chart, and it was according to code for a 11 cubic inch box, but in TI World, where every possibility is exploited for maximum inconvenience and hassle, it wasn't doable. Besides, my mother had already had four AC plugs hanging off this single gang duplex receptacle, so I decided a two gang box with two duplex receptacles (4 outlets in all) was much better. And I got my box fill, and could jump the receptacles and avoid two connectors (marettes). It all worked better in the end, but what a grievous hassle it was.

Then the hassle was over getting the electrical box to fit in the wall straight, getting the receptacles plumb, getting the box positioned so the receptacles weren't sucked back into the wall, thwarting the inevitable push back from the springy conductors (normal), and many other adjustment problems. In the process, the assholes also made me grab the live outlet to get the characteristic AC tingle (electric shock) in the the fingers. Thanks assholes, I have done at least 200 hours of electrical work and I have never, ever, made that mistake before.

Then I get to repeat this electrical installation exercise again when back in Penticton in a few days see below), as they had me purchase ceiling mounted track and lighting. While the project was planted in mind for the last two years, I did not want to do this as it costs too much money. Lo, if there wasn't a local sale on lighting track and when making a phone inquiry, they seemed not to have it. But as the store was close to the irrigation store that I had just visited, I dropped by at the lighting shop and ended up with all the track, light heads and connecting boxes, all to pack back to Penticton in a few days time. The attractive blonde woman at the lighting shop put me onto the sales guy with the UK accent, who was a very decent and informative person. Then the near thing four days later when I wanted to get two more heads (light fixtures that fit on tracks), and bulbs; the attractive blonde woman was at the track section and got the UK guy again. Again, all was copesthetic with him.

Though the perps DO LOVE putting on UK accents around me; the BBC News of course, and dear Global Vancouver has a dishy new UK babe on the 6:00 news. Though I think they should of stuck with blonde AD, whom I just adore (and with a home grown accent).

And what exactly is it that so interests the perps so much in having me mess with household electrical wiring? The short answer is I don't know, but from what I can tell, by way of them pissing me off with finger fumbling, tool dropping and forced "forgets", they are interested in insulated sheathing and its colors, and all the associated wire stripping, revealing the copper wire and connecting the conductors. Woo-hoo; there are legions of electricians out there doing this work every day, and presumably the perps can surreptitiously follow them as they have done to me for my first 47 years, so what exactly is their interest? Again, I don't know, but given the perp's insane perseverance over showing me copper colored vehicles these 14.5 years of this abuse-athon, it might be about the copper color "vibe", and too, separating this from my interaction with the earth energies of this particular copper metal. Surely to fuck they have surveilled enough unaware subjects over the millennia wearing copper jewelry that they don't need to fuck with me over this? But no, the perps are utterly relentless, consistent and singular over whatever research objectives they have over copper, metals, and their electrification. And who knows how many times I handled copper ore samples by way of my youthful interest in geology, abetted by my father who was a geologist (though primarily in coal and oil).

I did the driving with my perp-abetting mother so she could acquire a walker, one she ordered last week. The perps pulled an advance hailstorm to line the roads with hail, still on the ground when she exited the store with her new walker. The perps went nuts with vehicular gangstalking once she exited the store; two Fuckwits parked broadside to the stalls, "causing" another two to get backed up behind them, all with this backdrop of hail still on the ground. Prior to that, a "warm up" to fuel the vehicle with a B-train fuel tanker "happening" to make a delivery and to force me to back up to the pump and was 10' away while fueling the vehicle. Then onward and stopping at HD, this time free of gangstalkers in the electrical department, but not at the checkouts which "happened" to have a customer surge (read gangstalking surge) when I arrived to pay. All to hold me up in attempting to pay, and haven't we done that at least a few thousand times since all the perps went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002?

I "happened" to encounter my former director at the MoF in my government forestry days,1990-1999 at the local LD store. These were the days of building software and a database for permanent sample plot data for forest growth and yield studies, a difficult project to say the least, as it took three attempts to get it nailed down with a system that was easy to maintain. Explicit rules and no hidden data meaning or black box subroutines was also part of the design criteria, coming from me, after witnessing the captive (and expensive) software maintenance situation that was endemic at the time.

Back to the "happenchance" meeting in the aisle of LD; he is coming at me head down and I didn't think anything of this person, just another gangstalker to negotiate around. Then he looks up to then identify me at the last instant, though by then I was looking past at him. It seemed so contrived, aka, arranged.

I drove from Victoria to Penticton today, mastering the BC Ferry, then the lower mainland arterials (Greater Vancouver) to get to Ikea, then onto the new 17 route to then get to the Hwy 1 which took me out the Fraser Valley to Hope, and after a fuel up, onto Hwy 5 (the Coquihalla Pass), then to Merrit, then to the 97c route to the Penask Summit to Peachland and then to Penticton. This was in my mother's Ford Escape, now mine, as she has decided she cannot drive any more. I had the summer tires on board along with a bunch of my own stuff that was lingering at the First Feral Family house, and also, to prevent more theft by my light fingered brother in Kamloops. (He appears to have stolen my speakers from the crawl space two years ago, and my 4' electronic level and some kitchenware have gone missing in the last year).

So... here I was driving a brown interior-ed vehicle with a light metallic tan body, and with 4 tires on board. And we know who loves all things rubber, don't we? Sure enough, they put on a flatbed with a load of five over-width new large vehicle tires, 12' in diameter (maximum lane width). It took a while to pass this long vehicle as it was steep and I wanted to be sure that I didn't sideswipe his load, hanging out as it was.

Back to getting things done in this town; banking and then onto getting my new eyeglasses, ones that had to be pulled and heated to get the frame to sit on my face straight. Not that the assholes had damaged the glasses any (unusual in all the history of wearing them), but that they just don't sit straight on my face right from the factory. So the old ones got fixed first as a practice round, and the new ones fixed second, the frames being identical, though both with slightly different modifications to have cable temples put on. Another game the assholes play is to have eyeglasses slip on my face all the time, and so I had to get them modified to deal with that bullshit, and the cable temples did a good job. Last year, one temple "failed" and was replaced and it then required a new custom cable. This made the temples asymmetrical (as they wouldn't use the one I supplied), a situation the perps constantly like to create. So today, I advance (in perp-think terms) to symmetrical temples on my eyeglasses frames, though the lenses are different.

My last pair of new eyeglasses got special perp attention in 2010, when they pulled this all-time ridiculous stunt of two men both wearing fedoras that came through the door as I was about to exit. Talk about a 1950's retro moment. Today, it was a blonde staff member trailed by a fugly elderly patient as my first sight after the frame adjustment person, who was very helpful (also blonde).

The perp driven compulsion over getting my legs waxed again. The student from last time began, and then the instructor came around 10 minutes later and worked on the other leg at the same time. She and I talk about wineries and wines each time, and it is very convivial with a three year history of our mutual topical interests. She is very large, and when done, why, I get to see her oversized ass from my horizontal level while she is about to depart and consequently I look away. She then moves closer to me so I get to see her ass again. Funny how that "happens", these Unfavorable moments get reprised, often in close sequence (e.g. the grocery store stalkers who have an unerring habit of crossing my path in such predictable sequences- outside, inside near the windows, at the back of the store, perhaps a few more aisles, even the freezer cases, then at the checkout and then outside again).

Then onto getting a tan at the salon, after some back and forth appointment games, the attendant phoning me to say that she gave me the wrong time for the next customer. Don't ask me how one does that, but stranger things have "happened".

I set the alarm for 0630h, and got screwed into a 0830h get-up time. Which meant the assholes fucked me out of attending the Okanagan Prostate Support Group meeting, the third such instance in succession since I attended my first meeting in October.  Get this, the assholes give me prostate cancer and time it for the summer when there are no meetings (a two month planned hiatus), and then they finally allow me to attend an initial meeting in October. I planned to attend the next meeting in November they pull a Saturday work day, my only one of the 8 week winery gig. Then in December another gig ran late, and we worked Saturday. And then today's jerkaround. What fucking purpose does this serve? Having the victim attend one public meeting and then screwing them out of the next three in succession, all for a disease they gave the victim in the first place.

And what is it about obstructing me in creating and sending job resumes that is so important to the perps? One out of three I am batting tonight. A Monster managed HR site managed to lock me out over creating an "account", and then when I wanted to reset the password it would not take it. Then to contact someone, it sent me to the same page. Like, we did contingent infinite loops 20 years ago, where one fuckup (unknowingly made by the victim) then feeds into a loop that one cannot escape (error contingency). Bravo Monster; another resume submission thwarted. An alternative was to submit via Linked In, another sore spot due to perp fuckery, and lo, if that particular option didn't disappear when the job page was re-visited.

Depending on how you count it, I might be batting one out of four on job submissions; a colleague was to send me a job posting a week ago and didn't. Fine, and not the first time promised emails haven't arrived. I get a text message to say that he has sent it, and lo, if it didn't arrive. So what is it about job postings and applications that has to be obstructed all the time? I don't get it; they can obstruct me all they want and I would never know it, as sending an email could be easily intercepted without my knowledge. So why put me through this obvious fuckery?

Then onto a more home-grown/local vineyard job resume fuck up. This time, two jobs were sent by an email notice and no contact information for either of them.

Saturday, and laundry day today. The usual grimace from the co-owner woman, the chatty husband was his usual self. All to keep me wandering around with my change in my hand to hold me up from starting my loads. Later, strategic blocking by "customers" of my usual dryer, so I used a different one that squeaked like hell, and so got out and went home. When back, why, more strategic blocking, this time of the dryer I used. How anyone could approach me from 10' away, stop at 5' in a narrow aisle situation and not notice me (or anyone) and stand there dumbstruck (or more like it, faux dumbstruck) is beyond me. I have never encountered so many stupid assholes who pretend to inadvertently block egress until all this shit rained down on me since 04-2002.

Sunday, and I got screwed into a 11 hour sleep, getting up at 1000h. Talk about punching a hole in my day, but we have done this before. And all the more in winter for some reason; they just love to lay on these extended sleeps. Not that my dreams were any pleasant either, and normally I don't remember them. Even if they have been more vivid since I started taking melatonin since 09-2016. The exception was last night (in dream) when for some reason they had someone fly out of their concert seat some 60' away, and the concert hall was populated, though no one was playing. This would violate their usual code of not having anyone witnessing their extra-conventional games, be it violating gravity or teleportation. I can assure you that I have never seen such an egregious variance of what the perps permit me to see, and it is all the more curious that it would show up in my dreams. As mentioned many times, I have come to know that dreams can be accessed by the perps at will, and they will plant whatever they want me to see. For what purpose, I have no idea.

Back to being amateur electrician again today, though it was more of a home modification job. It was putting up 20' of track in three segments, a T shape, the top of the T sitting 15" parallel to a wall, and the middle segment feeding it from 8' away from a what was as central living room light. This particular light had pathetic light output, and the two 6' segments along the wall now with four spot lamps provide this here desk with some much needed illumination. I must say, it all looks grand, now with adequate illumination over my work area, and added floods that fill the living room. All in LED lamps, and a decent 3000K color temperature. Well done, even if must thank the perps for that one.

The lighting project wasn't without infernal perp harassment though; they pulled screwdrivers from my hands once I was standing on the chair, twice over one screw even, and some major confusion over cutting the track to length. At least two screamings at them every five minutes or so. This was a 7 hour job. It could of been worse they like to tell me, and could of cognitively clobbered all the more. Forget about being allowed to do any jobs that require fine motor control assembly. They also pulled some faux electrocution games, where the wire end somehow tingled me (one finger), and they even did this when grabbing the unpowered track connector through two fingers on one hand. I tested the conductors at least twice to ensure that the power was off, and still the asshole applied these faux electrocution games. Perhaps they were reprising the sensation of being electrocuted through my fingers, in the above mentioned prior wiring job.

Anyhow, this is it for the week, and I will post this to close it off.

Tuesday, January 03, 2017

2016 Harassment Wrap Up

With all the year end wrap ups  on TV, particularly the obituaries the perps like me to see, this is my version. Though I see a few more celebs passed away while at the First Feral Family house, and of course with its exposure to TV-land, something I abhor as it is such a manipulative medium. Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds and George Michael, none of whom I followed to  any extent. In fact, I was flabbergasted that GM sold over 100 million albums as I had never followed his music and never heard much from him. In terms of celebrity mind-share (mine only), I put him in the same category as Prince; vacant pop. They did in David Bowie (IMHO) while I was here a year ago in early January, another celeb I didn't follow much as the act was more important than the music, which I didn't care for anyhow. (I am a folkie mostly).

In 2016, the perps;
-gave me prostate cancer and pulled his relevation on my daughter's birthday- thanks assholes.

-and in continuing this, no one in the First Feral Family seems to give a shit, or has any sustained interest in what I am doing about it. I have half a mind to eat pounds of sugar each day and call this bullshit abuse-athon done. And of course, naturopathic treatments serve to drain my limited financial resources, even if it is supplements and not those god-awful chemo poisons. Just the usual; fuck the victim some more, and in every way, this time have him run through $10k.

-my perp abetting father died, though he of 14 year's Alzheimer's sufferance, and from whom I received the $10k. And an obstinate Luddite before that, and of no major support after age 12. He isn't missed.

-my health care was interfered with yet again; the testosterone and DHEA medications were woking great until they got pulled by the doctor because of the above mentioned prostate diagnosis. Back in 04-2002 I was on a ADD medication that was very helpful and the assholes pulled an almighty stunt that had this medication pulled.

-on the related dopamine deficiency front (the essence of ADD), I have been blown off by 4 doctors in 2016, and due to the prostate cancer diagnosis I didn't get back to testing "periperhal pathways" (not the brain) for this until late December. I haven't yet got the results, and presently ponder if they got lost in the mail somehow, which might be another $250 wasted.

-and I find out that dopamine deficiency is associated  with prostate cancer for crissakes, only in 11-2016, not that any doctor told me. How I will  be effectively treated is still a mystery, as dopamine deficiency treatment tolerance is a real problem; ask any Parkinson's patient.

-and it the course of my recent dopamine research I see that dementia, imbalance and other complaints of old age are likely causal. So what to I do; go into old age knowing the landscape is fucking hell health-wise, or eat pounds of sugar and bail on this? Never mind the relentless perp abuse and insane harassment that has every prospect to continue.

-the perps had a big research/harassment accomplishment sometime in mid-2016; they pulled  a plasmic fireworks show in the running shower, a sign of complete neural pathway control (they tell me). I suspect this was my attention pathway, as they never seem to script noise anytime my attention is diverted to something else, either me "cycling" to another pending activity or else a planted distraction. Note that these plasmic fireworks events happen after an electromagnetic fluctuation ("kick') in my proximity. This would of been the shower door closing as it has a magnetic latch. And past such plasmic fireworks have also been accompanied by such a EMF "kick"; turning on my PC one time as an example. Do the perps now have total control of me now? I don't know, as they have been so close for so long that I gave up monitoring their noise games each time my attention switched.

-my long wanted gig with a commercial winery turned into a minor bust, 10 to 11-2016. The assholes set me up for failure by remotely applied neural fuckery at least 20x/week, and add in the forklift stunt, and the wine spill stunt, and the seeming operative who wrapped up my power cords twice for no seeming reason, I could never be allowed to get things done in a timely and  efficient manner.

-that, and the still continuing fuckery, and it seems the perps were bound and determined to make me stupider in 2016. And it seems they are continuing in this vein, having me "forget" the obvious, stumble on normal words etc. And when they begin such a sustained campaign, they don't let up. Old age beckons they say. Pass the sugar I say.

Anyhow, nothing too uplifting here, but I wanted to get it on the record.

Putting On the Power Ditz

Some relax time here at the First Feral Family house, and to add some reflections on this past week.

And recount some things from today, my perp-abetting mother in fine form, putting on the power-ditzing act again. Making out to be a hard of hearing ditz, in public of course and when shopping. Not only does she needs things repeated, and at louder volume, she gets terms and words crossed up, and constantly needs to be corrected. And adroitly asking irrelevant questions of the the sales assistants, particularly timed to hold up the financial transaction, a long running high-Fuckove/stalk moment. Now post Christmas, it is without the surge of gangstalking assholes around, tailing me from aisle to aisle, and no chocolates section at LD this time.

This time it was two garden centers, in the quest for supplies to fix up the raised beds that are rotting out. I dug one bed up two days ago, and was treated to the aircraft noise show in part as I was digging up old compost. Compost is another perp fixation as regular readers will know. And too, the adjacent (8' away) of the cedar hedge roots ran inside the landscape barrier fabric, but inside the untreated wood and rotted it out from the inside. Now the plan is to put pots directly on landscape fabric, but bounding the whole thing so that raccoons cannot feed upon the planted  seeds and ripening produce.

My farm-worker friend came around for a hike this morning, and we went to the park where I took Ms.C back in 2003 on her only visit to Victoria. (She from Everett, WA). The outing was timed to continue to delay me in taking down the chicken and stucco wire fencing of the above  mentioned raised bed, as these formed the fence around it, (two in fact). And yes, metal fencing (and mesh) is another big perp deal, going back to 1800 when they hounded James Tilley Matthews, TI-0, with "air looms" (a loom shed which is made of steel wires spanning parallel  wood supports. This was featured in the book, "The Air Loom Gang", since re-titled "The Influencing Machine" (UK) or, "A Visionary Madness" (USA), the latter title to hype the mental instability angle the author (or publisher?) is playing up. (Also at Good Reads, the "Linda" authored review seems to be fair minded). Nowadays, the modern perp prop is shopping carts, usually the metal rod fabricated kind. And so, farting about with steel fencing is similar, all those cross welded wires. (And it may be why the perps like me to work in vineyards and trellis wires, now 5 years worth).

A pre-Christmas event was to take my mother to the Silver Threads Center and have a dinner with the duckies, the old folks. There was at least 120 or so, mostly with white hair, and the odd dye job. The woman next to me had just come off surgery, she telling me this with a certain penetrating gaze, somewhat uncharacteristic of her as it turned out. There was a serving staff of some 10 or so, and they were known to the community of duckies there. (My mother and I were invited, and she has no prior association with the organization or location). Anyhow, there was one woman server, and for the moment, I will name her as the Attractive Black Haired Woman, (ABHW) She was 40-ish and attractive with black shoulder length hair, and a ready and natural smile. And lo, if she didn't spend much of her time crossing my visual path to the stage, and often stopping there for me to see her in profile as well (welcomed too), a common perp tactic.

There were two door prizes at this event, and lo of all coincidences, if the woman beside me (who had recent surgery) didn't win one prize. Which was a perfect excuse for the ABHW to come to our table and place herself between us to deliver the door prize and chat to this woman and wish her well on her recovery. Call it a "babe-in-close, but without any direct engagement event"; a mouthful for sure, but it is most odd that the perps still need to incrementally add someone attractive into my proximity after the "warm up" posing she had done until then. Following the dinner there was a one hour concert and as far as I could tell, she was sitting on the side and enjoying the concert like anyone else.

The ABHW wasn't done yet, as she also was on door duty at the end of the event, and lo, if my mother and I weren't the first ones to leave, everyone else holding back, another common perp crowd management technique I Have come to know. She had time to accompany us out the door for the first 10', guiding us with her LED flashlight even if the exit was well lit. (The ABHW was also outside when we arrived, on parking duty). So, whoever she was, she got full coverage; outside in the dimming light on arrival, inside for the 2 hour event, and then, outside when departing. Anyhow, I find it interesting that after 14.5 years of stalking, insane harassment, staging my every move and moment, the perps still need to arrange babe-visage time in this incremental and incidental (appearing) fashion. Just what is this all about? The perps tell me telepathically they are eliminating all my dopaminergic reactions to attractiveness and aesthetic form; be it females, (form, figure, clothes, face etc.), interesting designs and art, and all other such intrinsic human reactions.

Though the perps also tell me that this whole arranged charade is a "warm up" to their long running plan (the ML notions they constantly plant in mind), for a real romantic event.  They don't get it; just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough.

And of course, the perps telepathically inserted romantic notions over ABHW for the whole evening. And in nearly all these such events, they made sure I noticed that she had no wedding ring. And as always, my native and unfettered reaction is no romantic considerations are warranted; I am a TI with everyone knowing about it (probably in advance), and my life is governed and mind controlled to my every breath and notion, I am 20 years older than her,  I earn piss-all and have no savings, and in this case, I live in another town, so forget it. Normal and reasonable reactions are not allowed in TI World; unreasonable romantic notions must be inserted even if it is the last thing I would consider on my own.

And what is it about having prostate cancer that begets such a yawn from those who should care, aka, give a shit? My farm worker friend says, "you are fit and healthy, you should be OK", which is similar to what the treating naturopath said to me in November. Another lady at the laundromat, said that I was smart and I should be OK. My former landlady wasn't too moved either, and she is the caring kind and works at a care home for crissakes. Many men die from this disease, and to get any kind of empathetic registry cannot be had in this bullshit storm I am kept in.

My daughter came over to visit today, per plan. Except that she came early and the perps got me up late so I had no breakfast and was still in the shower when she arrived. (Another perp manipulation in full form here at the First Feral Family house is to screw with my wake up time and ensure I run out of time to shower or shave).

A blonde babe at the opposite table provided major distraction, speaking with a man facing opposite, back to me.

And as it "happpened", two blonde women arrived at the table behind me too. My daughter is blonde-ish too.

finally, a decent weather day, and I got out to "root among the roots", taking these two raised beds apart as one was invaded by cedar hedge roots, and the other by pine tree roots. No doubt the perps got great mileage out of this, as they are are obsessed with plant roots. In this case the roots were above ground, mostly circulating around the beds between the barrier fabric and the milled logs that made the bed. The logs were mostly rotted out, and the barrier fabric held up pretty well, but still roots were getting in and feeding from the soil that was put there to support the vegetable plantings.

And no activity involving digging soil or composting goes without an accompanying noise parade. The Noise Maker Neighbor, got out his power washer and washed one of the two Ford pick up trucks that frequent the place, opposite the First Feral Family house. Then came on a moderate amount of aircraft noise, then neighbors on either side, both away since Dec. 20 to my limited knowledge arrived", and did their backyard activities, including putting young kids out on one side.

Accompanying my power ditzing perp abetting mother on a shopping trip again; plenty of back and forths to get things she "forgot" at the supper market. Another ditz move, besides her erstwhile dithering and doddering, is to stay in place and block aisles, or better yet (from the perp pespective), aisle junctions. And then have the cluster fucking stalkers line up behind her, and I get to inform her she is blocking the aisle. As if she didn't know. She serves as the best excuse to slow me down in supermarkets and any other perp venue, as my normal (by myself) routine is that if I sense I am getting stalked I walk faster and/or get the fuck out of there ASAP.

I got the Penticton "come-from"behind" stalking treatment here in Victoria while at the gangstalk prone RB Market. I was at the mushrooms, a long standing  perp interest food, (more than most), and this blonde woman in yellow sneakers came up from behind and reaches out for something high up, her arm suddenly arriving in my peripheral  vision. My standard reaction to these personal space intrusions is to then move out of range entirely, and then of course, the stalker gets to occupy the very space that I stood upon in short order. I didn't get an "excuse me" out of  this asshole (but cute) blonde, which exactly replicates public shopping behavior that I first experienced in Penticton. Now it erupts here in Victoria. Not to mention that my peripheral vision gets tested, a long running perp Fuckover stunt. Naturally, she, and a regular retinue of stalkers crossed my path at least 3x each in this ridiculous gangstalk-athon that is my public life.

All a warm up for slinging compost this afternoon in my mother's back yard. The garden help (Farmworker Friend) hasn't been too diligent on cleaning up the yard as she is supposed to do, so I get to attend to cleaning up the organic debris field she leaves.

I am getting dithered in not getting this posted, so I will launch this anyhow, as I don't see getting this completed.