Soggy in the Vineyard

07-23-2012
Back to work this Monday, and not only overnight rain that ceded when I got to the vineyard work site, but the rain came on about an hour into work, and stayed that way until the last worktime hour. So.. that meant a thermal sweater, rain gear and a fleece hat while tucking shoots into the trellis wires and snipping off high shoots and lateral branches. Nothing too thrilling, but the usual hot rod vehicle noise started up about an hour into the job, and lasted 20 min. or so. The builders below were doing realistic noise, instead of the ridiculouse one hammer tap per second nonsense. Later, they somehow succeeded in timing their tapping to just when I pruned a shoot, at leat three times in succession no less.

I got soaked down the right arm as I was reaching up most of the day, but we all knows who likes to selectively wet me and plant water droplets all around. Not an eventlful day, but maybe that is the best that I can hope for in these dire circumstances.

And as the perps like to do after a day's vineyard shoot pruning, they like to flash pictures of vine shoots in my vision as particular times, akin to noisestalking (arranged coicident noise with tasks of interest to them). Call it backflash-stalking, and they have made it worse than before, so once per minute isn't too disconcerting.

The roomie house games continue; this exquisite choreograpy of the raw foodist roomie "happening" to arrive in the too small kitchen when I am making tea, exchanging places, about to scoop my hot water. So then, she follows me in teamaking, also hovering over the sink. It is fucking tiresome to be constantly hounded by these arranged coincidences and shared items/foods/water immediately before or after me. This morning I find a jar of yellow mustard in the compost bucket. Before dinner, I find an avocado and melon remnants in the garbage/trash. All this in a recycling conscious household. Go figure.

Then I find out that one of my dessert plates that I "somehow forgot" to dry and remove from the kitchen this morning was taken somewhere and then returned this evening. I suppose these are the follies of roomie living, but why am I getting cognitively clobbered over things I would never forget?

And I see the perps are now allowing me to have tea from some kind of mesh fabric teabag, as I had been using either paper teabags or loose tea. And so it goes as I move up the complexity chain of experimentation subject.

On another experimentation front, I have been getting some kind of bug bites behind my R. ear when working in the vineyard, two days in succession. Normally, I don't miss any kind of insect chewing or probing me, and "somehow" this occured at least four times the first day. The next day the same thing, on the same side. The third day, about the same number of bites behind my L. ear. In the past, 2008 I believe, I had a sudden outbreak of bedbugs in my apartment, but I was never bitten. At the time, the perps gave me a rare telepathic rationale, indicating that they didn't want insect originated toxins in my system. So..., if one accepts that, then they might now be testing me with bug bites four years later.

And speaking of bites, the perps have been juicing me with rattlesnake scenarios when working on the vineyard, and of course, indicating that there is more than insect toxins they want to test. Naturally (har, har- nothing is natural in my contained world), they plant serpentine-like debris on the ground for me to momentarily misinterpret.

07-24-2012
Still on "shit refugee" status, being forced to take a crap at the mall again, Irritible Bowel Syndrome (IBS) leading up to it. No toilet games when there, just a parade of Fuckwits for me to see through the vertical gap in the door. And no less, one of them in a wheelchair for crissakes. the perps like to obstruct what I see and often confine me to see a narrow vertical or horizontal space to then put an Unfavored speciment into the narrow space. This way they can block out much of my visual cortex and have just a small portion get an abreaction to the Unfavored. They did this with a negro about a year ago, and  have done it with a motorcycle, fat girl, and as of today, a freaking wheelchair. And have I mentioned how I loathe the sight of these things? About every week.

And the perps also seem to be working hard on showing me wheel spokes, bicyclles included. The latest is a new spoke design which puts them in pairs. As me if I care, and I am sure the perps have many times.

A day of manual top hedging and tucking in the vineyard, now complete. It took two of us nearly two work weeks to do it. Not a whole lot of flexibility with a small crew (two). And some powdery mildew was discovered, so we had to do a fruit pick for affected bunches. But I got some suntan time in today, and that is all for the good, and the perps too in all likelihood, given their obsession over the effects of sunshine, as well as vitamin D production and brown skin. There is something about the etheric field and sunlight (and all EMF for that matter), and its interaction they need to find out.

And too, much extra noise yesterday as well as the rain, all for me to start pruning with the pruners I had sharpened on Sunday, the day before yesterday. I honed the hand pruners with three levels of diamond grit stone, and spent at least 40 minutes on lapping the flat side of the blade as it somehow became uneven and was degrading their cutting abilities. Then about 20 minutes on the bevel side to get them sharp once again. The carbide scraper didn't seem to be working very well, so maybe that tool has passed from perp favor, and they want me on diamond stones alone. The whole deal with cutlery, knife and cutting edges is such a big deal for them, I don't know where to start to explain it all. Suffice to say, I get plenty of noise at the moment I cut anything, from meat to pruning shoots and everything in between. It is just plain tiresome.

07-25-2012
A day of thining and pruning vine shoots, now on the Cabernet Sauvignon rows, which are extra prolific, with new 6' shoots since we were last pruning there three weeks ago. Not much fruit on these ones, and it seems that if I thin according to the fruit the trunk would be too bare, so I leave some non-fruit shoots in to fill in the trellis. Mostly sunny, some threatening thunderstorms for an hour, but they never got close. The way this vineyard work is set up right now, is that my co-worker is at the S. end of the property, and I am at the N. end, with the house and the rest of the six acre vineyard in between. The perps like to split me up from co-workers when they have the change, likely for some distant dependent energetic detection. And too, a powerline runs along the W. side of the property, and I was reminded of it with the snapping and crackling of the wires.

A haircut after work today, a rarity as normally I get it done on the weekend. Perhaps the perps have me scripted to work then, as we will be getting behind with my co-worker leaving in two days. And another change-up; I have been getting my legs waxed at the same appointment for my haircut, but it wasn't doable today. Changing my habits, even if originated and dictated by the Thems, is a big deal for their ongoing nonconsensual human research. And what was with the seen-before supervisor woman looking positively grotesque in glossy make-up and slicked crimped hair? A regular person turned into a freak maybe?

And a trip out to the grocery store after dinner, a real 20% off for the last Wednesday of the month, unlike three weeks ago when there was a total fake-out as to the day, and then belatedly learning that the sale was faked for a week after the fact. The landlady talked it up, there were swarms of gangstalkers/shoppers in the store, so it all seemed to be the last Wednesday, and it wasn't as I later found out when not seeing a 20% discount on the reciept. And that is but one example of how clueless they like to have me, and have no compunction about doing it; humilation and abuse is just the air they breathe.

And lo, if I wasn't "shopping stalked"; within a minute of completing putting my groceries away, why, the raw foodist roomie arrives and puts her groceries down in the same location that I did, and too, from the same store. My till tape was still on the counter surface and she puts her grocery bag next to it. I should of seen her in the grocery store, but "somehow" didn't, and maybe she stopped somewhere else when she arrived.

And a three times attempt to pay for my groceries; the first time didn't work out with the chip end of the debit card. Then the magnetic swipe was presented as an option, but it failed due to some BS error about funds. So the cashier took over my card for the third attempt and lo, if it didn't progress normally, but unusually quickly. My retinue of freaks and weirds were all around me; the first the aisle, then the back of the store and then the checkout stalkers were in silent wait mode as the aforementioned debit card games proceeded. About 20% of my debit card transactions fuck-up in some way; through cognitive dithering, apparent card problems, or network problems.

Then onto cleaning and honing my Felco hand pruners while she putzed in the kitchen, put her groceries away, and fussed with plastic bags. I have never met anyone who fusses around with plastic bags so often, another order of magnitude than the cashiers at the chekouts who always seem to have an excuse to mess with them there.

Another three rounds of the roomie-stalker being in the kitchen and the gangstalk-roomie has suddenly erupted too, all for crossing my tracks or planting herself just where I need to go. And then I do an online order, (read, financial transaction stalking), and a friend of hers arrives and they start blabbing outside my door. This constant proximity stalking is worse than a having a puppy home for the first time, except that it is every time, and it is driven by wilful and relentless malevolence. Said online order was suddenly truncated because the mouse wouldn't work for selecting two more items. So... the mouse did then resume working once I began the checkout process.

And while in the next room the roomie timed a sneeze at the exact moment I was confronted with yet another PC mouse failure, of which the frequency has been suddenly amped up to about 50% of the time. A reason to take it apart and to go through the fucking abuse of not "knowing", as in dynamically applied cognitive dithering, how to put it together again. Another excuse for a screaming rage show based on the last time the assholes had me fix the PC mouse.

07-26-2012
The roomie kept up her coincidental arrivals in the kitchen today; for breakfast at 0500h, and again when I got back at 1600. She had the stove occupied, ordinarily where I make my afternoon tea, but with four sausages cooking in a frypan, my teapot would be in the middle of all that. So forget it, another "dashed expectation" in this long running orchestrated abuse show. The raw foodist roomie is cooking up sausages again, so she cannot be vegetarian.

A day of work on the vineyard, continuing with tucking shoots and thining them out, with some leaf removal. As two rows were on the edge of a steep bank, I had to expend extra effort to attend to them when they were over my head and my footing wasn't secure.

Another forced shit at work again, and the toiletgetting plugged, even if it was an exceedingly small load. After two plugging incidents over the last four weeks, I didn't want to risk it, but I had no choice.

07-27-2012
A day on the vineyard, and good weather too. And in concert with that, the Fuckwits screwed me out of remembering to bring my hat and shorts in the morning. This is something I do every day on this gig at this time of year, and all prior farm work jobs of the last four years, and somehow I "forgot". They both get inexplicably damp by the end of the day, so I hang them up to dry, and that is where they remained all day.

A cracking good thunderstorm this evening though, thwarting plans to dry my laundry, as the dryer seems to be beating up my clothes of late. At least 20 min. of torrential downpour, with added hail, and one flash, crack and boom altogether outside, enough to make me wonder if the tree outside got hit. It didn't, even if my vehicle was under it. And I suppose this might of been an exercise in tree cover energetic differences, as only my vehicle was under the tree, and the rest were out in the rain and hail. After it was done, I took my vehicle to do my mall dump, and then to get some groceries. I got plenty of vehicular gangstalking attention, especially the big black monster pickups and the blacked-in wheels on other vehicles. If I don't like the sight of blacked-in wheels and black vehicles with dark tinted glass, I don't see why I have to be hounded in two countries and three cities by some deranged abusive Psychopathic Confederacy for over ten years as to likely subconscious traumatizations (aka abreactions) they might have been inflicted during the three years they wiped from my recall, age 2 to 5. Go fuck your own, and get out of my life, such that it has been reduced to.

A rock concert a few blocks away will be holding forth today (Friday) and through the weekend to late Sunday. As this is the first Rock the Peach concert, it just might be connected to perp games, all the noise/music being heard in the background. I won't be attending because I am going to work this weekend at the vineyard to get one project phase completed.

The dog-me stalker-roomie is continuing her relentless coverage, now day two of it. She even got up earlier than I did, at 0450h, made her coffee in the melita filter funnel, and in keeping with her beligerent streak, left it in the sink for me to deal with. (I put it on a plate on the counter, but I consider leaving things in the sink and then fucking off to be higly rude, even beligerent, in a shared house, especially when one knows for sure that the sink will be in use within minutes. I call it "coffee stalking", which was normally the preserve of the streetwalking gangstalkers, carrying their Starbucks coffee around late in the evening. But putting the just-spent grounds in the sink a minute ahead of the next person will suffice as the latest variant of this very consistent perp prop, coffee. As in "browning around" games which are in high evidence each time I take a crap.

And speaking of which, what is it with brown skinned gangstalkers popping out from behind corners of the building, to/from my crap at the mall tonight? These  "pop-outs" as I call them, are getting more agressive and are using their timing to pop-out from behind corners, which is how I remember them starting this long train of abusive insanity (theirs) in 04-2002. And two green-shirts, aka "staff" were plugging the aisle in the supermarket grocery store tonight, so I go around them via another aisle, and lo, if a Fuckwit didn't pop out from behind a display so he could pass by me on my right side, wearing a green variant, olive drab.

07-29-2012
And the event of my cell phone "somehow"  popping off its holster and only being discovered when I got home commanded my attentions yesterday evening. I drove out there to retrieve it, and lo, if it didn't somehow slip in between the seat and the frame of the Kubota RTV I drove to the lowest tier of vine rows. And easy find, as the perps had planted a significant number of scenario ideations; that it had been run over, that it had dropped into the vines/weeds etc. The owners are not home this week, as there is a state of family emergency as the owner's son, under 30, underwent open heart surgery in Vancouver this week. I don't know the particulars, but early reports were that there was no complications. So I feed their cat, a vicious indoor-kept cat, and do watering of the outside plants and garden.

And yesterday, during the work day of hedging and tucking vines, the perps pulled another shit stunt, forcing me to use the second toilet in the house, that also promptly blocked. Other unmentionable shit games ensued as well, but I will spare my readers of the details. If you have added them up, two of their house's three toilets were blocked. The One Second Plumber gas device didn't work on the first one, and the gas cartridge was spent attempting to get the first one unblocked, unsuccessfully. At the end of the episode, the perps let me in on another seal/cartridge configuration that might work. Nice of them. So, like the day before, I stop in at a certain country-wide hardware chain store, and get two more gas cartridges.

And it was my first order of work today, to unblock the two toilets. Eventually, it was successful, but again, there is no conventional reason for them to be blocking, or at least, nowhere near as frequently. Going back to 04-2002, when the perps outed themselves with shock and awe, one of their personnel was in my apartment and blocked the toilet with a ballon, which I later had to unblock with a plumbers snake I purchased. And every since, taking a crap has been a fraught experience of plunging, some overflows and messy cleanups. And the sudden onset of needing chocolate about that time (still continuing at $250/month), along with everything else in the color-stalking games, points to the perps being profoundly interested in the color brown, as much as they are interested in excrement of all forms, colors and animal species. I should add that in mid-2011 the toilet/crap games subsided, so that I could, after nine years, experience normal toilet behavior/experience. Then in 12-2011 they had me get my ass hairs waxed, and lo, if the toilet games didn't re-start. In general, they did subside in 02-2012, and even for the first week of June in this newest residence, but after that, the perps have reverted to their "toilet terrorism" games again. Don't ask me why their toilet/crap sabotage games have increased, nor what ass hairs have to do with what they are studying. I am sick fed up, and even more pissed that they won't let me take an fast exit from this psychopathically insane continuum of abuse. They had me for three years, aged 2 to 5, and wiped my recall of what was done to me, so surely they have extracted their pound of flesh, and can leave me the fuck alone.

More high wierdness this evening; the perps sacked me for a 1.75 hour long nap, of which I spent the last 30 minutes trying to get up, but physically couldn't. Then I hear someone knocking at the door, and only then was I finally allowed to get up. I see this elderly bag in profile through the semi-wavy front door glass, and didn't bother to answer it as it seemed she was departing. I take my recycle items to the back door, and then deck, and the landlady is calling out for "Linda" to follow her, in a way that suggested Linda needed extra direction and cognitive assistance. I assumed that Linda was part of the landlady's company, but somehow went to the front door, in error. I am about to start my dinner preparations, and Linda, the elderly person at the front door, is now at the back door and coming into the kitchen where I was. She says something about where is x, (the landlady), and I say she is downstairs. Linda is clutching a bottle of Coca Cola to her ample folds, and she then says we have met. I respond, "we have?", and she tells me my name, which I confirm. Then she makes tracks to find the landlady, going back the way she came. I get my dinner together, brown tortilla quesadillas, with red-brown rooibus ice tea, and sit outside to eat. And still the landlady is calling out for Linda, who is 6' away by then.

Anyhow, this bizarre charade of ensuring I see this Linda person through the  partially wavy front door glass, through the kitchen window glass (double pane), and then in person, while she was clutching a plastic bottle of Coca-Cola, the very favorite perp prop after coffee (geti it?), was arranged just after an extensive (and, unneeded) forced nap. And why the party of the landlady and Linda couldn't get it together and enter into the same door at the same time is also beyond comprehension. Just another vignette in this ongoing relentless abuse and cognitive confinement.

And on that note, I shall call this posting done for another week, and hope no one else's, especially from the TI community, is as bizarre and fraught as this was.