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| Crock Pot working today! |
Welcome April!
This Saturday morning here in southern coastal Delaware, Trump country, a light rain is falling. The Trump fools are all in a dither because their Dear Leader was indicted by the Manhattan district attorney, the first time in Trump's long and infamous life that he's actually going to be held accountable for one of his crimes. This time, falsifying records about campaign finances regarding his brief affair with the porn star Stormy Daniels.
Trump is in a panic. His cowardly, sycophant, Republican supporters are hysterical with indignation. "How dare they indict Dear Leader!"
Even my good Trump flag flying neighbor Bob is in a deep funk. I just don't understand how good people like Bob (probably the best neighbor Bill and I have ever had) and otherwise decent folks (many of them longtime friends) have been brainwashed into being Trump supporters. Even though they know of his lifetime of criminality, his Mob Boss thuggery and intimidation and lack of respect of the Constitution, they continue to support Trump. I think I sort of understand, I too at one time wanted Trump to run for president during one of his early toe dipping into the presidential primary season in New Hampshire. Of course at that time I didn't realize what a profound evil, selfish, immoral slug Trump was. Trump cares nothing about his supporters. Trump is an opportunist. He only uses them to feed his insatiable appetite for attention.
Look Trump supporters, Trump will never be president again (thank God)! But he will continue to cause dissension in our country. But I am a firm believer in that Good will triumph over evil. I don't think the majority of his clueless supporters are evil, they are just misguided. They don't trust government. Hey, I don't either. But Trump isn't your vehicle folks. Look elsewhere. Trump will only take you one place, to the trash dump. Wake up.
That said, now to talk about something nice. Bill continues to be stabilized. His leg is completely healed. He weaker and having trouble speaking. Early signs of dementia are more evident every day but he knows who I am. He's comfortable. I couldn't wish for more in out situation. He's here at home with me. Of course it takes a toll on me, being his constant caregiver but I would rather have our situation that way instead of him in some facility. I am so thankful we can live out our final days this way.
My back is aching now. This is what happens when I stand too long. This morning the culprit was preparation for Crock Pot beef stew. Cutting the beef and browning it, peeling and cutting the vegetables, requires a lot of preparation up front but at the end of the day I have a Crock Pot of scrumptious beef stew. And the aroma of the beef stew during the day as it cooks in the Crock Pot, heavenly!
6 comments:
When will dinner be served? I love a good old-fashioned beef stew. I can bring dessert.
I loved your post about your mother. Loved the pictures. A mother doing right by her children. I was thinking that the quality of Pepperidge Farm baked goods then is vastly different than today. I would say a cheaper version. Things were different back in the day. Manufactured goods today-whatever they may be-are made to be disposable and not last long. I yearn for the quality of times past. Twenty-five years at one job. Besides the military, very few folks stay at a job that long today.
As with your father so is mine. My father was a mean old bastard. I was not so much afraid of him as I wanted nothing to do with him. My father took no interest in his children. Kids should be seen and not heard was his motto. When I was in my early teens my father stated that he did not care what we did. We had free rein. He stated if anything involved him or the family he needed to know about it. And thus the curtain was drawn. He was never involved in our school activities, personal ambitions, or anything. I do remember once in my senior year I received a notice from a school counselor to meet with her. Long story, context- I was only on campus for a half day in the afternoons. In the morning I worked in a hospital for high school credits-Regional Occupational Progam. I was up really early and caught two school buses to get to the hospital. I informed my father of my senior-year educational schedule. My father thought I was cutting school and hanging out downtown. I was pissed hearing from the counselor. She was confused that my father came to the school. She asked if we spoke. His actions were very, very, rare for him. My father would go to parent/teacher conferences kicking and screaming if not at all. My father would not fill out any forms from the school. I would complete them and my brother would sign my father's signature. He had it down pat. We even did our own absents from school notices. On a few occasions, we would write them, and my father reviewed and signed them. I understood his play. This was his ongoing passive-aggressive tactics. I came home and particularly cussed his ass out. He was taken aback. The subject was never brought up again.
Glad to see that Bill is still doing his thing.
Have a great Sunday afternoon and the week ahead.
Victor
XO
Victor,
I'm sorry to hear that your father wasn't there for you. I wonder how we would have turned out (not gay) had we had a father who cared for us? Your father was pretty bad but at least he did something as far as your school activities. Mine did NOTHING. ZIP. NADA. COULD.NOTLBE.BOTHERED. Never attended any of my school functions. I was involved in a lot of functions. Band, chorus, track. He couldn't even be bothered to attended my graduation. He never visited me once in the hospital even the time I was near death and not expected to leave the hospital alive. I could go on and in fact I think I will write a blog post about all the things he did and didn't do for his oldest son. His greatest sin though was constantly belittling and mocking me. When I left home at eighteen yeas old I had such low self esteem, it's a wonder I survived. But survive I did.
I'm just about to have some of that delicious crock pot beef stew that's been cooking all day. The aroma is throughout Casa Tipton-Kelly. Semlls wonderful!
Ron
Ron,
Thanks for your response.
I could write a book about what I remember growing up. The only reason my father went to the high school was he thought I was lying. It was a chance/opportunity to prove me wrong. My question to him was why in the hell would I get up at the crack of dawn to hang out downtown when nothing was open? Side note-I was 19 in my senior year. My father left halfway through my graduation. Hell, my last name is Cooper and they call folks alphabetically.
I would have loved to have been involved in after-school activities. I was interested in the arts and loved music. I knew I would have to ask my father and that would involve questions and asking him to pick me up from school. That was out of the question. I would probably get his usual refrain of ""why do you want to do that." I did not get my driver's license until I was about 24-25. I had to take driver's ed to graduate. I came back to the US at the end of my sophomore year. The course was only offered to those in 10th grade so I had to go to night school with all the adult drunks. Road tests were easy for me. My instructor thought I had lessons. I said how hard can it is to keep a car on the road. And get this. One of my father's jobs in the AF Okinawa was teaching driver's ed to military personnel. He never taught us. I asked for a car as my senior graduation gift. Nothing fancy. Just something that was dependable. With my father, it was all about control. As the kids became more independent the divide with my father grew.
I came out to my parents when I was about 30. He had no issue as long as I kept it to myself. I blew his hair back on that one. He quickly recovered and was afraid I would get beat up. I had to explain to him how things worked. I was not going to stand on a street corner and yell that I am gay BUT if someone asks I will tell. Wishful thinking- if I had parents that would have nurtured and encouraged me along the way no telling what would have happened.
I envy you because you and another dear friend have this nack of remembering finite details of the past. Hell, I can't recall conversations from last week. I just remember the jest of them. I could not give you a round-by-round of who said what. I wish I had that talent.
Trust the beef stew turned out just right.
Sleep well,
Victor
I always enjoy your "I remember mama" stories. I also like the photos you post of her and family. She was a beautiful woman. You know you can get those old photos that are in bad shape restored to "like new" condition. It cost very little to have it done. We all have our memories...the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Now that most of our parents and other family have passed on we are telling our story about the days of our life. Upon her death bed and literally minutes before she passed on my mother held my hand tight and said " make sure they are all dead before you tell the story (of your life) so they don't hurt you". My families were rich and powerful and to them appearances were evrything. They would do anything, and I do mean anything, to protect the family honor. I eventually learned to beat them at their own game and earned my own respect and honor. My entire family have all passed on as well as many of my family of friends who I held dear and close to my heart. I attended private schools. In these schools we where taught how to be men and what purpose men and women where put on this earth for. Women were to be honored but they were here to serve man. In sex education we were taught how to acheive an orgasm and how good sex feels but never told how to please a woman. We were taught how to clean up ourselves after sex but nothing about the woman. Where I am going with this is that we were being taught that men married women and had a family as soon as possible. Women where there to serve men. We were also supposed to take care of our mothers because they would survive the husband. It was made clear to us that men were here to succeed in their lifes work and women were here to be used. Homosexuality was not an option to even be spoken about except it was. The most masculine of men spoke of homos behind closed doors and many often had close male friends they share special things with. They shared working on cars, hunting, fishing, camping, and sports. But how your closeness to your male buddy was expressed or shown was behind closed doors. It was called bonding. It was really F-ed up and no wonder the attitude towards homosexuallity was one of fear and negativity. Fathers knew and feared their sons being gay and one of the best ways to get through it was to ignore or to be little their sons. Mothers knew their children and their main goal was to protect their sons from harm. But husbands came first and the laws on the book at the time basically said women were the property of men. So in order to protect the sons they had to show their loyalty to the husband. No wonder we are all f-ing screwed up. Hell on earth. I hope I have not bored you all but rather that I have given some food for thought. Victims of circumstances. Its ashame we have to lose sleep over such a system as the ones we grow up in. Ron, I hope that beef stew turned out great and you are enjoying it. I made some last week using my secret ingredient-poultry seasoning. I add poultry seasoning to the flour I drege the stew meat chunks in before browning it. I retain some of the flour to thicken the stew with if it needs it. Just adds a nice flavor. Remember friends to be safe, be careful and be happy.Yup! So says Woody in Ohio
I suspect this legal matter will only make him/his acolytes more resolute and guarantee his re-eelction. Alas.
Ur-spo,
Don't even think about The Orange Hyena/s election. God forbid! His base will stay with him no matter what, literally even if she shoots someone on Fifth Avenue in board daylight. Trump will never be reelected president. You can take that to the bani.
Ron
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