Wednesday, September 03, 2014

Naramata Food Trip

Wednesday; the forecast called for a 30% chance of rain, but it became 100% after the frst hour of vineyard work. By then a low rain cloud came down the valley, and stayed in place for at least two hours, messing up all my plans to get outside vineyard work done.  The afternoon was on and off; enough to draw one outside to do certain things, then the rain came on. It got sunny at 1500h when driving back from Naramata (see below).

There was enough rain that I stopped work an hour early and made a food trip to a raw foods wholesaler in Naramata. I ordered it last night and it was ready for pick up before they close at 1500h. A number of last minute things erupted to delay my departure by 20 minutes, which left me in constant doubt if I would maker it there by closing. A number of vehicles chose to slow down ahead of me, though the monster silver grey Lincoln had to be in front of me nearly the entire Penticton to Naramata leg, outbound; before that it was a grey and then a charcoal colored vehicle in front of me. On the return trip it was a silver grey train of three vehicles, the middle one with a skim coat of brown dust on it, one of those "browning around" moments they cannot get enough of. Not only that, browning around with soil dispersed on a vehicle of varying thickness; thicker at the bottom, to thin at the top. And given last night's rain, and rain much of today, someone must of been working real hard to ensure that this skim coated vehicle kept its carefully applied soil skim coat in place, as it was timed for the only part of the day that wasn't raining. Clever.

The assholes didn't make any bones about tailing me either. Just when setting off, a substantial pull-out area had two large SUV's about 6' apart,  pointed at different directions, though mostly the same general direction. As soon as I came round the bend, why, the silver grey lead one made an effort to get ahead of me, and the one that was more transverse came in behind me. I cannot imagine in conventional social terms, how two SUV drivers having a confab in a pull-out and then jointly arranging to erupt as soon as they saw me, one to lead and the other to follow. The lead SUV stalker had to go all of a mile or so and then pull off on a side road that runs parallel to the main road, but increases in elevation. Ever notice how the perps like to place gangstalkers up and down stairs in one's proximity?

This pull-out was the site of the near head-on collision of two weeks ago, where I could of diverted to avoid an oncoming vehicle (overtaking another beside it)  in my lane some 60' in front, but was totally mindfucked into not being that concerned and kept driving at it, no evasive action allowed. I really don't know how we missed, but the asshole must of been a fully trained perp to have that much faith in their system, as there was no apparent plan B.

In about 1988 when driving a company vehicle I had a tractor trailer coming at me halfway into my lane on a two lane highway at night time. I pulled wide onto the shoulder but I really don't know how we missed. Weeks later, when I saw the location in the daytime, there was a wider area to pull into but it was without a guard rail and had I drove into this pull out blind, I would of gone off a 40' bank into a swamp (at night). I suppose the perps could of pulled one of their teleportational games and re-materialized the tractor trailer back into its lane. The perps had me duck down at the last instant to avoid the flat deck corner at windshield height, so I don't know what happened to the tractor trailer for sure, though he was back in his lane when I looked in my rear view mirror.

One teleportational stunt the perps likely pulled off of major note, would be Flight 77 of 09-11, that did a 270 degree spiral turn and apparently crashed into an unreinforced section of the Pentagon, one of the most fortified and protected buildings in all of the USA, outside a military base. The Pentagon has its own antiaircraft batteries that somehow were not deployed for crissakes. They said the Flight 77 transponder was turned off; not only was that lame, but at the following press meeting that day, when the authorities were telling the gathered media that a 757 crashed into the building, the first questions the press asked were, "where are the wings, ...where is the tail?" The answer they were given was, "no comment". If that doesn't say, "we are hiding the facts from you", nothing does. What I really want to suggest is maybe that was Flight 77 was indeed careering low toward the Pentagon and at the last-most instant was dematerialized elsewhere and a Cruise missle was teleported in its place. Yes, there was some aircraft wreckage in the rubble that was found a week or so later, but it took three days to put the fire out. Plenty of time to yet again, teleport pieces of that very same aircraft back into the rubble. I know, this sounds way out there, but when one is dealing with teleported crumbs and hairs all day long, along with many other unconventional arrivals and missing items, all to abuse the piss out of me for over 12 years, then large scale teleportational stunts (e.g. Boeing 757 and all occupants) are unlikely to be beyond the perp's capability.

Back in about 2010 when working at a farm that had a lunch room upstairs with a picture view of the Gulf Islands toward Sidney and San Juan Island, the Washington State Ferry from Anacortes was emerging from the pass N of San Juan Island and about to cross Haro Strait as it does once per day, most days of the year, at that time of day. I had seen it before from this same vantage point, and was familiar with its steady rate of progress, like any large seagoing vessel. I was by myself, a little unusual in the co-workers gangstalking choreography, but at any rate, I had another bite from my lunch, and looked up, and the ferry was halfway across the strait, a distance of 10 miles. I looked again to make sure I wasn't imaging things, and yes, the ferry had somehow traveled this distance in less than a minute or so, and I was progressing through my lunch at the normal rate. As best as I could make out, there was a wake the entire distance, an entirely normal one. Anyhow, objects and beings, large and small, can be teleported a will by whomever is pulling the strings on all of us. (Or else, I could of been totally mind blanked, but I don't think so as our lunch hours were tightly regulated. Check out the Fortean Times and the It Happened to Me section for more such events.

Yoga this evening, and for this Wednesday which is rare, there was the very large instructor of two years ago.  I situated myself at the back of the room as my regular front location had someone's mat there, and they came later moved it to fake me out. So here was this mat-less gap in the class room, and as the large instructor paced about and did her teaching poses, she invariably did them not from her mat (expectable, normal), but from this location that I normally use. And too, to put her oversized ass on display, which for me, was a little too much to take. (As in being repulsed by it, just like before). Anyhow, she did more roaming teaching, something she had not done before, just like all the yoga instructors now.

And how do they go about arranging yoga instructors? From the Freak Files? That is, Fat Girls, balding and big gutted males, now with one cutie in the mix, the Darling Pixie on Mondays. (Not this week due to Labor Day).

Some sun finally; a near week without, including the Labor Day holiday- thanks assholes.

More center-line vehicular straddlers coming at me, doing the extra wide passing of a bicyclist or R turning vehicle and they just couldn't wait. These drivers coming at me over the center line while passing by a cyclist in a dedicated shoulder lane for their use are just absurd. They make a point of leaving at least 8' of room between the cyclist and their "passing" vehicle. One could drive another vehicle between them and miss the cyclist for crissakes. Any excuse to cross the centerline, and they nearly all do it, either vehicles in my lane ahead or behind me, or else the oncoming centerline drivers. Bizarre, and all this erupted in 05-2012 when taking the Eastside Road to do vineyard work.

I worked an extra hour today, and lo, if there weren't late day visitor arrivals. The first party was the contracted grape buyer's winemaker and his female assistant, whom I see a couple of times per year doing their vineyard walk-throughs. They stayed in their silver grey pickup and pretended not to hear me when I called out when 40' away. There seemed to be some commotion as the woman had a bleeding mole that the guy felt he had to attend to by getting a bandage for her. It seems she is at least an inch bigger in the middle than last time, plump enough then. So what is this act; a shorted male with a plump Fat Girl. She didn't even say hello this time, when she had done so in the past. No big deal, they walked about and circled around so to leave without me hearing them go when I was only 40' from their truck watering plants, behind taller trees so that I could not witness their departure. Most strange; it seems they came for this stunt alone as they were gone in under 10 minutes.

Then the Aussie came after that, and I got to find out from him that the vineyard owner has ordered a hopper for the grapes loading to be made of galvanized steel. Like WTF; has anyone seen any winery equipment made of anything but stainless steel, wood or food grade plastic? Not in over half a century. And two years ago he was talking about getting copper equipment when I told him that there should be no reactive metals in winemaking , and all were except for stainless steel. He understood that, and was telling others. Now two years later he has "forgotten" and of course didn't ask me. Here we go again; blatant inanity heading for a major fuckup unless I get to line the galvanized hopper with a polyethylene sheet.

Saturday, and laundry; a fat man in a white mini-van was seemed to be giving me the stare for no reason in the parking lot, and so I stared right back at him. I chatted with the male owner of the laundromat about his hockey gear ozone cleaner the kills bacteria too. As it "happened" the fat man comes in and starts chatting to me, and he seems OK, nothing to do with his staring act or my response. Once I get back out in the parking lot, why, he had re-parked his vehicle next to mine for no earthly sane reason.

I go to the Penticton farmer's market, this about 0900h and NOT last weekend, (Labor Day), and there was this ongoing ambulatory cluster fuck around me. Dawdlers who stop in front, fast walkers who also go ahead and then stop in my way, and at least six such incidents of blatant obstruction.

The clue to get out of there was when I was buying at one, and only one stall. A woman moves in close behind me on her cell phone, the #1 stalking aid, and while paying, these two young kids about 6-9 y.o. close in on me and are staring up at me. I needed to give them the "excuse me" reminder they were getting in way too close. All this was likely about me paying cash and giving one green $20 to get coins and a blue $5 back. That is, the color transition change due to my wallet contents, is of intense perp interest. So sending in these twerps was just what the perps like to do.

I took the sidewalk out of there, and lo, if a skinheaded adult male isn't  standing in middle of sidewalk and didn't move when I came close, forcing me onto the grass to go around the prick. LIke WTF; what would he be staring at anyhow?

The more young kids, males similar in age to above mentioned ones, didn't do the same thing at the laundromat. Close in on me and stare up at me. This artfully arranged to make their entrance as I was about to exit for the last time today. Obstruction, even for a passing five seconds, is a big deal for the perps these days.

While making dinner,the perps moved my L middle finger under the knife blade while cutting onions up. And of course blood, and I was screamingly infuriated for a good five minutes. And we all know who likes to collect blood samples, especially if the victim is dying in a massacre arranged at a school or tourist location. Like WTF; they can, probably do, extract bodily fluids and substances from me anytime they want, and for some reason they need to cut me. Or, it just maybe a ruse to get me out of the kitchen for a few minutes so they can look at the cut up onions free of my proximity. And too, the classic perp timing, the Fuckup is arranged when about 70-80% through the task. And too, we know who finds cutting up meats and vegetables so fascinating, along with knife sharpening.

An after noon time in the sun, but no tan from it, when I can get tanned into mid-October at this latitude. But it was an excuse to run motorcycle noise ad nauseum for at least 30 minutes, 3x/minute. Then they started up the aircraft noise and aircraft overhead, culminating in the peculiar gyrocopter that likes to hound me about 10x/year, both at my residence and the vineyard where I work.

A new cognitive dehabilitation stunt revealed itself for the first time today. While reading down alphabetical lists of names online (singers or band names), the first capitalized letter gets "modified" to the point of not being able to read it. If I move my head a little, why, I can read just fine (as much as I am allowed, as they can mess with my word recognition, something they could do for the last five years or so).

I just got sacked into paying for shipping on Amazon when I needn't have. An item was $17 and to get free shipping I needed an order for $25 or more. So I add and additional item, and then got screwed out of noticing where it is stocked, and lo, if it wasn't a Amazon reseller partner. Which means that I pay for shipping for eadh item as it is shipped from elsewhere. The entire intent was to have both items ship from Amazon themselves and I don't pay shipping. Since normally I am totally on top of the shipping charge games, as one must do in Canada, It would seem yet again, I got screwed by remote means. And no less, the reason for getting the first item, a sleeping bag liner which I sleep in every night, is that the sleeping bag liner I use got mysteriously ripped, and then ripped some more so it is nearly in half. Yet again, one sabotage exercise leads to another.

A hike today, the usual location, and they even left me alone to get an hour's tanning in. Some seven other parties on the trail, and three of them were on me at the end. One party about 100m from the trailhead, another arrived when I was at the gate, and and a third party walking down the road three abreast when I was some 60' past the trailhead. Can we say "covered" for a trailhead exit?

As the trailhead is at an organic farm I sometimes stop by to get some produce. And lo, if a red shirted Mexican didn't show up to then loiter in the small shop to get his Coca Cola, brown sugar water in a red colored aluminum can), and this wretched red head freak/store assistant came to my aid to "help" me find a bigger ear of corn, as I was about to purchase two. This goof has been hanging around with a dumbshit Tilley hat most times, and seems to be the appointed clown to hound me there. Most times I get the E Indian woman as the store assistant who seems to be reasonably pleasant and unobtrusive.

Ditto the "swap in the male" in place of the female at two locations I shop often at. That is, I am now getting male cashiers at the till when they had assigned me females for these past two years, since I moved into this town. The male for female swapping at the checkout or cash desk hasn't gone unnoticed these past 12 years, but this represents a extra step up when they put on the male cashier at the outset without any swapping games. If I don't like male cashiers on account of male perpetrated abuses in my recall blanked years, aged 2 to 5 (1956-1959), then I don't see why I should be put through this insane stalking and hounding abuse, along with the extra conventional gravitic fuckery to constantly enrage me all the time. It would seem I had already suffered enough when the assholes went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

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