It is Soooooooooo QUIET!!

 I've had the honor of having my sister here visiting, and then the honor of having J and P from England come and visit.  It has been a busy spring here at the home of Quiet Rage.  It all seems so surreal.  It's been a year since J and P told us they were coming to visit.  Poof.  Their visit has come and gone in an instant.  When we first learned of their intended visit we thought the day of their arrival would never come fast enough.  Their visit went by so quickly that we did not even complete the list of day trips I had written down.  Oh well, it's something to look forward for a future visit.  

I was so glad my sister came out to have a little break from taking care of my mom full-time.  She sooooooooo deserved just to read a book near the fire pit in peace and quiet.  Also, she is still mourning the death of her husband despite the 10 year anniversary of it.  My sister holds emotions in to a fault.  She never allowed herself to process grief.  But then again, how do you ever get over the death of the love of your life?  I was glad she finally allowed herself to cry.  She is always trying to be so strong for everyone else that she does not allow herself to feel.  I was honored that she felt she was in a safe space to just let herself feel.  There were *many* conversations around the fire pit that lasted until the wee hours of the morning.....our should I state mourning.  

J and P brought such a joy to us.  It takes a lot of faith on their part to come and stay with us crazy Californians.  They surely got to experience all of the extended family drama.  LOL.  It was so much fun to see J and P take in all the sights that I take for granted as I see them regularly.  For example, going over the Golden Gate Bridge was something remarkable for them.  Walking over the Golden Gate Bridge was something J had on her bucket list.  I'm glad I could accommodate that for her as that is something only tourists do LOL.  You all would be shocked at the number of people who were born and raised here who have NEVER walked across the bridge.  Spoiler alert:  Walking across the bridge is incredibly NOISY with all the traffic that is inches away from you.  Bring ear plugs.  

I think what sealed the deal with our warped sense of humor was playing Cards Against Humanity as J and P had never played before.  I did warn them it was raunchy.  We laughed until our stomachs hurt.  In return, they taught us the proper conditions as to when to call somebody a WANKER. 

 

Friends from the UK: Pints and Nachos

 I've not posted in a bit, but I'm sure none of you really care.  The earth has continued to revolve and morning turns into nightfall with or without my internet rants du jour.  

Here's where Quiet Rage has been.  My sister was out here shortly after Easter to spend some time relaxing as she is the full-time care taker for my mother.  That in itself deserves the red carpet treatment for Sissy.  We spent HOURS around the fire pit talking about family history and family dynamics.  

I'm so glad my sister is the main executor for my parents' estate.  She is very fair, she is very responsible, and she will carry out my parents' wishes down to the last dime.   The only one who will have a problem is my older brother.  He is always scoping as to what the lake shore property is worth and the other land that has been in the family for 100+ years.  He is looking to sell it off to make $$$$$$.

The rest of us are thinking of making the lake shore property a private campground/picnic area for future generations.  Nothing would need to be permanently built on it.  Nobody would need to care for a structured building on the property nor establish plumbing nor electricity.  Have a tent city in the summer where we can all enjoy fishing off the dock and relax into our tents come nightfall.  Who really wants to deal with an actual cabin structure where there are so many relatives?  Who would be the responsible family point person?  Who wants to deal with frozen and bursting pipes on January 22 at 2:13 am when it is -40*?     Oh, and the toilet will NOT flush!  Now what????????

Here is where my siblings and I are going (sans one sibling).  Mom and Dad lived very frugally - almost to a fault.   They were the generation of the Great Depression and WWII.  Money was always tight.  They lived out in the middle of nowhere on Prairie USA and somehow made it work.  I have a deep respect for that unlike myself.  I start whining if I can't get a Door Dash delivery for my favorite junk food at my doorstep within 15 minutes after ordering it.  Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa.  Where is MY sacrifice?  I dare you all to ask yourselves the same question.  We are all whiny WIMPS.  Yes, I am including myself in this.  

Switching gears completely.......

Getting back to my ancestors and what they all went through.  Wow.  I just want future generations to enjoy and utilize the lake shore property like the family did back in 1865.  Well, there were European traders along the property trail trading their goods along with Native American summer camp populations (this ox trail is now Interstate 94).  Yes, the Europeans and the Natives had a lot of intermingling that led to a blend of cultures and families.  My Uncle Joe has an entire room showcasing the apothecary bottles the Europeans were trading along side the arrow heads and other tools of the trades the Dakota brought forth.  

Wait.  I am entirely off track. 

This post is about hosting friends from the UK and I have not touched on that as of yet.  For starters, our UK friends are more than friends.  They are family.  I met my UK friend, JMM, waaaaaaaaay back in the early days of the internet on an online internet pen pal forum.  Yes, dial-up internet was still the mode of connecting to the world-wide web.  Can you still hear it?  Dial up internet sounded like a lame duck quacking for its last breaths.  

We hit it off back in the 1990's and now it's 30 years later.  The internet is now a more more dangerous place to be.  Back in the 1990's we were all in awe how the world could be so connected.  It was so innocent.  It was so sincere.  Now it is full of malware and scammers (for lack of a better term). 

Thank you, J and P, for trusting us dumb-ass Americans  to show you how we think Sonoma County is a very special place.  We love you.  AND..... I am glad we got to have a pint and nachos.  We solved ALL the world's problems. 

p.s.  You are a WANKER.   lol

 

Gambini is SELLING the HOUSE!!!!!!!

 Now that Acid is dead, my brother-in-law Gambini (who is the half Portuguese and half Italian we lovingly nicknamed our Port-a-Wop) wants to sell his 5 bedroom house in Sonoma County.  Long story short, the house is too big for just him - and his 58  year-old alcoholic, deadbeat daughter who never grew up and depends on him to live there rent-free (that is another story).

Well, Gambini was never the smartest with his money.  He inherited a house in SF the Italian side of his family built (his family built an entire SF neighborhood in the early 1900's).  Gambini rented the SF house out, but being a landlord proved to be exhausting.  He sold the family home in SF.......and then purchased a house in Petaluma for his alcoholic daughter and her family to live in RENT FREE.  

We all know what happens next.  Was the daughter grateful for a rent-free place to live with her and her selfish daughters?  Of course not.  They all trashed the place.  That's the thanks Gambini got for trying to help his daughters and granddaughters.

Gambini then turned around and sold the Petaluma house.  I do not blame him one single bit. Where did the alcoholic daughter and ingrate granddaughters go?  Well, they found someone else to leach off of....for now.

Here is the dirt pie.  

Gambini had a reverse mortgage on his house.   This is how he and Acid afforded the lavish lifestyle they had with trips to Europe, Hawaii, etc., plus all the expensive cars.....AND lavish gifts to their immediate family.  

Well, well, well.......when you dance to the music you must pay the fiddler at the end of the event.  And that is what is happening now.

Gambini must sell his house in order to avoid monetary penalties for the reverse mortgage.  That's all ok.  However, his decedents are having a freak-out as they are wondering where THEIR INHERITANCE is going.   Guess WHAT?  Chances are there will NOT BE ANY INHERITANCE at the end of the day.  

Greedy decedents do not think about the $ needed for the long-term care Gambini will need and the other medical expenses elderly people need that sucks up millions of $$$$$ in a matter of months......which leaves the greedy decedents with..........NOTHING.

 Boo-effing-Hoo.  If you want money, earn it yourself.  Do not depend on others to blindly hand it over.  

Which leaves me to the subject of chocolate chips and beanie babies....but that is for another rant.  

p.s. If any of you Tesla-driving effers from SF (or anywhere else) are thinking about swooping in to purchase this beautiful home in Petaluma, your bid will automatically be thrown out.  We do *NOT* want you here.  FWIW I do have some authority on the sale as an executor of the estate. 

 

 

 

 

The Feces Display (a.k.a. Shit Show)

 My niece, K.A.B., is about as naive as naive can be.  She is 31 years old, has two babies, does not have a  job, and she just split from the baby daddy as she caught him cheating (yet again).  Where does one go with no job, no husband, no money, and two babies along with a yappy little mutt that jumps and pizzzzzzzes all over the furniture?  

Back to home to mommy and daddy, of course.  

Well, mommy has her own feces display to deal with.  The Mommy's father and her sister are a full-time job just keeping them with their head above water financially.  Plus, mommy works from home and the last thing she needs are a couple of screaming babies and a barking dog while she is on her conference calls.  

Well, one would hope that my niece learned her lesson.  Do NOT get yourself knocked up thinking you can "keep" a guy.  It's the oldest trick in the book......and it never works.  

At this moment my niece is meeting with Baby Daddy thinking that they can work it out.  Good God.  Stupid is as stupid does.  Oh, and Baby Daddy just got fired from his job for sexual harassment with a student.  There is an established pattern with Baby Daddy.  He likes to @*($^ his students.  I wonder when the time comes for my niece to collect child support how many other kids are out there he created with little girls as the mothers and needs to compete with for child support resources. 

RUN AWAY!!!!!!!!!!  You are better off WITHOUT him!!!!!!!!!! TRUST ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Baby Daddy will not come around near me.  Why?  Because he knows I know.  He knows I will rip him up one side and down the other - and he deserves every word.  He's a coward. 

Where is Elon Musk?

 Not so very long ago, the marshmallow-faced Elon Musk was the Orange Cheeto's constant companion and sidekick whispering in the Orange Cheeto's ear.  It was as if they were attached at the hip.  

Now that the public is outraged and staging protests and burning up Tesla dealerships, the pasty-white-squishy-faced Elon Musk is nowhere to be found.  It is as though he has fallen off the face of the earth.  

What happened?  

The coward is hiding because he knows the public wants to kill him.  Deep down he knows he deserves it. 

Johnny Olsen

 I learned a piece of family history I wish I had not.  My sister is out here visiting from Minnesota and we get into some pretty deep conversations around the fire pit.  Let me paint the background.  Here we go.

 I always knew that my paternal grandmother had an older brother who died when he was two years old and that his name was Johnny.  I always assumed that he died of disease as many kids out on the prairie did back in 1913 and I never thought to ask what he had died from.  Nope.  He did not die of disease.  Johnny died because his father (my great-grandfather) and the large animal veterinarian operated on Johnny after they got liquored up.

Imagine this.  

The year is 1913 and the location is Donnely Township located in rural west-central Minnesota.  There is no electricity, no telephones, no running water, and the main mode of transportation is still via horse and wagon.   There are no hospitals nearby.  It's the middle of winter with white-out blizzard conditions.  Your two-year old son needs his appendix removed.  

What do you do?

Well, apparently dad and the large animal vet, which is the closest thing to a doctor they had access to, decided to get rip-roaring drunk, got the kid rip-roaring drunk, and then decided to operate on him on the kitchen table.   

The ending was horrible.

At first I felt extreme anger and rage hearing the truth about Johnny's fate for the first time.  How could my great-grandfather be so dangerously DUMB!  How could my great-grandmother stand by and allow this to happen to her BABY.  I knew there was a history of alcohol and abuse in my family, but this was over-the-top child abuse and MURDER.

After sitting on it for a couple of days and allowing this bit of unpleasant family history to process, I became mournful and felt compassion (which surprised me).  I put myself in their place.  What were my great-grandparents' options?  Again, to re-iterate, the year is 1913 and the location is Donnely Township located in rural west-central Minnesota.  There is no electricity, no running water, and the main mode of transportation is still via horse and wagon.   There are no hospitals nearby.  It's the middle of winter with white-out blizzard conditions. 

Market Manipulation

 The Orange Cheeto can call tariffs on and off on a whim.  Doing so can send the stock market into spins and spirals.  How wonderful to know before hand which levers to pull and place stock trades accordingly.  This is insider trading at its worst.  It's manipulative and disgusting.....all so billionaires can make even MORE money.  

The billionaire class is insatiable.  

Generation X and Middle Children

 Generation X is just that.  We are anonymous and unheard and blend into the wall.  We were ignored.  The Boomers, Millennials, and Gen Z are the focus.  Boomers think of Gen X as millennials, and millennials think of Gen X as Boomers.  Nobody cares what Gen Z thinks of us.  

Generation X is often compared to being a middle child - ignored and left on their own to figure out life without guidance nor support from anyone.  

Here's the kicker:  I am Generation X........AND........I am also a middle child.  Double whammy on the scale of being invisible and ignored.  I know PMF (one of my coven group) can relate to me as she is also a middle child of Club Gen X.  That's why we "get" each other without saying a word. 

Four Kites

 Have you ever had your astrological birth chart done?  I had mine done recently.  I had no idea what to expect from it.  It's a long story, but M knows of a lady who does charts.  I decided to give it a go.  I contacted the lady and we talked for a long time.  She is a long-time resident of Sonoma County and lives close to my sister-in-law.  Quite frankly, I'm surprised I have not bumped into her earlier.

After giving Chart Lady my basic birth information, I waited for her to contact me to set up an appointment to go over the outcome.  She did.  When I arrived at her house the first thing she told me was how rare my chart was as it had "four kites" in it.  Chart Lady was so astounded that she contacted the person who taught her astrological charts as mine is so rare. 

First off, I know NOTHING about astrological birth charts.  I was kind of freaked out because I had absolutely NO idea what having "four kites" even meant.  Was I going to die in a freak accident?  Is the devil going to condemn me to hell?  Will I die of measles in Texas?   Will I be forced to drive a Tesla for the rest of my life?  

Apparently, having a kite in your astrological chart is extremely rare.  Having four kites that overlap each other is unheard of.  My "kites" are poised to come to power in the next 5-10 years.  I'm still trying to figure out what this all means.  It's like my suppressed, cosmic zit is about to finally pop with all the good stuff.  Chart Lady showed me birth charts of the hundreds of others she has done.  None even had a single kite.  Chart Lady is not some schemer where she intends to make money on any of this - as the skeptic in me went there.  Chart Lady is comfortably retired and does this for the pure passion of it.  She does not charge any $ and is not trying to sell anything.

In the meantime I am trying to figure out the whole "kite" formation in an astrological chart means.  I have a long way to go as I know nothing - assuming any of this means anything at all.

I guess I will go and fly a kite.  In fact, I will go and fly four of them.

Just What Do We Say?

I'm not sure what to say to our friends who are going to visit from the UK in a few, short weeks about our messed up governmental affairs.  I'm sorry the entire world hates us right about now.  Hey, I have an idea.  How about going to Laganitas for a pint and some nachos? 

 

Market Crash 2025

As I type this I am anticipating a market crash in just 4 hours or so.  How do I know?  I don't, really.  I am just going off of hippie vibes and other woo-woo-measurements-witchy-bitchy vibes Wall Street does not recognize but yet someone like myself gravitates towards.   

Am I wrong?  In a few hours you will know.  

WTF is happening?

 I am dizzy trying to keep up the head spinning whiplash the Orange Cheeto is mandating from the Oval Office.  Why does it matter to me?  I work in an industry that is heavily dependent on imports for materials and supplies.  We are still reeling from supply chain disruptions from COVID.  Now, with the announcement of tariffs, our fledgling post-COVID economic recovery is getting slaughtered.  

Most contracts do not have protections for tariff price escalations.  What does that mean?  I can provide an over simplified example.  Because of the lingering impacts of COVID, we need to order materials 1.5 years in advance for widget A.  We bid a project that will utilize widget A.  Widget A used to cost $1 and that is the price we put in the bid.  Now widget A costs $4.  We need to pay the difference to get the delivery of Widget A.  Who will ultimately eat the $3 difference?  Multiply the $3 difference by the millions and it gets ugly very quickly.  

We are also very dependent on the United States Department of Labor and also the National Labor Relations Board.  Decisions have been rescinded and the departments gutted.  Who's on first?  Where do we go to get resolution?  It's utter chaos.  Everyday it's notice after notice after notice of changes.  Nobody can keep up. 

Also, who ordained the unelected-pasty-white-South African-pedophile with a limp spaghetti noodle dick as Orange Cheeto's shadow?  Have you ever noticed Spaghetti Noodle Dick always has his mini-me son hanging around?  He is using his own kid as a human shield.  He knows the hit men are out there.  Having a kid on his shoulders and climbing about makes the target harder to hit.  Even hit men have morals (I think).  

I had higher hopes that the Orange Cheeto would have learned lessons from the previous term.  I truly went into this election cycle thinking he had grown as presidential contender.  I am slow to render opinions on political figures.   I'm so disappointed in the Orange Cheeto.  I really wanted to believe that this time would be better.  Don't even get me started on the blue-eyed devil who is VP.   

I almost want to write Orange Cheeto a letter like one would write to a lost love with the phrase, "Babe, we really could have been something special." 

 p.s. apologies to our allies.  With friends like the United States, who needs enemies? 

 

Valentine's Day and Presidents' Day

 A fun little fact about Quiet Rage (as if anybody actually cares).  I was supposed to be born on Valentine's Day and I was supposed to be named Valerie.  The universe had other plans.  I was not born on Valentine's Day and my name is not Valerie.  

How do you celebrate Valentine's Day?  Back in the 80's we used to get secret candy or flower grams in high school.  I used to sit in each class and hope for the delivery of a secret candy/flower gram valentine from a secret admirer.   I wanted that valentine from a secret admirer and then the kiss on the dance floor at the Valentine's Dance from said secret admirer who was not a secret at that point.  To this day I can tell you the songs that were playing at the high school dances where those magical kisses happened.  I knew when a boy put his hand on the small of my back during a dance he would do the "lean in" for the kiss. 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh youth.  It was soooooooooooo long ago.   We have all been long-married to other people and many of us are grandparents at this point.  Still, we can all look back and smile fondly on the innocence of those days.  Life marches ahead and now the 1980's are 40 years in the rear view mirror.   

Now that I have an AARP card, which is valid identification for obtaining my "age 55+ senior wisdom discount" on Tuesdays at the grocery store, I celebrate Valentine's Day with my kids and their spouses.  It's now a family event.  Yes, there is love; however, the definition of love has shifted away from my raging, boy-crazy hormones of a love-starved teenager to a mature, motherly love appreciating my adult kids and their spouses (and always a few extras) by taking them all out for a very nice dinner.  I think my family puts a big emphasis on  Valentine's Day as it is close to my birthday and we can celebrate two things at once (hey, life is busy). 

 It's kind of fun to make reservations for Valentine's Day dinner as it is usually assumed by the person answering the phone that I want a quiet, romantic table for two.  When I call for reservations, it's for a group of about 8-10 people.  It's especially fun as we are not quite celebrating Valentine's Day nor my birthday.  It's kind of a random, undefined blend.......which works for us as I LOATHE waitstaff singing me 'happy birthday' donning big sombreros, maracas, clapping, and a flaming dessert. 

With that being stated, my daughter threw me a curve ball today.  She is totally capable of throwing curve balls as she was a collegiate softball pitcher.  LOL.   She kidnapped me this morning and took me for  coffee, a massage, lunch, a painting class, and then dinner.  I was not expecting it at all.  I started crying when she said she wanted to thank me for everything I have done for her.  

I guess today was my reward for not killing my daughter when she was a snotty teenager complete with mood swings and attitude who used to dramatically slam her bedroom door and throw herself on her bed making sure the entire household heard her sighs and cries.  LOL. 

Which brings me to Presidents' Day.  I guess it is supposed to honor the birthdays of President Lincoln and President Washington.  The month of February produces quality people, right?  

Let's look at the focus of Presidents' Day.  It's an excuse to get a day off and go skiing up at Tahoe.  Seriously, one would think that we would look at the contributions and struggles of Washington and Lincoln and put ourselves in their shoes to think about the decisions that needed to be made along with their short-term and long-term consequences and sacrifices on society.  Instead, Presidents' Day has been cheapened to nothing but shilling mattresses and appliances....and an excuse for ski week. 

Great Grandmother Olsen

 Quiet Rage has been on her great grandmother Olsen's farm food journey.  Great Gramma Olsen lived in Morris, Minnesota where her family settled the land back in the 1860's.  They were the iconic prairie pioneer homesteaders.  To add to the iconic story of the prairie lifestyle, my great grandfather used to milk cows in the morning and then deliver the mail using a team of horses.  This was Minnesota 100+ years ago.  There was no heated mail truck.  There was no heated barn.  There was no snow plough to clear the roads.  There was no running to the grocery store.  There was no running water.  There was no electricity.  

Where I'm going with this is that my great grandmother Olsen was an excellent cook and baker.  My father's sisters were wonderful stewardesses of keeping Gramma Olsen's recipes in tact.  They put together a little cook book for us to keep the recipes in the family.  My favorite is Gramma Olsen's sugar cookies.  The ingredients are so simple one would think that such a simple recipe would be bland.  Nope.  Gramma Olsen's sugar cookies are legendary.  

The other recipe is Gramma Olsen's pickled beets.  For whatever reason, that recipe always intimidated me.  I finally decided to try it.  There were some beets left in our garden that needed to get pulled up before it got too cold and wet.  I called my aunt (yes, two of my dad's three sisters still live - we are too spicy to just grow old and lie down) and asked her to describe Gramma Olsen's process of pickling and canning beets.  

Gramma Olsen's pickled beet recipe and method did not disappoint.  I now have a stash of delicious pickled beets that are so good they can be eaten plain right out of the jar like candy (but SUPER healthy).  Again, true to Gramma Olsen's ingredients, they are simple and pure.  Maybe the magic is in the few and simple ingredients.  I'm thinking about entering Gramma's beet recipe in the Sonoma County Fair.  .... and perhaps her sugar cookies. 

Where is Kamala?

 Kamala, along with Hillary, thought they were going to beat the Orange Cheeto without much effort.  Wow.  Know your audience (or should I say voters).  They were too self-absorbed, unplugged from the real angst of middle class Americans, and over confident believing their own bs to think otherwise.  

Yup.  They were high off the smell of their own farts.

Here's where it is at.  Kamala owes a lot of money to her campaign.  Vendors and contractors are going unpaid.  Somehow, the media does not want to talk about that.  Just *how* will Kamala pay off her campaign debts?  Will she beg for a public bailout like everyone else who can't manage their own finances?  

Angry Muslims

 What is it with angry Muslims driving their cars into crowds where people are gathered to have a good time?  There was the recent incident in Germany and now in New Orleans.  WTF is their problem?