NO! You're not over-blogging the subject - the one that preys on everybody's mind, but nobody wants

to be for-real about it.  So much fakey-ness comes out, whenever that f-word (finances) is even sort-of mentioned.  Like the old guy or gal who claims he or she enjoys (getting up at 5 am and driving through winter muck) standing for hours on end ringing up/bagging people's groceries, because retirement gets boring.  Sure, retirement is bound to get boring...happens when you don't have the extra money to buy craft/gardening/travel/gift items.  Happens when your fixed income is barely enough to fix things.  Not retired yet, would like to be, but it's not happening for awhile.  Taka good guess why.  

Anyway, the saturna-stickup is (thankfully) behind us.  Not exactly my favorite time of year...bah-humbug, you betcha!  Saw a picture of a friend's beautiful Christmas tree - and what was really nice was, the oodles of packages surrounding it.  And yeah, the green covetous creecher was fixing to invade my space, but the practical side posed a reminder...you know what appears in mailboxes later this month.  Uh, thanks but no thanks.  

Been there, done that.  One year, when the flowers were blooming and the birdie-birds were singing, was still paying for the previous saturna.  

Preecher-creechers everywhere. And then, here and there, are a few for-real pastors. Just read a post that so resonated.

A pastor, who's ministry is basically focused on abuse-victims - he had been a police-officer back in the day - knows from personal experience...well, evidently, alot of things.  In his early years as a preacher, he had been the victim of financial abuse.  That's hard to fathom...ya know, a guy that had been a cop, cops have heard about every lie told under the sun.  "But officer, I didn't see the sign, I didn't do it..." bla-bla-bla.  Anyway, he had been messed over, not by antifa, but in the church.  The board at the time, basically didn't want to pay him a wage that allowed him and his family to afford decent hamburger.  "Don't muzzle the ox that treads out the corn."  That's in the Bible somewhere.

We could say, "gedda job."  Thing is, being a pastor IS  a full-time job, and then some.  By the way, you won't hear him telling people - who are about to have their electric shut off - to tithe up.  Okay, that said.  Anyway, being a Pastor means visiting/helping people (the leg-work in rounding up a few guys/materials to put a roof on Carl's house, because there's no way the old guy can afford to call RufersAreUs) studying Scripture, writing sermons.  Some preachers preach/teach Sunday nights and wednesday - not so much nowadays...and today's society is a train-wreck???

Evidently, my pastor knows another pastor who had been kept poor by muzzlers.  A few years ago, Pastor had gotten in contact with this old pastor...wanna talk about retirement-hell??  The man and his wife are living in some rickety little 5-wheel trailer.  i wasn't there, and don't know the man, but i know that Pastor was upset.

So how does that "be fruitful and multiply" decree work? For sure, no way around it - law of first mention, and it's right there on like page two.

But what about overpopulation, and under provisioning?  Thought about this for awhile.  Let's say that America has always been largely a for-real Christian nation.  Would not our population be, like, 500 million by this time - with so many one-paycheck patriarchal families with like four kids?  How on earth would that pan out, space-wise?   i don't have the answers, but i know that if you fell in a slushy mud puddle - while hailing a taxi - and ruined your good coat, you'd get the thing dry-cleaned, and it would now be your winter yard-work coat.  You'd then head over to Macy's and look for another coat.  

Macy's would be a very different store; they'd have quality classic coats for everybody - fat, skinny, young and old.  No weirdoid stuff.  Yeah, an adult's coat would cost twice as much - because they'd be made here in the US, by textile workers, making a livable wage, and provided health and retirement benefits, and be able to accrue paid personal/sick days.  So yeah, that coat - with real buttons, and enough of 'em, instead of cheezoid zippers/snaps (that just won't after two seasons) - anyway, that coat would run about $600.  But here's the deal - unless you had another mishap - the thing would still look good decades down the road.

Same thing with anything else you needed to buy.  While the shopping malls would be crowded - in a nation of some 1/2 a billion souls - landfills would take up minimal space.  We wouldn't be throwing away stuff - things like furniture, curtains, kitchenware would be quality, and would last, and be passed onto the next generation.  

In a for-real Christian nation, there would be some wealthy people who would want new stuff every two or three years; what wouldn't get passed on, would go to a second-hand store.  While poverty would be minimal, poor people would be able to have decent clothing and furniture - yeah, a dent here and a fray there, but nothing like today's threadbare tinny crap that poor people have no other option but to put up with.

Break's soon over.

Well, i feel better, the walkway is shoveled out, and so is the passanger side

of the truck.  Aside of a few hums of machinery, it's so quiet.  Anyway, taking another short blog-break, before continuing to shovel out the truck - car will have to wait, needs new tires anyway, which i'll get come spring.  

Had a bright idea this morning.  While at the hardware store last week, think i saw they have 12 or 14 foot A-ladders.  Cool!  Think that could work for getting some of the snow off the edge of the flat roof.  But for this time, had made the call, on Monday, to the professionals.  Sure, it will cost money, but that's what money is for.

Anyway, back to work, want to get as much shoveling done as soon as possible.  The snow gets heavy if you let it lay too long, and besides, what will the neighbors think?

Ps, it's 11:30, shoveling is done.  So thankful, we only got 8-some, instead of 18-some.

It's 7 am and have been snoveling show ;) since 6 am. Time for an actual break...not 35 anymore. Anyway, want to post about narcs and snow shoveling.

First off, had read that a foot of average snow (not real wet and not real dry) = an inch of rain.  Want to share a short account of someone who was married to a narcish type of person - no, i don't have a fancy degree, but if it looks like a duck ...  Okay here goes, because i wanna get back to shoveling. 

The wife, being a for-real person, of course, would pitch in and actually shovel.  There was alot of snow, like what's outside - a foot of wet snow - so, wanting to get done as soon as possible...uh, because, guess the woman (who, of course, held down a full-time job) also had 2nd-shift things to do in the house - ya know, like laundry to put in the dryer, dishes to put away, floors to mop, a hem to mend...those things.

Well, as typically overwhelmed as she was, evidently, she deposited the heavy snow at the nearest place.  That nearest place was right by the house (they were doing the walkway).  Holy moly, narc barked, like she was fixing to torch the place.

Sure throws a cold wet blanket on a shovel party ;/  

Twelve inches of snow = one inch of rain.  Now, doing the math (which perhaps was a bit much for narcoid) add a shovelful to that foot.  So, eighteen inches = one and a half inches of rain.  Guess what!  Rainstorms like that happen atleast several times in the spring and summer.

Ya know, if narcoid was so blasted concerned about, i guess, a wet basement, than why the heck didn't narcoid contract for some decent spouting?  The dude didn't have a bass-boat, but evidently had some other vanity.

That was an interesting conversion, shared with some co-workers about working from home.

Being a widow, didn't think about...well, alot of things.  One of my co-workers, working from home, also has a husband and children.  So, everybody's on-line.  She was talking space issues - and today's smaller families want dry wall?  (A judgy comment from, basically, one of the quiver-full - jam 'em all within 1200 square feet...gross ;/ anyway...)  Computers take space, and so does working from home; she and her husband had bought the house prior to the current psy-ops, and now realize, their family could use more space.

But there's another issue.  Yea, here we go with the right-wing conspiracy theories again.  You betcha!  Anyway, my co-worker - being a mom - even though the family was at home working and schooling - had expressed disapproval at the revealing clothing her daughter was wearing.  Well, mom forgot that daughter-dear was in class.  So, this working/schooling from home...what another great idea for the powers-that-be to nose in on people's business.  In other words, what you blurt out in your own home...oh yikes, what if you say (in private) that you just flat out don't like people who drive orange cars and wear green sneakers?

Yeah i realize, the powers-that-be, have the means to horn in on everything going on in this room, this house, where i am currently posting this blog-entry.  Need to put on my list, to stop at the card shop (when the blizzard's past) and buy a top-end sympathy card for whatever human or robot, or combination thereof, who is tasked to nose in on what goes on within the boundaries of my property.  Ya know, one of those fancy cards that play a somewhat overly sweet tune, as soon as you open the beautifully written card.  Yeah, one with a big vase of pretty flowers, too ;)  Oh, and i need to swing by the donut shop for a gift-card for their terrific coffee, to put inside.

That was funny...in a sermon, from a real preacher (they're few and far between,

but they're out there).  Anyway, it was a sort of God-helps-those-who-help-themselves situation.  Back in the day, the preacher was driving along one night, and had a blow out.  Evidently, wasn't the first time.  He prayed to the Lord to get him out of this jam.  And the still small voice of the Lord answers, along the lines of: quit driving on may-pops; buy yourself some (real) tires.

Old people can be so doggone annoying - sitting (uh ;/) pretty in their paid-for vaca homes,

demanding, like petty tyrants, that everyone avoid everyone else.  Well, that results in businesses going under, jobs disappearing, rents and mortgages going late...  Yeah, not the boomers' problem.  It's easy, real easy, for old-fart boomers to dictate to the young people not to throw even medium-sized parties (even if they can afford it - please see above), let alone the BIG crowded parties, boomers still glory at each other, and - ugh - anyone within farce-bluuck shot.

Have heard it said - long before the recent psy-ops - that there's old people who are just plain resentful against the young, because the young are as they are: good looking and energetic - while the old are past-tense.  Hey, such as life;  deal with it.

My heart continually goes out to the young.  The young want to go to lots of different places, do different things, and meet lots of different people.  And it's really selfish of the has-beens to want to rob young people of - not only their jobs - but their very youth.

Just a few more Scriptures that get glossed over - huh, if even preached.

"But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men."

Matthew 15:9

"But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men : for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in."

Matthew 23:13

"For their pastors are become brutish, and have not sought the LORD : therefore they shall not prosper,  and all their flocks shall be scattered."

Jeremiah 10:21

"I have not sent these prophets, yet they ran : I have not spoken to them, yet they prophesied."

Jeremiah 23:21

Even poor americans live better than kings of old. STOP IT! That's such manipulative bull crap! Kings of old,

even kings of 3rd rate nations, lived in spacious rooms - not crampy dingy apartments.  Kings had atleast several changes of warm clean clothing, that fit properly - all the buttons, were there, and they matched.  Kings had people and space to wash and maintain their clothing - there was a long wash-line out behind the palace. 

Wash-lines are against the (many) rules in apartment complexes - washer and dryer on the ground floor will run about $4, but the $5 and change you have is for bus-fare (monthly pass ran out), to get to your minimum-wage job.  A drying rack put in the shower might work...oh wait, your roommate needs to get ready for his minimum-wage job - and anyway, wally-world has metal drying-racks for only $35 dollars, but where's that going to come from; rent's coming due, your half is $503 and you're some $70-ish short.

Kings, even the 3rd rate ones, had reliable transportation; kings didn't stand in the cold - in not-that-warm clothing - waiting for a bus.  Kings had the option to simply stay inside when the weather got nasty.  Oh, and their rooms had enough heat - sure, palaces were drafty, but they also had fireplaces, and people to bring in wood, take out ash.

Kings ate steak, even for breakfast, kings didn't have to scrounge around almost bare cupboards, looking for something other than ramen noodles - or whatever dented foodbank castoff.

So, please stop with the guilt-games already.  Struggling americans have more than enough crap on their plates.

Before my shift starts, have listened to more than several sermons, putting down the smart-phones.

Chalking down the people who use them, as a bunch of money-wasting hedonists.  Oh here comes the cynicism:  yeah, jack, you want that money...to fund that upcoming (so-called) mission-trip to wherever.  

If it wasn't for the smart phone, i would not know half the Scriptures, that i've heard preached, from the pulpits of real preachers, who really care about saving souls.  Yeah, i know, real preachers are few and far between, but they're out there, in churches here and there in the US and other (English-speaking) countries.  

If it wasn't for the smart-phone, i wouldn't have had the opportunity to have read some of Charles Spurgeon's sermons, while on the bus.  Btw, while having read, over a year or so, what had struck me most about these 150-some year old sermons was, it was like he had written them just last Tuesday.  Oh, and having had read more than a few, i do not recall even ONE trolling for money.  Nope, Spurgeon was way more concerned about people getting saved, and reading their Bibles - guess he figured the Lord would deal with the rest. 

Well, shift is starting.  Bye ;)

A real sermon, on what really goes through the minds of real people who've been messed over.

Please see sidebar.  

So many, too many, sermons are preached somewhere from la-la land - uh, could be one reason why my girlfriend's boyfriend walked away from enforced sunday and wednesday church attendance, as soon as he reached early adulthood.  Btw, he knows Scripture after Scripture.  You start a Scripture?  He can finish it.  And he's been so done with it, for so long.  

Anyway, yeah the sermon starts off with about four hymns.  Pastor Cooley - who preaches from a real church, made of real building materials - has a thing about music.  He was once into rock - which he wants no parts off that rubbish (yay Cooley) - and feels led by the Lord to start off with some Godly music.

About ten minutes into the recording, the sermon starts.  Christian or not christian, when you're messed over, it takes a long time - if not a lifetime - to get over the mistrust...of everybody, the cynicism, the critical spirit, the anger, the general mental trauma.  

Most preachers will not touch this area.  This same area, where most people have either been or will be - atleast once in their lives.  Most preachers think that, because we don't live in china or iran, we're just nothing but spoiled rich kids, who have no problems, and who should (just shut up and) put 20% in the plate - not just 10%, before taxes.  And, Jack, you don't really need to stop at qwik-way each morning for that coffee - that's about $10 weekly, $40 monthly, $520 yearly.  Yes, i did hear a sermon telling people, they don't need their morning coffee...dem hedonists.

In short, for-real preaching that helps for-real people, is rare.

Visit to the so-called best department store in the area. The unwritten, but clear message of the tags read,

"We don't want your kind around here."  In other words, statistically, the average woman.  And statistically, it's the old broads (boomers) who are actually able to afford that winter coat.  Wouldn't have anything to do, with the last winter coat - and a good one, at that - having been puchased, uhmm...years ago, would it?  Anyway, store wanted a few hundred... yeah, overpriced, and skimpy on the buttons - way of worldlings, way of pervs who design the stuff, (and have for decades)  hate women - especially older women - with. a. vengeance.  Needed a pair of gloves and something else - needed, which is why i'm not in eyeball debt - and went to find a checkout.

Left the store and looked for the mall directory, thinking perhaps, there might be a nice full-length, button-down coat for an average woman - yeah i know, silly me at a certain other sorta-better store.  Needless to say, the other store is no longer there.  Being old, also looked for a restroom that used to be near the directory, but they are now located in one place - the other end, by the food court.  Ya know, had there been any decent stores up that way...but there weren't - just Disney fluff and all, luring people to buy things, they neither need, for which the bills will continue into spring.

Left the mall and headed home.

Meanwhile, back at the little town of Gilead, along Stepford street.

Nah, don't think some of the neighbors like me much.  Oh well, life goes on ;)  Anyway, and no, don't want to sow discord, but doggoneit, what am i supposed to do? just sit placidly with my thump up my...nose while young ladies are possibly (and i fear, probably) are being fed slow-acting koolaid?  Which, by the way, may not likely take any effect for another twenty to thirty years.  And then, whamo!

Ya know, just when it's (borderline) too late to cultivate a sustainable vocation, and almost definitely too late ... the wall principle.

Mrs.Whatzerface, that old biddy, smugly shaking her chidey little beak at the young wife next door.  Uh, for no better reason, than, well the girl likes to read, after she gets her work done.  Well, evidently, that's not good enough for Whatzerface...and frankly, wouldn't be a bit surprised if Whatzer was a red-pill popping wolf - posing as an older woman teaching a younger.  By the way, young does not always equal naive (dumb) - and ya wonder why there's young women who simply don't want to hear it from has-beens (who, perhaps, never were - and are a tad discontented about that).  

Wasn't the first time i saw wolf tracks or smelled wolf-poop around these parts - guess it won't be the last time, either.  

That time of year, again - the Saturna Stick-up. Peer-pressure is on,

to put hundreds of dollars on the plastic.  Why?  In hopes of gaining approval from various (plastic) people.  That's why.   If there's one advantage to covid, it's there won't be quite as many hands out, begging/expecting you to shell out money - money, for which you get up each morning and go to your job - the one you chose to do, and stay on in. 

Have to give an extra tip to this person, and to that person...uh, no i don't ;)   Haven't been inside a restaurant since last February, nor have been inside a bar since around September or early October of 2018 - and i miss bars and restaurants about as much as  i miss having $10 to get to Friday - and it's Wednesday.  

Where is it written that we are commanded to go gadding about, spending money that we might not really have?  Stat i read somewhere - don't know if it's accurate, but i'll bet it mostly is.  Anyway, nearly half the people retiring are doing so with less than 10k in savings.  Does that include burial money?  Oh, i don't know...eh, maybe that explains all th' crispy-critterin' goin' on these days.

Anyway, it's real easy to judge someone for retiring early, but there could be reasons.  Some jobs are physically demanding - like standing on a cement floor, in front of a cash register for several hours; that business can draw on a(n older) person's back.  Some jobs have the built-in benefit of an ergonomic chair, desk and keyboard, but by 5pm in December it's dark...and transporter beams are still the stuff of star trek.

How did our grandparents manage?  Uh, many didn't...didn't live to see their 60th, let alone, 65th birthday.  

All's i know is, there's really good reason to buck up and push back against the annual Saturna Shakedown.  Years down the road, when ya can't work - or atleast work steady - are those people you spent lots of money on, over the years, gonna float you a $20, so you can put gas in your car and be able to keep that dentist appointment?

Wouldn't count on it.

My mother-in-law was like that.   She'd shell out money on showers, graduations, birthdays, (what. a. heist!) and whatever other gimmee-fests making the rounds.  When she died, her three children split up her burial bill; yep, you guessed it, no savings, no life insurance.  Was a nice funeral, not extravagant, but nothing cheapoid about it either - some ten years ago, the total bill was 11k.  

Doggonit, i think Lisa W., a big-whig in these parts, and i went to grade-school together.

The lady even looks like she may be the same person.  But i won't ask, because if she is the same Lisa, then she is using her maiden name.  She might be a bit sensative about that.  Ya know how it goes:  if a woman was never married, then she is reproached as being a left-over - for what?  The great crime of, perhaps being...eh, being a bit homely - but for all we know, she may have been a looker 30 years - and 30 pounds - ago.  Personally, i don't know - last time i saw Lisa was ... wait, it was 1974, she had taken an after-school job.  She looked like the average 16 year old girl.  But there had been a competence about her - taking seriously that menial job.  And, all these years later, (if it's the same person - and i believe so) wudja lookit where she is now!   Yay Lisa, you go girl!

Oh, i don't know, maybe she was married...and it didn't last.  Ya know, one of those smart women, who married a few too many points below her intelligence quotient  - as in, the title of that book that came out, back in the 80s or 90s.  Think the title was, "Smart Women, Foolish Choices."  Not sure, and didn't read it, anyway - think the book was less focused on IQ stats, and more focused on common courtesy, decency, and work-ethic...well, more like, lack of.  In short: smart women are women too - and they want a man's love, a home, and a few kiddos too.  Yep, asking for the moon ;/

Oh brother, another gray divorce, to happen in early 2021. A family-member of a lady at work,

was saying, the couple had been married for about 25 years.  And taka good guess what broke the covenant!  Yep, pee-wee was caught with a piece of take-out chicken.  So, here wifey - if she wants to keep the house, will have to get a mortgage for half its value.

Ee-yep, wifey wasn't the one who stepped out, and she's being punished - at early 50-something - with a what?  Like a fifteen (count 'em) year mortgage - cha-ching!  That's what.  Why, she'll be about in her early 60s before the thing's paid off - hopefully, she has a good job, and can get that out of her hair, alot sooner.  

It's a really good idea to have atleast some savings for later life.  In fifteen years, social security pensions may be getting cut by about 15 or 20% - their information tells ya, the laws can change (for the worse) from budget to budget.  

Sad to say, but it's a really, really good idea for women to have marketable skills - to atleast have documented experience with excel and word - better yet: a college degree - because you never know, things change, people change.

Sounds feministic?  Maybe!  But here's the reality:  as annoying as feminists can be, feminists are well aware of how things can, and do, go in the world-as-is - as opposed to the world as-wished-for.

The 1700 to 1900 blocks along Gilead's Stepford Street, appears to be a nice neighborhood.

Ya know, the sort of place where, if you leave your car unlocked, you don't have to worry overmuch that someone will steal the package (it's just wiper blades and two bottles of motor-oil) sitting on the front seat - or your car (mine's a clunker, but anyway...).  Nice neighborhood, the white picket-fenced (some are little pink) houses and yards are well maintained - but appearances can, and often are, deceptive.

While material crimes are low, in this quiet church-going, Bible-reading community, this very neighborhood is, and has been, targeted by thieves.  Crooks far more wicked than some random JimmyCrackhead looking to fence gram's silver tea-service or uncle Bob's gold watch.  But, Stepford Street has more of its share (just ONE is waay enough) of potential, if not actual, soul thieves.

Yeah i know, hard to get your head around that reality - but, hey, i didn't grow up here.  Thing is: go ask more than a few of the long-time residents, and they'll look at you funny.  Ya know, NIMC - not in my church!  Uh, 'fraid so - was happening back in Bible days, and is going to wax worse.

And yeah, i get it - though am still rather new to the (Christian) community, and will probably never really fit in - the quiver-full neighbors, their submissive keeping-at-home wives, are only trying to do right, obey the Lord's commands.  Having lived, most my life in...eh, not the best of neighborhoods, have encountered some wolves.

And guess what!  Those nasties don't all hang out in bars.  The worst of 'em don't even touch booze or listen to rock music.  Nope, they go to church, and like know the entire Bible, and use the Scriptures to. th. max...wresting their families all out of shape.  i know this goes on, didn't just fall off the melon truck! 

Per a link on one of the boomer blogs, the numbers of covid

cases aren't much different than they were in April.  About 4 to 5% of the US population is - or had been - down with it, and the hospitalization stat is around .1%.  In other words, this is not the bubonic plague.  And sure, it's only common courtesy to don a mask, where the store-front sign says to do so before entering - Mac's auto parts, Mac's rules.  Refuse to mask?  Then buy your wiper blades elsewhere.  

Anyway, back in pre-covid times, the flu would make the rounds, every fall and spring.  We didn't mask, but some of us - who had decent bosses, and work situations, would call off when down with the flu.  That's the blessing about working somewhere, where employees have the benefit, the opportunity, the choice to save up their sick/personal leave, instead of blowing it on yet another plastic-funded casino/road-trip.   Nope, did without the vanity-fair runs, and so when the flu found me, i was able to stay home, and not have to bring that grossness to work.  

Have to laugh, looking back, recalling that boss-lady downstairs.  "Earn and burn, then they get mad at us."  Where i work, if you blow through your leave, and cannot qualify under that medical protection law - where you need a physician's signature - if you have no leave, and take off anyway, you could end up fired.  

That happened to a woman who was like a second-level supervisor - she had gotten into some weird stuff, and had like witchiepoo tattoos on her arms.  Still shocks me, somewhat, i expect such weirdness amongst low-level employees (like me) but not among the higher ups.  What gives!  Sign of the times, i guess.

Uh, boomers at it again - ya know, the new-agey be-filled-be-warm mantra - and be-th-eff-oudda-my-face.

Sitting back, smugly collecting a sizable geriatric-welfare check, while preeeching at young/er people - whose workplace door has been coldly, rudely, slammed in their face - to just, oh, put on their big-girl pants (gag me with a spoon) and seek open/ing doors.  Good luck with that, because - thanks to the current psy-op (covid-19) - there's significantly more closing doors than doors opening.  The old bag went on, that draftees had their careers put on hold, or destroyed.

And she's right.  Except for one iddy-biddy detail.  Men who were drafted, were barely old enough to have worked five years - the minimum needed to qualify for the company's retirement plan.  Btw, back then, one shure-fire, but face-saving, way to get out of the draft/get a mile-long deferment  was to get your girlfriend pregnant and marry her.  

Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!  There you are, barely 19 or 20, and barely able to provide for yourself - much less, a wife and a baby on the way.   Things were different fifty-some years ago.  It wasn't like a man could just farm his pregnant wife off to work somewhere.  Back then, gubment wasn't so big - an employer was free to not hire a pregnant woman, if he (or she) didn't want to.  Applications had - and i remember this - right at the top, marital status boxes.  During the mid 70s, at a particular flower shop, were five of such boxes - Single, Engaged, Married, Widowed, Divorced.