Congratulations, Viki

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You have all the rights, privileges, and consequences along
with all the peril and ill health of being just as
mentally unhealthy as your biological father.

I wish you all the luck in the world
You are going to need it,

YOU have become a MONSTER
YOU ARE YOUR FATHER
YOU ARE
SCOTT NEAL MILLER!!!

3/19/2017
You are 100% disowned
and DISINHERITED
We’ll have an attorney help us to draw up the
paperwork, and the attorney will be the executor
You and your brother will have control of ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

Thank you for finally showing YOUR TRUE COLORS


(p.s. Just in case you are getting a wee bit emotionally high on the idea that you have hurt me, remember that I have been surrounded by sick people all my life, and that I have landed on my feet and VERY mentally healthy.  I can put this in it’s place and move on with a good conscious, and not one iota of bitterness.  I feel sorry for what you have….)

P.S.S: Just so you know…how did I know you went to California??
It was very simple–I asked myself: “What would Scott Miller do?”

What being stuck in the snow does for one’s sense of humor…

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Thursday, March 16, 2017

To Whom It May Concern,

My husband and I had the bad luck of having to stay in our car and ‘survive’ in the snow atop a mountain this week.  This ‘survival’ mode only lasted for two and a half days.

We arrived Sunday afternoon to only around 2-3 inches of snow after changing our flat tire.  Our low riding 4×4 Subaru Outback Legacy ™ got caught on a very small snow drift.  We used our poor dog’s blanket to try and get traction and get out, but alas our Subaru ™ was unable to use the Bratz ™ blanket.

We were unable to even dig our car out using simple Snapple bottles ™ where the bottom had been cut off in order to dig our way out.  I promise, I kid you not!!!

We decided to make ourselves comfortable and stay the first night.  We’d passed trucks coming from the other direction, we were sure we were safe.  Soon, the snow began to fall!  It just went on and on and on.  It continued to fall even more.  The next morning we were probably buried in a foot of snow.  At this point, we became acutely aware that we were probably in trouble.

I remembered that we had told our friend, a manager at Burger King ™ in the nearby town of Canyonville, Oregon that we were going to take photos at South Umpqua Falls and so I wasn’t much worried at all.  Well, at least for a while.  I was glad that I had even made sure to pack the extra ketchup packet from our food and stash it away in my pocket.  Burger King ™ uses Heinz™ brand you know!!

Well, that next day under a foot of snow. We had to figure out how to survive.  It’s sad but it’s true, that I learned the hard way that Eberhard’s ™ Ice Cream buckets are not only good for storing away dry dog food for long trips, but they also make very good toilets!  I have to admit that Kirkland paper towels make excellent toilet paper in a pinch.

We were soon thirsty and realized we’d be drinking melted snow. So we cut the bottoms out of an Aquafina water bottle.  The bottle became a very good snow scooper for letting the snow melt in (leave the lid on, turn upside down and it will stand in your drink stand), hence providing refreshing and life giving (no name brand, generic) water.

After our first night in the forest, I have to admit that my stomach began to feel a little pained. I started to be concerned about what we would eat.  I knew my husband had a small, two shot American Arms™ 410/45 Long Colt Derringer on his body, and so I prayed for a bunny to hop by. Then I remembered we had no way to start a fire, and so, I realized that more than likely lunch would be the Kirkland ™ Lamb & Rice dog food so highly recommended by our dogs vets over at DCLVS in Roseburg, Oregon.   So, defeated, and emotional eaters, we began to consume very small samples of the food.  We drank a lot of the generic water.

The first full day out there we tore up the upholstery on our front seats.  One seat provided us a bag in which to place both of our feet.  I have an inherited foot condition that makes it quite painful to walk.  That condition along with arthritis in my feet, and bad circulation kept my feet pretty cold.  So, my life partner told me to take off my wet socks, and place my feet in the upholstered bag with his so that he could transfer heat from his feet to mine.  I’ll tell you, there is no brand name for that kind of love!

The other front seat upholstery was cut open and placed over our legs like a blanket.  Atop of that was a liner bought to protect the car from our dog, Jake and all the hair he loses during his daily activities.  These along with our jackets (Bear Ridge ™ and REI ™)  made perfect layers and we only needed to run the engine full of gas from our local 76 ™ station in Tricity, Oregon every three or  four hours.  BTW, we did fill up before we left!

The first full day turned into the 2nd night, and probably another foot of snow fell.  We could barely get our car door open to dispose of bodily fluids, or to scoop new snow cones for drinking.  Egads!  By now, we really, really knew we were in trouble.   I spied the ketchup placed in the middle console and realized that it had a pal from Kentucky Fried Chicken™ a small container of Honey Mustard.  I asked my husband which he preferred and I shared with him the idea of a true gourmet dinner.  Fine dining at its best.  He refused my offer, I really don’t know why.  We ate more plain Kirkland ™ Lamb & Rice chow and drank lot’s and lot’s of generic (God freely given complete with dirt) water.  That day I also looked at a friend’s book that I needed to return, “Roberts Rules” copyright 1923, it looked like fire fodder to me.  But, alas, I remembered again, we had no matches! I was sad indeed.

The 2nd full day came and we were up with the sunrise.  Just like the day before we were having very deep and realistic conversations about if we were going to die. We were trying to figure out just how in the world, we could get someone’s attention. As with the day before, every time we started the engine we turned on our Duro ™ cell phone, and dialed 911, to no avail.  At the same time, we turned on our Vastfire ™ GPS, and pinged the minimum of four satellites each time.

I began to talk about how sad I would be if I died and my mother got the last word in our little tiff.  My husband offered very kindly to walk to find a soul who might remedy our situation.  He’d offered at least twice before.  The problem was now; I didn’t feel the need to disapprove of this very scary proposition.  I was facing being alone possibly in the dark; you know a whole other night.  I didn’t like that! After all, the night has always been a very scary place to be for me!

Since I had just approved of him walking away from me he decided to leave before I had a change of disposition.  It was early morn when he doubled up the Kirkland ™ paper towels, and placed them atop his head, sandwiched under a Dixie™ paper plate.  As he composed his hat to protect his head from the rain (yes, I said rain), I used a Bic ™ pen to write our names, health issues, and ages to help our eventual helpers to help us, the ones in need!  We just happened to have clips bought from Staples™ to pin those plates to the trees—  “Help Please, Clyde & Peggy Snyder, Heart Problems, HBP, Diabetic, 55, & 53!”

He emptied his camera case of its precious equipment, and he opened his package of doggie doo doo plastic bags—inside one of them we placed important cargo, three handfuls of Kirkland ™ Lamb & Rice.  Inside the camera case it went, along with the plates, clips, earphones (ear warmth—ok, ok, noise reduction) and the GPS.  He affixed a black plastic bag from Nick’s in Tricity (where the Snapple ™ & a 2 liter Pepsi ™ came from of course!) atop his head!

Alas the man kissed me! He promised he’d come back.  He left down road, I could not look back.  Being the emotional eater that I am, I started to look for breakfast… I spied that damn Kirkland ™ dog food and I tried not to puke.  My hand went for the bucket, and I grabbed quite a few, and I wondered how in the world I could make the crap go down oh, so smooth. I remembered the Heinz ™ ketchup and I grabbed it right up.  I slashed it open with a steak knife, and I dipped my first bite!  OMG, Glorious dog food. Kirkland ™, the BEST!!!

That was about 9ish in the morning the time that the man left me.  So, I’d consumed that damned dog food by a good 9:30—o’ clock.  I wrapped myself up in my foot bag, my blanket, and my dog liner for warmth. I used the car seat insulation for a pillow of course.  I folded up the Department of BLM, Oregon State Map ™, it was plastic coated and provided some insulation between my head and the window back west. I stared out the window and watched snow melt on down.  I noticed that the melting ice created a kaleidoscope of beauty of greys and white.  I thanked God for sharing his art with me.  I studied the artwork for hours it seemed….suddenly I was waking from a long winter’s sleep, but it was only 11 in the morning and I was too cold to sleep.

I turned on the engine; I still have ½ a tank. I ran it only for 10 minutes so that I could try and make it last at least a week.  Being the emotional eater than I am, I was convinced that I was starving….and I put in my hand.  Oh, glorious dog food, I tried not to puke I dipped it in honey mustard, and found out it was sad seconds to the ketchup. Just sayin’.

I had nothing more to do. My job it seemed was to survive so that I could live and see my man tomorrow. I didn’t want anymore of that Kirkland ™ lamb and rice!  All wrapped up again, I looked outside; I saw a little bent over man.  His bones were made of limbs of a tree, he wore a snow sombero, snow cape, and snow pants. I was pretty sure by this time I was getting a little delirious- I got out the Bic ™ pen and paper wrote down the time, my activities, and the time since my man left.  My little tree all wrapped up in snow clothes talked me to sleep and stayed with me for at least two hours. I turned on the engine at 2:30, I turned it off at 2:55.  At 3:00 I noted it had been about 6 hours, I prayed that I’d see or hear

Someone, anyone, in less than an hour.

At 3:15 – I noted two crosses on the window, God holding us in his arms, leaving us in his Grace, sending his message that we were indeed safe.  I looked again, and there the crosses still stood, a husband and wife, arms intertwined facing the world.  Thank you God for sending the message.  I am still alive and I will live… I just need patience…

I wanted to stay in this world.

I settled back down, and I wrapped myself up.  I told myself that soon, I was sure I’d see a real person.  Soon my eyes were closed, there was really nothing else to do….I felt the cold air hit my pretty warm face.

I told myself… that I was worth the fight.

I honored myself a beautiful woman, loved with delight.

I remembered that #shepersisted—and I knew that I, too, was at least that good.

The thoughts swirled and swirled inside my head, and when I heard that beautiful young man….

“Clyde… Is that you..??”  “Clyde….am I mad??”

“No ma’am, I’m Ryan, I work for the United States Forest Department”

Oh MY GOD! I’d just seen my first ANGEL!!

This angel, handsome was he, he checked my fuel and assured me I could run my engine freely.  Instructions were to keep warm and wait, he had sent off for help, I only needed patience for perhaps, 2 hours.  Best of all he’d seen my wonderful husband and HE WAS OKAY.

The very first tears fell… happy was I.  But, it didn’t take long for me to mop up my mess, I still had at least 2 hours to wait.  I checked the time at least every 15 minutes it seemed, I looked at the Kirkland™ Lamb & Rice and promised not to eat it! And I was pretty much done with that dirty damned bucket!

Pretty much two hours later, along came two more very handsome angels named Ken and Kehoe, Jr. I have to admit my eyes were on fire, I met so many young, handsome angels—I simply could not believe my luck, surely I was in HEAVAN.  I will never forget how hard they worked to force the little vehicle down the path.  At the bottom was Ryan’s Forest Ranger partner to drive me on by, to an ambulance for checking vitals.  The men there too, delighted mine visions—Tiller paramedics will never be forgotten.  We passed so many people; I could not believe what I saw.  Trucks and trucks from the Douglas County Sherriff, and Search and Rescue, too. We stopped a couple of times so my chariot driver to speak to a few, the men outside were full of smiles—I was really happy too.  My driver offered me nibbles of carrots, peppers, and broccoli, but I thought it was his lunch, and he looked so perfect and healthy, surely he worked hard, and needed nourishment…I could not take his lunch.  How did all these parents do it, raise so many perfectly shaped men?!  Oh I could barely take it, they were all very sweet, considerate young men. Might I say here and now, that I take it all back, there are out there, somewhere, quite a few REALLY GOOD MEN.

Next stop we met Kehoe, Sr. and a nice lady with a cookie and coffee.  I don’t like coffee and yet it turned out that it was manna from heaven!!  I was dropped off at the ambulance, my husband was there, my blood sugars were perfect, I remembered the name of YOUR F****** PRESIDENT!  My heart rate was a little fast, we discussed our options, and I said I want to go home and take my medicine.

Jerry came by and we got in to his truck.  He took us both home, back to Tricity…to my babies, my heaven.  We showered; we shaved, brushed our teeth—called his mother.  Called my sister.  Posted to Facebook—one little message.  Laid down in the most comfortable bed on earth, held my man, thanked him profusely, and said thank heavens.

I’m warm, I am dry, I’m fed, and I’m happy.  I know who I am, what I need, what I can share, what I love…  My kids, my husband, my family, my friends, those beautiful angels who showed up by the dozens…  I am thankful to all, and offer to share my bear hugs from Jesus…
I was released March 10, 2017—from a hell created by myself and reborn new, beautiful, and sweet.

I hope you never have to live through such days, but if you do….just focus on what is really important to you.  I promise you’ll make it and come out more beautiful too!!!

Dear Costco—what do you think?? My poor dog is missing some food from his bowl! Do you send out coupons that Jake might appreciate?  I hope you don’t mind indulging his master’s silly old wife!!

Sincerely, Peggy A. Rowe-Snyder

The Cost of being “famous”

One last thought for today. Kind of interesting, I guess….. Our street goes into a cross street and they make a “T” where they come together. We were turning onto our street, bringing the car home. The guy who was on our street, watched us turn on, and then made a U turn in the “T” and followed us and went by really slow past our drive way. He went up the road, turned around and went by again, looking…. on the phone… I can just imagine it….”Dude, I found where those people stuck on the mountain lives….” Geez! And I think this why? I walked into a store yesterday in south Roseburg. (Southgate) Cashier looks at me…. and then loudly (and remember I’m 1/2 deaf, so if I say it’s loud)…. “How’d you like it up there on that mountain top? Bet you were scared shitless!! God sure had his hand on you didn’t he?” He never waited for an answer… he ASSUMED he knew…. Bet, I wasn’t scared shitless!!! Not most the time anyhow. LOL

How Balanced is Your Checkbook?

Today, I came to the realization that I have been trying to balance my checkbook every single day. Not, my literal checkbook, but instead more like a book of good and bad deeds. I reconcile this book every single day in at least a dozen different ways. I am one of those ‘humans’ who have made some really bad choices. As you get older, you come to realize that most humans do this. They may not admit it, or even share knowledge of it. But, in most ways, most folks balance those checkbooks in some quiet way, in their own ways.

Now, that’s not to say that I’ve done drugs, had an abortion, or cheated on a spouse. But, that doesn’t make me 100% innocent of things that someone might say about me. All in all, I know I’m a pretty good gal. But, ya, I’ve done some stupid shit. I actually have friends who are not friends anymore because of some choices I have made. And I can tell you if they followed the tenants of their own faith they’d probably talk to me one of these days. Shit happens you know. I know it sounds like I’m taking the subject lightly, but I am not. Because I am a person who thinks all the time, I rarely turn it off. Mostly, I can’t turn it off. And I think about those friends and ponder how they are. I say a prayer for them, and I say a prayer for me. Part of my reconciliation ritual I suppose. I try to balance that checkbook.

Ex-family members—as in ex-husband, ex-step-father, you know the types someone in the family can actually CHOOSE to divorce and never speak to again. I still think of them, and wonder how they are, and say a prayer for them and for me. I say it for them because of the misunderstanding we might have had, or because of violence that they showed me and because they themselves faced some sort of violence in their life, that they just could not overcome. I say a prayer for me because of all the violence I thought about showing them and for the violence that I did show them in my effort to live through the experiences. Yes, indeed, that was my choice, and not very good ones at that. It’s actually hard to think about these things…rarely do I NOT shed a tear for these ex-family members. Because it’s easy to see that they might want the understanding that I might want if I were in their shoes. And because I’d love to reach out and try again, but even I get too scared to even go down that road.

The hardest part I have dealing with are the family members I can’t divorce. I can choose not to talk to them. Or, they can choose to not talk to me. But, the lack of communication doesn’t stop them from being family members, nor does it solve the issues that caused the problems. I have to say a prayer for them, and say a prayer for me. I find it a terribly sad day when it’s easier to not talk then to talk and resolve the issues at hand. It makes a person weary to realize that these things can go on for YEARS. In all honesty, from my perspective, there are no issues so large that they cannot be overcome, so long as both parties are willing to eventually let it go. How important is it that we are right? Would you love that person any less if they were right? Can’t we just chalk it up to experience and move on? It has been heartbreaking to realize some folks are incapable of that. Let me go and look at that checkbook…again. A prayer for them, and a prayer for me.

Some of those family members actually taught me by example how to make choices, and I am thankful for some of what they choose to share with me. And I am also thankful for what little discernment that I have to NOT always follow in their footsteps. The example of learning from an elder’s mistakes: I’ve lived my life trying hard to move forward in a simple, earnest, and honest way. Sometimes, much easier said than done. Learning to move on despite being your own best enemy, doing the best you can with what you’ve got: Another form of reconciliation. Dear Peggy, how is your checkbook?

I was telling a friend today about my musical past. The one where an instructor actually thought I could sing, and encouraged it. I told the friend that music is so elemental to me that one song can bring tears to my eyes, It can also lift my spirit, teach me a lesson, or help me to find the Spirit—one song, one therapy, another form of reconciliation, every single day. Writing, and thinking are two more forms. Sharing my history without getting too complicated, or sharing too much—a form of balancing one’s checkbook, Also, a passing on of the wisdom that was tendered along the way.

As I get older, I find that I am actually thinking about a legacy. Even a year ago, that was not something that I thought about. How do I leave a legacy of peace, calm, warmth, lovingness—my choices has not always led to these ends. My biggest hope is that in the end the good will outweigh the bad. If the scales of justice are used in judging me, will I come out at least even? In my private moments, I have to be honest; it could be a really close call. There have been times when I was certainly no angel.

Primum non nocere – Do No Harm

A song about Jabez’s prayer comes to mind:
“Oh, God Bless Me.
Please enlarge my ministry.
Let your hand always be with me.
Keep me from evil
Let me not cause harm, oh please my prayer…”
(source: Hilary F. Marckx)

To Whom It May Concern, and to no one in particular: How balanced is your checkbook?

The End of a Story

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Yup, I sure look like trouble in this shot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grew up hearing my mother tell me what hell on wheels I was as a toddler. Her hope was that I would have children that behaved even worse than I did so that I would get pay back. I never once took it as a joke. Not once. It dawned on me this afternoon that was my mother’s way of letting me know that she was angry about something. It also crossed my mind today that I have raised three kids, all of them were toddlers once and not one of them ever behaved in such a way that I would ever say something like that to them. Never. Toddlers are so easy to care for. IF they are doing something that they should not be doing, you get their attention with something else and they are good. Puppies are on the same wavelength, you use the same techniques with them. So, long story short…I don’t have the details, but now I know that I hit the nail on the head almost 30 years ago. I’m not crazy, I didn’t make it up, I did not lie, and I’m not telling stories. Mom perpetuated the same thoughts and actions when she ‘handled’ my oldest daughters situation. The story finally makes sense, I can close that chapter of my life… I can stop working the puzzles. But, first, I need to cry. a lot.

Friend:  YOU are a fantastic woman….!!!!!
Peggy Rowe thanks
Friend:  I don’t know why mom’s did that sort of thing….
Peggy Rowe:  some monsters are too big to face alone. That generation of women were utterly on their own in every way. Society told them to keep it quiet and not talk about it. They were doing what they were told to do.
I guess this pic of me might make someone think, that maybe I was one tough hombre back then, "hold it right there, sir, what is it you said?" "oh, well then, GO AHEAD, MAKE MY DAY" :)

I guess this pic of me might make someone think, that maybe I was one tough hombre back then, “hold it right there, sir, what is it you said?” “oh, well then, GO AHEAD, MAKE MY DAY” 🙂

This week’s ‘homework’. 2/6/2017
(Women w/ PTSD; a Seeking Safety group/class)

For the last couple of weeks, I have been using a lot of self-talk.
I have been sending myself messages.
They have been messages of self-acceptance.
I have been in conversation with a little girl who lives within.
Over the years she has shrieked and shrieked…
She has had tantrums, one after another.
This little girl has been afraid of the dark and heavy footsteps.
She could not look at the light that she saw under the door.
She made it really hard for me to sleep.
She was afraid to close her eyes.
One good thing: She’s got an insatiable curiosity.
She wants to know everything just because there is everything to know.
It is really that simple. She’s a very simple child.
The sun shone down on her almost every day.
Most days she knew it.
This conversation that I’ve had with myself has been one of affirmation, love, & joy.
I spoke with what I hoped has been a soothing & comforting voice.
I told her that I was so glad to have her in my life.
I told myself that whatever it was, it wasn’t my fault.
I let her know that I am a good girl and a good person.
That everyone is allowed to make mistakes.
That is what makes me human.
I told my girl that it was ok to be afraid of the dark.
I promised to always leave on a light.
I told her I understood why she was afraid of the footsteps.
I pictured myself holding that little girl tight.
That is what she really wanted.
I promised to hold her through the night.
I let her know that closing her eyes is something safe.
I told me that I understood that she needed a mother.
I knew that I meant a real mother.
I let her know that I could be one.
I gave me a ‘mommy’, one that wasn’t angry;
A mom who knew what to expect from a little girl.
I told her I could see she needed a mom that wasn’t quite so harsh,
and who would protect her from the man in the dark.
I told my girl, that from now on, I was going to take care of me.
I explained that her real mom is busy fighting off monsters.
I explained that my ‘supposed to be” mom really was the best she could be.
I tried to show tenderness as I promised her that I was healthy enough to take care of me.
All of me.
I promised the little girl that we would go out for walks, and enjoy each day.
I promised her that we would go out and play, and turn over rocks and look for new things.
I promised her that we’d still go out and build snow men, and play in the rain.
I even remembered to say we’d splash in mud puddles, and make mud pies.
I promised to remember and love every single piece of me.
I told her that no matter how tough things got that I would hold her as long as I was alive.
The little girl smiled, she closed her eyes.
I was witness to a most peaceful sleep.
The little girl snuggles into herself and seems to breathe in warmth & comfort.
She says, “I’ve needed you for a long, long time. I wondered where you went. I really, really missed you. I’m happy that you came back. You came back. Thank you, for coming back for me. “

Predators in Douglas County

16427801_10210536351020486_172102550160555410_nThis man is spending a lot of time in Myrtle Creek area right now and may even be living there. HE may work at TMS in Roseburg, Douglas, Oregon.  Please pass this on to locals.

IDENTIFYING INFORMATION

Name: GAMBRELL, RAYMOND MICHAEL
Address: UNDER DEER CREEK BRIDGE
ROSEBURG, OR 97470
Height: 509
Weight: 200
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
SMTs:
Pierced left ear
Scar, Chin SURGICAL SCAR
Scar, Hand, left
Scar, Knee, left
Scar, Forearm, left
Scar, Elbow, right
Scar, Forearm, right
Scar, Wrist, nonspecific BOTH – SURGERY
Age: 47
DOB: 11/25/1969
Race: W
Sex: M

Charges:
Conviction Date Offense Name
09/19/2003 AT SEX ABUSE 1-FEL

Targets: MINOR FEMALES

Methods of Offending: USED FAMILIARITY WITH THE VICTIM TO GAIN COMPLIANCE

Conditions & Restrictions: NO CONTACT WITH LISTED PEOPLE NO CONTACT WITH MINORS NO INTOXICATING BEVERAGES

Supervised By: DOUGLAS COUNTY COMM CORR, 541-957-8148