I wrote this piece on January 22, 2015. I am sharing it again because of yesterday’s post, which reminded me of a 2018 post that was “fathered” by my homage to Carl. I’ll probably repost those 2018 posts later, just to preserve them. Carl was a wonderful man, and it was nice to remember how kind and generous he was, even until the end of his life. I’m grateful I was able to speak to him one last time in November 2014.
As I woke up this morning, I checked Facebook, which is my usual habit. My cousin, Lori, posted that her dad, my Uncle Carl, had passed away. I wasn’t surprised by the news. He was suffering from leukemia and my mom told me a couple of days ago that Carl was on hospice and had been told there was nothing more to be done.
Carl was one of my dad’s four brothers, younger by about seven years. He was a great dancer, very friendly, loving, and warm. For many years, he worked in Natural Bridge, Virginia, running all the tourist attractions. Later, he worked in Luray. Carl had a son and a daughter, eleven years apart in age. He also had five grandchildren, three of whom are now grown and two that are still very young.
Over Thanksgiving in 2014, I sat down with Carl and we had a long talk. One of my other uncles, my aunt’s husband, Bill, interrupted us briefly to comment on a “houseguest” Carl was hosting, a young guy with serious OCD issues who had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. The guy couldn’t live with his girlfriend because she was getting welfare and it was against the rules for her to co-habitate. Uncle Bill said, “Carl, that guy at your house is a POW.” I looked up at him questioningly and he clarified, “Piece of work.”
Carl then started telling me about this young guy who had moved into a spare apartment on his property. He didn’t pay rent and couldn’t keep a job. Carl told me his wife, Betty, could barely stand to be around him. But Carl was determined to help this young fellow. He did all he could to try to hook him up with people who could help him… ministers and social workers, even though the guy wasn’t interested in that kind of help. He let him live in the apartment, even though the guy didn’t pay rent. Carl said the guy did pay for his electric bills and food, at least.
As Carl was telling me about his “guest”, he focused on the positive, saying that the apartment was kept immaculately clean, thanks to the guy’s issues with obsessive compulsive disorder. He liked having the apartment lived in rather than sitting empty. If no one lived there, he still wouldn’t be getting any money for the place.
I got the feeling that Carl just wanted to be kind and helpful, even though many people told him that he was being used and was enabling his houseguest’s irresponsible behavior. Many people told him to toss the POW out on his ass. But Carl wouldn’t do it. He wanted to be a positive force in the young guy’s life.
I have a feeling that Carl’s “POW” is about to lose his free ride. My Aunt Betty has been ill with Alzheimer’s Disease and Carl had been taking care of her. When we saw each other at Thanksgiving time, Carl told me that his wife’s illness was getting worse and they often had the same conversations repeatedly because she would forget. Betty can’t live by herself, so arrangements will no doubt have to be made. That will likely mean that Carl’s POW friend will need to move on. ETA: Aunt Betty passed in October 2018.
I will miss my Uncle Carl. He was a very loving and decent person. He loved his family very much and was always smiling and laughing. He was deeply caring and empathetic, yet he had a fun loving side, too. I wish I had access to my wedding photos. I have a hilarious picture of him at my wedding with a red rose between his teeth and a big toothy grin. Every time I saw Carl, he was happy to see me. He always gave me big bear hugs and he loved to just sit and talk and tell stories. He told a funny story at my dad’s memorial just two months ago. I will always treasure that memory and am grateful that he was able to spend his last holidays with his loved ones instead of in a hospital room.
I am not a very religious person, but I picture my dad up in heaven, waiting to show Carl the way to the rest of his loved ones who passed before him. Four of Granny’s nine children have gone home now.
The featured photo is of the ceiling at Mount Stuart House in Scotland. Below is what I wrote about the photo in my original post about Carl’s death.
This is a picture of the ceiling at Mount Stuart House on the Isle of Bute in Scotland. Bill and I visited there in 2012. We had a wonderful little Scottish lady giving us a tour and she was a great storyteller. She told us about how the house was used as a Naval hospital during World War I. As she was telling us about the house under this beautiful ceiling, she talked about sick and injured military men, waking up to see that ceiling. She said, in her delightful Scottish brogue, “One look at that and you would surely think you’d crossed the bar!” I like to think that Carl and my dad both saw something amazing as they slipped away beyond the bar… Maybe they saw something even more amazing than the ceiling at Mount Stuart…
This video reminds me a bit of Rockbridge County… where my dad’s family is from…
Years ago, I got hooked on the old comedy show, Mad TV. I still laugh at some of the hilarious and decidedly not politically correct skits and sketches they did on that show. One that is sticking out in my head this morning is “That’s My White Mama”. That sketch was a parody of the 70s sitcom, That’s My Mama, which was about a single Black guy whose “tart tongued and opinionated mother” wanted him to settle down and get married.
That’s My Mama aired 39 episodes from 1974-1975. I was two years old in 1974, and we moved to England in 1975, so I didn’t see the show when it originally aired. I do remember there were reruns in syndication, but I never actually watched more than an episode or two. I probably would have liked it. My mom told me that when I was very young, the only show I liked on TV was Good Times.
An episode of That’s My Mama… I never knew that Ted Lange (aka Isaac the bartender on The Love Boat) was on this show…
I am old enough to remember That’s My Mama, and years ago, I got the joke when comedian Artie Lange created his parody of that show. Again, I didn’t see it when it originally aired, because I was in Armenia. But I saw the reruns.
“Don’t make me break my foot off in yo ass!”
“You don’t want to wake up my mama.”
As I’m thinking about that sketch, I’m also reading about Artie Lange’s life. He’s yet another funny man who’s experienced a lot of sadness and tragedy in his life. It seems like some of the most hilarious people have the saddest real life stories. Lange has struggled with drug addiction, run ins with the police, poor academic performance, mental health issues, physical health issues, and a father who became a quadriplegic after he fell off a ladder and broke his back. It’s amazing that even in the wake of so many personal struggles, Lange was still able to be funny.
Yesterday, I wrote about how Ex has apparently had a very difficult time letting her adult children spread their wings and fly out of the nest. I mentioned how, when younger daughter got married, Ex repeatedly called and texted her during her honeymoon. There younger daughter was, probably doing certain things for the very first time, and Ex was interrupting her with invitations to go swimming and eat pizza. That was just one of many revelations we heard about; there were many others and, of course, I’ve been observing for over 20 years. This is a “mama” who doesn’t want her children to live their own lives on their own terms.
This morning, I noticed that Ex was back on Twitter. Someone was trying to organize a group trip to Scotland for all the Twitter folk who like to watch Outlander. Naturally, Ex, who has made no secret about her “dream” of visiting Scotland, expressed a desire to participate. A bunch of people– mostly women, from what I can see– seem very excited about the prospect of the event.
Ex wrote:
This would really be amazing although I feel like a wallflower already… I think I’d feel like one in person, as well.
Bill told me that he and Ex rarely went to “nice” restaurants, because Ex felt uncomfortable in them. They also couldn’t afford to dine in nice places, because Ex was constantly buying stuff– everything from depression glass to new cars– off of Bill’s single paycheck.
When the organizer said she should “save her pennies” to afford the trip, Ex wrote:
Yes but how many?!?! I’ve got three autistic children and desperately need other things, a computer, a car, acting scholarships for my daughter… how could I possibly?!?!
Um… she has five children, four of whom are legal adults, and two of whom are married, and have their own families in other states. Her youngest is 16 years old. He has severe autism, and obviously needs his mother’s help, which he actually gets from Bill’s older daughter. The other two “autistic children” are adults, and they both function well enough to go to college. One of the “children” she writes of is my husband’s 31 year old older daughter, who is reportedly in graduate school, so Ex can sponge off of her student loans.
I also find it interesting that Ex includes needing “acting scholarships for her daughter (who is supposedly also an autistic ‘child’)” as her responsibility. Especially when we learned that Ex’s eldest child actually won a scholarship to an acting school in New York City, but Ex sabotaged it. Now she wants her youngest daughter to find an acting scholarship in Scotland? What if she actually did find one? Would Ex let her go without trying to fuck the whole thing up for her?
Another poster wrote this:
I hope I can make it. I am still not working. I really want to go. And I haven’t even got my passport yet so that’s gonna take some time being out of work is not fun but my rotator cuff injury dictate what I do at this point.
Seems to me that if this person (who is not Ex) has this many obstacles, she should probably not plan on going and focus on improving her situation so she can make realistic plans. I only included her response, though, because Ex followed up with this comment:
I’m with you! I’m about to have surgery on my ankle/Achilles tendon!! Ugh…
And when I read this, I couldn’t help but remember Artie Lange’s funny parody. I said to Bill, “Does she need surgery because she broke her foot off in one of her children’s asses?” In all seriousness, it doesn’t surprise me to hear that she needs surgery. She broke her foot when she and Bill were married, because she was gardening with bare feet. I’ll bet it’s the same ankle that is causing her issues now.
Ex’s final statement on this event, upon learning that tickets to the event in Scotland were “limited”, was this:
Oh Lordy… tickets limited and everything eh? I’m guessing no room for wallflowers after all?
Hmmm… a ploy for sympathy, perhaps? Or some other “pity play”, as H.G. Tudor would put it?
I suppose I’m glad to read that she’s not making plans to go to Scotland, in spite of having so many needs. In the past, she would have just gone, regardless. One time, she went on a trip to an LDS temple, instead of paying the mortgage on the house that she and Bill once owned, and she eventually let go into foreclosure. She claimed the Lord would provide, as she went to the temple, where she claimed that Heavenly Father would not let her spend her life alone. This was a very typical response she had to any serious responsibility she had– the Lord will provide… or maybe more accurately, someone else can be guilted or suckered into taking care of the problem. It never seems to occur to her that her actions have consequences that affect people far and wide. Her choice to go to the temple, rather than pay her mortgage, helped cause the house to go into foreclosure, which affected Bill, and by proxy, also affected me. And I’ve never even met this bitch in person!
I can see that Ex doesn’t care too much about flying anymore, either. One of the excuses she gave Bill for not allowing us to have visits with his daughters was that she was terrified of letting them fly, due to terrorism and the prospect of them dying in a plane crash. I guess she’s over that fear now, since it no longer suits her purposes. 😉 Of course, the real reason she didn’t want them to visit was because she couldn’t stand to allow them out of her sphere of influence, and she was afraid they might want to live with us instead of her and #3. She couldn’t bear the idea of them bonding with their other parent, and getting a break from her relentless ploys for attention and demands for complete obedience and control.
I realize that Ex is mentally ill, and she has real issues that stem from her own traumas. However, I also know that Ex is fully aware that her behaviors are wrong. How do I know? Because she doesn’t let that extreme “control freak” side of her show on social media. Based on what she puts out for public consumption, she’s a devoted mom, and super friendly and “cool”. If you know the truth about her, though, you realize that this is an elaborate facade, designed to recruit new victims.
It also occurs to me that the person who is organizing this event to allow online friends to meet offline is really opening herself up to potential exploitation. But then, I guess one does that whenever one meets someone in person. You just never know what lurks beneath the surface of a person’s outer layer. By all superficial appearances, Ex is a very “normal” person. But the reality is, she’s anything but normal. She has raised four of her five children to adulthood, but she’s still clinging to them and using them to form an identity. She’d like them to treat her like a child and give her that idyllic childhood era back. But she’d also like to be in charge, call all the shots, make all of the decisions about money, and have the ability to kick people out of the house and lure them back in at will…
Younger daughter briefly mentioned that Ex did kick her out of the house once. But then, when younger daughter got married, she wanted to intrude on her honeymoon and get her and her new husband to move back to where she lives… perhaps even in the same house! All I can think of is that it’s a miracle that younger daughter is so functional and sane, given what she’s been through in her life. She truly is a model of resilience.
Well… I’ve probably gone on enough about this. I never got around to practicing guitar yesterday, so I think I’ll log off and tend to that. Besides… I spend too much time fascinated by Ex. Don’t want her to break her foot off in my ass.
The featured photo is pretty much a description of how I feel today…
Greetings, blog fans. Happy hump day to you. Today’s big project was originally going to be taking Arran to the vet. I made a morning appointment last week, because I was the one who took him in for his chemo. Because his lymph nodes are swelling again, the vet wants to see him today. I hate going to the vet in the late afternoon. I feel like it spoils the whole day.
Bill was going to drive my Mini to work today, because it’s hard to get Arran in the backseat of the Mini, now that he’s an old man. The car definitely needs to be driven more than it is. Unfortunately, the Mini has been sitting in the garage for too long. The battery died. So now he has to come home later this morning, and I guess that means he’ll be taking Arran to the vet. That suits me fine. I hate going to the vet. I’ll do it, because I love my dogs, but it’s not one of my favorite chores. Especially when the dog has cancer. I guess Arran will get chemo today. Hopefully, it won’t affect him like it did last week.
SIGH…
It’s just as well, anyway, since it means I’ll be home to collect any deliveries that show up today. We are expecting a lightbulb for the oven, new contact lenses for me, and I have also ordered cheese from The Netherlands and my new computer, which is supposed to arrive Friday, but could realistically get here whenever. I look forward to having the new machine.
Yesterday’s music post was surprisingly successful. I probably should do more music instead of writing, but again, my computer is giving me some pretty big issues lately. Sometimes, I think big companies like Apple make their products so they fall apart after a specific period of time. My computers tend to die after four years. I’ve now owned three Mac desktops, not including the one on its way to me. All three basically turned to barely usable crap after four years. And all three are sitting in my office, because we need to dispose of them legally.
My current computer is now at a point at which it really can’t handle multiple tasks. I just spent several idle minutes waiting for the colorful spinning ball to quit spinning. Yesterday, I couldn’t make a decent video to go with my vocal track, because Photo Booth refused to work properly. It appeared to be videoing me, but then there was no video at the end of the song. So I had to use my newer laptop to get the job done, and then I couldn’t get the video to sync properly with the audio.
Anyway… it will be good to have a new computer. This one I’ve been using hasn’t been beaten as hard as my others have been. I actually use my iPad for a lot of things. But when it comes to writing blog posts or anything else, I much prefer to use a desktop computer. I also like to do my recordings on the big computer. So my new “blue” machine needs to get here, pronto. I see it’s just departed Hong Kong, where Apple has a big factory.
Lately, I’ve been hooked on the Audit the Audit videos on YouTube. Unlike Code Blue Cam, which seems to focus on good cops, the Audit the Audit videos seem more geared toward bad ones. They do, on occasion, feature good police officers, but it seems like the videos I’ve seen lately have shown cops who are on power trips.
I think it’s scary how easy it is to get in trouble with the police in the United States. Yesterday, I watched a video involving a 19 year old man who was harassed by the cops for suspected truancy because he had a backpack and was near a school. The guy didn’t want to show the police his identification, so they eventually transported him against his will to a local school, where it was determined that he wasn’t a student there.
Seems like a big waste of time.
Here’s another video I just discovered as I’m writing this… The cops arrested this young man for walking in the street, but then had to let him go.
Yikes! This is insane.
The cop in this case is a real jerk. He trespassed on this fellow’s property, acted like the landowner was being rude, when he was intruding, and then wouldn’t leave.
And now, I’m going to segue into an inappropriate discussion about Ex…
As I watch these crazy ass videos of cops who go too far or just far enough, I wonder how it is that Ex is still on the loose. She’s always looking for “help”, especially of the financial kind. A few days ago, she was back to swooning over Outlander, and she posted this…
Ordinarily, I might just have a giggle at Ex’s assertion that she “needs” to learn to speak Gaelic to her “ancestral relatives”. I’ve been to Scotland several times now, and I have yet to encounter a single Scot who speaks Gaelic exclusively. I did notice, when we were in Ireland, that there were parts of Ireland where some signs were in Gaelic. But I never saw that in Scotland. Maybe she might encounter a Gaelic speaker in the hinterlands of Scotland, where very few people live. I doubt she would ever get to those places, though.
I’m not saying Ex shouldn’t try to learn Gaelic if she wants to do that. Scotland is apparently officially trying to preserve the language. As Ex’s Twitter friend points out, she could even learn some Gaelic for free on Duolingo. Bill uses that app every day for German practice. However, I do think learning Gaelic just so she can “speak to the natives”, is kind of stupid and pretentious. And it’s also something she’s just throwing out there for show, because I highly doubt that even if she ever became fluent in Gaelic, she’d ever use it, even in Scotland.
I probably wouldn’t have posted about this interaction today, save for the last bit of Ex’s second comment. Note where she writes, “Now all I need is a rich sponsor to pay for my trip; I have to bring my three autistic children!!!”
None of her “children” could be described as actual children. She has one son who is now 16 years old and evidently has severe autism. The other four are all legal adults, aged 35, 31, 29, and almost 20. Moreover, while older daughter supposedly has been diagnosed with being “on the spectrum”, it’s not like Ex did anything at all about that until older daughter was herself an adult. The first we heard of her supposed autism/Asperger’s Syndrome was when she was 20 years old. Prior to that, Ex basically described her as “dumb” or “weird”.
I am not kidding. When older daughter was a child, Ex once sent Bill an email that read something along the lines of, “I don’t know what we’re going to do with that girl. She’s just dumb.” Now, she’s acting like her very reason for being is championing all of her children’s hopes and dreams. Her actions don’t match what she says.
I’m not sure who she’s claiming as the third “child” with autism. Maybe it’s her daughter with #3. Who knows? I get the sense that she sees mothering a child with autism as some kind of special badge of honor. If one is “good”, three must be better, right? But even if she has two other adult “children” with autism, they are highly functional. She doesn’t need to label them in a way that implies that they are abnormal, even if technically, they are. One of them is apparently attending graduate school, and the other is reportedly a college student.
As for Ex going anywhere with her “three autistic children”, I don’t see it happening. A year ago, she was moaning about how her youngest child runs away and needs a securely fenced in area so he can be outside without constant supervision. She was trying to crowdfund that project. And she has a habit of buying stuff when she can’t pay her bills. So, I doubt she will ever manage to take this “dream trip” of hers. But she still dreams of finding that “rich uncle” to help her achieve her elusive dreams.
I’d like to know why a “rich sponsor” would give Ex money for a trip to Scotland. What would be the purpose? No one should feel sorry for Ex. She makes it sound like she has her hands full with “three autistic children”, but two of the children aren’t actually kids anymore. The other is an older teenager whom, she says, runs away. If that’s the case, then maybe traveling with him isn’t a great idea. Or, perhaps she is exaggerating his condition. At this point, who knows?
I think what is most interesting about Ex’s latest tweets is that, once again, she’s outwardly and openly asking strangers for money. Sure, she does it in sort of a joking, dreaming way, but there’s truth in jest, right? And she has a history of getting people to feel sorry for her, or acting like she’s helping them, when she’s really just trying to make them feel like they have to reciprocate her “kindness”… which isn’t actually kindness at all. She likes it when people “owe” her, even though she isn’t very good about repaying the debts she owes.
So where are the overreaching police where Ex is? I don’t like to see the cops abusing their power, but Ex has been getting away with her shit for so many years. Isn’t it time she got busted for her obvious deceit? Well, I can dream, can’t I?
Anyway… I suppose it’s time to wrap up this post and practice guitar. This slow computer is bringing me down. Hopefully, Arran will have a good vet check. He’s not any worse off this week than he was last week. He just has bigger lymph nodes. I hate canine cancer.
I had kind of a crappy weekend. We had bad weather. Bill had to leave for another weeklong business trip yesterday. Saturday night, I found an enlarged lymph node on Arran, which indicates that the chemo is starting to fail. Arran is still acting like himself. In fact, he let me stay in bed until about 4:15am, when I finally got up by my own choice and asked him if he wanted to eat. He practically leapt out of the bed and danced all the way downstairs. I think we were all hungry, because I didn’t make dinner last night. I was too busy watching Body Cam cop videos on YouTube and drinking beer. I only had two, though, so that wasn’t bad.
I started reading a compelling new book last night. I’m already well into it, because I didn’t sleep well. I woke up at about 2:00am, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I finally dozed off for about an hour, and Bill sent me a private message, which made my watch vibrate. I do love that man… but now I’m feeling kind of cranky and snarky. I see the weather is still kind of yucky, too. So, I might as well rag on Ex again. Why not?
Last week, I mentioned that I found out that I have ties to the Fraser clan in Scotland. Ex also proudly claims to have ties to the Fraser clan. We seem to have ties to different branches of that clan, which fills me with relief. I’m not particularly proud to have ties to the Fraser clan. I don’t know much about them. But, if I have to have ties to them, I’d prefer them to be distant from Ex’s professed ties. She’s not someone I want to share DNA with at all.
Truth be told, according to Ancestry.com, I have ties to quite a few different clans. Make no mistake, though… I am an American. I was born there, and have spent most of my life living there– in Virginia, mostly. Germany is catching up in terms of the number of years where I’ve lived. It’s now in second place. I’ve spent about ten years in Germany– a total of six living in Baden-Württemberg, and so far, four in Hessen.
I’m still an American, though… even though 23andMe has only found a slight trace of Native American DNA. If I were to go only by my DNA, I’d definitely be a Brit… and most likely, a Scot. However, it’s been a few hundred years since my ancestors last lived in Scotland and other parts of the British Isles. Most of them moved to the United States in the 1600s and 1700s. So, I think calling myself Scottish would be impractical, disingenuous, and kind of pretentious.
Sure, I definitely look the part, and I definitely enjoy Scottish humor and libations, and sometimes I wish I could be anything other than a US citizen, especially given the dark road our country has been on of late. But Donald Trump is half Scottish, so that’s reason enough for me to embrace some of my other heritage. 😉
Ex, on the other hand, is convinced that she’s a Scot. And not only is she a Scot, but she’s downright aristocratic. She never misses a chance to brag about it on Twitter, either. She’s a super fan of Outlander, which I just realized is on Netflix. I’ve never seen the show, and before I started watching Ex’s Twitter feed, had never heard of the author of the books or the actors who portray the characters. Ex is apparently obsessed with them, and has now adopted Scotland as her “home”. To my knowledge, she’s never even been there to visit, but she does have an active fantasy life.
A few days ago, she was all excited about Robert Burns…
Thanks for this lovely tribute to Robert Burns!! Sam is a great example of how much we Scots love him and all he does for the heart and soul of Scotland. I for one long to go home to Scotland and just breath… Slàinte Mhath, Tash!! Happy Burns night!!
Um… I’d love to know if Ex even knows the most basic of poetry written by Robert Burns. Oh, maybe she knows “Auld Lang Syne”. I remember the first poem I knew was written by him, but I learned it due to being in a choir. It had been set to music, just as “Auld Lang Syne” is. Below is the version we did in 1991, done by a different university’s choir.
Aw….how pretty. Makes me want to join another choir. I still remember the soprano part and the words. Music is a good partner to the English major.
This version is beautifully done. Better than the one above, in my opinion. The first version is probably more like what my choir sounded like. We didn’t have enough really good male singers.
I’d be surprised if Ex even knows the poem, “A Red, Red Rose.” But maybe she’s gotten into Scottish poetry and reads it in bed, after an Outlander watch party. Bill says when they were married, she was obsessed with Ireland. They even had claddagh rings. Older daughter has an Irish first name, too. It was chosen by Bill, but Ex downplays that fact. Now, she’s obsessed with Scotland…
Funny thing about Ireland. Bill’s surname is Irish, and to me, he really looks Irish. But, according to our DNA tests, I’m more Irish than he is. 😀 My maiden name originated in England, and I’d always assumed we were mostly English by ancestry. Apparently not.
I’d barely recovered from Ex’s crowfest about Robert Burns, complete with fake “Scottishisms”, when someone posted another photo of her dream man, Sam Heughan (who looks a lot like Ron Howard, to me). Ex wrote:
I love this pic on the right. He was out and about when he saw a fan trying to snap a picture… so he flashed them his sweetest smile. He loves the fans and respects them… let’s make sure we ALL reciprocate!
But then she is gently corrected…
It wasn’t a fan, it was paparazzi.
So then she writes:
Ohhh that actually makes me sad, then. I’d heard it was a random fan. I wish the press would leave celebrities alone and concentrate on matters that need our attention, dire or uplifting. Extra pics of our favorites can’t make us love them more after all!!!
Um… she wants the press to leave celebrities alone, yet she’s constantly tweeting at them and asking them to give her daughter an internship. See Mark Hamill, Sam Heughan, Chris Evans, and Diana Galbadon… I guess she doesn’t see herself at the same level of peskiness as a paparazzo. Based on what happened to Bill during his relationship with her, I would say she is every bit as damaging, if not more so.
Next, there’s a gushy post about how handsome Sam Heughan is, and another poster writes:
Today, I told my long time husband, “I apologize for never being slender.” It’s not in my DNA. I said it because I see him perk up at women, who I don’t think are attractive, but they’re slender. Then I said, “You can apologize for not being a 6’3″ buff ‘red’ haired young man.”
Ex responds thusly:
Och aye!
It’d be hypocrisy to objectify @SamHeughan (&@ChrisEvans) best looking men I’ve seen, but I don’t think it’s just looks that make me feel that way. I think it’s his heartfelt philanthropy, genuine desire to help others be healthy, the way he lives his best life.
It seems to me that Ex would be best off not ever meeting her heroes. I doubt they would live up to her impressions of them. I also know that her ideas of the perfect man are constantly evolving. She demands that her men play a role, rather than be who they are. What I think is sad is that she had a truly wonderful, caring, willing partner in Bill, but he wasn’t good enough for her. So now, she’s with #3, who apparently never even bothered to give her a wedding ring. See below:
Yeni… I have been married nearly 21 years and do not have a wedding band.
…I’m totally there with you! The teacher should have returned this and apologized. IMHO!
The above comment was in response to a post someone made about a teacher who had confiscated a love note from a 7th grader who had given it to a classmate. The note quoted When Harry Met Sally. “Yeni” had said she never got something so romantic from her husband, and Ex decided to throw shade at #3, I guess.
She did have a ring with Bill, but they were cheap, gold plated affairs. When Bill and I got married, we bought platinum rings from Mervis Jewelers in the Washington, DC area. That was important to him. He wanted good wedding rings for our marriage, so our marriage wouldn’t resemble a country song…
I don’t think Bill knew this song in 2002, but I think he and Ex actually got rings from a pawn shop.
Next, she crows about a new season of the show, complete with a clear indication of her priorities.. Ex isn’t “from New England”, either. She just lives there right now…
I’m from New England, US. I put it on my family calendar so I would NOT forget to watch & share. I labeled it “Mom Unavailable”. When that popped up on my phone I didn’t know what it was for!
Spent all day trying to remember, how could I forget this:
That actually makes me laugh, because it’s as if she ever is available to her kids. I happen to know that her kids were generally expected to take care of themselves, often to criminal levels. They were also expected to take care of her, too… as in doing all of the cooking and housework. Woe be unto anyone who made a dish Ex doesn’t want to eat, either, even if there’s no food in the house.
Of course, now four of the five of the kids are adults, but they mostly raised themselves. It’s a shame, too, because Bill had really wanted to raise his kids. She wouldn’t allow it. And now older daughter is taking care of her youngest… whom Ex describes, after a tweet about Tyre Nichols:
This terrifies me. I’m mother to a large, strong non-compliant autistic boy. If they told my baby to sit down, he would; but he would run away home the second he could. This beating could have happened to my son, anyone’s son. There is no service or protection here just murder.
Yes… and she uses that “boy” every opportunity she can, to prop up her “caring supermom” facade. Meanwhile, instead of looking after her son, she tweets at more strangers with creepy preludes like this:
I’m only 45 minutes from Boston! We’re neighbors! When the cast comes again, let’s go together!
And…
Och aye!!! I want to come and make your acquaintance!! I’ve been doing my genealogy and have traced my mother’s line to the Frasers du Lovat up in the Highlands!! We’d have so much fun!
And…
Oh Cat, we love you so… love your hat #samwho too btw!! Without Claire, there would be no Jamie to swoon over. I’d say, just as many swoon over Claire and the way in which you play her, as swoon over Jaime and the way @SamHeughan plays him.
I wonder if the actors and authors Ex tweets are weirded out by these breathless, gushing, adoring posts?
I was going to ignore all of this stuff, though. I really was. I keep telling myself that I need to find a new topic to write about. Maybe do something more serious and useful to the general public or something… but let’s not kid ourselves. This is just a blog, right? And I’m just the interloper who married her divorced ex husband, whom she totally screwed over on every level. I decided not to ignore it when I saw this. Yet another declaration of her being Scottish by blood…
She can’t just say she’s disgusted. She has to bring up her alleged fancy Scottish heritage again… to a perfect stranger. LOL… Then she moves on to Lynda Carter’s page, where she swoons and sucks up some more. It’s enough to make me want to hurl. 😉
I’m beginning to feel like H.G. Tudor on YouTube, who has made so many videos about Meghan Markle. I think Ex and Meghan have a few things in common, although Meghan is younger, prettier, skinnier, more famous, and much wealthier. H.G. Tudor would tell me to stop paying attention to what Ex does… but he doesn’t really follow his own advice, because he makes so many videos about people he claims are narcissists. But then, H.G. claims that he’s a narcissist, too.
I don’t claim to be a narcissist. It’s possible that I have narcissistic traits, as most people do. But I don’t have that particular personality disorder. If I did, Bill would be long gone by now. I think I’m just a garden variety eccentric, made dysfunctional by alcoholism and neglect on the part of my parents. I have empathy, especially for Bill. I appreciate him for all he does. I don’t even get crushes anymore. He’s absolutely the right man for me, and boy do I miss him when he has to go away for the week. I will always be grateful to Ex for dumping him.
Actually, as Bill and I were talking about Arran and how he will probably be leaving us, soon, we both expressed appreciation for his original adopters. They kept him for nine months, calling him Marley. Then they brought him back to the rescue. He’s turned out to be a wonderful dog for us. We’re grateful they brought him back to the rescue, even though I know it really hurt Arran to be “dumped”.
Likewise, as disgusted as I am by Ex’s spectacles on social media, and the way she gushes at celebrities and strangers, as she abuses people she supposedly loves, when it comes down to it, I feel gratitude, too. Because when she divorced Bill, she gave me a tremendous gift. He’s the right man for me. I’m genuinely glad he wasn’t “good enough” for her.
Still… I totally cringe when she claims to be a Scot… and I kind of wish many more of my people had hooked up with some French and German people, instead. 😀 Then I remind myself that, yes… I am an American, as Ex also is, and as an American, I should try to be a good example of our people to the Germans I live among today. So I think I’ll end this post and do something constructive… play some guitar and maybe cook a roast, or something. That will make Arran happy, and maybe I’ll be less hangry tomorrow. Ciao.
I woke up at 5:41 am this morning, after having had a vivid dream about a southern town somewhere near where I came of age. I don’t remember much about the dream now. Sometimes, I wish I had Bill’s discipline, when it comes to recording dreams. He writes his down and sends them to his Jungian analyst. They talk about Bill’s dreams every week during their video chats.
I have vivid dreams, too, but I don’t remember most of them for long. Maybe I’m genetically less inclined to remember my rapid eye movements. It’s possible that this is a family trait.
Several years ago, I submitted samples to 23andMe and Ancestry.com. I started with 23andMe, because it seemed to be the more health focused of the two. It also had no ties to Mormonism. Some people may not know this, but the LDS church is big into genealogy. It’s so that members can “baptise” their dead family members who were around before Mormonism was. That way, those dead people can choose to be LDS in the afterlife.
Living members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints go to temples and do proxy baptisms for dead members of their families. Some also do “temple work” for dead celebrities, too, although they’re not supposed to do baptisms for people who aren’t relatives.
I know that, historically, descendants of Holocaust victims got pretty angry with the Mormons for “dead dunking” their family members murdered during World War II. Frankly, I find that practice pretty offensive, especially for people who died in the Holocaust because they were Jewish. These were people who literally died horrible, gruesome deaths for their beliefs. It’s beyond tacky to do a proxy baptism to allow dead Jewish people to be Mormons, as if they were wrong all along.
Faithful church members who do proxy baptisms for non-related people will simply shrug off the thought that they’re being offensive. They say that if the church isn’t true, it doesn’t matter if they “dead dunk” Holocaust victims. The ceremony is meaningless.
If you’ve been following this blog, you may already know why I don’t like Mormonism. These days, I’m somewhat less vitriolic toward the church than I once was. I still don’t like the church’s doctrine because I think it’s harmful to some people. My husband’s ex wife used it as a “reason” to alienate Bill from his daughters. She got everyone to join the church. Then, when Bill realized he didn’t believe in Mormonism, she told his daughters that he wasn’t worthy to be their father. He wouldn’t be going to the Celestial Kingdom because, when he ultimately resigned his membership, he turned his back on the “one true church”. Never mind that she’s not going there, either.
Ex has now apparently given up on Mormonism. It doesn’t suit her purposes anymore. However, Bill’s daughters are still believers. Younger daughter is particularly faithful. I also know that the church, which Ex had once tried to weaponize, was very helpful in helping younger daughter escape her mother’s clutches. I’m grateful to church members for that… and I know there are good people in the church. Nowadays, I try to be less negative about the LDS church, even though I still don’t like the doctrine. In fairness, though, I’m not a very religious person, anyway.
Ancestry.com has no legal ties to Mormonism, but it was founded by church members who, no doubt, tithe. I know that church members can be very persistent in tracking down inactive members. I don’t like to support organizations that make pests of themselves, especially religious organizations. After some time, I changed my mind about Ancestry.com. It probably happened when Bill started talking to younger daughter again, and she proved that she isn’t completely brainwashed.
23andMe recently made me .2 percent less Brit… 😉
After I changed my mind about Ancestry.com, I finally did a DNA test with them. The results were very interesting. DNA wise, my results were very similar to what 23andMe found. Both tests have my DNA down as extremely British and Irish. There’s a slight discrepancy on some of the other DNA predictions. 23andMe has me down as having a little Finnish and Spanish ancestry. Ancestry has me with Norwegian, Swedish, and Welsh. However, on both tests, my DNA has me as well over 90% British and Irish. Ancestry.com breaks it down even further, indicating that my DNA is (at this writing) 56% Scottish. No wonder I feel so at home there!
My people were homebodies, I guess…
One of the other advantages to Ancestry.com is that there’s a ton of genealogical data there. Recently, a lot more data has become available for my own family origins. I’ve been updating my family tree accordingly, finding little historical twigs from people who came from Switzerland, Sweden, The Netherlands, Germany, and France. Earlier test results on the DNA tests had indicated that I had some origins in those countries, too. The results change as more DNA is added to the databases. For example, at one time, 23andMe indicated that I had Swiss DNA. Then it changed, and the Swiss connection went away. But based on my family tree on Ancestry.com, I do actually have some Swiss family members.
Neither test shows that I have much French DNA, but I’ve found French people in my family tree. Ditto for Germany… I actually know for sure that I have some German relatives. However, when it comes to my DNA, the connection isn’t as clear. Maybe that’s why I’m so short! I think it’s helpful to remember that the DNA analysis traces all the way back… not just within the past few hundred years.
So far, all branches of my family tree go back to about 1500 or so, which may be when people started keeping records. But the DNA goes back much further than that. It’s pretty mind boggling, if you think about it for too long. Bearing that in mind, it makes sense that my DNA would be overwhelmingly British and Irish, even though I can spot random other Europeans in my family tree. That French and Swiss DNA would be a tiny contribution, compared to the huge number of Brits who went into making me. 😉
And now, you may be wondering… what does all of this have to do with my post’s title? Well, now I’ll explain.
As I wrote further up post, I’ve recently been adding new people to my family tree. Some of it has been truly fascinating. I’ve mentioned many times that I was born and raised in Virginia. Indeed, the vast majority of my relatives were also born and raised in Virginia, starting from the 1600s, or so. My family was in Virginia from the very beginning of its existence.
I can see how they migrated from Scotland, England, and Ireland to Virginia, working their way down from Massachusetts or Pennsylvania, and settling in the Shenandoah Valley or further south, near the North Carolina border. Both sides of my dad’s side of the family are mostly from Rockbridge County. My mom’s dad came from Grayson County. Her mother came from Amherst. However, I did have at least one relative from way back who was born in Gloucester County, which is where I grew up.
All of these discoveries were fascinating to me. But then I stumbled across one that really gave me pause… Behold!
You will notice the name Fraser…
I was updating my tree yesterday, when I noticed that my great grandmother’s ancestry connects her to the Fraser family. The Frasers are a prominent Scottish clan. I know this, in part, because a few years ago, Bill and I were on a Hebridean whisky cruise, and there we met a very obnoxious fellow American. Her last name was Fraser. She wore the Fraser tartan at the two gala dinners. When I met this woman, I didn’t know much about my ancestry. I just knew that I liked the Scots. 😉 Anyway, the American Fraser woman on our cruise was very proud of her heritage and never ceased to let us know about it.
A few years later, I started to pay more attention to my husband’s ex wife’s online antics. Over the past year or so, she’s been claiming that she’s related to a certain aristocratic Scottish family. Now, I have no way of knowing if Ex is really related to this family or if this is another one of her fantasies… I do know she was adopted. I don’t know if she’s claiming ties based on her DNA or her adoptive family. But this is what she’s been posting lately…
Hmm…given that, I now have hope that my stories will make it to print. The method you enjoy…works! Please, just keep doing it; you create lives, no small feat! Remember me, though; it would be a delight to collaborate. I’m a Fraser du Lovat, by the way, & that’s fun!!
The above quote comes from a post I wrote May 16, 2022. Ex was trying to engage the actors on Outlander. I don’t watch the show myself. I just know it’s a Scottish historical romance. Ex is so swept up in it that she’s claiming to be related to a well known Highland Scottish clan, Fraser du Lovat, which has origins in Inverness. I don’t know much at all about the Frasers du Lovat, or any other Scottish clan, for that matter. I never claimed to be of particularly noble breeding myself. But, if I’m to believe Ancestry.com, I’ve also got ties to the Fraser clan… although my ancestor is Sir Alexander Fraser, 8th Earl of Philorth, which is a Lowland clan.
Apparently, I have a Fraser as a grandfather on my dad’s side…
I know from cruising on Hebridean Princess, that Highlands and Lowlands of Scotland run right into each other. We visited the Glengoyne Distillery, just north of Glasgow. The guide told us that the distillery is located on the Highland Line. Consequently, Glengoyne’s stills are in the Highlands, while the maturing casks of whisky are across the road in the Lowlands. It’s considered a Highland whisky, even though the Lowlands are literally just yards away.
I wonder if Ex would react like Blanche if she found out that we could be extremely distant relatives… Maybe she might even quit bragging about her Fraser connection.
Again, I don’t know how accurate Ancestry.com’s family tree suggestions are. I also don’t have any reason whatsoever to believe Ex’s own claims about her ancestry. She has a long history of stretching the truth. She also has a very active fantasy life. BUT… I can’t help but be amused that I apparently have ties to the same big Scottish clan that she’s so proud of… which clearly seems to make her feel “special”. She feels so special that she tweets Sam Heughan on Twitter and claims to be descended from the Fraser du Lovat clan. And I… the hated homewrecking whore (which I’m actually REALLY not)… am apparently related to the Frasers of Philorth. 😉
Of course, all of that was very long ago… and I have other family ties that are interesting for other, and frankly better, reasons. I wish I could look at the whole tree at one time. But now it’s gotten very big and unwieldy. My ancestors were very prolific babymakers. It’s a bit mind boggling to realize that when I die, so will my particular branch of the tree. Oh well. It’s probably fitting that my branch got pruned… I also blame that on Ex.
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