Snow and ICE

I'm one of the many people living in the path of Winter Storm Fern.  That name makes me picture the little girl from Charlotte's Web merged with Old Man Winter.  Which is funny.  The rest of it, not so much. Most of the worrying I see people doing has to do with snow.  How many inches of snow are we getting?  Get the plows out onto the roads.  

I'm concerned about power outages.  I have food that doesn't need cooked.  I have means of communication with the outside world, at least for a while. I have plenty to do, even after the computer battery dies, given my plethora of books and Barbies.  But the temperature outside is 19F.  Without my furnace, it would get really cold in here really fast. That scares me.

Oh, I've got places I can go (provided they have power).  I've got a million blankets I can pile on the bed and burrow into.  I've got ointments and ibuprofen for my aching joints.  But I do not do well with temperature extremes and these are forecast to stick around for at least a week.  I'd rather have six feet of snow.  

****

Also on my mind is ICE.  Immigration and Customs Enforcement.  We've all seen the news, so I won't rehash it here.  Except to summarize the problem: This agency, which did its job within the law during previous administrations, has become a threat to life and liberty.  I've been quite vocal for the past year, educating people about Due Process and how it is not just for citizens and/or legal immigrants.  The Constitution is clear.

This is not just my opinion, as I've been told.  The Supreme Court has spoken on the subject.  Besides, it's just plain common sense.  Due Process is how they find out if you're in the country legally.  

I have at least one family member who has taken to keeping their birth certificate on them at all times.  Proof of citizenship.  I worry that ICE will not let them show the paper, or will declare it a forgery.  (Show us your papers, you runaway slave.)  I worry that if they reach for the papers, they'll get killed. (We thought they were going for a gun.) 

I also have family members who defend ICE's overreach. I blocked one of them on FB because I am many things, but I am not "clueless" or "stupid". The most ridiculous is the fact that I've explained Due Process repeatedly to a veteran, a man that took an oath to defend the Constitution. 

 

Marketing vs Mental Health

 I've been seeing a lot lately on Facebook about how to market my books.  There are even posts from a group for those of us who published via kdp.  A few years ago, before I was even published, I was scolded for weeding out my FB friends list because, as a writer, my first priority should always be getting readers.  

My mental health is my priority.  I weed out my FB friends periodically because it becomes overwhelming.  After the incident mentioned (and other accusations of bidding for attention) I no longer give a heads-up.  The boundary remains and if someone wants to get upset about it, that's on them.

I don't want book sales if I have to hector people into it. I feel like I'm running up to people in the street and screaming "buy my books" in their faces.  I do occasionally share a picture on Facebook with a playful caption.  

I published via kdp to avoid rejection, frankly, especially after seeing some of the garbage "real" publishers are putting out there.  I do not cope well with being told I'm less capable than people writing about physically impossible interactions, be they romantic or violent.

There's also the problem of the gatekeepers.  The bulk of my characters are Cherokee.  Some of them are gay.  I've been told I've no right to this muse because I'm straight and white.  (I do have a previous blog post about this if you'd like to read it.  I think the title is "You Can't Write That".) 

I have to pay for my own copies of these books.  I was not sent a truckload of free copies to give away or sell in a local market.  That's simply not how kdp does business.  They don't even print until they get an order for a paperback version.  Most of the sales are digital.  Therefore, unless some windfall comes my way, I won't be setting up a sales booth at a local event.  

I love writing.  I love my stories.  But even more than that, I love the little girl inside me who is still learning that she deserves happiness.  That she is a good person despite what others say.  I won't risk her for the sake of sales.  

Anyway... if you're interested... search Amazon for PJ Schmidt Stillwater Farm.  Titles are "Seventh Son" and "Ghosts".  It's listed as a series, but either one can stand on its own.  Thanks for listening. 

Traditional Values

I've been watching a lot of The Waltons and Little House on the Prairie lately.  Then I saw something about someone (Netflix?) rebooting Little House and, of course, there they were... the pearl-clutching army in the comments worried about THE WOKE AGENDA is gonna ruin it.  

I got news for y'all.  If this happens, and you don't like it, nobody says you have to watch.  I stopped watching the original TV show when they decided to divert from the "facts" of the books.  Mary never married and Albert didn't exist.  That's how you deal with offensive TV shows.  

Anyway, that got me to thinking about the question of how these wholesome shows might have handled certain topics. 

 I realized Little House did handle a lot of the topics.  Mary's blindness gave them the vehicle to show that the disabled are not so different from the abled.  They brought in nonwhites from time to time and, again, focused on the similarities more than the differences. Nellie married a nice Jewish boy.  I have come to the conclusion that, given the limitations of television in the 70s and 80s, that Little House is yet another example of something that was WOKE all along.  

I don't recall a lot of the specific storylines on The Waltons.  But in recent viewings, I saw Elizabeth deal with possibly being paralyzed and an attempt to heal her by a "gypsy".  The Waltons are friendly with a "colored" family.  Well damn, that's some DEI stuff right there!  

All of this led me to wonder how these shows would handle certain other topics.  

Homosexuality:  The Waltons made it a point to be historically accurate, but I guess they could have a couple of "confirmed bachelors" or "old maids" sharing a home.  Maybe they did and I just don't remember. Maybe the Baldwin sisters weren't really sisters!  Little House would probably take a similar route, but given the pattern of that show, it'd be some stranger who wanders into town just long enough to confess the deep dark secret to an Ingalls.  

Interracial Marriage: Maybe one of the Walton boys could bring home a Japanese bride after WW2.  Maybe some local natives want to court the citizens of Walnut Grove.  But I can't see how a black/white pairing would work without destroying any semblance of historical accuracy.  One takes place not long after the Civil War.  One takes place in the American South.  Both predate the Civil Rights Movement. 

Transgenderism: This would be handled much like homosexuality.  (The girl-disguised-as-boy-for-protection trope does not count here!)  Little House's setting could set up an Albert Cashier type scenario. Albert Cashier Hell, maybe Grandpa Walton served with an Albert Cashier... when did the military actually start examining recruits? 

Which leads me to why I gave this blog post the title I did.  Often when we hear about traditional values, it's people raving against the sort of things I just mentioned, but considering how these topics could have worked in the shows... some of our traditional values aren't bad.  

These fictions reflect the world as it once was.  Did Olivia Walton or Caroline Ingalls bother much about what the neighbors did in the bedroom?  Did Charles Ingalls and John Walton assume the the new guy in town was female because he had no beard?  I don't think so... not unless they were hurting people.  These are traditional values - if a person is harmless, what they do is none of my business. 

But maybe I'm just pushing that woke agenda. 

 

Another Gladys Box (Part Two)

 

Remember this?  I finally got it sorted through and put away.  It was quite a job.

I found a huge bin for Family Archives, to replace the little one I could no longer fit them into.

Which led to a storage dilemma.  It was simply too big for any of my hidey-holes and I don't want to have to go down to my storage for archives.  

So I started playing bin roulette.  

The one on the floor I bought for Lego blocks, intending to slide it under my loveseat.  It was too tall.

The quilting supplies on the loveseat went to their intended recipient, but I kept the bin.

The green lid is what I was keeping the archives in, Barbie bin held my Lego blocks until it overflowed, and I don't remember were the purple-latch one came from.  

(The little one with the purple lid and checkerboard tin are for gift wrapping.)

The Lego got divided into Barbie and Purple Latch.  For now, anyway.  More on that in a bit.

The two flat bins hold the archives now.  Photos in the smaller, other stuff in the larger. They fit under the bed, where it simply did not occur to me to put Lego.  

This lady remains unidentified.  I still feel very strongly that she's close kin to those surrounding her.

The tinted tots did turn out to be the same kids as in the black-and-white.  Arthur and Marian Parker, my uncle and my mother. 

The storage where I keep holiday decorations is big enough to hold the new huge bin!  Halloween abandoned its red bin for that one.  I think I'll dump all the Lego blocks into the red one, which will fit into a hidey-hole.  Barely. 

Another Gladys Box (Part One)

 These pictures are all kinds of out of order.  Bear with me.  

Second Sister discovered a box of things we believed to have been passed down from our Great-aunt Gladys, socked away in her closet since before I was appointed Family Archivist.  She promptly contacted me and Eldest Sister so we could see what kind of treasure we had.

I kept this felt bookmark-thing because it has my name on it. 

Turns out this Bible belonged originally to our great-grandmother Maggie!  

We figure it went to Gladys at Maggie's death, then possibly to our grandmother (Gladys's sister-in-law) and then to the granddaughter most known for photo albums and keepsakes.

There were two other Bibles, both in better condition than this.  No identification of ownership on them and they've been adopted by The Boy.

The Bible was crammed with newspaper clippings.  Most of the dates were in the 1920s.  A relative few could be connected to my tree, which were taped into the Family Tree Binder.  That gallon baggie up top holds the rest. 

The Bible in question and a few larger, flat keepsakes.

The box after the Bible-in-a-bag was removed.   

Ignore the messy apartment. 

One of the keepsakes.  James Cox ran for President in 1920, with FDR as a running mate!

Photo compare for possible identification.  

The larger ones were in the box, the smaller ones are known to be Arthur and Marian Parker.  

Another comparison for hopeful identification.  The center lady gave us Purkiser vibes, so here she is with some possible kin or even herself.  The known elements are Maggie Purkiser Parker (original owner of the Bible and our great-grandmother), Dora/Anna  Hayes Purkiser (Maggie's mother), and Lida/Lydia Purkiser (Maggie's sister).

One of the few identified photos in the box.  Maggie Purkiser.

Notice the different handwriting as the Bible changed hands.

The Dora on these pages is not Maggie's mother, but her stepdaughter.

*****

More to come... 

No Kings Day

 The situation here - my personal situation - has held steady.  My SSDI hasn't been interrupted, thank all the gods ever.  My food stamps and Medicare/Medicaid haven't changed, but I worry more the longer this goes on.  My area is rife with food pantries.  But not so much Prozac and Metformin pantries.  So I worry more about the meds. 

It's becoming more and more difficult to remain nonpartisan.  MAGA has weaponized the party division even worse than the 2016 election meddling did.  I always hoped, believed, that the Elected would eschew partisanship to fight a blatant abuse of power.  A few of them have and I applaud them.  But far too many of the Republicans are sitting on their hands.  

Most man-on-the-street Republicans are not okay with things as they are.  Nobody I know (or at least nobody I respect) voted for Trump because they hate immigrants.  I suspect gas and grocery prices had a lot to do with it.  Many people blamed Biden for the post-pandemic inflation that the whole world is dealing with.  People vote what they think is best for "me-and-mine".  They expect our checks and balances to, ya know, check and balance. 

The government is in shutdown as I write this.  Both parties are more focused on their own agendas than on what needs to be done. (Nothing new there, but I digress.)  Federal employees, including but not limited to the military, are either going without pay or facing that possibility.  On what planet is this preferable to giving a medical care to non-citizens?  

Today people all over the world are holding No Kings rallies.  Protests about the overreach and abuse of power by the current POTUS.  I have chosen not to participate, mostly due to my crowd phobia and the distance I'd have to drive to find one, but my heart is with them.  And I honestly think we'd be surprised how many of those protestors voted for Donald Trump.  

People who voted for him are now suffering from his policies.  Those who opposed him from the start are gloating! This is not cool.  No one deserves to be screwed out of their livelihood by a person they trusted. They put their trust in the wrong man (or men, considering the failure of the legislative wing to stop this), and now they need compassion.  Now they need to be shown forgiveness for their error.  

We The People can get through this.  But not by continuing this partisan bickering. Certainly not by assuming that, because I'm from a certain demographic, that you know how I voted. Some of those farmers losing their homes voted Harris or third parties or maybe didn't vote at all.  Just give each other a break, benefit of the doubt, and be kind.  Stand together with your fellow Americans.  Hell, with your fellow earthlings.  

  

State of Unrest

That title could apply to the political situation, in which I see little glimmers of hope.  Some of the state governors are standing up to the federal government's overreach.  Most of them are, of course, members of THE OTHER PARTY, but we gotta start somewhere. 

My dreams have had a recurring theme for a while now, that of moving into or cleaning out a hoarder house.  A sure sign of my dissatisfaction with my current domicile situation.  There are, of course, the issues you get in any apartment building.  The air flow in individual units sucks.  Some of the close neighbors are inconsiderate.  No private yard.  But all told, and compared to previous homes, it is good. 

The hoarder house part intrigues me.  In part, I can blame a certain YouTube channel, which frequently buys such homes or the contents of such homes and takes me along on the exploration.  In one such home, he found artwork worth more than he paid for the entire house!  Both of my parents were hoarders to a degree.  My father because he grew up on a farm and survived the Great Depression and my mother because she had a plethora of untreated mental issues.  I declutter regularly to avoid leaving that kind of mess for my heirs. 

Flipping houses interests me.  The notion of turning a place that's been used and abused back into a viable home really appeals to me.  In a way, it would feel like healing the house.  But in the dreams, I have to empty the house before I can flip it. (It just occurred to me that part of the healing process is removing or rearranging stuff. Especially if the wound has been festering for a while.)  

I get like this from time to time.  Probably soon I will whack off my long hair and rearrange the furniture.  But this time it feels different.  Maybe because I'm no longer playing with Publishers Clearing House.  Funny how much comfort I've always taken from that long shot.  We gotta have dreams or the bastards really will grind us down. 

Anyway... thanks for joining me on this little journey inside my head.  See ya next time.