Woah, What an Ordeal!

Woah, what an ordeal,... I was snoozing on the sofa when...  

I could write all the terrible things that happened to me from May 26, 2026, (to May 29, 2026) at the outset of the morning, when the most frightening individuals showed up at my door, knocking imperatively and then most rudely and then abusively. I can't even tell you how many times these individuals rang the doorbell as if there was a emergency with my sons, who live in the city, or my husband, who works at a cleaning products company.

Now, the problem with feeling like these people were all very 'unsafe,' very specifically on Tuesday, May 26, 2026, is that I didn't know any of them; I wasn't familiar with their faces, or their families, or their backgrounds and their behaviour was bordering on being 'out of control.' I have been in many garden- related conversations and have purchased quite a lot of plants from one of the individuals, who has been employed at the same workplace as this group who carried forth a very nasty violation of my human rights with the use of a very bad law.

I am not a lawyer so I can't challenge this law but I can certainly find out how when and how this law became a means of abusive mentality behaviour by a group of people who are hired to uphold the law for the safety of law- abiding citizens, of which I am the most exemplary example. Ordinarily, I am so 'in favour' of this particular group of individuals because of what they represent in our 'law- abiding' society. But, I am here to tell you... six bad apples can spoil the whole bunch. 

I am going to explain how a law- abiding citizen, myself, was treated in my own home. After the first four males did not storm my gate, meaning, they did not jump over my locked gate,... thank the Lord... two females showed up and then I was humiliated beyond words. Because of my fear of these, all unknown, individuals, I had to have a sudden bowel movement... (much like my husband who came in the door twenty five minutes ago, today, with a pinched look on his face saying... I have to use the bathroom... and then proceeded to have a quick bowel movement before proceeding with the grocery shopping); I quickly went into the bathroom and closed the door, which does not have a lock on it because, so far, my husband has not been a maniac and come into my bathroom without express permission and we are the only two people who live here and have lived here since we renovated this bathroom and put this 'non- locking' door in place of the original derelict door. So, because my husband had been picked up, at his work, by some police, I thought he must be in very bad trouble. I did ask him how why the police had his phone number? He was at the back door and wanted to get in the house... currently we still have a lock on the door that prevents even his children and his brother, who may still have keys for this house, from being to enter... this really helps with my peace of mind.

So, because my husband was at the back door, I let him in but, unfortunately, there were other individuals, I didn't trust either who came in with him and... that is when my bowels needed to be attended to... as mentioned above. As I said, I closed the barn door ironmongery sliding door and immediately had my bowel movement but a very rude and forceful female opened the door and would not let me finish my bowel movement and certainly wouldn't let me wipe my derrière without her frightening feral gaze. I lifted my bottom off the beautiful toilet seat (we did buy a very nice toilet for our renovation) and turned on the water for my bathtub and seated myself back on the toilet as I had, not yet, been given a chance to wipe my butt. Then, blue- gloved scary woman said... you are not taking a bath and tried to turn off the water but she did not know how to turn off the tap so she turned the wrong handle and the shower started to pour onto the newish floor of our renovation. I quickly reached over and said... what are you doing... you're ruining the floor... I was actually frightened enough of her I was hoping she wasn't going to hit me with the billy club. Thank God she didn't. That is the only thing that might save her career... maybe. So, I cleaned myself... and was forced to wear the clothing that this ridiculous individual brought me from my personal bedroom, in my private home. The clothes she handed me were a pair of sweatpants I purchased for my husband and a top also my husbands' and I said... those aren't my clothes. So, I wasn't even allowed to get my own clothes from my bedroom. This is horrifying. What can possibly be wrong with people like this? I never leave the house unbathed if going anywhere I am in public for any period of time longer than a few minutes and this was a very uncomfortable forced situation.

Then, my husband and I were forced to go the the local hospital (I didn't have my purse on me) and I shall continue on telling you all about this travesty in the next few days as my ordeal did not end until I was safely back at home yesterday... Friday, May 29, 2026.

Stay tuned...  

Safe People

 Safe People... I bought and read the book.

Who are the safe people in your life?

I am waiting for my three sons to contact me. Winnipeg seems so far away... almost four hours.

My sons are the most important gifts I have ever received from God Himself.

Are they safe?

Who cares if they're safe? 

I do.

Sometimes I wonder if the churches are deaf, blind, and dumb. I certainly haven't heard from any good 'churchies.' Have you?

Let's hope we don't have the same kind of church that Bonhoeffer faced in his day.

I hope to see my sons this week. 

I'm quite sure Jordan wants to get out of 775... is his truck running? I hope their vehicles haven't been stolen... this is getting very concerning.

The Orchard versus The Orchard Walk

The Orchard versus The Orchard Walk- El Dueck 

This morning, I have sent quite a few messages asking for 'proof of life' of sons and, maybe their children, as well. I am waiting for a response. I will, most assuredly, post the 'end of this debacle' when I receive visual assurances, or 'in person' evidence of their well- being.

I am the author of The Orchard Walk - A Novel- El Dueck. I self- published this novel and I have not, yet, paid for the printing of this book... published in 2012, with a date of 2013 in the book, as I was not assured that the printing company would be able to have it ready for me to start selling copies of my 3-4 year work of human rights in a historical fiction genre.

After I published my novel, I visited my 10 RHW Christian friend, RHW are the initials for the street name of this 'friend' who, originally, came from Dauphin. We had been friends for, approximately, 25 years. 

I think she purchased one copy of my novel from me. That was a good feeling.

When I commented on the fact that it certainly was difficult to sell copies of my novel... she offered to help, if she could... I can't precisely recall if she had any ideas but what I do recall is that I hand- wrote a note... I may still have a photo of it on my external hard-drive. I do recall taking a picture of my hand- written note for 'saftey' purposes. 

At that time, I was in danger of losing my house, 90 Forest Cove Drive, and I was unsure if I would be easily reachable so I gave my friend an email address... of my sister Eva... because I was very sure that I could trust her, at that time.

To the best of my ability... the note I wrote said something like... (hopefully she still has it so we can cross- reference the note to my memory)...

Please contact me if and when any 'monies' come in from my novel...                                          The Orchard Walk El Dueck... and, if putting anything online... I want to differentiate between my novel and any money that may come in for the 'project' that my novel clearly lays out... So, to differentiate between the two categories of my novel and the possible project fundraising this may produce, I would like the 'project portion' to be called The Orchard... period.

I did not hear from my friend or my sister and so, I am wondering if anything ever did come in.

Missing a Day

 So, this late in life marriage is really having a hard time surviving.

Yesterday, husband agreed to 'do the long drive' into Winnipeg, with me, Elfrieda, for a dental appointment. 

When we first 'got together' and, forsuredly, during the early courtship season, husband would say... I want to spend all our time together. At the time, I thought, hmm, sounds romantic.

I asked  about his four children... I'm not sure he asked about my three children... and, yesterday, husband didn't even know all my childrens' names. I, sort of, didn't really feel like telling him what their names are. Why would he like to know what they are now... we've been married three and a half years. 

This morning, husband makes his own eggs... and, surprisingly, offered to give me some. I accepted.

But... as he's making his eggs, he says... I'm missing a day from yesterday... and, I say, what do you mean when you say that?

He tossed some 'fighting' words at me and I said... you know, you would be better as a single man... especially if you don't like accompanying me to Winnipeg for the people and social things that are important to me. He used his terrible line, which he has used so many times, it could be a country song... "Our relationship is done." 

Hmm, well, if that be true... he needs to find $350k for me to be able to move with all the updates and a mortgage free house and the beautiful bathroom I 'got done' here and the beautiful gazebo I built... we did build that together but I had to take the lead on that project.

Now, he tells me I have to pay for my own 'vehicle repair' on Tuesday and I said, 'Well, you have to stop driving my vehicle then because I need it to last 20 or 30 more years with the way things are going right now. 

I did call my husband on the fact that, this morning, when he said he thought my son's wife would talk to him much more readily than talk to me... I thought, 'you're a virtual stranger.' Why would they want to speak to a 'virtual stranger.' This was very worrisome.

So, I have no intention of trying to fix husbands' ideas of marriage. He has some very strange ideas. For instance, since moving all the way out here, to Dauphin, (not knowing anyone here), whom would he imagine I should ask to drive to Winnipeg, with me, when I want to go or need to go there? I am barely comfortable with him and certainly don't feel he is stable, yet.

To all the marriages, out there, with people trying to get along with each others' children... to the women, in particular, would you feel comfortable having your new husband speak with your sons' wives, in your stead?

The Truth

The Truth- on stand-by... can there be such a thing? 

I finally received one telephone call, yesterday, from a dear son. I could tell that he was stressed out. Three decent officers came to my gate and told me my son had to reach me via the emergency line. Living in a zone, without decent telephone service, is very hard on me, in particular. I prefer to know if things are alright; if my sons and their families are in need of anything; how their income is doing... if it is enough to pay all their bills... things a mother is concerned with.

I haven't heard that anyone has been in the worst trouble you could find because of 'travel.' I can think of three instances where people got in the worst trouble and only a 'miracle' protected them, during world travel.

One situation that I 'experienced'... secondary... 'standing beside', so to speak was...

... a young woman had to have emergency surgery in a foreign country and the mother did not have her passport updated and ready. She was almost impossible to console because she couldn't get to her child. The adult child was travelling with a irresponsible partner. Where do people go when they need a prayer, consolation, and 'real help?'

... another situation... a severe attack by an animal required the young man to fly back to Canada, for treatment, because they didn't want, or couldn't, spend the huge sum of 'credit card debt' to bandage his hand, in the country they were in. A lack of insurance and real funds for unpreparedness caused this very costly decision to return to Canada for treatment... flying back, getting treated, flying back again... outrageously expensive. That 'cut short' the vacation by at least a month because they really needed to get back to work and earn that vacation... underfunded and over- zealous. I worry about that thinking versus planning versus outcome.

... a emergency surgery was needed... a young man had let his insurance lapse and his family had to do a 'go fund me' to find the money for that 'foreign country' rescue.

Now, why do I talk about these types of things? 

Well, many people would like to 'cover up' things that are happening but there are times where nobody can cover anything up... during an emergency... life and death. That's when people tell the truth... if they care enough to rescue someone.

Covering up the truth is the greatest travesty and tragedy when people are suffering. Who can find a huge sum of money to 'fix it' as it is needed?

So, what is the most 'calming' thing that can help a person who enters into a completely unknown situation with complete strangers? Try to find out the truth. I wrote a long story and sent it to my sons, yesterday, about my current situation. It detailed a, approximate two year, time span. This is something we should all be aware of... a completely new situation with total strangers is a very dangerous life situation to enter into without some 'church people' or people who have known you for a very long time to be able to say...

Hmm, I don't think that can be true of that person. They have never shown that behaviour before... there would have to be a huge change in them to have me believe that would be true... in all those rumours, there's always room for the truth... calling once a month doesn't mean you're dependent... it just means you're responsible... 

So, let's get into lingo I am unfamiliar with... 

What is a butte? 

One person said it is a 'person' who is supposed to take punishment for another person because the person who deserves the punishment can't 'take' the punishment. 

I almost had a fit when I was told this! This is not civilized thinking or behaviour. Only criminals think this way. For over two thousand years, the law has dictated that 'you do the crime, you do time...,' which is a personal responsibility dictum... for anyone who thinks the law is 'a friend,' the law is nobody's friend... it is a last option pressure, usually applied by strangers... brought on by... listen very carefully here... someone who 'set you up' or someone who is punishing people 'privately.'

I wish I hadn't erased ten years of writing, on this blog. I had a really good story about the law, why we need it, and who tends to need it, etcetera. 

People who think they are 'above the law' worry me if they are covering up 'stuff.' For instance, a person who has a very bad way of treating people might hit someone and then say... "Are you going to listen to me?" This old- school rod of iron beastly behaviour is not going to 'wash with me!' Before my divorce, I was in a family, like that... 'beat the hell out of someone...,' cover it up... pseudo apologize... 'beat the hell out of someone...,' cover it up.

My Dad, gone to heaven, was not like that. He was civilized. He didn't beat his wife. Talking things out was normal... especially over the 'dinner table.' We ate together, we talked about the day, sometimes Dad started an argument with Mom, same topic every time... about building another house... and Mom would balk at this because she enjoyed living in the first new house Dad built for us and she didn't want to 'move every year' and create such upheaval in her life.

So, let's talk about how Dad dealt with a problem when a problem arose... he would ask our opinions. I don't mind telling you that the problems I had, that precipitated my personal divorce, were not easy to 'get to the truth' because some people think the outcome of a difficult situation might be better were they to keep very critical things 'private.' There are things I didn't get to know, for ten years after my divorce, that would have caused the end of my marriage much sooner... if only I had been told.

So, I'm reading a book, right now, called, Strengthening your Grip. I'm going to be really honest here. This book is not about 'punishing' another human being. It's about 'getting a handle on life' when things are really hard.

I would like to see 'the truth' shift. I mean this in every way you can imagine. I came up with the acronym 'shift' this year, in my prayer time... 

S... Safety... 

Sh... Safe housing

i... Integrity

f... Food

t... Transportation... (a vehicle)- a safe vehicle where germs are contained; and violence is not present.

I have prayed that, for my children, so many times.

If I had to 'investigate' something I suspected... physical abuse, per se, I would ask for a doctor to examine the person I thought was being victimized. That would be a very easy 'finding' unless they're whacking your head and you have a lot of hair. I had a car rollover, when I was 16 years old, and the concussion and resulting scar from the stitches is under the hair. Like 'pressing on a bruise' to see if it still hurts... I can find that scar, just like that.' That scar is almost 56 years old. 

I could write for another hour on physical scars that become emotional scars... another day, perhaps.

Sufficient to say... if I wasn't told the truth for ten years, or more, think about how many people 'hide the truth' to 'save their skin' instead of having someone challenge 'old school thinking,' resulting in old school behaviour that often sounds like this... "Are you going to obey?" 

   

My Three Sons- Most Important

Most Important... I just called Scott, Tyler, and Jordan. My phones, here, in Dauphin, have been a nightmare.

My greatest concern is for my three sons. 

My move to Dauphin, from Winnipeg, was precipitated by a desire for a late in life relationship so I, Elfrieda, did marry Warren David Justice in the back yard of 225 5th Avenue, N.E. in a private ceremony., 2022.

For people who think about making a drastic change in life... like moving almost four hours away from 'home town' Winnipeg, I caution anyone who imagines that this will be an easy life transition. You can't just walk into a job. It's very difficult to find a new church. As a lifetime church attender, it has been very hard to find a church family.

Here, I have, inch by inch, created a few quilts... hand sewing is therapeutic when I'm stressed out. The first project Warren and Elfrieda made was a 'garden box.' The reason we didn't go straight to building the gazebo... was because Warren does not have a construction background. I was quite worried about that. 

So, I suggested we start with a garden box, in the same style as the one I moved out here from where it was built, 3 Donegal Bay, Mother's Day.

 

This is the garden box when it was still at 3 Donegal Bay, where I was living. I purchased the lumber for all the garden boxes that were built on this property and my son built them for me as a Mother's Day gift.

The 'nonsense' photo, which I thought I would never post, below, is the old Dodge Ram, my dear Bruce owned. He asked me to pose for this silliness 'back when.'

I owned this 2014. It's the truck I had an accident with September 7... in Winnipeg.

So, the garden boxes, the double ones, in size, had to stay at 3 Donegal Bay because they were so large, we couldn't move them.

This address was actually a forced move and I'm sure I'll still be in contact with Restall and Restall, the law firm that has been so lax in calling me back.

I was wondering where my settlement was, for this address, as I invested in the basement renovation... sweat equity as well as a huge amount of my personal monies for the construction materials to 'fix it up.'

This photo was taken on Donegal Bay, at London, in Winnipeg.

Now, back to the projects that I produced, where I currently live.

The garden box that I purchased materials for, at McMunn's, was made in the same style as the garden boxes produced at 3 Donegal Bay. I was really, a little bit upset, at myself for buying the wrong lumber... most people would say... 'as if you can buy wrong lumber!' I had purchased a grade of lumber that was of a stronger and higher quality (see my 2024 photos under 'Gardening'), for the box I moved to Dauphin. I didn't ask for the correct 'thing' when I purchased lumber here. Sometimes, you only notice the difference, in comparison. We went to Canadian Tire, and bought a Dewalt saw and the project proceeded. That was the first outdoor project, completed, at 225 5th Avenue.

The indoor renovations that I started immediately, were very necessary because the 'doggie odour' of those beautiful dogs you saw in a previous story... had created quite an unpleasant smell in the house.

I featured a bare room in the story... 'New Everything.' That was the first room I renovated when I moved to 225. What was new... was the paint and stain and the fresher odour after I was done in that room.

The second, outdoor project, was the gazebo, which you can see in the 2024 stories... 'Spending Time, Gardening.'

I cook in the kitchen, here at 225, but I wouldn't exactly call it 'El's Kitchen' in the way my Pinterest page suggests. At this time, we have decided not to renovate the kitchen... I still have dreams of moving back to Winnipeg.

This was Bruce, shining up his old Imperial at a car show we participated in. 

This is me... sitting in that old relic.

Since my move, one son has visited... the other two I'm still waiting for. They, and their families, are welcome where I live... anytime!

 

Keeping Up

Keeping up... 

There are eight children in my family, that I grew up with. I was born seventh. 

I actually wrote 'The Red Dust Healers' about my life experiences and renamed all eight of us for the novella. My brother John may remember when I was writing it because I visited him, before they built the house they are now in, and he invited my son, and I, to go for a drive because he had to visit a jobsite and pay an employee.

So, I was talking about the novella, I was writing, and I said, "I just haven't put the oldest brother into the novella yet because I'm having a lot of trouble with finding an alternative name for him." (The reason I called my oldest brother, his brother, in that moment, was because they had been business partners since they were in their 20's.)

"Well, John replied, "your novella isn't complete if we aren't all in it."

I felt reasonably chastised and after I returned home, to Winnipeg, I worked hard to find a alternative name for my oldest brother... I finally settled on a name and, if coincidence could yet be called prophecy to the more religiously informed... the name I used for my oldest brother was the middle name of my Bruce, who died. 

When choosing names, for my novel (published) or my novella, (unpublished, as yet), I tried to, somehow, match a name to how I saw them and perceived their strengths and weaknesses. 

The old- fashioned way of naming children, of my parents' generation, was to give us each only one name... that was Biblical. Have you ever noticed that everyone, in the Bible, only has one name?   

I had purchased a very old book, written in 1915, and the mother, in the fictional novel, had named the children with names she was hoping they would live up to. That novel inspired me to come up with names suitable to each personality. You see, the serendipitous maybe of naming a child, at birth, could be a book unto itself. We, parents, name our children for all kinds of reasons... mostly, to inspire a good life... if you're wise. 

A really strange thing started happening after I wrote my novella... nobody knew what I had written, or what names I chose for my family members. I tried to choose names of people whom I had never met. Strangely, in the next 16 years, I met or the news featured some names I had called my brothers and sisters.

You know when you do something, before it happens, it's a creative verve I was working within and nobody can foresee if that might, somehow, become meaningful. 

When I wrote my fictional novel, I put all the appropriate disclaimer on the second page...

"This is a work of fiction. Though some incidents are based on historical record, the work as a whole is the product of the author's imagination and inspiration." Copyright 2013

My novella was a creative writing project but my novel was, as quoted, above, a very difficult and long project... self- published.

The reason I have started writing, on my blog, about my family, is because notoriety has not always been something my parents, now in heaven, would have considered of humble character. Now that they have passed into eternity, I no longer feel the need to hide my talents or refrain from speaking out about the issues of life that really matter to me... human rights... in a world where our rights are so often violated.