After the Lesson, the Blessing

I wrote this blog last Spring, while in the heat of the horrible moment.  Devastated by an argument with my step son, I simply could not see the forest through the trees.  There was never an apology rendered, but I have forgiven Bud and he knows this.  I like to call this phenomena Grace-but really I just did it for myself and my husband.

Dwain, interestingly enough, has not forgiven him.  Yet there have been great strides towards healing, and rather than trying to be his son’s best friend?  He has risen to the challenge of being a father, i.e. no more tolerating arrogance or disrespect.  I believe we are all closer as a result of his temporary insanity.

When God puts you to the test, and you pass with a combination of trusting His wisdom?  Oh my dear friends, this is when the miracle happens:  a peace that surpasses any understanding-inner joy and self love come out of hiding.  Often, the hard part is recognizing the blessing.  With practice and determination, you can take the gifts from above and pay it forward.   Grace abounds, indeed.


I have been having what some would call “hearing hallucinations,” and I know they are real, as real as the grass in the yard, the puffy clouds on the horizon, and the Spring peepers who cry out their mating call at this time of year.

Okay, how do I explain the inexplicable?  I’ll have to go back to the early days, circa 2013, after an incredibly stressful demolition of our church, by Christian Hypocrites who simply took over, spewed their venom and caused one of our pastors to turn to Atheism.  I was distraught over what I then thought to be the end of my life as I  knew it.  I got sober in this chapel, every single person knew my story and they showed me love and grace, not harsh ostracism.  The travesty is, we were beginning to do some amazing spiritual work……we were in sync, and you could feel the Holy Spirit-lifting us up and out of our day to day lives.  And then:  Kaput.

I began to experience a strange, but lovely thinning of the veil, if you will.  I began finding feathers in crazy places-different colors and hues.  I collected twenty of them and put them in a crystal glass.  No explanation for how they came to be in the middle of my bedroom floor; no cat toys missing pieces, no feathered anything to be blunt.  I did not realize they were feathers from the Angels at the time, no not until the last feather was gifted me:  a large, purple beauty, somehow I knew that this would be the last one, and it was.  I have brought these feathers to bedside vigils, to give others the hope of better days to come, when we are once again home, the complete and unwavering love of God, His mercy and forgiveness.

Shortly after the last feather appeared, I had been toying with the New Age.  I came out of that nightmare unscathed, but now things were getting downright eerie.  Five minutes before I was stalked by a half naked man, causing me horrible PTSD symptoms, I heard my angels wings.  So loudly, I turned around as I expected to see a Vulture, or other huge bird looking at me.  Instinctively, I knew what it was.  I believe I was guided by the heavenlies that day, and I have good reason:  the Conservation Officers were doing their annual trail checks that day, and I had the good fortune to run out of the woods and into the arms of the officer who took the case.

One day, I was absolutely driven to get up off my buttocks and take a picture of my back yard.  It was a dreary rainy day, and there was nothing to see…..but listen to myself I did.  As I brought the camera to my eyes, I saw 6 or 7 white crosses-along the garden plot.  If I took the camera away?  Nothing.  Each time I brought that camera into focus, I saw the white crosses, and I felt protected, if not a little shaky.

This picture was taken when I was nudged by the Holy Spirit to snap a pic in fog and drizzle.

Yesterday, while getting out of the shower, I heard those wings again.  I knew the angels wanted me to know they were with me, which scared the bejeepers out of me.  What now?  Why now?  I had to sit for a spell and calm myself down.

So, it is evening and my husband and I are preparing dinner.

“Honey, you know if you need to talk about the Bud (formerly known as my stepson) debacle, I know how much you’re hurting.  I want you to know that I am here for you, and if you need to vent, please do so.”

What he said next was so crazy making, so vile and putrid and everything that goes along with the loss of a child.

“I text him, last week.  I jacked him up and he said there will be no apology forthcoming.

No apology?  That man-child stood in my garage and screamed cruel and untrue things, called me a freak, told me the whole family thought I was a freak.  And, as it turned out, he was plenty pissed that I am on SSI, as “it’s not fair I have to pay for her income with my taxes.”`  He was this close to hitting me and when I went to go inside, he came after me and I just waited.  If he hit me, then I could go to court, get a Protection From Abuse-hey, I’ve suffered worse things, believe me.

I have made the decision that he is dead, dead to me for all intents and purposes.

You see, what seemed to irritate him most? That I had suffered CPTSD, and depression.  Apparently he thinks I made it all up; that after owning my own businesses and working (often two jobs at a time) for 40 years, I just decided, as if upon whim, to close shop, be lazy and ruin my husband’s life.  How could he be that cold?

And then the inevitable kick in my aching groin:  “Bud will be at mom’s for Easter, with his gal pal extraordinaire, the woman who was the icing on the cupcake of his disaster, the woman who so eagerly took what was not hers, her best friend’s boyfriend.  Don’t get me wrong, Bud is responsible for his own actions, but being the raging narcissist that he is?  He will never take accountability.  He ruined his own life and he should have thought about that before he let his penis do his thinking.  Sorry, I’m a bit rough around the edges today.

Father, forgive him, he knows not what he does.

She talks to angels, they call her out by her name.

Ten Days of Darkness

Oh my dear Snarky McAllister-how will I make it through the day without your wit?

Well, the Zombie Apocalypse is here folks. It will never be what [they] wanted-to create deadly bio-warfare via Covid19-but Trump turned it around on them, and the rats are running, every which way.

I wish I could tell you differently, as I have been in denial for days-hoping against hope that Ten Days of Darkness meant anything but the internet shutting down for ten days. Vincent Kennedy confirmed my worst fears today-and now I am relaying the news.

Once I get over the shock, I start thinking about the amazing opportunity we now have to get back to God, back to the things that matter. I can actually read a book, get into my gardening-even get closer to the man of my dreams. The possibilities are endless, and I need a serious break from the grim reality that is my research.

I have realized that my job here is not to awaken you; that realization came after seeing an anon speak on the matter. Those of us who know, who have known? We were chosen for a reason. We can handle the truth, but the fact is that we will be looking at hundreds of thousands of psychiatric and medical emergencies due to the nature of the news. When Trump speaks about all of the hospitals being built, the medical equipment coming in-he is speaking the truth. Throughout the country thousands of trained professionals will be facing unprecedented panic: they will need us when this is over.

There will be survivors of SRA and satanic cults-not to mention the children we have rescued from the deep underground military bunkers-many of them found in cages. This is it-and we as a nation have a choice in the matter. We can sulk and hide, throw the blankets over our heads? Or we can pray for all of the addicts, victims and children who will be facing a deprogramming from MK Ultra.

We can be the hands and feet of our spectacular Lord and Savior. We will live to see the glory of the risen Christ-at least that is my fervent prayer.

So, I was thinking about the word Glory. And as it so often happens to a Hippy Chic like myself-it reminded me of some pretty awesome music.

See you on the other side. 🙂

Rising he justified, freely forever-one day He’s coming. Oh Glorious Day.
Drinking and drugging won’t help. You are needed, please stay straight. 🙂

Public Enemy Number ONE

The gloves are going to have to come off. No matter the cost I must get the truth out to you and I’m going to ask you to do something I have never asked before: I want you to share this blog with everyone you know.

We are in the midst of a war of biblical proportions. This has nothing to do with a virus-and everything to do with a battle we know God will win. The mainstream media is finished, and I will be the first to say good riddance. The more of us awake? The better to fight this evil with everything in our mind, body and soul.

We all need to take a deep breath and come to terms with the reality that the times we are living in haven’t truly changed at all. We are at war against evil comparable to the times of ancient Babylon. There are ancient bloodlines, fallen angels and the fact that we are not the only people on this planet.

We have to put on our big boy pants my friends. We need to be vigilant in our mission to save humankind from the grasp of an elite so vile-well, it can and will break a person.

Those who know cannot sleep.

Everything that is hidden is about to be exposed. Project Mockingbird, the Hollywood/D.C. death cult who worship the Baphomet, take our children and yes, as hard as this is for me to say-torturing them in order to not only get high on Adrenochrome but as part of a satanic ritual. These “people” are not human. They are positively demons, and possibly reptilians. There are videos on the subject, and until I did extensive research I didn’t believe it myself. That is a topic for another day.

This is a go to channel. This is John F. Kennedy Jr.

There is literally no reason to panic. You are safe in your homes. The children depend on us all getting our acts together. We must awaken for their sake, time is of the essence.

Wrath of the Gods

In the following weeks you will see the spontaneous combustion of Hollywood. No one wants me to write this blog and I can tell you that at this juncture? I don’t give a mean fuck about what [they] think.

Scrolling through the list of infected stars I came across Ben Stiller. Shit. Then Melissa McCarthy. Shit. Shit. Shit.

But they thought we would follow the baby eating, death cult cabal-and as the world awakens the first are indeed the last.

Life has come full circle.

God will not be mocked.

The Pill Mill……….

When I was younger, I was appalled at how many pills my mother took.  She was extremely ill, emphysema, cancer, osteoporosis.  She died at 59, after the doctors mistook an ovarian cyst to be scar tissue.  I wish I had known then what I now know.  Mary Lou had every symptom of Ovarian cancer, the extreme bloating, constipation, pain and upset stomach.  When the doctor came in to the waiting room, I had to be held back by my siblings-the jerk never listened to her, I was there when he did an exam after her complaining: he felt her stomach and abdomen-she was fully clothed, why bother right? I was there when he told her she was “fine, absolutely fine.”

What shocked me, after her death, was the bottles and bottles of Ativan-she took 4 a day, and I thought that to be too much, too addicting, too sedating.  Now?  I take Ativan daily.  As a prn.  Ironically, the first time I ever took one was the day of her funeral.  Surrounded by friends, I fell asleep on the couch-and didn’t wake up until the following morning.  What addict is going to turn that away?  It was easier to let the melodic pull of oblivion take me away, to dreamless sleep and few cares, if any.

Today I take 200 mg. of Zoloft, 2 mg. Suboxyne for opiate addiction (down from 8 mg. and let me tell you, it was rough, really rough to taper) and one Trazadone for sleep.   My husband thinks this appalling, but I have fought hard to maintain an appearance of normality-in an increasingly abnormal world.

I can tell you that as a nurse, EMT and hospice worker, I could not get into the Suboxyne program soon enough.  I was in a dirty city, walking the streets of dilapidated houses, children in various stages of undress, and very scary men, who gathered on street corners to deal their goods, help a friend in “need.”  I asked a few of them, but as white on rice as I look?  They didn’t touch me with a ten foot pole.  Looking back, I think they thought me a cop.

I was working as a private duty nurse, and volunteering at a local hospice.  I was starting to face withdrawal from OxyContin, and I didn’t want to be the girl who steals patient’s pills.  My cousin by marriage (not a normal person in that family) ran a methadone clinic, and rehab.  I had attended that rehab until our fearless leader Tony called me out on missing a class, in front of the entire room.  When you quit drinking you are wired out of your mind, so many emotions coming from one heart-it’s maddening and exciting at the same time.  I told him off, asked why he allowed drinkers and cokeheads to use in our meetings (was this even remotely fair to the others who were serious about recovery?) and slammed out the door.  He wasn’t going to use me as an example when people were slumped in their chairs, or re-dusting the entire room, like the energizer bunny on crack.

Anyway, back to Scott.  I called him from my  locked car that very day.  I told him where I was, and I asked if I could come to the methadone clinic to talk to him.  He shut me down, but two minutes later?  I heard a commercial about Suboxyne: it has served me well, saved my career and, most likely, my life.  My advice to anyone starting the program?  Start at a really low milligram, that way you won’t have to detox every time you take a step down.  I ended up calling my girlfriend one morning, I literally couldn’t move, I was that weak.

“I can’t take it.  Would you please take me to the doctor?”

The good doctor had taken me off, cold turkey.  We had argued about my use of cannabis, and I stormed out-only to return a week later, begging for mercy.  And, thankfully, that is exactly what I was given.

What I would like to say is, don’t let anyone convince you to go off of any medication you may be taking for your mental health, especially if the plan is working.  Do I like having to take meds on a daily basis?  NO.  But one day, perhaps, the stigma will stop.  No  matter, because I have come to the point where I just don’t care what others think.

It’s not their body.  It’s not their mind.  It’s none of their business.

High as a Kite

Just beat my husband in a game of Urban Myth-if you don’t have it, get it, now. Lol. No, it’s not that good-but I cannot explain how deep my gratitude, how poignant my relief that we have settled into a lovely new normal. I have always loved nostalgia-my home is full of vintage jewelry, clothing and furniture. Antiques are everywhere-my parents bedroom suite, my grandmother’s golf clubs, granddad’s bow and arrow.

I have longed for a simpler life, almost leading toward Puritan beliefs. When I thought of heaven I just couldn’t imagine a place more suited to my needs.

But this IS Heaven Jesus.”

So many things are falling into place. Although the news is grim, those of us who know the truth also know that there is nothing to fear and that God will see us through this. I live in an Amish community, surrounded by the Mennonite population-last night Governor Wolf issued a Stay at Home order for Central Pennsylvania. Dwain and I sat fixated, waiting to see if there would be military ops in our neck of the woods.

We were the only county that had no such restriction.

What I’m saying is that God will protect you. He called you for such a time as this, and He alone can prepare you for the spiritual battle of a lifetime. I am almost looking forward to the Ten Days of Darkness spoken about by Q. While I am not remotely certain of anything-the rumor mill has it that the internet and cable system will be shut off in order to clean out any remnants of evil and to reboot the system with truth, fact and, unfortunately-it is said that there will be a GITMO television station featuring 24/7 testimony for the military tribunals. Evidence and proof for the citizens of America that Donald J. Trump not only cares for them, but that he fought a bloody war to bring us the very freedoms taken from our grasp. They took our children, our innocence-as if they were entitled to rape and pillage America.

My anger knows no bounds, I can tell you that. Yet I can’t unpack and live in a dark and angry space. Those of us who have CPTSD understand that by knowing the truth we are being triggered each and every day. This can and does cause rebound emotions-anxiety and fear playing a huge role. If you need help dealing with any of this information? Please contact the White House and they can lead you to professionals trained to help for this very time in our nation’s history.

So, getting back to simpler times and lazy Summer days. We have been given an unprecedented opportunity to stay in the comfort of our own homes, with the people we love most and get back to the way things were, the way God meant them to be. Giving up the internet opens the door to new routines that mean something: gardening, baking, and living off of the grid. There will be canning, and I will learn to knit-maybe even buy a sheep or two to go with my goats and chickens.

The possibilities are endless.

We only need to trust our heavenly Father. Easter will be glorious~

Stop Acting Crazy

This man is not only my lifelong crush, but a genius as well. David Byrne! Marry Me!

Ah, the lovely #ImpeachmentHoax-as if America-the world!-hasn’t suffered enough. Watching that clown is so distressing to me I can only handle it for milliseconds at a time. My Gawd! Put your eyes back in your head, Adam. Really, so inappropriate!

The Nancy Pelosi voice, it kills me every time.

If America wasn’t pissed off enough, the lying, corruption, murderous pedophiles, oh it’s all too much! Ever since our duly elected president has been in office we have had to deal with these insufferable, albeit hilarious clowns. When the country awakens to the reality that their entire lives were basically a mirage? Oh, please. The media is nervous, the democrats are hysterical, and the increase of suicide rates in Hollywood tell me they know something’s up. Their hours are numbered, the “days” ship has sailed.

They don’t hate our beloved @POTUS. They hate US.

In other news, the veil is thinning to the point that my dog and I shot thirty feet out of our sneakers after one of my cat’s tunnel toys came to life last evening. I was chopping beef, and the noise startled us badly. I assumed one of my four indoor cats was playing-and when I bent down to tickle the feline? Nothing, and I mean nothing was there.

I tell my husband this as he enters the kitchen.

“Great. Just effing fantastic.”

Poor Dwain gets spooked very easily, which cracks me up because he isn’t afraid of anything. I have literally stood behind our front door, literally wheezing at the thought of scaring the bejeepers out of him and despite my best intentions? Not once did I come close.

He has zero startle response, but when it comes to the paranormal or spiritual warfare? He absolutely hates it. There are reasons for his terror: for the past three years I have been on a spiritual journey that has granted me access to the other side. I don’t know how else to explain it. Dwain has seen things man, and let’s just say he would rather unsee them.

He can watch IT repeatedly but if I pray out loud he runs.

Check out some of my older blogs in which I describe his terror in detail.

Back to the story. When I realized that it was one of my “experiences,” I felt an unease. Pets have shown up here, and even the science will tell you that we are in the midst of a great awakening-but something was off. God took the spirit of fear from me not long ago, but I wondered…

I walked upstairs to grab a sweater. As I entered my bedroom I stopped dead in my tracks. All four cats were freaking out-mewing, running, and each of four was strategically placed in a circle, as if they were trying to corner something.

I had read about cats warding off demons, but I had never, ever seen my cats in this state. I looked at the pup, and then I looked up.


I reminded myself of exactly whom I was in Christ. I threw my head back and roared.

The WordPress Blues

I would like to apologize for my earlier rant, which has been deleted. I am burned out, as we all are. For those of you who are targeted individuals, you understand my speak. As a matter of fact, WordPress is trying a new tactic to stifle me, and that is to have my video above flash on and off. Why? Because the Illuminati fucks with the heads of the truth tellers, the modern day prophets who give up their time and energy to inform the masses-we are a sorry lot, but we will prevail because the glory of it all goes to God.

I hate a whiner, and I spent the entire time allotment with Jesus begging His forgiveness, as I had also had bitched about my inability to find sheds thus far, even after praying. This even though I won’t find any bone in these parts-I’m telling you-not only is our DNA changing? The animals are trying to tell us something as well. Ever since I witnessed a herd of squirrels running in the same direction two months ago-let’s just say God may be trying to speak to us as well.

Anyhooser, after our conversation, the Prince of Peace and I decided that I best not stop writing. I don’t want to give the enemy anything to celebrate.


One of my favorites

When I asked J yesterday why I felt so angry, so anxious and emotional-he said the smartest thing.

Because this has never happened before. There is no precedent.”

What began as a great day in the woods turned to angst I hadn’t experienced in eons. Men get frightened when their women are upset, and my husband is a classic example of this stereotype. He sensed my mood and lashed out-there is such fear in the unknown. That’s a part of what I was feeling. I couldn’t feel Jesus, for only moments yet unbearable, each breath.

Finally, as if a last resort, I turned to my bestest forever friend. Explained I wasn’t upset, had not one complaint-but I needed His help understanding what was really going on, underneath it all. Instantly the puzzle pieces came together. Due to my PTSD, I have an incredible amount of anxiety-even on a good day. This isn’t bothersome because frankly? I get a lot done in a day’s time. I have a cold, and don’t have near the energy. I can’t do because I can’t summon the energy.

Have you seen the painting The Silent Scream? That perfectly describes the feverish compulsion to break free of our own minds-to stop the constant dialogue that drives the demons. I learned early on how to comfort myself, but like J said-these times are unprecedented. The triggers come from every direction, mercilessly haunting my every move. Like Sylvia Plath I feel her mood in The Bell Jar-and if you have never read her? Let me just say that isn’t where someone with a history of mental health issues wants to be.

So humor has saved the day, for now.

I am quieted by laughing until it hurts. I am once again at peace.

Posting this again as a reminder to laugh until it hurts.

The Cabal Fall Down

Folks, I want to preface this blog by asking that you do your own research. I am seeing so many vloggers, bloggers and Twatters-some that I have followed for years-put out faulty and even dangerous information as of late. It angers me beyond the point of reason-many of these so called Patriots are raking it in-and they’ll do anything to get you to notice them; including clickbait, which I find absolutely deplorable.

Speaking of Deplorables-Trump has ended the mainstream media. Rachel Madcow crying, on live television, was worth the wait. The very same asshats who screamed ORANGE MAN BAD are the ones who have something to hide-and trust me, it ain’t good.

It is my staunch opinion that these are the end of days under the festering, murderous regime of literal vampires who stalk their prey right out in the open, as if they are untouchable. Believe me when I say their days are numbered. Tom Hanks, Ellen DeGeneres, Madonna, Courtney Cox and even Julia Louise Dreyfus-you can see them on Twitter, disheveled and withdrawing from Adrenochrome. Harrowing I know, but let’s look at this from a sane perspective.

I am not trying to frighten you, that is the last thing I want to do. Fear is a liar, and it will get you nowhere fast. The best thing you can do right now is have faith that we are in a biblical time in which God is wiping evil off of the face of the earth. You are safe in your homes. God is using this to turn his children to Christ. The Plan ( has been in place for years. Trust Donald J. Trump, trust the military. They will not let us down, this I know for sure.

So what can you do? I am getting my house in order, literally. Cleaning and organizing gives you a sense of control-desperately needed in times such as these. Check in on your elderly neighbors and family, reassure them with the knowledge you have gained-ask of their needs, and play nice with others. I have seen some ugly things over the past week, and although I put myself in the middle of more than an argument or two? I am now focusing on loving the crud out of people who appear to be unlovable. The general population (especially the normies) are frightened. Fear is often hidden by anger-you know how you felt when you first woke up-lost at sea. Find a way to love and comfort those around you.

Americans are overworked, overscheduled and exhausted. Here are a few ideas to help you keep hope alive.

  • Play outdoors. Not only will this give you a much needed break from stress, the oxygen the trees and fauna give off are rejuvenating.
  • Break the rules-eat that donut, take an extra piece of pie-go for the shot of tequila. Not every day but some days. A little self indulgence is liberating.
  • Journal-you’re living in the most amazing time in the history of the world-next to Jesus’ overcoming the grave. Beautiful things are happening all around us-perhaps a gratitude journal? It helps us to see just how well God has provided for us.
  • Reignite your sense of humor-playful people have more resilience.
  • Do nothing. We are not meant for unrelenting stressors. The very act of doing nothing is important.
  • Activate your vagus nerve-the key to calming down. The vagus is the longest of the 12 nerve fibers emanating from the brain. A cheap way to do this is by cold-water face immersion. This reduces your heart rate and blood pressure.
  • Take a hike! Pay attention to God’s creation wherever you are-refigure your relationship to everything around you.
  • Learn a new skill. Always wanted to learn a new language? Paint? Each time we acquire a new skill we strengthen our brains.
  • Get more sleep! According to a new Gallup pole, 40% of Americans report getting less than the recommended 7 hours per night. You may just see a dramatic difference in your physical abilities in three to four years.
  • Emotionally connect with family and friends. Mood follows action. Call an old comrade, send a cheery note to your great Aunt Jane-you get the drift.
  • Get your hands dirty. Exposure to biodiverse soil is good for your microbiome-scientists correlate this with improved mood and sleep.
  • Ask your physician about CBD oil for anxiety. Be wary if a product claims to cure anything-you may be eligible for a prescription for medical marijuana if you have one of several medical conditions. I was diagnosed with CPTSD-there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to wax profane on its ability to help me cope.
  • Focus on one thing, one day at a time. Multitasking is a myth-it simply doesn’t work.
  • Want to relax? Learn how to knit. There are many websites devoted to teaching skills we never had the time to learn before.
  • Try Tai Chi-again, a marvelous way to center yourself.
  • Plan a dream vacation. You may not be able to book it, but the dream of better days ahead is a panacea to the soul.

And last but never least-pray. Read the Psalms, the New Testament, any scripture you find brings you solace.

Read Psalm 91-not only my favorite, but a Psalm for miracles-

For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.