Category Archives: dogs

communication, condescending twatbags, dogs, rants, social media, stupid people

Welcome to my block list, fool!

Be warned, y’all. I’m in the mood to rant. There will probably be some profanity, and yes, I’ll be spelling out all the words. I don’t like the practice of using asterisks in swear words. Fuck that noise. Proceed with caution.

Some time ago, I got tired of George Takei’s Facebook posts. I decided to unfollow him, because too often, I’d find myself having hostile interactions with his followers. A lot of Takei’s followers are of the left-wing variety. I’ve got no issues with that, until they try to ram their opinions down my throat. If a stranger responds to my comment with anger, I don’t usually bother to read what they say. Sometimes, I’ll even use my block button.

Now… I’m not referring to someone I’ve directly addressed and pissed off in some way. What I mean is, if I’ve written a stand alone comment and a total stranger immediately responds to me with vitriol or mocking, I consider that offensive. Chances are good I won’t bother to read what they’ve written. Same thing goes for people who respond to me with condescension or derision. It’s poor communication, and I don’t have time for it. Gotta think about my blood pressure. Would rather clean the lint out of my belly button than read that.

Here’s my reasoning for this. I don’t wake up in the morning and deliberately decide to write something that is going to piss someone off. I’m a decent human being and I deserve basic respect. If I leave a comment, most of the time, I’m being serious. I’ve usually given thought to what I’ve posted. So, if your response is to “laugh” at me, or try to tell me off, I’m going to turn off your ability to interact with me. Ain’t nobody got the time for that bullshit. Go troll someone else.

I need this t-shirt.

Somehow, even though I had unfollowed George Takei some time ago, I ended up being resubscribed to his posts (which I suspect aren’t his posts anymore). Like a lot of other formerly good pages, lately George Takei’s Facebook posts now mostly consist of “Am I the Asshole” stories from Reddit. Some AITA posts are entertaining. Some are infuriating.

A couple of days ago, there was a post about a guy whose sister took his kids out and bought them a puppy without his permission. The guy didn’t want a dog and the sister knew it, but she bought the puppy anyway. The kids were delighted, of course, but their father was furious. He demanded that his sister take the dog back, but she refused. She claimed that her landlord wouldn’t let her have another dog. So the guy immediately took the innocent dog to the pound!

I just went looking for the post on my personal Facebook feed, but I couldn’t find it. My original comment for my “friends” is that taking a dog to the pound immediately makes the guy an asshole. But I also think his sister is an asshole for bringing the dog home and refusing to find it an appropriate home. So, in my opinion, they’re both assholes. Maybe it’s a genetic thing. Who knows?

On Takei’s post, I simply posted “Give the dog to a rescue!”

Now… I do understand that giving a dog to a rescue is not always that simple. Sometimes it takes time to arrange that. However, I was reacting to the AITA poster’s very profane and mean comments about the dog, a defenseless creature who was not at fault in that situation. The guy was saying things like “I don’t want a fucking dog.” and “No way are we keeping the fucking dog.” And, then, he didn’t care at all about potentially sentencing that poor creature to death by dumping it at the pound, hence my response that he (or his sister) should find a rescue. It was mainly a comment of disgust, more than anything else. I know the guy isn’t going to read my comment, and it’s too late, now, anyway. Most people are bright enough to understand that, right?

I wonder about the decency of people who dump dogs at the pound in places where they might be euthanized simply because they’re taking up space. In fact, I wondered, given that man’s insane and profane comments about the dog, if he was even a decent parent. He seemed abusive and cruel to me. But I do know that not everyone likes dogs. He was rightfully pissed that his sister had tried to dump a dog on him, so maybe cussing about it wasn’t totally wrong. It WAS wrong to just dump the dog at the pound, though… in my humblest of opinions, of course.

Anyway, a couple of days passed, and last night, I got this comment from some woman who, not knowing a single thing about me, decided I needed a good schoolin’. She left me this condescending lecture response about why contacting a rescue is the wrong thing to do. I didn’t bother to read beyond the first sentence or two, because she was insulting my intelligence, and that was offensive. I was in no mood for that shit, so I gave her the orange emoji and wrote “I know. I’ve rescued six dogs myself. Spare me the lectures.”

Her response to that was to employ the laugh reaction emoji. So I immediately blocked her. I figure, I don’t need to have anything to do with an asshole like that. Ain’t nobody got the time for that bullshit!

Maybe that seems like an extreme response to something insignificant. I know it’s an indication that I need to quit bothering to respond to most things, because there’s always a chance some idiot out there in Internetland is going to feel the need to engage me in a disrespectful way. Moreover, the vast majority of people you run into on Facebook are people you won’t ever again be having any other interaction with at all in life.

On a different day, I might have been more in the mood to politely engage with the woman. Yesterday, I wasn’t feeling up to it, and I didn’t appreciate her ignorant comment to me. If she knew me offline, she’d know that I’m really into my dogs. But she doesn’t know me, and yet she felt emboldened to try to school me. It’s a waste of time, and I definitely ain’t got the time for that.

I don’t know this woman from Adam. She might be the most wonderful person, ever. But I truly didn’t feel like having an interaction with her, because I honestly didn’t think my comment needed her “correction”, and her approach was patronizing and obnoxious. When I responded to her, I was clearly annoyed. Any idiot could see that, based on the orange reaction. Most normal people, when they’re offline, don’t feel the need to keep “poking the bear” when it’s clear the person they’re talking to is irritated. Especially when it’s a total stranger.

ASSHOLE!!

I mean, what the fuck is wrong with that person? I don’t owe anyone a polite conversation, particularly when I wasn’t responding to them in the first place. When I do address people, I try to be civilized, at least at first. Anyway, because the fellow Takei follower mocked me, she took her place with all the scammers, abusers, real life idiots, and MAGA trolls who currently populate my block list.

This morning, I got to use the block button again. This time, it was against someone I don’t know in person, but with whom I have had a few unfortunate past encounters on Facebook. He is a very conservative friend of someone with whom I went to high school. I don’t enjoy engaging with the guy, but because I sometimes comment on my old friend’s posts, I’ve occasionally run into him over the past couple of years. I’ve even blogged about his stupidity a few times. After today, I probably won’t do that anymore, because like the Takei post idiot, he’s now on my block list.

The interaction that caused me to use the block button involved politics. My old friend from school had posted about Mitch McConnell’s apparent “mini stroke”. Someone posted about Joe Biden being a “criminal”. I did not directly respond to that person, but I did leave a general comment that I hate it when people call Joe Biden a criminal when Donald Trump is so much worse. I mean, he just got indicted again yesterday. I’ve lost count of how many times Trump has been indicted by federal and state governments, and yet people still champion him and would love to see him return to power. Why put someone in power who has no respect for the law?!

Anyway, my friend’s conservative “$1.89 gas loving” friend laugh reacted at me. So I decided to use the block button. I ain’t got time for that shit. He wants to laugh at me when I’m being serious? That just shows he has no respect for others. I don’t want to waste time interacting with him. I don’t have time for it. He can stay in his echo chamber with the rest of the red hat wearing cult crowd. I’ll engage with people who still have actual brain activity.

To be clear, I don’t necessarily have a problem with conservatives. I have lots of conservative friends and family members, and for years, I identified as one myself. I value other people’s opinions, because that’s how a person can develop a well rounded approach to living. But a person who laughs at those with whom they disagree is disrespectful, lacks an open mind, and doesn’t value other viewpoints. I take that as a sign of someone with low intelligence. So why bother interacting with them? I figure I’ve already lived half my life. Time’s a wastin’. Don’t need to be trying to mesh with someone who feels the need to mock others.

I mention my school friend’s “friend” because I want to show that I generally don’t block people willy nilly. I’ve had a number of interactions with that guy when I was in less of a “mood”. I’ve repeatedly tolerated his stupid comments about how great Trump is because gas prices were lower when he was the president (presidents don’t control gas prices). I’ve repeatedly read his dogged attempts to sway people to his MAGA cult, yet I’ve really tried to maintain basic respect for his rights to his own opinions. I don’t try to argue with him about his deeply held beliefs. It would be a waste of time, not to mention disrespectful. Even after blocking him, I still believe he has the right to his opinions. I just don’t want to read them anymore. We are not going to be “friends”, so he might as well not exist in my world. 😉 May he go with God, and all… and enjoy a fulfilling, fruitful life… far away from my Facebook feed.

To the half dozen or so people I expect might read this, you might be wondering why I have these extreme reactions. Call it a “psychological sunburn”… or maybe it’s more like an allergic reaction. I’m allergic to people who don’t take me seriously. It probably comes from being the youngest child of four, with many years between me and my next sibling. For most of my life, people have treated me in a demeaning way because I’m younger than they are, or I giggle a lot, or I’m female, less conservative, have blonde hair, or some other dumbassed reason. They have failed to realize that I’m a responsible, basically intelligent person with feelings. I don’t deserve to be insulted or mocked, particularly by strangers.

Before the age of social media, I wouldn’t have anything to do with the vast majority of people who find their way to my sphere today. But, because of technology, and my choice to use it, here we are… dealing with idiots who don’t know how to behave with basic decorum. So I use the block button to protect my sanity. Honestly, I’ve gotten this way with my own family members, too. When they are blatantly disrespectful to me, I put more distance between us. Because fuck that. I’ve had my fill of disrespect, thanks.

I decided to write about this today, because I haven’t seen it addressed that much. I found one thread on Reddit by someone who wrote that he thinks people who use the block button are immature. He wrote that he thinks it’s better to just ignore them. But isn’t that what blocking does? If you block someone, you’re putting them on ignore, so you don’t have to be exposed to their bullshit. It’s like a vaccine against aggravation. Nobody owes anyone else access to them, or their sense of peace.

Besides… I doubt the vast majority of people in the world care about having communication with me, anyway. I seem to annoy most people simply by being alive. So I might as well spare them, and myself, the pain of an interaction. Some people think blocking people is weak and immature. I say, if blocking irritating people is wrong, I don’t want to be right. I’ve got enough issues. So, if you want to be an asshole, be one somewhere else. I’d rather go wash my hair.

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complaints, dogs, home, housekeeping tips

I never said it would be easy, only that it would be “worth it”…

Good afternoon, y’all. I’m getting a late start today. My house has been overtaken by alien forces.

The guys in my house right now should add this song to their playlist…

Actually, what’s happening is that this week, our landlord is having new windows put in. We’ve been through this before. When we lived in our former German house, it was half furnished with new windows. The remainder were put in within weeks of our tenancy. I remember the process to be quite a pain in the ass, especially since the people who made the windows got the wrong measurements. We had wood over our windows for about a week or so, until new ones could be made.

This time, it looks like they got the right measurements, but the whole house is being done all this week. The same guys did our landlord’s house last week. Now, it’s our turn to deal with the noise and the dust. I’m at a disadvantage, though, because I’m not the one paying the window guys. I’m just the tenant’s wife, who doesn’t really speak German and is kind of in their way.

I’d take off if I could, but that would mean leaving Noyzi home alone. He doesn’t fit in my car, and it’s not running right now, anyway. It needs a new battery, and probably new tires. And these guys have already shown me that they were born in a barn. They came into the house this morning– promptly at 8 AM– and immediately started moving stuff in my office, Noyzi’s room, and the bathroom. I had just finished writing a blog post, but hadn’t yet published it. I had to rush through that, then move to my bedroom, where I quickly practiced and restrung my guitar.

When I took Noyzi for a walk, I realized that sitting upstairs would probably be a bad idea. The workers’ crap is all over the place. I’m all hot and sweaty and I’d really like to take a shower, but the upstairs bathroom is a mess.

I asked the guys in English to keep the front door closed, because I don’t want Noyzi getting out. I don’t think he’d actually go out by himself, but I don’t want to take the risk. He spooks easily, and we live near the Autobahn. We already lost one dog that freaked out and got killed there. I don’t want that to happen to Noyzi, too. I don’t actually think Noyzi would get hit on the Autobahn. He’s very street smart, and avoids danger quite adeptly. But he’s still a dog, and he gets scared. Not only would I be heartbroken to lose him; it would also cost us a lot of money if he got hit by a car, even though we’re insured.

Far be it for me to criticize anyone for not being fluent in English when we’re in Germany. BUT… most younger people, which these guys are, know a little bit of English. I would expect them to at least know “close the door.” I mean, I could probably say that in German, if I had to, and I might have even tried, if the guy hadn’t immediately cut me off and said he doesn’t speak English without even trying to listen to my request. It’s one thing when I open the door and someone starts going off in rapid fire German at me. I never invited them to a conversation. I’m just minding my own business, in my own space.

This guy is in my home, which we’re paying a lot of money to live in, and I have the right to make a simple request that he and his colleague not leave the door open so my dog doesn’t escape. I was NOT impressed by his basic lack of respect toward me. Moreover, if Noyzi got out because those guys left the door open, I would be raising major Hell.

I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes and gave the guy a major bitch glare when I said, “Keep the door closed. Because of the dog.”

The guy seemed to understand my request. I did also ask the landlord to tell them to close the door. Nevertheless, even though they seemed to understand that I wanted them to close the door, they continued to leave it open a few times. So I moved downstairs and, much to my shame, took a passive aggressive approach to teaching them. Every time they left the door open, I closed it HARD. There were also a couple of glares, too. I know you get more bees with flies than honey, but to me this is a pretty simple thing.

Another thing that is annoying me is that these two have a love for German pop dance music. It has a very hard, driving beat that pulsates through the floor. It’s giving me a headache. So, I decided to turn on my music downstairs. It’s an eclectic mix of everything from bluegrass to disco. That should entertain them as much as it does me. And, although it’s only 2:45 PM, I’m strongly considering doing some day drinking… because fuck them. 😉

Normally, I wouldn’t take this attitude. I have a lot of respect for tradesmen and service providers. But yes, it does annoy me when someone invades my home, immediately spreads their shit all over most of the upstairs, where I do my work, and without even asking me if it’s okay to start there, and playing their crappy music, while acting like they were raised in a barn and not closing the fucking front door behind them. I don’t even care if they think I’m a raving bitch, either. They wouldn’t be the first. 😉 Besides, I’ve got underwear older than they are.

With any luck, this won’t go on for the whole week…

On the plus side, as today’s post title indicates, the end result will be worth it. I know from our last house that new windows will make our house more comfortable on many levels. The house does need them. And next year, we’ll probably get a heat pump… if we don’t move. That will mean no more buying tanks of oil every year and, maybe, better heating and cooling. Maybe… we’ll see.

I do appreciate our landlord. He’s a good guy who treats us with respect and never harasses us. I doubt we’ll have to sue him when we eventually move out. I am grateful for the upgrade in the house. I just wish these guys were more considerate and didn’t treat me like I don’t have the right to be in my own home.

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dogs, ideas, lessons learned, mental health, narcissists, psychology, skills

What’s the harm in pumping up the volume a little?

I’m taking a break from my travel blogging to offer today’s regular blog post. It’s not a holiday in Germany, but Bill is home today, because it is a US holiday on post. He made us breakfast– what we usually eat on Saturdays– and walked Noyzi, who was just reunited with his collar last night.

When Bill picked up Noyzi on Sunday, he forgot to retrieve his collar, which the folks at the Hundepension had removed while he was staying there. I think Noyzi likes wearing his collar. Sometimes, he reminds me a lot of our first rescue, a blue eye beagle husky mix named CuCullain (CC), who also loved wearing his collar and hearing it jingle.

CC was very well behaved, and had a temperament much like Noyzi’s. Sweet, but slightly aloof at times, and more prey driven than pack oriented… And, just like CC, he hangs out with me all day, quietly lying at my feet, but rarely making any demands. Unfortunately, we only had CC for 16 months, as he contracted a very rare and fatal mycobacterial infection (Mycobacterium Avian). Sometimes, I think CC has come back through Noyzi, although Noyzi is also very much his own dog.

Anyway, as we were eating breakfast, I played a video I made on the ship. I put it on the first travel blog post I wrote this morning. Bill grimaced as he listened to it. He said, “I don’t like the sound of my own voice.”

I sympathize. I don’t like listening to myself speak, either. And I earned minors in both speech and communications when I was in college, worked in radio broadcasting, and am a singer. I don’t even particularly enjoy my singing voice, although other people claim to like it. I don’t mind hearing myself as I talk or sing, because it sounds different when you’re listening to your voice in your own head. When you hear a recording of your voice, you hear yourself as others hear you, and it can be disorienting.

But in Bill’s case, it goes beyond that disorienting feeling of hearing a recording of his own voice. For as long as I’ve known him, Bill has said he doesn’t like the sound of his own voice. The first time I ever heard him speak was over the crackling connection of 2000 era VoIP (Voice over Internet Protocol). Back then, I didn’t think he had a particularly offensive voice, but I distinctly remember him confessing that he didn’t like hearing himself speak. He says he still feels the same way 23 years later.

As I got to know Bill better, I noticed I often had to ask him to speak up. He later told me it was because when he was a child, he was often encouraged to “use his indoor voice” and squelch that natural instinct children tend to have to be loud. I don’t mind a man who is conscious of being too loud in public. But sometimes, it pays to be assertive and speak up… and out. There are many reasons I think that learning this skill is a good thing.

First and foremost, speaking up is a way to bolster one’s own self-esteem. When you speak up, and speak clearly, you are letting people know that they should listen to you. Mumbling quietly may be less offensive to others, but it also has the potential to send the signal that you don’t think very highly of yourself. It might make some people think that you aren’t assertive and won’t stick up for your own interests. That’s how you end up rubbing elbows with people like Ex, Bill’s “war buddy” boss who was later very publicly fired for abusing troops, or our former landlady.

Secondly, speaking up and sounding more assertive makes other people, like bosses and colleagues, think you’re more competent. And that can lead to more success in the workplace, as long as you’re not too outspoken or obnoxious (like I tend to be). It’s not that I don’t think Bill is competent. He totally is, and his coworkers know it. But a slightly more confident and clear tone to his voice certainly wouldn’t hurt. I think it would also make him feel better about himself. He has a lot to say, and most of what he says is well worth hearing.

Bill has been working with a Jungian therapist for the past couple of years. It’s been a life changing experience for him as he learns new things and discovers truths about himself. So this morning, I suggested that maybe some speech therapy or even simple exercises– mindfulness– about his speech habits, might be another avenue for him to explore. It might be another way to grow. He might learn to like the sound of his own voice more, and that will lead to an improved self-image.

I also know from personal experience that public speaking is a great skill to have and, if you’re a bit of an exhibitionist, like I am, it’s also a lot of fun. Bill is not an exhibitionist, and does have to speak in public for his job sometimes. I know it’s not something he naturally enjoys. But– augmenting the voice and realizing that you have something valuable to say can lead to audience appreciation, which is a wonderful thing. I know. I’ve experienced it, and it can be like a drug. 😉

On a more selfish note, if Bill learned to speak up, and speak clearly, it would make it less necessary for me to ask him to repeat himself when he uses his “indoor voice”. I don’t think I need a hearing aid yet, but I often have to ask him to speak up when we talk to each other. It wouldn’t require much… just a slightly more confident air, and the psychological realization that in general, people DO want to communicate. And the more confident a person sounds, the easier it is to communicate effectively.

Most of all, I want him to erase those old destructive “tapes” that go through his head, telling him that he’s a bother to others, that he isn’t worth listening to, and that he shouldn’t be strong and assertive. I don’t think that was the original intent of the adults who told him when he was a child that he should pipe down… but I do think he somehow internalized the message that his natural proclivity to make noise was upsetting or displeasing to others. As he grew up, he never quite deleted the message that he shouldn’t speak up sometimes. Squelching one’s inclination to speak up isn’t useful to an adult (unless they’re on a luxury cruise ship complaining about their “bum” adult children for everyone else to hear 😀 ).

As we learned on our recent trip, most Americans don’t have a problem with speaking up and speaking out. Far too many of us are way too loud in public spaces. Bill is not one of those people. I love listening to him, and I want him to like hearing himself more. Of course, it’s up to him to decide if this idea is worth pursuing. I will always love him, either way. I just think he might find it an interesting and useful avenue to explore.

I also think learning to speak up is a great way to ward off narcissistic creeps who try to take advantage of “nice guys”. It’s not a bad thing to want to be liked by others, but sometimes that desire can be detrimental. Narcissists love people who are quiet, don’t rock the boat, and are reluctant to speak up and be heard. So, if anything, being less shy about speaking, and more comfortable turning up the volume a little, might be good for warding off the many assholes in our midst.

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condescending twatbags, dogs, travel

My total mama bear moment at yesterday’s weekly market…

Hello y’all. This is a very quick post as Bill and I prepare to get out of Germany for a couple of weeks. Today is the day we’ve both been eagerly anticipating for a couple of months. It’s probably because of our big vacation that I managed to restrain myself yesterday after having an unfortunate run in with a local at the weekly market.

Because of our vacation, Bill and I don’t have much food in the house. We decided to go down to the market to get a sandwich yesterday. It was about 4:30PM, and I was hoping it wouldn’t be too crowded.

We brought Noyzi with us, because he loves going to the Dorfplatz. There’s no issue with this, as people bring their dogs to these events all the time. Anyway, as we were walking through the market, we passed a stand up table, where there were several people standing around smoking and drinking wine. I guess Noyzi was too close to one of the men. He turned around suddenly, slapped at Noyzi, and yelled at him.

I had a very visceral and hostile reaction to that. I didn’t say anything to the man, but if looks could kill, he would certainly be dead now. I was absolutely livid, and it was written all over my face. I think the women who were with him could see it, because they were looking over at me.

Bill didn’t see the incident at all, so he was puzzled when I explained to him what happened. Then I decided I’d better get out of there quickly before I said or did something very embarrassing and inappropriate. So that’s what I did. Let’s hear it for self-control!

The good news is, Noyzi wasn’t fazed by the incident at all, even though he was abused before he came to us and used to be terrified of men. Also, I managed to calm down after about an hour.

I hope that guy stays away from us in the future, though… Don’t want to cause an international incident. 😉

Anyway… all’s well that ends well. I suspect I’ll have forgotten all about this in a few hours.

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dogs, Duggars, musings, religion

Was it really God, or just dumb luck?

Happy Sunday morning, y’all. I’m not sure what we’re going to do today. I was giving some thought to going on post and seeing the rug guy, who lives in Wiesbaden, but usually sells his rugs in Stuttgart. We bought a rug three weeks ago, thinking we would replace one of the ones in the living room that Arran repeatedly peed on. But the guy didn’t have the pattern of rug we needed, and the one we ended up buying was a size too small. The rug guy is in Wiesbaden this weekend, so this would be the time to go.

It’s raining again today, though, and I’m kind of not wanting to venture out. I know I should, because I really do need to get out more. I just don’t feel like getting dressed. I’d rather hibernate with my latest book. Some travel blogger I am these days… I think COVID-19 lockdowns might have ruined my sense of adventure.

Given that it’s Sunday, I thought it might be a good time to write about today’s topic. I often see people praising God for things, claiming that God has somehow blessed or gifted them. The Duggar family is famous for claiming that God had blessed them with many children, as if they were flowers. Wonder what kind of flower Josh Duggar is…

I’ve heard Michelle Duggar say things like “Saying there are too many children is like saying there are too many flowers.” And Jim Bob says things like “Every child is a gift from God. We will keep receiving as many gifts as God wants to send us.”

And while I’m not an atheist, I do sometimes wonder, whenever I read or hear these things. Is it really God sending you gifts, blessing you, saving you, or smiling on you? Or are you just lucky, hardworking, very fertile, or shameless in your willingness to ask for a discount or a freebie?

Don’t get me wrong. I like to think that God had something to do with some of the good things I have in my life. And maybe there have been times when I console myself when things go wrong, telling myself that it was God’s will. I try to tell myself that whatever bad thing happened is just setting me up for something better in the future. But is it, though? Or what if God is actually preparing you for something worse? We all have a “time” to go, right? We all encounter a time when, even if we are true believers, God won’t save or protect us.

Life is kind of absurd. People often do whatever works for them. I look at how and where I met my husband. I never, in a million years, would have guessed we would have found each other in the way we did. It’s hard not to think there wasn’t some kind of divine hand that brought us together, or at least fate. Not only did we meet in a completely unexpected way, but we are also very compatible. It’s crazy that we get along as well as we do. We’re like puzzle pieces.

If you know me offline, you might understand why I make that statement. I have kind of an idiosyncratic personality. Some people like me. A lot of people can’t stand me… or that’s how it seems, anyway. I tend to be outspoken, and some people seem to think I’m too full of myself. Other people think I’m a silly twit. Those people don’t actually know me very well, but most of them also never gave me a chance. Maybe it’s better that way. I find that I have some friends who are genuine, rather than a lot of fake people claiming to be genuine friends.

Recently, Bill and I had a conversation about how I’d like to travel more. Maybe I’d even take trips by myself, like I used to before we were married. Bill says he’d be okay with it, but I can tell he doesn’t like the idea. Truth be told, I’d rather travel with Bill. But he has to work, and takes work trips frequently. So I stay home and tend to the house and the dog(s). Bill’s therapist recently pointed out that his relationship with me was probably the most stable one of his life. It’s understandable that Bill doesn’t want to lose me. Of course, I don’t want to lose myself, either… and sometimes I wonder if I have, when I stay home and watch life pass. Maybe he’s afraid that God wouldn’t protect me as well as he does. 😉

This morning I saw someone post about the Boston Marathon Bombing. It happened almost exactly ten years ago– on April 15, 2013. We were living in North Carolina, preparing to move to Texas for our year there. The person who posted wrote that she had run the marathon and, in spite of having a bum foot and jet lag (she’d flown over from Germany), she kept running. She finished the marathon just five minutes before the bombing occurred. If she had been any slower, she might have been injured or killed.

She praised God for protecting her. I guess I can understand that thinking. After all, Bill was in the Pentagon on 9/11, and his office had just been moved the week prior. Had it not been relocated, he probably would have died that day, and I’d be an old spinster. Was it God that protected Bill that day? Or was he just very lucky? Was God protecting the marathon runner, or did she simply avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like millions of other people who didn’t die that day?

And what of the people who did die or get hurt? Was God NOT protecting them? Were they being punished? Was it just their time to die? Or was it simply the work of evil people with no respect for other people’s lives?

I truly don’t know the answers. I think it’s comforting to give it up to God, but common sense tells me that’s fallacious thinking at work. I inherited my mother’s pragmatic side. When I was a child, I had a really great imagination, mainly because I spent a lot of time alone. Whenever I came up with something really silly or fantastic, my mom would laugh. I don’t know why she was like that, since she is herself a very creative and artistic person. She makes beautiful music and creates incredible works of art with her needles– knitting, needlepoint, cross-stitch, and other such things. She is also a lifelong Christian, although not a particularly devout one. She always went to church, but it was mainly because she was the church’s organist most of the time.

My dad was notably stronger in his Christian beliefs, I think… however, I think my mom is a better person than he was. Or, at least she was less abusive to me. He seemed to be more of a believer than she was, anyway… although I always suspected he used church for a social outlet and business purposes, as well as a place to show off his singing voice. He was very proud of it, and church was one place he could indulge his pride. As we know, some “Christians” don’t always really behave in a Christ-like way. Some might say that I’m not one to talk about that; but then, I don’t claim to be a super devout Christian myself.

I’m grateful when people I know manage to escape things like bombings, natural disasters, crime scenes, or other situations. I don’t know that I would necessarily credit God, though… because why would God choose certain individuals to save, while others are forsaken? And why would a loving, protective God allow such horrors to take place in the first place? Where was God when Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev were making and planting their pressure cooker bombs? Where is God when anyone decides to do evil things? Why is it that God is there when someone is “saved”, but not when someone falls down the dark rabbit hole that causes them to do such awful things?

I’m sure there are devout Christians out there who can confidently answer my questions. However, I’m not sure I would be satisfied what they’d tell me. I’ve probably already considered their answers. Usually, what they say is something along the lines of “It was God’s will” or “God needed another angel” or something like that. I don’t blame them. Those thoughts are comforting. I do it myself when I lose a dog and think of them going to the Rainbow Bridge, joyfully meeting all of my other long lost animal friends.

When we lost Arran last month, I was grateful to God that he had a relatively peaceful end… and was pretty active up until the last twelve hours of his life. But maybe he was just very lucky… as were Bill and I to have him in our lives in the first place… as is Noyzi to no longer live on the streets of Pristina, but instead getting to live a cushy life in Germany with Americans. The odds were surely against Noyzi having that life, right?

Hmmm… maybe God had something to do with it, after all. Who knows?

Well, I think I’ll stop dwelling on today’s deep thoughts and move on with the day. That may simply mean retiring to my bedroom and reading more of my latest book, hoping not to fall asleep. 😉

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