The Office of POOFness Weekly Report: An Early Happy Valentine’s Day

” The Office of Poofness “

What the World Needs Now Is Love

In tribute to : Burt Bacharach

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No not just for some, but for everyone
Lord, we don’t need another mountain
There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb
There are oceans and rivers enough to cross
Enough to last ’til the end of time
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No, not just for some, but for everyone
Lord, we don’t need another meadow
There are cornfields and wheatfields enough to grow
There are sunbeams and moonbeams enough to shine
Oh listen, Lord, if you want to know
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No, not just for some, oh, but just for every, every, everyone

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POOF SAID

Greetings and Salutations,

We are awaiting further word from a number of reliable types to provide anything further to assist you in making clear the matters at hand.

We are on top of this but not privy to the chatter behind closed doors.

Get the show on the road some say; others say forget it they’ll give up soon; others wish to get their funds out and just forget about it all together. . Of course all want it over and done with!!!!

Just sit back and watch the show that is on going; be willing to be patient a while longer and to make the best of it.. Those who control the strings know what they are doing and it is best to just leave that part completely to them.

We don’t think we are that far off the mark on any of this. We keep a running tally on who is where and what they might be up to but of course no one is willing to talk out of turn. We don’t have the argument any longer whether it will or won’t happen…. It Will… But Timing Is Now Everything…….

Love and Kisses,

Poof

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SUSAN SAYS

An Inspirational Story of Love by Catherine Moore

‘Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!’ My father yelled at me.

‘Can’t you do anything right?’

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly

man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my

throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another batt’I saw the car, Dad. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.’

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces on nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested this prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it.

He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger maFour days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into operating room. He was lucky; he survived . But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory.

He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out a pastor to set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, ‘I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.’ I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. High hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly I pointed to the dog. ‘Can you tell me about him?’ The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. ‘He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.’ He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. ‘You mean you’re going to kill him? ‘Ma’am,’ he said gently, ‘that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.’ I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. ‘I’ll take him,’ I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.

When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!’ I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. ‘If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it’ Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. ‘You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!’ Dad ignored me. ‘Did you hear me, Dad?’ I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne.

Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend . Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.

Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room . Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favourite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church.

The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. ‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.’I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,’ he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article. Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm

acceptance and complete devotion to my father and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers

after all. Life is too short for drama and petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every

opportunity.

Author Unknown

“PP” Prosperity Programs:

The information hasn’t changed since last week…Stay Alert…

Namaste’

Susan

HI ALL

THERE IS GOOD NEWS AFOOT IN THE FINANCIAL SYSTEMS THAT ARE COMING ONLINE TO PROGRESS THE MOVEMENT OF FUNDS CROSS-BORDER. TACTICAL ELEMENTS OF THIS ACTION INCLUDE INTEGRATION OF CURRENT SYSTEMS, WITH THE GOAL OF PROVIDING SECURE AND PAINLESS MOVEMENT UNTIL THE NEW SYSTEMS ESSENTIALLY TAKE OVER ALL FUNCTIONS OF PREVIOUS SYSTEMS, AND BY DOING THIS, MANAGE TO CONTROL MONEY LAUNDERING WHICH IS THE NORM THESE DAYS AND SPLATTERED ALL OVER THE DAILY NEWS. THE [redacted] MONEY LAUNDERING INVESTIGATIONS ARE MASSIVE NOW. I DO NOT THINK THEY WILL SURVIVE SUCH SCRUTINY AND BE EXPOSED AS WELL.

THE NEW SYSTEMS WILL WORK WELL FOR THE PROJECT SIDE OF COURSE, BUT THE QUESTION OF SAFEGUARDS OF THESE NEW SYSTEMS IS STILL IN THE EARLY STAGES, AND WILL OF NEEDS TAKE SOME TIME TO DO. THIS TIMELINE IS A SHORT ONE FROM ALL THE INTEL, AND IT MAKES SENSE WHEN YOU PUT THE PUZZLE PIECES TOGETHER.

THESE EXPERIENCES WE ARE GOING THROUGH BODE WELL FOR THE RAISING OF A LOT OF CONSCIOUSNESS’S. WE ARE WHO WE ARE FOR A REASON, AND THIS REASON SEEMS TO BOIL DOWN TO THE CONCEPT OF EXPERIENCE. THAT IS ALL IT IS AND PRETTY SIMPLE.

ONE AUTHOR PEGGED IT IN ONE OF HIS BOOKS. THIS IS WHERE HE INTRODUCED THE CONCEPT OF “GROK” AS IN GROKING SOMETHING OR ALTERNATIVELY PUT, UNDERSTANDING SOMETHING TO ITS DETAILS; SEE STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND BY ROBERT A HEINLEIN.

IS THIS THE WOKEN VERSION OF THE WOKE MANIFESTO?

THE COMEDIES OF THE “WOKE” MOVEMENT ARE QUITE EXTRAORDINARY AND QUITE SELF ABSORBED. THAT PARTICULAR INFLUENCE HAS HAMPERED MANY EFFORTS TO GET TO THE WORK AHEAD. FORTUNATELY THE WOKE THING IS GOING AWAY IN FAVOR OF SANER THINKING.

THIS IS CRITICAL AS THE AMOUNT OF WORK REQUIRED TO PERFORM THIS RECONSTRUCTION PHASE OF THE PLAN IS VERY LARGE, AND WILL REQUIRE THE MAJORITY OF THE TIME AHEAD. GETTING BOGGED DOWN IN WOKE THINGS IS NOT A GOOD THING AND TO BE AVOIDED. BIG WASTE OF TIME.

ALTHOUGH THIS CIRCUS PROVIDES MUCH AMUSEMENT TO MANY, IT HAS ONLY A FINITE AMOUNT OF USEFUL TIME IN WHICH TO OPERATE. AS ALL SUCH MACHINATIONS, IT HAS ITS BEGINNING AND HAS ITS END. THIS EVIDENCES CAUSALITY IN RAW FORM AND WHEN THE TIME IS UP FOR THAT PROCESS, A REPLACEMENT PROCESS TO FILL THE VACUUM HAS TO REPLACE IT. WE ARE SEEING THIS TRANSPIRE NOW, AND RESULTS ARE BEING SEEN ALL OVER THE GLOBE AS THESE CHANGES TAKE EFFECT. SINCE THE WAR OF “PLANDEMIC” HAS CAUSED SUCH GREAT HARM, THE RECONSTRUCTION OF SYSTEMS AND RESOURCES AND SUPPLY CHAINS NEED ADDRESSING RIGHT AWAY. NEW THINGS HAVE TO BE MANUFACTURED TO REMEDIATE AND BUILD ANEW AND OLD TECH RETIRED.

THE ETHICS OF SUCH OPERATIONS ARE OF THE HIGHEST INTEGRITY SO WE CAN EXPECT VERY GREAT CHANGES WHEN THESE FORCES ARE EFFECTED SHORTLY. THE INEVITABILITY IS CERTAIN NOW AND MIRRORED IN ALL NEWS FEEDS AS THE CONTINUOUS STREAMS OF FINANCIAL NEWS ARE STEADY WITH MORE AND MORE CHANGES EVERY DAY. WE ARE SEEING THIS PROGRESS IN REAL TIME. IT CORROBORATES EVERYTHING THAT WAS FORETOLD BY MANY MANY YEARS AGO. HERE IS THE CURRENT SAMPLING OF THE FINANCIAL PART OF THE MOVIE.