A Tale of Woe - of a horrible adoption - Joan Wheeler/Doris Sippel slams yet again, the woman and the priest who she thinks is responsible for that horrible adoption

In my last blog post, "Another nonsense statement (lie) from Joan Wheeler/Doris Sippel about my mother" - I wrote about Joan/Doris' response on facebook to the news of the Catholic Diocese of Buffalo naming 40 former Catholic priests who had been accused of child abuse. Joan/Doris told how she had known one of those priests when she was 12 years. And she then related that my father had shown her my mother's high school diploma and she recognized that same priest's name on the diploma. -- HA! In my blog post, I related that my mom had not even graduated from high school (confirmed by her brother, who is still living) and besides, she attended a public school, not a Catholic school, before dropping out of school. But see, Joan/Doris never bothers to do proper research and get the facts - but even when she does have the facts, she likes to twist the story around to suit her fantasies. In other words, she makes up things and LIES.

This blog post is about her second comment - made after a fb contact of hers, Mary P. asked if the priest (who supposedly signed my mom's non-existent diploma) "Was this the same priest who leaned on your birth father to relinquish you after your mother died?" (a fictitous story that Joan/Doris loves to tell about how her adoption was first thought of - that at my mom's wake, a woman and a priest both came up to my father and suggested that Doris be adopted). I have the screen shot of this and Joan/Doris' answer. It is included in this blog post below. I won't type the whole thing out, but want to address a couple of things.

But first, the whole purpose of Joan/Doris' of telling this oh-so-sad, and totally FICTITOUS story is to ellicit SYMPATHY for herself. Witness what Mary says to her: Mary: "I'm so sorry, Doris. How unfortunate that this woman took advantage of your natural father while he was grieving. At that moment, he must have been so vulnerable. There's just some people who want what they want when they want it--no matter other people's feelings. And then the priest didn't intervene. Hugs to you, Mary"

Now, lets straighten this mess out.

My mom was in the hospital since Christmastime 1955. Very sick, pregnant. On January 7, she went into premature labor and delivered the baby, who being 2 months premature, was placed into an incubator. An exploratory surgery on mom was scheduled a couple weeks later and as soon as they opened her up, they saw she was full of cancer. Nothing could be done.

When the baby, named Doris was old enough to be discharged, she went 'home' with my mother's brother Richard and his wife Ann. Ann herself just had a baby in January 1956 and had little ones at home.

My mom's sister Catherine, who just had a baby girl on March 2, 1956, had a childhood friend named Helen. Catherine and Helen were still very close. Helen knew of my mom's illness and imminent death and the new baby. Helen's brother Edward's wife Dorothy was infertile and they had tried to adopt once before. Helen asked Catherine if my father would consider giving the baby up for adoption. Catherine called my father and suggested it. My father talked to our parish priest for guidance. My father did make the decision to relinquish the baby for adoption.

Now Joan/Doris loves to tell the tale that a woman approached my father at my mom's wake in the funeral home and asked about the baby be adopted. "I know someone who will take your baby." She has told that tale all over the place. And usually that's all she says. But this time she goes on to continue: "She (the woman) procured the baby - me - for her older brother and his wife to adopt."

Joan/Doris has also always told the tale as that AFTER (remember that word - AFTER) - the woman puts the idea of adoption into my father's head, he goes to his parish priest for advice and Joan/Doris has the priest telling him "the baby needs two parents." But now, in this NEW re-telling of her tale, Joan/Doris has the priest AND the woman badgering my father at the wake. AND she has the priest talking to my father BEFORE the woman talks to my father.

This is how the new tale goes: She tells of the priest talking to my father (answering Mary if the priest who was accused of child abuse is the same priest who talked to my father at my mom's wake) Joan/Doris says "NO! Good question though. " She goes on to say how she believes the priest who talked to my father had 'good intentions' and she continues her tale thusly: "AND, a woman came up to my father at my mother's funeral minutes after the priest. She said "I know someone who will take your baby."

Okay - so who approached my father first - the woman or the priest? Depends on when Joan/Doris tells the tale. Apparently the sequence of events changes. Well, you know what that means? Yes, Joan/Doris is a LIAR.

Remember how I said Joan/Doris tells this tale of woe to garner sympathy? Well, let's go over the timeline of Joan/Doris' oh-so-pitiful first year of life.

She is prematurely born on January 7, 1956 to a terminally ill woman, who dies on March 28, 1956. When Doris is discharged from the hospital, (I'm not sure of the exact date) she is taken by my mom's brother and his wife Ann. On March 4, 1956, Doris is baptized in Sacred Heart Church. Her godparents are Richard and Ann. She returns home with them. My mom dies on March 28, 1956. When exactly my Aunt Catherine spoke to her friend Helen is unknown. When exactly Helen spoke to her brother Edward is unknown. When exactly my Aunt Catherine spoke to my father is unknown. What is known is that sometime AFTER my mom's funeral, (according to my uncle Richard, who had offered to adopt Doris) my father called him up and told him to get the baby ready in a nice dress, as he (my father) was coming to get her (presumbly he had a ride, as my dad never learned to drive - his choice). He told Richard that he was taking Doris to meet other members of the family. But - he apparently he actually took her to the Wheeler's (or Surrogate Court, or some other meeting place). Now, I remember Joan/Doris telling me that she lived with the Wheelers for six months on a "trial basis." According to the actual adoption papers, my father signed his consent to the adoption on October 24, 1956. The Wheeler's verified their decision by signature on December 5, 1956, and the adoption was finalized on January 15, 1957. So if my father signed his final consent in October, six months before October was April - which jives with my Uncle Richard’s account.

But all this BULLSHIT about the priest and the woman is MEANINGLESS anyway. The exact time my father made the decision to relinquish the baby to adoption is unknown. Does it matter if someone approached him at the funeral? Well, it does if only for respect - but for the final outcome? My father had from April 1956 to the time he made the final signature on papers on October 24, 1956 to re-consider his decision. He did not. The adoption was not finalized until January 15, 1957, giving my father an additional two and a half months to change his mind - he did not.

Joan/Doris simply can NOT get over the fact that she was adopted. Her whole time on this planet is fighting that. She HATES the fact she is adopted and will try out any excuse as to why she should not have been adopted, and will try out any ridiculous scenerio on how her adoption could have been avoided. What's the purpose? No matter how much time she spends on it, no matter how much she fights it - the simple thing of her life is - she was adopted. NOTHING she says or does will ever change that. She's been trying for more than 40 years - she has wasted her life on trying to change something that cannot be changed. No kind of idea she can put forth will change the past. For example, in her facebook answer to Mary about the family priest who counseled my father, she starts talking 'what ifs' and says she thinks the priest meant well, but offered no real tangible help, like child care while my father was at work. She says "I don't think there was any malice intended by the priest ... only misguided advice." She goes on to say that she gets angry that the priest did not say (she actually made a typo and left out the word 'not' - but we get her point) "How can I help you keep your family together? You know, food baskets, baby clothes, diapers, church volunteers? I just can't understand why that was not arranged."

Uh DUH - First - there was NO lack of baby supplies and clothes - until Doris was born, I was the youngest of three sisters. And a brother two years older than me. There were plenty of hand-me-down clothes. PLUS the fact that in early 1956 - there were other babies born in the family - Richard and Ann had my cousin Jimmy, my Uncle Henry and Aunt Bertha had Dennis, my Aunt Catherine had Gail. Siblings and siblings-in-law of my mom - so I'm sure there would have been plenty of diapers and other baby supplies. Food? oh for crying out loud! Joan/Doris makes it sound as my family was absolutely poverty stricken (she has said this in her libelous bullshit book) but that was not the case. My father worked as a draftsman in the street paving department for the city of Buffalo in Buffalo's city hall. Joan/Doris keeps forgetting that in the 1950's there were no daycare centers like we have now. There simply was no one to take care of her during the day while my father was at work. AND four other young children. -- Church volunteers. That's asking an awful lot from other church members - you're talking possibly 18 years of daytime babysitting for a family of 5 young kids.

But as I said above, Joan/Doris can't reconcile the fact that she was adopted. All these what ifs, all these maybes, all these judgments on my father, my stepmother (the woman he married a few months after my mom died, who needed a father for her two sons, but at the age of 36 did not want to take care of an infant), judging and condemning my aunt, her friend, a priest, other relatives, everyone in our neighborhood and church who didn't step up to the plate to save HER from being horribly adopted -- what's the fucking point?

Joan/Doris' tale of woe of her horrible adoption and the planting of the idea of adoption in my dad's head at the funeral of my mom - is nothing but Joan/Doris to get people to feel sorry for her. Even if and that's a big IF someone did approach him at a vulnerable time - he had ample time to change his mind. HE DID NOT. End of story. She was adopted, that's it.

AND of course, Joan/Doris tells her tale of woe with the lie about my mom's 'fictitious' high school diploma the very week of the anniversary of my mom's death. Why? Because she writes crap like this EVERY year around this time - because she knows I and my other sister Gert are reading her shit - she does it to hurt us. But fool that she is, she doesn't realize this does NOT hurt us - just because we write a rebuttal and point out Joan/Doris' lies and other bullshit, does not mean we are hurt - we are simply telling the truth about our mom, who is being continuously DISHONORED by this continuous bullshit that Joan/Doris spews out.

Another nonsense statement (lie) from Joan Wheeler/Doris Sippel about my mother

On March 20, 2018, the Buffalo News published a report from the Buffalo Catholic Diocese that named Catholic priests that have been accused of child abuse (sexual and otherwise). The report contained a list of 40 priests with accusations going back to the 1960’s. This was also reported on the local Buffalo television news stations.
http://buffalonews.com/2018/03/20/buffalo-diocese-names-priests-accused-of-abusing-minors/

I knew one of the priests named, in fact I, and one of my cousins, had done volunteer work under his guidance with mentally and physically handicapped children at West Seneca Developmental Center. In 1988 when he was first accused, I was in disbelief and defended him, but a week later he came forward and admitted to the accusations. I was so disillusioned. I wrote about it on my facebook page.

Doris Michol Sippel, formerly known as Joan Mary Wheeler decided to tell of her experiences with one of those priests on her facebook page. In her facebook post, Joan/Doris again engages in falsehoods about MY family. This blog post is to refute Joan/Doris' lies, misrepresentations, and total twisting of the facts surrounding the circumstances of MY mother’s wake, and MY father’s decision to relinguish Joan/Doris to adoption.

I have a screenshot of what she wrote (courtesy of a friend of mine, as I am blocked from Joan/Doris’ page and can’t see first hand of what she writes). I also have a screenshot of a subsequent comment of hers. These two screenshots are at the end of this post. I will not type out word for word what she said - that is why I have the screenshots here - but I will type out the sentences she said that I will refute.

In this post, I will address what she says in her initial post. In that post, she names the priest on the list that she knew when she was 12 years old. She goes out of her way to say that she was not a victim, that she witnessed the priest bullying other children. She then goes on to say “oh, and the story gets even better!” (what, are we all sitting around a campfire trying to tell tall tales?) She says "When I first met my father in 1974 (Senior year of high school), he showed me my natural mother's high school diploma. Yup. Signed by Joseph Schieder, circa 1942." She then goes on to say he had signed her own 8th grade graduation diploma, along with the Bishop.

Joan/Doris went to a Catholic grammar school, a Catholic high school, and a Catholic college. So all her diplomas would be signed by a Catholic priest/monsignior/bishop. However, my mother NEVER went to ANY Catholic school in her life!

Growing up in the Bailey/Walden section of Buffalo, her parish church was Holy Name of Jesus on Bailey Avenue. She attended religious instruction (the Catholic way of saying “Bible or Sunday School”) at Holy Name of Jesus school that was next door to the church. She went to grammar school at Buffalo Public School Number 9 that used to be on Bailey Ave. a little ways from Holy Name. My mother’s younger brother, Richard tells me they used to leave school, walk down Moeller Ave to the railroad tracks and follow them down to their street past Walden Ave.

My mother did NOT attend a Catholic high school either -- she went to EAST SIDE HIGH SCHOOL that was (still is) located at 820 Northampton St. behind what was then known as Humboldt Park, now known as Martin Luther King Park.
information of East High School, can be found at this link:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_High_School_(Buffalo,_New_York)

I have included below a screenshot of the first bit of that wiki article.

NO CATHOLIC PRIEST WOULD HAVE SIGNED ANY DIPLOMA FROM ANY STUDENT FROM BUFFALO PUBLIC SCHOOLS.

Also, NO one EVER signed my mother’s high school diploma -- because -- MY MOTHER NEVER GRADUATED FROM HIGH SCHOOL! How do I know this? Because her brother, my uncle Richard told me this just last week! And he should know -- HE WAS A FRESHMAN AT EAST WHEN MY MOM WAS A SENIOR - year - 1945. He said she did NOT graduate. Many girls of that era didn’t graduate because in that era, most girls didn’t aspire to careers, they wanted to be moms and housewives. I have her scrapbook and it is filled with newspaper and magazine articles and pictures of just what a young mom/housewife would have: pictures of cute little kids, kittens, how to please your hubby.

Really, up to the 1960’s if a girl in Buffalo wanted to have a career, the only career they were encouraged to go for was nursing - Buffalo Public High School Fosdick-Masten (now City Honors School) was for pre-nursing. Many of the girls did hands-on volunteer work as ‘Candy Stripers’ at the nearby Buffalo General Hospital, and when they graduated high school, went on to nursing school at Buffalo General’s on-campus nursing school. By the time I started working at BGH in 1972, the Candy Striper program had ended, the school of nursing saw a decline in attendance, closing forever about 20 years later. Bacause by then, girls were aspiring to a more variety of careers.

I also know that my mom attended Public School 9 -- because I have her class ring. I’ve had it since I was around 12 or 13 when my father gave it to me. And it says right on it -- Public School 9. I also have her prayer book that she received from Holy Name of Jesus Church when she received her First Holy Communion.

I am a member of Classmates dot com and they have on their website - many old yearbooks. I looked at the 1945 yearbook, the year that my uncle Richard was a freshman, and my mom was a senior. There is no senior picture of my mom. There is a picture of my uncle in the school’s Christmas play - Dicken’s “Christmas Story” in which Richard played Tiny Tim Cratchit. I have included the pictures of him as Tiny Tim, and a picture of the cast list that clearly says “Richard Herr.” Uncle Rich says he joined the Drama Club because my mom was in it.

So, Joan/Doris’ bullshit story about a Catholic priest signing my mother’s high school diploma is just that: BULLSHIT. She opens her mouth and the shit spews out. She doesn't care about facts, the truth, or anything but what her warped mind thinks happened. And because she's an adoptee, other so-called 'adult' adoptees think her word is golden - they are just as warped as she is. They think that an event from the 1940's and the 1950's can't be researched and proven. 

screenshot of Joan/Doris’ initial facebook post:

pictures from East High School yearbook 1945 - front page and of the Christmas show with my uncle Richard Herr:

screenshot of wiki article on East High School:

requiescat et pace (RIP) John Gavin - (1931-2018), played Julius Caeser in the 1960 movie Spartacus.

Of all the actors to play Caeser, I think John Gavin was the most handsome. Runner up would be Karl Urban who played Caeser in the Xena TV series.

The man himself, Julius Caeser is a fascinating man. So much more to him than Shakespeare wrote. I look forward to learning more about him.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julius_Caesar

 I’ve always been fascinated with ancient cultures, civilizations, and mythologies. My main interest has been ancient Egypt and Greece. And I’ve always been meaning to study the Roman Empire. I’ve also always wanted to learn another language when I retired. I want to learn French, Greek, Latin, and Tolkien Elvish. I decided to start with Latin, because I already have a background in it, having been brought up in the Catholic Church when Latin was still used.

In my Latin studies, (which fell by the wayside in recent months due to my need to have cataract surgery), I also decided to study the history of the Roman Empire. I started reading the “Ceasar and Christ” volume in the book series “The Story of Civilization” by Will and Arient Durant. Then I’ll go on to Gibbon’s “The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.”

What’s Love Got to Do With It? -- It has EVERYTHING to do with it.

What’s Love Got to Do With It? -- It has EVERYTHING to do with it.

So as it happens, a anti-adoption person who writes for Huffington and who was pissed when my sister Gert McQueen commented on her articles and wrote a blog post on her old blog suffered some bad luck while on a trip to New Zealand. She took a ‘trip’ and broke her ankle - and I guess her other ankle was sprained. So she’s now stuck in a hospital in NZ and trying to line up rehab for when she returns home to the United States. -- I’ve never been one to feel happy over someone’s ill health, but I can recognize karma slapping someone in their face.

But that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about Ms. M.R.’s saying she needs to ‘re-home’ her cat - because now that she will essentially be disabled, she can no longer care for him properly and it wouldn’t be fair to him.

What? She is throwing that cat out like garbage!!! How dare she? Does she not know the trauma she will be putting that cat through? He has to forget about the only home he’s ever known, the only human parent he’s only known, and has to go a new home, new human parents, perhaps have his name changed, have his identity stripped away from him?

Why is it all right to do that to a cat, but bitch when something similar happens to human babies? Now, now, don’t give me that “a cat is an animal, not a person.” How do you know? Cats have emotions too.

So let’s take a look at a human baby born to a young unwed mother. She had birth control, but it failed. She doesn’t have any family to rely on to help her with her baby. She has a job - minimum wage. How will she work and take care of a child at the same time? Maybe she also is handicapped - perhaps she has MS and is working as a cashier in a grocery store a few hours a day. She is in a wheelchair and finds it difficult to manuever around her house let alone run after a toddler.

Thinking down the road as she awaits the birth of her child, she thinks “perhaps I should give the child up for adoption, so he can have a better chance at life than I could give him.”

So if Ms. M.R. can see the need to give her cat to another home -- she should be able to see why sometimes adoption of human babies occurs.

So getting back to cats and emotions. In October 2016, a dear friend of mine had to move and her new landlord wouldn’t allow pets. I agreed to take her cat Mahmi. It was an unfortunate occurance and poor Mahmi! She was so scared when she came to my house. --  “Where is my human mom? Why am I here in this strange house? Who are these humans? I don’t know them. I want to go home.”

Mahmi hid behind the couch for a week. She did let me pet her - but I had to reach down behind the couch to do it. She only came out in the middle of the night to eat and use the litter box when John and I were in bed. I put out her toys, she wouldn’t play with them. I would try to get her to come out -- “come here sweetheart, no one’s going to hurt you.”

A week after she came to my house - I went to house and dog sit for my cousin who went to Florida for vacation. Meanwhile, my husband John made sure Mahmi had food and water. He told me the cat wouldn’t come out. My cousin only lives just over a mile from me, so I came home and Mahmi heard my voice and started to come out from behind the couch - but then she saw John and hid again.

When my cousin returned from Florida and I came home, and Mahmi heard my voice, she poked her head out - “Come here sweetie,” I said. She still wouldn’t come out. It took me another week to get her out. I kept calling her ‘sweetie,’ and I accidentaly changed her name - she would never come to me when I called her Mahmi - but would come when I called her Sweetie. (her identity was changed).

Another month goes by and now Sweetie is running around, playing, sitting on my lap when I’m lounging on my couch. I discover she loves yogurt. I always have some yogurt when I’m watching Young and the Restless and we develop a routine. She sits on the arm of the couch near me while I’m having my yogurt. When I’m done, I give her a little bit on the spoon. She licks the spoon clean, then licks the container clean. Then she settles down on my lap.She purrs. She likes when I pick her up and snuggle her. I smack my lips with kisses for her. Then I notice she’s putting her face in my ear and making little smacking noises!!!!

I’ve been a human parent for furbabies continuously from 1979 to 2013. In 1979 I had a kitty named Gigi, then in 1982 I got another cat from my friend John (he who is now my husband). Gigi went to kitty heaven in 1983, but Francois was with me until 1992. John had 3 cats - Renaissance, Morris and PeeWee - Morris and PeeWee were daughters of mama Renaissance. Francois was Morris’ son. In 1987 John and I moved in together (we got married in 2002). So Francois was re-united with his mom, sister, and grandma. lol.

Morris had a litter of kittens one week after we moved. Try setting up a new house with 4 cats, and new kittens underfoot! It wasn’t easy. Then PeeWee had a litter. We found homes for them. A year later -- more kittens. We kept one of Morris’ - a beautiful black kitty we named Samantha. A year later - Samantha was pregnant and we kept one of her kittens, Muffy. I started squirreling money away. By this time, Rennaisance had gone to kitty heaven (1988). As soon as we had enough money, we got Samantha spayed, then we got PeeWee and Muffy spayed. We didn’t bother with Morris, because she was getting old and in early 1990, she too went to kitty heaven, followed by Francois in early 1992, leaving us with Samantha, PeeWee, and Muffy.

In 1993, John brought home a beautiful dog - a three year old Siberian Husky named Brandy. The cats hated her. lol. PeeWee the Bitch walked up to the dog and POW! slapped her right in the snout! oh dear. Well, that 65 pound Husky/Malamute acquiesed to the 9 pound Alpha dog, er, cat.

For a surprise birthday present in August 1996, John brought me two kittens - a guy he worked for had a cat who had kittens and was looking for homes for them. There was a boy and a girl, whom I named Isis and Pippin. Unfortunately Isis was sick and at 6 months old, had to be put down. PeeWee followed her shortly afterward.

Pippin and Samantha didn’t really get along - Samantha still didn’t like the dog, but Pippin loved her. Brandy went to puppy heaven in 2002 and Samantha went to kitty heaven in 2004.

We had Pippin for another 9 years, when at the age of 17, he too had to be put down. I was so heartbroken. In 2013, for the first time since 1979, I had no fur-babies! I didn’t want any more. But a year later, I found myself thinking about getting a couple of new kitties. But I never seriously went ahead with it. Then Mahmi/Sweetie came into my life.

And I fell in love with her. And she with me. But then just one year later, Mahmi/Sweetie became ill. I called my friend, Mahmi/Sweetie’s mom, and together we took her to be put down.

Love is love. Why can’t people see that? John and I loved ALL our fur-babies and I’m sure Ms. M.R. loves her cat and I’m sure he loves her. But she, stuck in a hospital in New Zealand, and thinking practically, made the painful decision that she must re-home her cat.

And that happens to humans as well. And for all those adoptees out there dissing infertile women -- how heartless they are. I happen to be an infertile woman. It took me years of trying with my first husband to get pregnant, only to lose my son through miscarriage in June 1985. To me, and many other pet parents, those fur-babies ARE our children. It’s called LOVE. And yep - if 30 years ago, if I had the option and ability to adopt a human child after I lost my son - I would have and I don’t give a damn what any anti-adoption person thinks about that.

Sweetie/Mahmi -- Auntie Ruth loved you very much.

Eyes Update by Ruth Sippel Pace (LadyMoondancer)

Got my new bi-focal glasses yesterday. they look very nice. Because the prescription is so different I didn't wear them out of the store. I put them on as I got up this morning. - a little tip an optician told me years ago - when you're having problems adjusting to new glasses, put them on when you first wake up.

A new minor problem came up when I had my exam for the glasses a couple of weeks ago - I am slightly seeing double - the right eye sees things slightly lower than the left eye. Due to a muscle imbalance. The doctor said it probably started some time ago and I never noticed it due to the cataracts.

So my new glasses are 'prism' lens - which corrects that. I've never had prism glasses, and that's probably why I'm going to need time to adjust. But at least now I can read without the hassle of putting on readers, taking them off -- it was maddening trying to pay bills last week - I can read the computer screen just fine - when I was on my bank's website, then I go to enter things in my checkbook register - I can't read. So on go the glasses. Need to enter the amount on the computer - off go the glasses. On, off, on, off, on, off. I have had enough of that shit!

And having to function outside with no Transition sunglass lenses??? Yesterday was a nightmare. This vampire had a lot of problems in yesterday's bright sunshine. I drove with the dark dark sunglasses/visor the doctor's office that did my surgery gave me. But those remind me of the visor that Spock wore in the episode "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" -- very large and cumbersome. So when I parked, off they came, and regular sunglasses go on. Get in the store - off go the sunglasses. Another case of on,off, on, off - plus the added step of interchanging sunglasses.

Still, with all these aggravations - I am so happy with the outcome. I am amazed at the medical technology that not only took care of the cataracts, but gave me such improved eyesight.

I send my thanks to my doctors and everyone involved in my care these past 3 months.

Ruth Sippel Pace's new blog regarding the libelous book Forbidden Family by Joan Mary Wheeler now known as Doris Michol Sippel, and related topics.

Welcome to the new blog regarding the libelous book Forbidden Family by Joan Mary Wheeler now known as Doris Michol Sippel, and related topics.

I've had my original blog since December 2009, one month after Joan/Doris published her book. I got a notice the other day from Wordpress that my blog was suspended because it "contains content written for gaming search engines" -- I have no idea what that means -- I do play that stuff online, but my blog is not about that. Gert's blogs also were suspended for that same reason. I suspect some glitch in their algorithm programs. And because our blogs are linked, they all got suspended. -- Our blogs are not about fooling around, they are about restorative justice.

We are very mystified and upset with WordPress - that their mistake has messed up our blogs. We notified WordPress, but to no avail. Well, it is what it is.

So I have to rebuild - but that's not necessarily a bad thing, because we know from experience that Joan/Doris will not stop attacking and belittling us, her birth sisters, everywhere she goes on the internet. It's her favorite past-time. Because she has no life. We, on the other hand, have lives, and as much as we are disappointed with WordPress - this has given us a chance to examine things.

Our main objective to our blogs - to refute the lies in the book has been done. We covered every page, every lie - and many lies were refuted using actual police and court document, letters written by Joan (some in her own handwriting) that are a direct contradiction (lie) of what she said in the book and on the internet.

A second objective was also achieved: using that documented evidence, we proved to her first publisher, Trafford Publications, that Joan/Doris lied in her book, in violation of the contract that she signed with them -- that 'everything' in the book was factual and true. And that by putting in a footnote that led her readers to an article she wrote in 1990 that contained my real name, she did not protect my identity -- she led her readers right to me - affixing a real name and identity to those lies. In May of 2011, Trafford pulled her book from publication.

Because of our activities online, we have also been able to counter and refute her lies about us online. Yes, she still has a bunch of 'supporters' who believe every word she says -- but in examining them, we have found them to be as damaged as she is. And others reading our blogs have discovered how damaged she is - I have through the years, had several adult adoptees, and former friends of Joan/Doris contact me through my blog and even on facebook to give me support and tell stories of how they too were maligned by her.

And since we know that Joan/Doris will not cease in her hatred of her birthsisters - because she resents us deeply - in the fact that our father relinquished her to adoption, but not us - we need a venue such as a blog - to continue refuting her lies. Because if she has the 'freedom of speech' to lie about us - we have the freedom to tell the truth about us.

For about 3 years now, I have actually done very little blogging. With our main objectives reached, there hasn't been that much reason for me to spend that much time on it. And since I've retired two years ago, my life has taken new directions.

We are in the start of a new year - the time of new beginnings. The time to end one chapter and start a new one. "The word January comes from the Roman name for this month; it was named after the god Janus, who had two faces. This diety ruled over beginnings and endings, the past and the future. Since January is reckoned as the first month of a new year, this connection with the god Janus is appropriate. It is an excellent time to work on putting aside the old and outdated in one's personal life and making plans for new and better conditions." -- from "Moon Magick" by D.J. Conway - 1997 Llewellyn Publications.

As most of us make New Years resolutions, so had I. I had started studying Latin several months ago, but got sidetracked when my eyes started having trouble and in October had my first cataract surgery. In December, I had my second surgery. Around the New Year I got reading glasses and started back reading. I'm still a bit near-sighted in my left eye, and am now waiting for new bifocals.

I had thought about what my New Years resolutions for 2018 would be and decided that I wanted to get back to my Latin. There are also three areas of my pagan spirituality that I've been reading about in the past years, and doing it rather haphazardly. These areas being: the pagan holidays and changing seasons, (how our ancestors observed them, how they are observed in modern times); the moon and its lore, how our ancestors developed lunar lore, (there is a treasure trove of moon folklore from all ancient cultures). And lastly Tarot cards.

Last week, I went through my personal library and pulled out my books on these subjects and mapped out a loose "study plan" - certain days of the week would be set aside for studying a certain area. Monday (moon-day) obviously will be for reading about the moon. Saturdays and Sundays for seasons and Sabbats (neo-pagan term for holy day). And then there is Tarot Tuesday, with Latin being studied on Fridays. I figure by the end of the year, I will have read and studied all 18 books that I have on my moon and seasons/sabbats, and made a dent in the 10 books I have on Tarot. As for Latin, I hope to have mastered conjugating verbs.

Yes, I am planning on growing - learning new things and totally revamping my front garden this year. Partly because the gas company ripped part of my garden up when they put in a new gas line and partly because I always wanted to have no lawn - just a garden.

So yes, as D.J. Conway says in her book "Moon Magick," " (it is) .... time to work on putting aside the old and outdated in one's personal life and making plans for new and better conditions."

Dealing with people you dislike

This was my response to a topic on a forum I belong to - Earth Based Spirituality

It certainly is a challenge to deal with rude and abusive persons, be they customers (in my case, patients), or co-workers. Or even a rude neighbor. I have always followed the "3 strikes" rule. If somebody crabs at me the first time, I give them the benefit of the doubt. We are all human, and we have all gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. If it happens a second time, I still don't say anything, but I do watch them. If it happens a third time, and if it is appropriate, I will speak up (positve assertiveness) and ask if there is something I have done to make them speak to me so rudely. 9 times out of 10, the person backs off, and we continue peacefully. But there will always be that last person who is an a-hole. And depending on the circumstances, I deal with them as little as possible. I don't respond to their negativity, I ask them to stop, and then I just walk away. I may say hello to them as our shift begins, but I don't really interact with them.I follow that line from Desiderata: "Avoid loud and aggresive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit."

If the person is a co-worker and steps over the line, I may choose to pursue a hostile work environment complaint with my manager and/or human resources.I may choose not to let their negativity affect me, but I won't tolerate continued rudeness, especially after I asked them to stop.Rude neighbors are a difficult bunch. In the inner city, where I live, asking them to stop a certain behavior (loud noise, trespassing, etc) can lead to them going out their way to step it up, just to annoy you. There are a lot of a-holes out there.