Heart Centered Psychic

Wonderance and Preponderance

2012-01-26T00:04:00.000-06:00

Everyone wonders from time to time....

What would I do if I were wealthy beyond my wildest dreams?

What if I had all of the money in the vast global community?

What would I had vast amounts of financial wealth?

What would I buy?

How would I spend it?

How would I protect it?

Can I invest it and how would I invest it?

Will people still love me for who I am and not what I am?

How will I know who truly cares about me?

How will I protect myself and my family?

What happens if all my wealth disappears?

For some? They already wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. There are many, in fact. I won't start mentioning names. I'll allow you; the reader... to make your own decisions based on your conclusions, research, and criteria. Suffice it to say; there are royalty, stars of the stage and screen, musicians, artists, captains of industry, entrepreneurs, technology gurus, as well as those who come from a long line of familial financial wealth.

Many have all of the finest that money can buy. Multiple homes, stables of expensive collector cars, private jets, yachts, designer label clothing, travels to exotic destinations; and more.

In case you're wondering; and you know you are... I have vast amounts of wealth. Shhh!! You mustn't speak a word of this; as I'm quite certain you won't. Yet; I have none of the above.

It's true. You see; everything is relative and has to do with perception and one's perspective. What one has or doesn't. For many globally to have food, water, and shelter or even one of those would make that one rich beyond imagination. For many: Freedom. Peace. Hope. Love. Acceptance.

So while I consider myself wealthy beyond my wildest dreams and have had it suggested many times I could be financially wealthy. I AM wealthy. I am not world famous. My husband and I have a very moderate home in a smaller community where it snows; so I have a winter vehicle and a small summer car, and I travel a few times a year. Three more marks added to the wealth pile. I'm healthy; as are our families. I have wonderful friends near and far; those I've met and those I've yet to meet. I am wealthy of heart as I am allowed to give guidance and clarity to others; near and far. And much, much more.

But if I TRULY had vast amounts of financial wealth I've always known what I would do with it. Things would pretty much remain the status quo; although perhaps a small vacation place somewhere.

I would hire an assistant to help with my one woman show; or at least someone to spit-polish the house now and again. Perhaps someone to play hockey with the little ones. I could do more travel to see family, volunteer more as I used to; and give more to help others around the globe continue humanitarian efforts.

Perhaps, I might even find time to work on a book or eight. Then I could not only help others as I am now; but I could see more of the global community and help humanitarian efforts in person; as well as help more generously; yet quietly. I could enlighten. We could travel more and I do what I came into this world to do. Teaching others, proving there is more than what we believe to be normal.

Just as those I mentioned who have financial wealth beyond their wildest dreams. They may not broadcast it to the world. But they so silently help and give hope; many quietly, privately.

Making loving attempts to provide a better world a better for all.

It's true money can't buy happiness; nor can it buy you love.

So what would you do if had all the money in the world and how would you use it?

My Grown Up Christmas List

2011-12-13T11:29:00.000-06:00

I had every intention of blogging today; but about something completely different. Then? I read something I found disturbing from someone I follow on Twitter. As I look at my statistics; I notice there is a trend. The trend is that people in Russia, China, Korea, Iran, and other countries are finding this blog. Perhaps there is a reason. I truly hope so. The reason is the following:

If I had a wish list for the holiday season it would be this:

I wish that we would all learn from our past mistakes.

I wish there would be no more war.

I wish there would be global peace.

I wish we could all get along as a global society.

I wish there would be no more judgement.

I wish for world peace. That each and every one of you who reads this?

Find a little piece of peace in your heart for all mankind.

Lovingly and Peacefully yours,

Heart Centered Psychic

What Would Nate Berkus Do?

2011-11-29T09:07:00.021-06:00

* PLEASE NOTE: This post was scheduled to be posted at 7:11 EST; yet due to the fact Blogger is having a bit of a hissy fit: it did not post. My sincerest apologies; to all 44 followers, along with my 97 fans! Along with all of my other tiny, well hidden blogs, photos, site content, I please ask that you borrow. Please don't take away from those who take from others? Thanks!!

I have said both privately and publicly that I am no Martha Stewart. I have the utmost respect for her, don't get me wrong; but her skills are far beyond my abilities when it comes to pretty much everything. As Martha might say, "this is not a good thing."

On the other hand; I am also not a "crafty" person. I have loads of vision, people. Tons, in fact; but pulling all together? HA! OK, I will admit I have been known to pillage the humble abode for rarely seen artifacts. At which point I'll blow the dust and cobwebs from them and toss them in a place they've yet to be seen. And I've been know to throw a very small, intimate dinner together. One year I was even so bold as to entertain a holiday dinner party for eight; and yes, I even cooked the meal. Since it has been a while I decided it would be nice to do it again this past Thanksgiving.

Two days prior to the designated day for fowl feasting, I still didn't have enough of anything for six people. When I say anything? I mean it. Serving bowls? Forget it. Flatware? Forget it. Glassware, forget it. Centerpiece? WHAT????

Since I had been pillaging and foraging beforehand I knew it was time to head out shopping. Have I mentioned I am not a shopper, either? Oh, I could hang out in antique malls and such for days on end. But getting me into a mall is much like pulling teeth. Since I generally prefer to shop from locally owned/operated businesses this could pose a problem. So I prepared a list and began to channel my inner "Nate." Then with a deep breath I darted out to a big box store.

Fresh turkey (thereby allowing me to toss frozen back into freezer)... check!
Drinks...check!
Flatware; elegant yet for daily use...check!
Serving bowl sets with lids...check!
Glassware; elegant, looks like crystal but can be tossed in the dishwasher...check!
Cutting boards to double as trivets or serving trays...check!
Placemats...check!
Plethora of beautiful candle holders...check!
Floral Centerpiece...check!
Items to enhance centerpiece...check!
Containers for guest to take home left overs...check!

The list continues, but you get the general idea. An entire, overly full cart of items and for far less than you'd ever dream possible. I was also in and out of there in just under an hour. That's right. Two days before a National Holiday; I am shopping clearance aisles and pulling it all together. I decided why pay thirty dollars for a centerpiece when I can make one? The one in the picture was just under fifteen dollars for the entire tablescape, with the added bonus of real plants.

In the checkout line; the elegant woman behind me in line at the register paid me such a wonderful compliment when she said what a lovely hostess I was and how beautifully set would be the table. I was deeply flattered by such a graciously kind word; all things considered.

The table setting was indeed lovely and eclectic and included my great grandmother's china plates. I had considered unpacking serving items and gravy boats; but that fell by the wayside. There were a few glitches that morning; such as the disposal clogging, meeting family at the door with my hair in a towel. But dinner was only fifteen minutes late and we had a wonderful time.

The turkey? Received rave reviews by the way; so perhaps, there is a little Martha inside after all.

Thank you, Nate; you're my hero and I apologize I had no time to go antiquing beforehand; perhaps next holiday. Not Christmas, though; as I have loads already to rummage through and pillage!

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

Totally Devastated

2011-11-18T05:06:00.001-06:00

Devastated. I am completely and totally devastated; brought to my knees filled with sympathy, empathy, compassion. All the while I am but a tiny speck in the larger scheme of whatever you consider yourself to be; regardless of how others may perceive you.

We had also discussed briefly other things; which I will not discuss here; for that; my readers? Is not what this blog is about. This blog? Is about the devastation....

You see? I was up listening to the weather. Oh; no, no, no! Not the weather you perceive. I was sensing the fluctuations and instabilities of atmospheric conditions. Sensitives: are well sensitive.

If you have ever been witness to the devastation a tornado can cause, not once but many times; you would certainly understand.

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. I know of at least one a tornado that did just that.

I remember clambering down into a creepy, crawly, place under a house. I have very vivid memories of watching three tornadoes merge into one many miles away. The debris begins to fly. You see it. You see it scattered to the winds. The wind calms before the storm. You witness and sense the eerie stillness and watch the sky go an odd yellowish green.

As I was awakened (yes, it happens!) I checked in on Twitter Yet; not busy enough to sense the pressure changing and the instability. I made what was meant to be a paranormal as well as humorous comment. I wish I had not done that and if I could take it back; I would.

For you see...I absolutely NO idea of the devastation wrought by tornadoes and severe weather across the South. I cried not for myself and certainly not for my memories; but for others. My hands are still shaky as I type this, as a matter of fact.

Lives were lost, homes were lost, possessions were scattered to who knows where. Unless you have seen the aftermath of such devastation it is well beyond anything you could fathom.

That said; I ask that give as you are led, in whatever way you are led. Even if it's a spare shirt and can of soup. I can assure you; it is but a small difference.

Imagine what if everyone did this today and every day.

I know I will help. As stealthy as the storm that perhaps crept in silent stormy feet in some remote ares. All the while as the debris of all kinds that may or not be found.

Never think for one single thought, "That could never happen to me or my family." I assure you it can. I know for a fact.

To those left to pick up the pieces on a variety of levels; I am there with you, yet not.

Peace, Love, Blessings of healing prayers.

Day of the Dead

2011-11-02T10:35:00.000-05:00

Last month I promised that as it was October; and therefore all about the spooky, I write true life spooky posts. I did write two and received responses on each despite the fact I hadn't the chance to do much with blogging and linking on sites,much to my dismay. So to those who posted comments thank you! I didn't get to writing my last post because I happened to be out of town; and by the time I returned Sunday, unpacked, and settled in, time has slipped away.

So where was I? At yet another one of my favorite haunting grounds. I was in Texas to visit family; although I did find a few places I'm 'dying' to investigate a bit more next time I'm in the area. I always feel badly when I stay that long because having once lived in a location where friends and family all want to come visit during the summer months due to the beaches; I remember how it was. I'm sure they were exhausted and happy to get back to the regular routine when I hugged them goodbye!

Here are two frightening photos taken during my travels. Not for the faint of heart!

I'm sure this child will never grow up to be Norman Bates; but the mom's face? GREAT!!

THE best costume I've ever seen; the wings are hydraulic and can be raised and lowered at will.

I hope everyone had a fantastic and safe "All Hallow's Eve," "All Saint's Day," and to all...

Today would be a lovely day to visit your loved one's remains, remember them and honor them. After all, it is also a holiday..."Day of the Dead."

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

Old Haunting Ground: Part 2

2011-10-14T12:50:00.001-05:00

As I mentioned in my previous post; as well as the background post; just as promised; October is all about the spooky. Things that go bump in the night, Scary stories to tell around the bonfire, campfires, and so forth.

Besides, I promised this month I was all about true life paranormal stories. Matter of fact: all of my stories are true. Oh, I would imagine you believe I'm making it all up. That's not the true; so journey on my friends. Enter at your own risk. Journey on and beyond; should you dare.

Just in case you're new here; you may wish to, at mininum have a look at the bare bones of this story. Should you choose not to; don't say you weren't warned.

Yes; indeed. I did in fact grew up and played in the cemetery as I'd mentioned in my last post. There weren't a lot of children when we moved in and for some reason I always ended up in that cemetery. Adjacent to the old graveyard stood a cornfield and every winter the field became my ice rink. Autumn would come and the corn would brown and dry. Shortly thereafter the harvest would begin; the rumble of the tractor and grain truck as; row by row the corn disappeared. Then the turning of the dark, fertile soil began.

Before long; the brisk air of autumn turned into the biting chill of winter. That's when the barren field held its appeal. The only thing to draw me out of the warmth of the house was the barren field that would freeze over with my own personal ice rink. There stood in the middle of the field the most perfect depression. One that would fill with water or melted snow; only to freeze and refreeze. During particularly cold and snowy winters; the rink held nearly all season. It was only recently I learned the truth about my personal rink and the field that surrounded it.

The depression was where an old church and home stood. Back during the early part of the century and long before "my tree" was struck; a different tree was struck by lightening. One that caught both buildings on fire and burnt them to the ground. I've not researched enough yet to know whether or not anyone died in the fire, but old news clippings do not mention any associated deaths. So one might find comfort in the fact I wasn't actually gliding across bodies; only the site of a tragic fire.

Many years ago, the field was sold off in order for a subdivision to be built. Apparently; prior to any work beginning, the area had to be reviewed with high tech equipment. This because not only were the buildings located in the vicinity of the field; but old remains were still under the soil. In order to begin work on homes, all remaining graves would need moved. It is my understanding that several remains were indeed found and relocated to my old haunt. Perhaps, that's why it felt so differently from my childhood. Homes now dot the field where the church burned and the graves were secret for decades.

I've noticed the times I've been by there; the number of homes on the market. I often wondered if it was due to the economy. Or if perhaps if families are more transient these days, due to job or family situations.

Now? I am beginning to wonder if there may be another reason; one that no one is willing to talk about.

Old Haunting Ground

2011-10-06T23:00:00.002-05:00

For the past few years, one weekend a year, a group of friends get together for an annual visit. One way or another, planned or not; that visit always seems includes a visit to some cemetery. This year proved to be no different.

Long ago I blogged about the fact I grew up across from a cemetery. It was my playground as a child. Many a day were spent eating a sandwich underneath the large, shady tree and walking amongst the headstones while feeling the cool, carved granite or rough, lichen covered stones underneath my fingertips. I never thought to read what most of them said. Some were so old they were not discernible. The past few years I've driven past the cemetery and have noticed "my tree" is gone. It was damaged by lightning years ago; during my youth and died a slow death. My hedgerow no longer stands. I've not been inside since my childhood. In fact; I went many a year without having seen it at all.

This year a friend and I wandered back into to my old haunt. As we walked around the little drive; we headed off the beaten path. The place has changed much. One expects it to be smaller but other things were different, as well; such as the foundations that were beginning to crumble due to decades of the earth's freeze and thaw. We wandered aimlessly among the headstones noticing family names we remember from our youth. Eventually; we meandered to an area I always seemed drawn to; and were noticing some of the dates. It was once of my most frequented areas. Some may say it has something to do with my Irish heritage, or perhaps something more. Regardless; many of the stones I were most drawn to dated back to the 1800's; and most were from Ireland. The remains of the immigrants were certainly a long way from Tipperary; and judging from the those still readable, the lives lead weren't easy ones.

As we continued on, talking as we walked; I sensed something was different. I mentioned to my friend, also familiar with the graveyard, although not as much as I; that graves had been moved. It felt distinctly different feel from my youth. The energy was not as I remembered it to be. We continued our walk about; and I gazed over to the area longingly where I used to ice skate in the winter.

I remember the area quite clearly and when the weather was perfect the same spot would freeze over with a layer of ice the perfect size for my own private ice rink; almost as if it were custom made for just such a thing. If there was snow I would bundle up, trek through the turned field with shovel and/or broom in hand and clear the ice. Shortly thereafter; I would sit down, place my skates upon my feet, lace up, and skate in the pristine silence. While I've always preferred weather to the frigid cold and never excelled at sports, I did love to figure skate. I would stay until my ears, nose and toes were beyond numb before heading home. On the perfect day; the sun would shine and the wind would be nonexistent just enough to melt a skim of ice so that after a cold night, there would be a clean, perfect layer of new ice to glide and spin across.

Shortly thereafter; I had a conversation with someone I know quite well that I had revisited some old haunts; namely my childhood cemetery and the fact I felt graves had been moved. At this point; what I had sensed was confirmed.

To be continued...

ˇThe HORROR!!'

2011-09-26T14:14:00.000-05:00

I had fully intended to post about this weekend and the lovely people that kept me so busy; for which I am so grateful. There was a comment theme in each reading; incidentally. So I know exactly how my gifting will be silently paid forward to the ones who are most in need.

Instead; I am hearing a dog wretching beneath my chair. I have checked. It does not appear to be pea green; nor has dog as of yet levitated. However; I shall keep you updated if need be. As I certain this dog is truly a spoiled rotten blonde bitch? I find it highly unlikely the only one in any danger is myself...

I shall need to now need to clean up said spewage. Again...

OHHH! THE HORROR!

Silence

2011-09-18T13:11:00.000-05:00

I had planned an entirely different post for today; a continuation of the last posting about homecoming. In fact, I had considered no post at all.

I've decided that due to all of the tragedy worldwide; I ask that you honor those who will not go home. Those who have no home. I ask that you remember there are those who are grieving; both fresh loss and past losses.
I would ask you respect each other despite differences and find within yourself to learn tolerance, love, and an end to hate and violence.

My wish is everyone around the globe to take time today and every day.

We are all part of humanity.
We are ONE in spite of our differences.
We all love.

Most of all... we ALL grieve because we love. We all suffer loss.

Therefore; I am observing silence. Remembering all of humanity and all who grieve. My thoughts are with each and every one of you. I wish you Peace.

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

Cannonfire!

2011-09-17T11:11:00.000-05:00

The shot heard round the world has to do with some of my oldest and dearest friends. Friends I've loved, grown up with, apart from, well; you get the idea. At least? I hope you so. At any rate:

As Paul Harvey who's deceased would say: And now for the rest of the story....

People come into and go out of your life for a reason. What matters? Connections. Helping. Assisting and healing in what ways I am able. It took me years; quite literally many years to emerge from my closet. My spiritual closet....

I'm not competitive. My purpose is to assist quietly. And have a bit of fun at the same time. Because let's face it. It took me quite a while to quite literally assist others publicly. The friend-on-stick? This weekend fired the first round. The shout heard around the world and all across the universe. It was homecoming weekend. One of our dear friends was unable to be present this year. I've assisted her in before in various ways; or at least attempted to do so. This year; I assisted her by carrying a photo of her head on a stick. Because that's what friends are for, right?

Yet? We are all different. This is not "bad" by any means. WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT. UNIQUE!!

So? To my 44 Follows: Yep. 44.....

She fired off the first round. A photo of her head on a stick and all dolled up; along with others from years past. So sad we missed you. We understand why you were unable to attend. Sorrowfully; you weren't here...the one that was unable to make it. We missed you. We all love you....

We are planning on withholding "evidence" until the end. Let's face it. We're want cash; preferably in unmarked bills. You missed a fabulous time; and the only one drinking? You!! (Besides; you not only missed on the spot mini-readings? You were nearly naked, drunken driving us home! Thank goodness, you weren't wearing your tin foil hat.)

We. LOVE. You... my oldest and dearest friend.

LOVE,

Heart Centered Psychic

PS: You should SEE the pics we took! Hee Hee!!

Summer's Ending

2011-09-13T15:16:00.002-05:00

Vacation is officially over...

Children have returned to school, some of the leaves are tinged with autumnal coloring, and there's a nip in the early morning air that is beginning to remind me of fall. So vacation is officially over; in more ways than one.

I've been keeping up with my blog reading; but haven't posted in some time. I always enjoyed reading more than writing; so while that comes as no surprise to me, some may have wondered where I've been. Here's a recap:

I've been keeping up with the rest of you; albeit sans comments.
I've given the blog a mini-makeover. I freely admit it took me literally months to overcome my trepidation. I've started several times then horrible thoughts of "What if I do and it looked better before?" flit through my head. At which point I sprout feathers and chicken out at the last minute. I'm not finished yet; it's still a work in progress.
Spent a long weekend in July with two of my oldest and dearest friends. Women I've known since the age of five and six. This included road trip with two friends, much food, music, talk, relaxation, and so much more. Nearly one year to the day when I helped introduce our hostess to her very first concert; Paul McCartney, no less.
A less extended weekend with one of these friends and her family. Again; a fabulous weekend...primarily due to the fact that I have fabulous friends. Never underestimate the power of friendships, by the way; especially those you meet when you're growing up.
I've celebrated a 50th anniversary with family member and helped to throw in a few special touches. Nothing earth shatteringly expensive, mind you. Yet; for anyone who knows me personally? Party planning is not my forte; I am no Martha Stewart, so to actually pull off the touches I did was no small feat.
There have been a few birthdays, other anniversaries, and assorted other special dates I've remembered and acknowledged; both joyful and sorrowful.
My general, daily life has continued.
I have read more books than I can begin to count. I love to read, as I've mentioned numerous times.
My husband spent two weeks in the Outer Banks of North Carolina without any internet connectivity. There's nothing like sea breezes, the warmth of the sun, and the rhythmic sounds of the waves to relax one and rejuvinate the spirit. So does getting the chance to catch up with some I know there, as well.

But alas... Vacation is officially over (except in blog form) and summer is coming to an end. But autumn is just around the corner; and it's a lovely time of year, as well.

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

Emotional Door Slamming

2011-07-20T23:10:00.000-05:00

Just recently; I was looking through my Twitter stream and saw a mention about that movie Chucky It was a horror movie about a doll that went on the rampage and killing spree. Shortly after; this person mentioned a new doll that is even scarier than Chucky. Apparently, there is now a breastfeeding doll for children that has parents and others are all lathered up over the whole idea. So, you just know I had to check the link.

Of course; with my sense of humor combined with hers? The blue birds of Twitterland were flying back and forth. I admitted that doll was far more frightening than Chuckie, at which point she asked "What if Chuckie wanted to breastfeed?" Of course, I had to reply that one would lose body parts. Of course the conversation lead to the TV movie in 1975 named Trilogy of Terror. It starred little known talents such as Karen Black and Gregory Harrison. Yes, that's right. Famous talent and would be talents in bad made for TV movies! Love that! Apparently, it has gone on to become a cult classic. Who knew??

I remember seeing the movie as a child on the black and white television, and that tiny Zuni doll with the spear freaked me out; especially when he got a hold of the kitchen knives. Then there were the doors, and the knives; and the doors and knives combined. Then there was the doll tossed into the oven. I had no idea what that movie was about. I was young.

So the tweets escalated to how I am now scarred for life and fear doors; asked whether or not plastic surgeons could fix emotional door scars. Of course; we were being funny. Later in the evening; the conversation began again. Apparently; plastic surgeons do not have the capacity to fix emotional scars.

Thus; the conversation swerved and took on a far deeper meaning. It became one about scarring of all sorts. Not the physical scars one suffers from; but the emotional scars. How words can cut to the bone and yet; the wound may never heal. How children can be so very cruel to each other. How they are vulnerable and can carry this through an entire lifetime in some cases. Some can let it go; yet others? For them it's not nearly so easy.

I was once a little girl. A little girl who wore glasses with lens nearly as thick as those old glass Coca-Cola bottles. A tiny little girl with limp, lank hair. A small child that others thought ugly. A child that was considered odd despite her best attempts to hide herself and who she truly was. All for fear of being called a freak; because she was different and saw things others did not.

A child that as she continued to grow wished how she could paint herself beige and blend into the school walls so that no one would notice and make fun of her. She was wearing contacts by then; yet she remembered those harsh, taunting words of others. She still remembers the way other children made fun of the small chubby boy with the amazing sense of humor. She remembers how the child who wore a prosthetic arm was called names. She remembers the quiet, shy girl who withdrew within herself and was afraid to speak to anyone. She remembers them all and many more. She remembers them all. She saw the inner goodness that each of them held within themselves and felt for each and every one of them.

She knows they must certainly all be wonderful adults; despite the emotional scars they bear from their past.

And this little girl? Is now an adult who has slammed and locked the door to the emotional scars. For she is a grown woman. Her eyesight is now corrected. She no longer has to wear those contacts in order to see; because her eyesight was so bad she was considered legally blind without them. She owns her uniqueness, her 'ugliness' as well as her inner beauty. She owns all that she is and no longer hides behind herself. She allows her freak flag to fly; and does so proudly. She is comfortable with herself.

Some things are better left behind. Some scars simply just aren't worth carrying.

One lesson to be learned from scars; they lead to empathy for others. Perhaps this is why so many I know who have been taunted, teased, called names, and have suffered the pain; feel their scars so deeply. Many are some of the most kind, caring, compassionate, and amazing people I know.

If you've suffered emotional door scarring, I'd love to hear from you. Tell me your story, won't you?

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

AwardShow Wednesday Circles

2011-07-13T15:11:00.000-05:00

I had so wished to have completed honoring all of the blogs; no matter if it's humor, spiritual, paranormal, or parenting. I apologize if you feel as though this as another teaser. I assure that it is not.

You see; I nearly had my blog ready to go this morning for posting. All ready except for one thing. One tiny detail that has fallen though the cracks. As I was reading through many of my favorites; older and newer. I recognized a common theme which is that this spring and summer seems to have blogging at a virtual standstill.

I saw so many with health concerns, work commitments, personal obligations, professional obligations; illness and death within the family both immediate and distant. Summer travel plans, being with family where ever family may be; near and far. Posting has been a problem for many; including myself. Many are simply taking time off for a bit. I understand this, as I do this myself.

Do you see the common theme? Do you recognize it as I do? Perhaps you do and perhaps not.

I understand I'm not the world's most wonderful blogger or commenter. I understand you need to leave comments to receive comments. I do try. Nevertheless; for now there will be a slight delay in the Award Show while the stars prepare to walk down the red carpet, as they wave to prepare to the paparazzi, wave to the adoring fans, and finally are escorted to his or her respective seats. And once the house lights have dimmed?

The Awards will be presented.
Award winners?
There will be no catwalk. But go ahead; strut your stuff!
Because you're all models, you know what I mean?
If not ask Right Said Fred!

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

Wait For It...!

2011-07-03T01:51:00.000-05:00

Yes, dear readers; it's true.

I have fallen, fallen far behind on blogging. Now that I have devices that may or may not work; depending on their mood swings... I will get caught up on all of your blogs. In fact, some I already have!

In addition to catching up, I have ever so quietly watched you. Also, I have awards to pass along; many, in fact. I had thought I might do presentations today. But, in light of the fact many are off this weekend and perhaps traveling? I have made the executive decision to wait; thus giving a few more days to secretly stalk more of your blogs!

That having been said; you may want to keep an eye open, or two, and possibly three; later about mid-week. There are so many amazing bloggers that I may even create a few new categories of my own!

Stay tuned...

Love,
Heart Centered Psychic

FreakySilly Saturday

2011-06-23T00:46:00.001-05:00

Yes... dear readers;

I am far behind the 8 ball on well...all of you blogs. I did consult with my vintage magic 8 ball a hilarious friend; I worked with years ago. It told me I would be all caught up within a day;

I happen to love vintage things, by the way. Almost as I love her; until she murdered my sea monkeys she gave to me.

Therefore, I could place blame on her. I won't though; as I still have the beautiful little handmade teddy bear, beautiful box with preserved flowers on top, and a georgeous not inside. She also gave me a tiny disco ball keychain...along with a Disco CD. Maybe even two! Simply close the office door, to the office, shine a tiny flashlight on rotating disco ball while dancing? Voila! The stress disappears!

I shall have to consult with the 8 ball to see if I still have them. Or simply go look at them and dance as I listen.

Thanks, Amy. And no; there are no dirty dishes in my car. Nor killer bees, for that matter! *wink*

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

Men, Rats, Cats, and Coasters

2011-06-18T21:43:00.000-05:00

It was said by an extremely famous author that included "the best laid plans of mice and men..."

Perhaps; you've heard of Ernest Hemingway in For Whom Bell Tolls. It originally belonged to Robert Burns' in a line of poetry. Burns is well celebrated each and every year in Scotland. I even had haggis; yes, the real thing. The one time we traveled to the UK.

"Didna think me had stomach fer it, aye?" That, is not translated. I can hear it, understand it, as well as converse. From London to Edinburgh. Then I heard it.

There are so many more authors I could quote. So very many more; in fact. Someday. But not now; for you see a brief glimpse into my life:

You see; I still need to send my grandsons' 2nd birthday gift. I won't be there this year. Yet, we can't be here, there and everywhere. My husband had intensive, major foot surgery; and it was six weeks off work, end of discussion; or he risked even more surgery with longer recovery.

I have been turning away appointments; phone and longstanding clients.
Missed not one; yet two with the potential to help others at Holistic and or Psychic Fairs.
I gave up the computer and the TV once he was allowed to move around. I didn't mine a whit.
So I could care for house, hearth, home, pets, run errands, and so very much more.
So my husband, could recuperate from major surgery. So he would stay off his foot.
The pin was remove from his toe just short of two weeks ago; he returned to work just this week.
I did everything I could to make sure he would not violate doctors orders; as the next surgery be far worse.

I love him. So very much. I love and care for ALL my friends and family; including my global family.

Each of you. All of you. Where ever you are. I have compassion and smiles and wish you all a wonderful life, as well a wondrous life! EVERYTHING!!! While attempting to get caught up:

Here is what has happened. I am not asking for anything other than understanding; and perhaps a cyber hug; perhaps, along maybe a smile? Why? So happy you asked!

Consider this a wee bit of A day in MY life. OH BOY... best to prepare. Here goes:

Grieved with friends about loss of a close family member
Dealt with the animals for approximately; OK I have lost count. HONEST!
Cried tears of joy with a friend over a new grand baby.
Cried privately about not one; yet two stubborn men!
Contact with long-standing client referral; who's no longer interested, which I'm OK with. Perhaps one day. If not; I understand. This isn't the first time, and I am certain it will not be the last.
Lost an opportunities for media exposure.
Laughed until I've cried and vice versa!
Had hockey dog? Rat out cat-like dog... for house poo. Cleaned that up and tossed her outside so I could clean. Ran out to see where and what hockey dog was up to; was up to as I scooped up rat-cat-dog to toss into kennel.
Given loving, glares and eye rolls to small badger diggers; as I dig/rinse dirt out of larger dirt digging badger digging dog who tells on tiny rat/cat/dog. The larger is prone to this, by the way.
Am now to about 150 unread emails.
Stomped. I don't stomp. Really. Although, I did rip the crown out my head and stamp the diamond out. Not to worry! The come in party packs. Besides, my head is tin Plenty more where they came from and I have plenty!
Am reverting to the teen years and if I could toss my locks, reply sarcastically with the teenage affect, "Uhhh! WHATEVER while rolling the eyes, stomp out of the room, and slam the door? I just might.
Dealt with much door slamming, past several hours. It's the dogs. I am quite certain. Beloved wasn't home.
Let my readers, along with Facebook Fans down; yet again. Along with again not keeping abreast with Heart Centered Psychic on Twitter.
Ridden the Roller Coaster of Love. Love encompasses all.

This? In less than twenty fours hours. People wonder why I don't have time. I've mentioned it before; and will say it again. I don't have an assistant, maid, travel agent, or any thing else. People may think I am new at this; I assure you with all my heart? No so.

My luxury? A 15USD manicure; about every 2-3 weeks; maybe. This and a haircut as I slink in with bangs I have hacked away. Three times.

No facials, no massage; I give and give wholeheartedly with a smile; in more ways than you realize.

I saw a post on Twitter today:

It asked a question to the effect: What if you do anything? Anything at all. What would it be? That used to be a simple one to answer and generally it is. Not today.

Today? I would not be selfless; but selfish. Not for myself; yet for others. Especially? My husband. So he wouldn't worry about my selflessness and my giving. Don't mistake me; he is a loving, caring one himself. Why I love him. Dearly.

Shamefully, with head hung low, eyes downcast...I would wish for independent wealth. So we could travel, help others, see the world. Visit family and friends, as well.

I would wish to travel abroad and teach others in many ways. Healing work, paranormal work, reading and teaching. Learning, networking, and oh; so much more.

Again? I hang my head in shame and cry. This time it is for my personal selfishness; which I don't want my beloved to witness. I know how he will want a hug and kiss. I need to dry my tears, wipe my nose, shower and hopefully brush my teeth. He'll kiss me on the cheek; not that it matters.

He loves, accepts me for me: JUST me.

Which? Is why one day, we'll make it back to the UK and more.

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

Thirsty Thursday!

2011-05-19T05:19:00.000-05:00

Dearest Readers;

My apologies; as I have been out of touch since my last blog, tweet, and so forth. You see; as of my last blog "The Royal Downfall" has had a few glitches and I've been busy.

Everything is fine; so fear not. I simply have not been on the computer; and haven't even responded to emails; friends and others.

For those who've stuck by me since the beginning of my blog; MY MOST DEEPEST AND SINCERE THANKS! THE SAME FOR MY NEW FOLLOWS. I noticed while trying reply to inquiries; I have new people to check website/blogs/twitter; in addition to catch up on a few of my favorites.

Thanks to all who have stuck with me, had patience, and understanding. It may take me a bit to catch up with all of the social networks, et al; and while belatedly wishing to reply to long overdue comments on the blog, I noticed now followers I am *stalking* (in a great way!) a few; so when I acknowledge my awards? I will have more to acknowledge.

Incidentally; I am writing and posting without checking punctuation, grammar, and so forth. I most desperately want to acknowledge others; and this is my time to at minimum; catch up a bit. I thank you all, I honor you all, I truly care deeply for my followers; wherever you are at this moment, place and time? May you have the most wondrous day; today and everyday. I will become caught up.

Again; my most sincere apologies.

Now; if someone could make either a mimosa or a Pimms; as this IS thirsty Thursday: I would be most grateful!

Wanting for each of you peace, love, happiness and joy!

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

A Royal Downfall

2011-04-28T23:13:00.000-05:00

Pull up a chair, dear readers and allow me to tell you a sad; yet true tale. A true life fairy tale gone all wrong. This is the story about the queen and king of this castle and the downward spiral that befell them...

The story begins when the king injured his royal foot two years ago. Being a bit of a stubborn king; he refused to listen to the queen when she told him what the problem was; and neglected to visit the royal physician for six months. Finally, after much consternation and at the insistence of his queen (because everyone knows the queen is the true ruler of the household)...he was attended to by not just one royal physician; but many. Finally after many varieties of treatments; he was referred to THE physician. This one was a specialist, took one look at the king’s foot and knew exactly what the ailment was; as well as the proper fix.

What ailed him was exactly what his wife, the queen; had foretold two years prior. She was very good at just such a thing, by the way. So immediately, upon the advise of the royal surgeon; he scheduled surgery. Now; this was all well and good...except for the downward spiral that was about to befall those in residence.

The king prepared for his upcoming surgery and had purchased all the proper accouterments prior; so they would all be at the ready for the royal nursemaid. The nursemaid? Well, she was a bit of a klutz and was of the age when her arms weren’t quite long enough anymore. Therefore, she had begun to use spectacles with which to read. One evening within mere hours before his majesty’s surgery; she took a great fall. Much like the good egg; Humpty Dumpty, she was afraid that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t be able to put her together again.

So His Majesty; being a kind and caring husband picked the injured nursemaid up from the floor and carried her off to the infirmary. The royal physicians ran all sorts of tests and determined that she was not permanently injured. She had struck her knee against the concrete hearth and they were concerned she may have done severe damage. Yet, miraculously this was not the case. She was sent home with strict instructions to rest it; along with a leg immobilizer and crutches. As so she complied.

Just prior to all this; yet after the king purchased extra parts for the throne, the queen giggled a wee bit and perhaps even tweeted about “death by potty chair.” Until she realized that it would come in quite handy. Right about the time she realized she kneecapped herself on the hearth. You see the queen and the nursemaid are one and the same. Yet, she was insistent that her husband continue with his surgery; and the he complied.

The queen/nursemaid took her beloved to the royal hospital where everyone believed her to be the patient. This; my readers was not the case. The king’s surgery went quite well and he promised to comply with his restrictions. The queen/nursemaid took him back to the castle and placed him in the royal bedchamber. He promised to obey and was threatened with several things should he not comply. Severe punishments such as banishment to the dungeon, the carriage house, and even recovery with the queen’s mum. The queen knew her husband well; and as she was on crutches and had the household, as well as the hounds to tend to; she was concerned. In fact, she nearly called for smelling salts the first time the king arose from his bed; still groggy from the anesthesia. For should he bump his toe; his surgery may be to no avail. As the queen was a loving wife; she was chucking wobblers left and right at the king. This caused him some displeasure; but at this point the queen didn’t care. She was ready to crown him with her crutch. She was more concerned about his successful recovery than anything else. So she called in the troops; one in particular. The mother of the king; who had had previously offered her assistance would be arriving the following day to help. The queen was suffering her own injuries, in pain herself, and distressed at her husband’s stubborn self-reliance.

So while the queen appreciates the “royal potty seat” she is a bit tired, as well as in pain. So in the morning; His Majesty’s mother will arrive to reprieve her. Hopefully, she will not only see part of a moment in history and take a nap.

The moral of this story? You should always listen to your mum, your wife, and your physician. Also, NEVER make fun of the royal potty chair because it may karmically bite you in the arse.

THE END

And In the End...

2011-04-11T11:16:00.000-05:00

One year ago today, we helped a beautiful spirited Vizsla slip calmly into a peaceful, golden slumber. He was suffering from two forms of canine cancer. First, it was mast cell tumors and we were fortunate to be able to treat him with both traditional and non-traditional methods. He developed a limp in his front leg and I knew there was something wrong. I cancelled his appointment with his normal vet; knowing he'd end up back in oncology again. He did. When the vet called to give me the news; I could sense her disappointment and grief over the inability to help save such a young, vibrant dog. They did everything possible. Yet, there was nothing anyone could do. It was time; far past time to be exact.

There are several blogs about him and I'll be writing books about his adventures; but a year ago tonight I wrote this blog, You see; even though I knew before anyone else. I am grieving. Me of all people... grieving. I deal with death and dying on a regular basis, help ease the pain of others; and even spoke at the University Teaching Hospital six months after his passing.

One year later; I grieve more than I did the day the vet came to the house and helped him. He refused to go on his own, and we didn't want to prolong his suffering. It had gone on far too long already. When I look back at the picture of his last car ride; I feel the loss. I seel that I let him stay too long. I knew he was leaving, before anyone. I feel the pain and the guilt all over again; even though he was willing to painfully chase after 'interlopers' in our yard that afternoon.

He had a wonderful time on this earth. He was well cared for and well loved. He loved and cared for us; in return. His favorite thing was to curl up next to me on the couch; and he'd follow everywhere I went. He had room to run, could jump ten feet in the air to catch quail; and was a source of much joy, along with a bit of exasperation. He loved everyone; and if someone came to visit, he felt it his duty to lick them half to death.

His last few weeks: I spent nights sleeping on the floor next to him. Just in case. I begged and pleaded with him to go; that we'd be alright and didn't want him to suffer anymore. A few times I thought he might, but he was a fighter. Just when his breath would stop for several seconds; he would gasp and breathe again. So, we made arrangements with the vet to come to the house. I remember it all as if it were just yesterday....

His last two days; it was sunny and warm; especially the last day; April 11, 2010. He loved music just as I do; and would even try to dance if I was dancing about the house. We loved wind chimes, as well. We spent two days going for car rides in the convertible. I placed a pillow for him to rest comfortably and off we'd go. We went to McDonald's several times where he ate cheeseburgers and fries. He also ate pizza as his final meal. The day of his passing; I moved his orthopedic cushion out onto the deck so he could lie in the warmth of the sun. You see; he never wanted to get out of the car and come inside those last days. He knew what was coming; and he preferred driving around listing to the Beatles and John Lennon.

Before the doc arrived, I made a spot for him, and we laid together on his cushion and took a nap. Even though he was on a sedative and pain medication; he refused to lie down and sleep unless I laid down beside him. The doctor arrived, my husband worried that I would be devastated and would hold onto him; keeping him here. Instead; it was just the opposite. I put on his favorite song, placed it on repeat, and sat with my hand on him. I gave him Reiki. I saw his little boy spirit leave his worn out body. My husband, big strong guy that he is: cried like a child while I stayed strong. The vet gently said, "He's gone." Although, I had already seen him looking out the front door; I told his body what a beautiful boy he was, how much love and joy he'd brought into our lives. I told him how much I would miss him curling up next to me on cold and rainy days. I told him this and much, much more. He wasn't even 9 years old yet; he never had the chance to grow old. The vet was kind enough to let us spend as much time as we needed.

When goodbyes were finished; my husband helped the veterinarian place him in the car. As they were outside; I began to cry. The tears flowed, the grieving began in earnest. And yes; even though he comes around, I miss him still. As I write this while listening to the chimes on the back porch; I am grieving him today every bit as much as I did one year ago. He may have been "just a dog" and some may not understand. But he was MY dog; and a damn good one at that. If anyone ever totally "got" me? It was TJ; a beautiful boy Vizla. And in the end; the love he gave... still takes my breath away.

Contest announcement!

2011-04-01T19:47:00.017-05:00

I’ve been hinting recently that there was a giveaway in the works. And because I follow several types of blogs and vice versa; there will be a little something for everyone. It won’t be easy, though; and the first clue has already been given.

Here are the rules:

One clue will be posted, tweeted, and/or placed on the Facebook page of Heart Centered Psychic and at random times. If you’re not already following my blog where prize pictures will be added and guesses, posted so winners can be chosen: you may want to do just that. That’s the easiest place for me to keep track of guesses, as well. I leave that up to you. If you follow on twitter and choose to that others not know; feel free to send a direct message. That said:

Think of it as a treasure hunt combined with hide and seek; with a dash of guessing games tossed in the mix!

The hints may or not be obscure, so you may want to do your homework and put on your thinking caps! If you've read through the blogs; it's quite simple. The contest will run from now through April 7th.

On April 8th, I will draw have someone outside the household pick numbers at random based on who enters and his or her interests. Those people will be winners and one will be a grand prize winner. Depending on the number of entries; there will be a pet prize, prize for musical types, and something for moms and children.

There will also be a prize for paranormal investigators; and it will not be allowed in a house with children, as children are quite often see and are frightened by paranormal activity.

Besides the blue clue for dogs; which is also listed below as a prize: One of the prizes is a $25.00 gift card to Amazon for readers and music people; unless you prefer something different!

There's more yet to come; depending on how many entries are received. And as I sit here debating the wind chimes are ringing; so I'll take that as a sign.Yes; you may enter more than once...

Oh; look! A new prize...

Good luck; and keep hunting!!

Because I try to be considerate: here’s was today’s first clue already out there:

“Surrender. But don't give yourself away. I know that's pretty cheap. But mommy's all right and daddy's all right.”

Clue #2: "8 year old boys sound like 8 year olds; even when they are unable to speak."

Clue #3: Hungarian super athletes prefer fast food while riding around topless.

Clue #4 is a photo; and is part of a prize for pet people. Must love dogs! Fits 20 to 40 pounds:

Clues #5 and #6: I have lots of nicknames and if there's an anniversary fast approaching that marks my passing.

Clue #7: Check the blog for the tagline "windchimes."

Clue #8: It's hard to put a good dog down.

Fun with Four letters words

2011-03-27T18:33:00.002-05:00

It is said that it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.....

The story begins during the week of St. Patrick’s Day. I felt as though I were getting sick. Sick is a four letter word in my vocabulary. I’ve no time for illness; so I called in the troops. Not literally of course. That would be wrong. I called on others who I know are energy workers. Reiki practioners along with others who help heal; even through prayer. There's more on my website under Reiki, if want to look.

Back to where I began. Around St. Patrick’s Day, I knew I was coming down with something. So as I sent the word around; while also running Reiki; I could already sense the healing energy. Call me crazy? That’s OK. I’ve heard it before and I’m OK with that. Yet, I can assure you that’s not the case. I am simply that sensitive on so many different levels.

So while l lay upon the couch, I get all goofy. I tweet to various people as I mix business and fun. Maybe not the brightest idea; yet like my blog, my tiny blog that causes me joy, pain, smiles, and love: is a lot like me. As Popeye The Sailor man says, “I yam what I yam.” When helping others, I am not truly zany but sometimes; let’s face it “Girls want to have fun!” Especially as it diverts the attention away from the smell and nausea.

Have I lost you? If so, please? WAKE UP!! You’ll miss the good stuff! Otherwise; please don’t drool on your device. OK. Movin on...

As I lay upon the couch as I'm flirting with disaster, wanting to know how to get a hold of Molly Hatchet; clearly delirious, having fun, nausea and all. Also, I am in charge of house, home, hearth, dogs...and so forth. I could have done ads as a “Charlie girl.” That would require the smell of meat. Fried meat to be exact! UGH!

So the dogs were sleeping, all three of them. Two sharing the couch, one jumping on my stomach, and one at my feet. Great, except the guard dog passes gas that can be heard from miles away. One dog belches in my face, and I? Am feeling Sick!! ARGH!

The dogs must be fed, let outside, and watched; so small prissy rescue who is under the misnomer she’s a cat; LOVES the hot meal being served by large flatulent dog. Again? Gagging! If only I’d had a spoon.

So back inside, I go; all grumpy like one of Snow White’s dwarves. Then? THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN DID! CRAP! THE HUSBAND COMES HOME. HE KNOWS I DETEST HOT DOGS; ESPECIALLY THE SMELL WHEN NOT FEELING WELL! SIGH.. Fine.

Anyway; I suck it up and try not to spew and I tweeted. I did leave the room to be sick. Then the micro-dogging began. Again. Did I mention I’m not a fan of the micro dogs and I was hoping for a spoon to gag again. Certain I did.

This? Went on for three days. Minimum of three whole nausea inducing days. As I flirted with disaster on Twitter? Something amazing happened! I laughed and I felt better! They say that laughter makes you happy and happy people heal and feel better faster. It does people; as does dancing. This I know to be fact. I don’t care about laughter lines around my eyes. It shows I laugh and dance and smile!!

What I DO care about? The stench of microwaved lips and *holes, along with dogs. And those that...well to put it bluntly? Fart. As well as the poop I was required to pick up while sick.

Sorry...must run. Feeling ill! I’ll leave it to you to figure out who may (or not) lose the eye! Maybe a poop rake will do just the trick. Hmmm...Maybe a picture, even!

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

*Note: No live dogs were harmed in the making of this posting.

Voices

2011-03-19T14:26:00.000-05:00

A little over year ago today; I unofficially launched my blog; along with a Twitter account, and an associated Facebook page. A friend of mine came to help. That’s what friends are for; yet despite everything the song remains the same. I am socially inept. I am; however, a work in progress.

I’m getting better every day. I’m learning to fly; but it’s me taking time.

My welcome was posted just over year ago; but I didn’t write my first true post for a couple of weeks. Because what began as a blog about my paranormal life; took a swerve. It spun my head around. Oh, it was about the dead and dying, all right; but it was about a dog. A beautiful boy dog who would be passing from cancer.

But like a singer; I write the blogs. I find my voice and I find the voice of others. I read you, I stalk your blogs. I post and like a ship lost in the night, I wander; adrift at sea. The vast sea of social networks, blogs, tweets; connecting. Oh... I’m great at connecting. Just not through electronic media. My connections are more on a personal level and on a spiritual level. But, then that’s the way I have always been.

What started out to be a blog based solely on the paranormal? Has grown into so much more. I have blogged about the paranormal, dogs, parenting, death, dying, loss, humor, ghostly legends, friends, music, and love. Always; it’s about the love. The love that never dies and always exists. Even after a loved one passes. The love is ever existing. I have bared my soul and have opened my heart and arms to all. All of you; my dear readers.

Essentially? All that I am. My joy, my laughter, my pain, my sorrow....me. All in the name of love. All because I care.

And in the past year; while I cast about and found you? I find me. For I am you and you are me. You prove that we are the same. Despite differences; in the end when it comes right down to it? We are one. We laugh, we love, we cry, and we bleed. We share one big planet. One global community that interconnects and relates us all; whether by blood or not.

In one year and just over 60 blogs; You’ve found me from Russia, Netherlands, Canada, Belize, Paraguay, Germany, Japan, Latvia, Iran, Australia, New Zealand, The United Kingdom and South Korea; just to name a few. The only place I’ve not found you in; is Antarctica. I am honored that each and every one of you has found me; despite my ineptitude and lack of social networking grace.

I love you. Every one of you; whether you comment or not. I know you are there. I see you. I wish you much peace and love. I wish you well. I wish you all great and wondrous things. I wish you a full belly and a warm bed. If I could make that happen alone. I surely would.

And over the next year; I will continue to share myself with you; and I ask that you share yourselves with me. And will wish for you even more peace, love, laughter, and an end to your pain. For I am you. And you are me.

And I promise you this; there will soon be changes made. Changes; but on a more social level. My blog will be more user friendly, I will continue reaching out to others, and I will learn to tweet effectively. Soon.

Keep listening... I love your voices.

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

Music Mania!

2011-03-14T03:11:00.001-05:00

It is officially Monday.

Normally; If remember, I send out a tweet acknowledging all of the musical talent. There are so many out there; some living, some not. Aerosmith had a great line “Something’s wrong with the world today.” The song? “Livin ‘on the edge.” Another great song by Aerosmith is “Cryin”. Many are crying right now.

Then there was the line from Pink Floyd. “Hello... is there anybody out there. Tell me can you hear me?” and the song “Learning to Fly” They had some great songs, as well. Not only that; but there are a lot out there wondering if there’s anybody home; or their learning how to fly.

There’s REO Speedwagon. I remember when they started out as a college dorm group, practiced in a small town while a bar band; and I could hear them while sitting on my back step as a youngster.

Van Halen had great songs; both with David and with Sammy. Right here, right now is an excellent line; and The Red Rocker Rocked with VH just like Eddie rocks the guitar, and David rocked his long flowing locks.

There are were alternative groups that had great song lines. The Cure, The Cranberries, Matchbox 20; The Smithereens; and many more.

The reggae artists, the blues singers, the jazz musicians, even the “hair bands” from my younger days have merit. Many are still around and still as popular as ever. Some more well known after passing away than when in the physical world.

Then there are individuals. Such as David Bowie, Jason Mraz, Gregory Page, Gary Richardson, Raven Quinn; Jewel. Adrian Belew, Allison Krauss.

All beautifully talented. All unique. Some already have fame, some are not yet well-known.

Many groups and individuals; I’ve not only heard on the radio; but have seen them in concert. A few several times. Some I’ve been privileged enough to meet; although I can’t tell you which ones.

Each and every one of these groups and/or members began as unknowns.A tiny drop of water in a large ocean of musical talent.

Yet each of them; and many more has left an impact on someone’s life. Many are still leaving me with an impact: even some of the lesser known.

Then there is talent that can’t truly be classified. They were a group; then they weren’t. The rumors flew. Fans were outraged when they broke up. They each became individual artists. Some I had the privilege of seeing. Some I didn’t. But in some ways? They’ve come together; again.

I remember watching the live broadcast when I was small. The broadcast that had so very many that went on to become famous talents in their own right. Many were already well known.

The group consisted of four members. John. Paul. George. Ringo,

Each with beautiful, talent. Each individual. Each unique.

The group? The Beatles. Not their original name, of course; but some of the names of members weren’t original; either.

The live broadcast I sat and watched as a child was the live broadcast of “All You Need Is Love.” I was riveted even as a very small child. I love music, you see. I would sit in my room for hours. Reading. Listening to AM radio.

I had no idea who they were back then. I knew they were special, though.

I had no idea they struggled when they started as a group; nor did I realize they were famous. Nor did I have any idea they had started out as a tiny drop that would create a huge ripple effect.

I only knew I was drawn. Drawn to the music. Drawn to the fact that their music would change the world. A revolutionary change. Because of love.

Love is you. Love is me.

Come together and Love. Knowing peace will follow.

Love,

Brenda

Heart Centered Psychic

My Sorrow

2011-03-12T13:00:00.001-06:00

I am the willing to admit it: I am horribly inept at blogging, social networking, and well let’s face it; computer skills are not my forte. Frankly? I struggle and honestly don't have time. My forte? I will tell you; but many of you? Might consider me insane. NOT so: when it comes down to brass tacks. I am one of those people that cares. Who cares about what’s going on in the world today, one who knows and sees far too much. One that reaches out to others. A smile. A hug. A challenge to others to reach out to the world. I have no time to do everything; even if I could.

I returned from out of state less than a week ago. Yet again I was at another hospital. An old hospital; but I was focused. I flew into Houston Hobby on Delta. I need to be there for my family. My grown son; now a grown man with a toddler of their own. My son couldn’t drive for two weeks, my daughter had to return to work, and with toddler; I wanted to be there.

No; I don’t have two children who intermarried. I consider my daughter-in-law to be my daughter. I love her like a daughter; and if I had a daughter? I would have wanted one just like her; beautiful, smart, talented, and a wonderful mom.

I have friends in Galveston; where my daughter works and where my son had his surgery. I also see clients when I’m in Galveston, on occasion. Not this time. I didn’t schedule any phone readings, either. This trip was all about family. Family is important.

For one who has the ability to know? Truly have a way of “knowing” I knew something big was about to happen. Something huge. And while there; while I had time to check email; I saw that there were still problems getting my new website up and running. That’s done.

I returned home and immediately hit the ground running; so to speak. Trying to catch up on everything I felt I had neglected. Not the house; but my husband and animals. I had client appointments. I felt overwhelmed and racked with guilt and grief. Something horrible was about to happen and there was nothing I could possible do to stop it. Yet; my heart was heavy. I knew there would be loss and many would lose loved ones. And on top of it all; an upcoming anniversary of a death was approaching....

On Wednesday; I came undone. The day was growing closer. The one I lost; gone but present was with me. I knew of his passing prior to his doctors. He couldn’t speak; but he told me. He is a Vizsla; a beautiful boy. Still.

As the event that couldn’t be prevented; but perhaps the losses lessened. I was awake. I could not sleep. The horrific events in Japan were about to occur and I wept for those who would lose loved ones. The loss of the physicality. The devestation that was to occur. Those who would worry about others they couldn’t communicate with due to the event. They would worry, be frightened, concerned, and devestated.

As I sat vigil? My dog was with me. He is I am. Just prior to the earthquake; my beautiful boy lay his head in my lap. And I cried for others who did not know yet. I wept for what I was seeing in my mind’s eye. It was if I were there; yet not. I know people personally or professionally from Japan.

Yesterday; my husband was home. He knew I had been up all night. I told him of great devastation in the early morning hours. I did not watch TV or radio; it was not necessary. He knows how much my heart hurts for others who lose loved ones. He turned on television; and yes, my timing was correct. He insisted I get out so we went to lunch. Behind me; sat a gentleman from Japan speaking to two others. I wanted to speak to him; but instead I distracted myself; or rather my husband distracted me.

We returned home and I spent more time in meditation and prayer. I sent healing to those in need. Finally; I tidied up a few loose ends for the new website; and acknowledge some on Twitter and returned emails.

Yet; as I did so; I remembered the gentleman at the restaurant, the employees outside a local business collecting for those in need. I remembered those who were suffering and those who were grieving.

The house was quiet, and there was one missing in my household.

The beautiful Vizla who passed 11 months ago to the day. The dog who loved Reiki. The dog who was present; yet not. The dog who’s heart was breaking for others; as well. The dog who’s physical presence is still miss; even though I know he is still with me.

For all those who have been affected by yesterday’s early morning event; you are in my heart, my thoughts, and prayers.

I am wishing you comfort, peace, and love. For family is important and we are all one family.

Love,

Heart Centered Psychic

Delta, Delta, Delta!

2011-02-17T16:06:00.000-06:00

Recently I posted on Twitter that I was "running away" from home. The truth be told; I was on my way to South Texas to help out some of my own family. I have a grown son, a beautiful daughter-in-law, and a grandbaby. My son was having surgery, his wife needed to be getting back to work, and well; with a toddler? I decided to offer up a bit of assistance which wasaccepted. So my husband used some of our frequent flyer miles with our preferred airline. The one with the little red trianglar symbol that goes by the name Delta.

Because we live in an area where the weather can be unpredictable this time of year; I asked that he allow an extra day for travel, just in case. The nearest airport is small, but close enough for him to drop me off to catch the six AM flight and make it back for work. Little did I know where the day would lead...

I was up at 3:00 AM, hopped in the shower, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, dried my hair; and out the door we flew. My husband was taking me so I wouldn't have to schlep heavy baggage around airports; due to the fact I occasionally have a twinge from my frozen shoulder. We arrived, I had checked both myself and my bag online. The TSA and gate agent who tagged my to it's final destination were both helpful. I chatted with two woman who were also flying to Atlanta to catch a connecting flight to Dublin. Once we were all on board, away from the gate, and into the air? Smooth sailing with an early arrival.

I did have a carry-on that included a computer, my e-reader, and a gift for my grandbaby; along with my coat. By this time, I was getting tired, my shoulders were fatigued, and I wasn't sure if I could manage all the way down the aisle as I was seated clear back at the end. So as I walked from one gate, rode the escalator, took the tram, and headed up to the next gate; I was about done in. I asked about the possibility of upgrading. Not something I would do, but in this case I needed not to be holding up the traffic. The lovely woman offered to move me closer to the front. Excellent! Now, to call the husband and have him cancel the rental car. The "kids" had offered to let me use a vehicle and since my son wouldn't be driving for a couple of weeks at least; I had found a great last minute deal on a limo.

I was allowed to pre-board and as I was greeted; I could see into the cockpit. It looked familiar. They always greet their passengers; including a member of the flight crew. So I sat in my seat, buckled up and readied for take-off. While I may not have flown as much as many? I've still flown my share of miles. As the flight attendant is going through the safety instructions; I am essentially doing the same. It helped take my mind off of other things. I could tell by those walking down the aisle who was cranky, rushed, scared, and serene. I also notice the aircraft was the same craft that went down off the coast of Novia Scotia.I paid tribute to my friend, the wife he left behind; also a friend, and all who've lost lost loved ones in Silent Remembrance and I was seated in the same seat as my friend had been. I reached out and touched the wall in front of me; knowing all would be well. As I got up to use the restroom and give place my cup for the attendants to dispose of; I told them a bit of the story and asked if it would be possible for me to look into the cockpit prior to deplaning. I told them I write and wanted to tell of the kindness and generosity, along with the synchronicity of sitting in the exact same seat as my friend. They didn't find this an odd request; apparently they are asked all sorts of unusual things.

So knowing that I would need extra time to deplane with my carry-on; I waited to allow most of the others to deplane. As I made my way towards the front, purse and carry-on in hand; I was waved forward by a man in uniform. Expecting only to have a look inside, my bags were stowed, I was helped into the co-captain's seat; by the co-captain himself. I was shown how they navigate and fly. The altimeter, the throttle, the flaps, everything. I was deathly afraid to touch anything for fear I might do harm to others. The co-captain; Brian gently placed his hat on my head. He asked if I had a camera with me. I told him I had one in my purse. So he and the captain stood there and took three pictures of me with my hands at the "wheel." I could tell from the energy he'd left; both at his control stick and in his hat that he cares. He cares a great deal about those lives that are placed in his hands. So does the captain who for now I'll refer to as "Captain P."

As we deplaned together, Co-Captain Brian took my carry-on and put it with his so I'd not need to carry it any than necessary. As the three of us walked through the Houston airport; I told them a bit about the loss. And how I had dreamed of the burning wires, saw the fire in the above compartment; and how this man has visited frequently to pass along messages. I also told him of how I'd dreamt of other future events.

As we got to the area where we were to separate ways: me to retrieve my luggage and find my driver; they to depart for their own destinations... all I could do was to reflect on their kindness, their caring, and their generosity. And be overcome by the kindness shown to one passenger. I wish them all safe travels and Godspeed, as I tip my cap to those fine folks at Delta and give them the props they so richly deserve. I'll see you on the return flight as well as future flights, because what I didn't say? Is that when working for a major automaker based out of Detroit? The preferred provider twenty years ago was Northwest and Delta.

Thanks for the love, Delta crew of flight DL1565

Broken Hearts & Mended Hearts

2011-02-12T17:11:00.001-06:00

Those that know me or know of me; understand that I speak to and from the heart. As in the United States; it is beginning to become more well-known that not only should we become more aware of what we eat and drink: it’s also important that to be heart healthy at any age; it’s imperative we reduce our stress. This was clearly obvious the past few days.

A friend I’ve known since the 7th grade which for those not familiar with the US school system; this would have placed me at about the age of eleven or twelve. Her husband had a major heart attack before the Christmas holidays. I wrote a blog about it, and if you’d like to read it you may find it here: Good Samaritans, Dark Angels, and Gifts of Love . Her husband was referred to a major hospital complex. Another friend and I knew she would be waiting. Alone. To find out what the outcome would be: would it be good, or would the worst possible thing that could happen to a woman who loves and cares for her husband. They have two boys. How would she cope? Who would be with her and care for her? No one should endure all this alone.

Our other friend arrived before me; which was perfection in it’s own. For I was taking care of another. I arrived late, after no sleep; believing I would sleep like the proverbial rock. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was awakened to pass messages to my friend in the other bed. Not the friend who’s husband was having surgery; but the other one. I sent them over to her. I lay under the covers; listening. Listening as she was greeting them, speaking with them, until it was time for her beloved messengers to depart and for her to awaken. She was near tears. I could feel her not wanting for them to leave her. Yet, it was time. Normally; I am the one to pass on the messages to her; not this time.

After a brief stretch downstairs, I could no longer deal with the chaos and all that was on the television. I see too much at times; and my heart breaks. Just as our mutual friend was at this vast complex because her husband’s heart was physically broken; mine was spiritually breaking. I said I would be upstairs. I sat on the bed, not realizing I could have jumped in the shower. I misunderstood when my dear friend said she’d be up in a minute and I didn’t want her to stand outside the door; should I be in the shower and miss her knock. When I see and hear too much; it can at times be difficult. Especially with next to no sleep.

Eventually, we caught the shuttle over to the hospital, not realizing we could have walked through the vast complex. We sat in the open heart surgery waiting area with our dear friend; although I’d already told her it would all go well. She was still nervous and who would blame her. As we sat there, encouraging her to eat or drink something; anything, her foot and knees were hopping; clearly she was a bundle of nerves. My friend and I offered to at least get her something to drink. We headed for a vending machine for her preferred diet drink. As we returned; there was a young man in scrubs outside the waiting room speaking to a large gathering of family. There was one extra person with them that no one but myself saw. The person being kept alive on life support. The person in the scrubs; wanted to know from the family whether they would give permission to donate organs to save others. I felt terrible as we went through the family gathering to take a drink to our friend and be with her.

Every time the phone rang, the tension in the waiting room was palpable. Who would it be for? What was the news? Was it good or bad? I knew who the phone rang for and what the news would be. I sat. I watched; not only over my friend, but was holding others’ hearts in my hands. I even went so far as to go and give a woman I did not know a hug. She was in need; she was afraid for her younger sister who was of the same age as my friend’s husband. As I hugged her; I whispered in her ear that all would be well and surgery would be better than expected. She hugged me, and as she cried; she thanked me. She was hoping I was right. I told her I knew it would all be fine. It was. As I saw her small family leaving to get food and rest; she hugged me outside the elevator; thanked me again for easing her pain-filled heart and troubled soul.

I returned to my friends, continuing to keep the vigil. I watched those seen and those unseen. Doctors, patients, nurses; they were all there. There was even a child who wandered over from a different wing to attract my attention. I do not like major hospital complexes for this very reason. I can’t help them all. After all; I am but one person. My mission was not to help the confused ones, but to be there for our friend.

During lunch; our friend received the call. The surgery was over. We rushed to celebrate the wonderful news. As we passed two young men coming toward us were carrying a cooler. I saw the cooler they were carrying; and the one following the donated organ. He’d not quite figured out that he was no longer among the living. He knows now and is grateful to have helped save the life of another. He is among friends and family on the other side.

Our friend had eaten 5 pretzels by the time we finally convinced her to leave the bedside of her husband. I saw him, he looked good; but he was having pain issues. Who wouldn’t after having their ribs cracked open and having bypasses. We wanted to feed her, although she was reluctant to leave. As I was standing with her; I had my hand on top of his and my hand on her back. He was drifting. I could sense the healing energy he was receiving as I channeled it through to him. I met their lovely minister in the waiting room. He brought me to tears. He told me that I am the minister. I am but a simple person who wants to help others.

We took our friend, fed her a bagel to tide her over, and our other friend went over to get her daughter a cell phone. She has worked hard to earn it and as an internationally adopted child; it was well deserved. She’s worked hard on her life the past year, as have the entire family. She spent her first nine months in an orphanage and has come quite a way with help from her mom and an excellent therapist. She is a beautiful child whom can be anything she wants. According to “Babushka” anyway.

As we were out, I clearly crossed the line between having fun and hurting my dear friend. One I’ve known since the age of four. We cried in the restaurant. I know she has forgiven me and have received an email today that it’s forgotten. That was my greatest fear.

Fortunately, before the lovely bride of our heart patient arrived to join us for dinner, and as we sat at the bar watching basketball; the most delightful bartender who will one day be a star? Got us laughing. As I slept that night; I dreamt of the heart patient and was frightened to verbalize. As it turned out; it was simply a matter of difficulty again with his pain management. After my oldest, dear friend left for her home; I came undone. I sobbed tears of pain; for I had hurt one of my closest friends. I could barely manage to get it together for the drive home. Even after I left the room I sat on my suitcase and broke into tears. The lovely woman who was cleaning next door came over and gave me a hug. She knew of my pain. The thought perhaps I had a relative in the huge complex. I chose not to correct her, but thanked her for the precious gift she gave.

Once I returned home and finally got online; a woman whom I had validated for just prior to my departure, popped up and validated for me that I am a good person. I have a loving heart, and reinforced what I already knew. When you’re in the business I’m in?

You never or at best; rarely...reach out to, read for, and counsel those you love the most.

For you will, at some point; inevitably end up with a broken heart of your very own.

When he is recovered enough to return home: he shall sign this pillow. In honor of the doctor who fixed his ticker and extended his life. Whoever you are? You are loved and appreciated by so many. Myself included:

photo by Brenda Hooser in honor of doc who mended John's heart.
Thank you. We all love you!

Morning Ice Hockey

2011-02-01T07:16:00.000-06:00

Some mornings you wake up thinking your life couldn’t get any better. Then there are mornings where before you know it; the thin layer of ice you’ve been walking on begins to crack and you’re left out in the cold. Next thing you know; the worst possible moment imaginable happens. Your life has gone to the dogs. If you don’t know this moment? Please. Allow me to describe it for you....

It is morning and you have just arisen from bed. You are bleary eyed and not yet fully awake. The spouse has left for work already; but the dogs are thrilled to greet you. In your crazy red flannel pajama pants; the ones littered with large dogs and bones, a black long sleeve T-shirt, and a brown and black plaid flannel shirt you throw on for extra warmth before you greet the day and the dogs. Let’s also not forget the socks; because baby it is cold; bitter cold with howling winds and howling dogs.

First priority; for the dogs, of course, is a bathroom break. Far be it from me to stand between three dogs and their needs. So I open the door and let them out. Only to watch them run out and grab the puck. You stand inside in all your morning glory and tell the dog to drop it. Soon you are resorting to bribery because clearly anything you have to say is far less important than the puck. The last thing you want is to go traipsing out into the snow in your wholly inappropriate attire.

Two of the dogs finally heed the commands of the master and make a fast break for the door; and the treats that may or may not await them on the inside. First, there must be a check. Not a body check; but a mouth check to ensure the puck is left outside. After the puck is dropped on the deck; I take up the stick (or broom, as the case may be) and slap shot it twenty five feet and off the other end of the covered porch.

Soon; it is time yet again for a bathroom break while I’m attempting to grab something to eat prior to dropping to the floor from low blood sugar. I do not want become comatose and be mistaken as food; nor do I feel the need to have my face licked. So, again; I play door-maid to the dogs, as I focus on my need to eat and nothing else. I hear something hard being dropped and rolled around outside on the deck. I shrink with horror. IT IS THE PUCK!!

“LEAVE IT!” I yell before opening the door, knowing full well that puck is nasty. Thankfully; this time the smallest of the three, who was kind enough to obey, scoots inside the house. Then I glance up to witness the opposing team. One chocolate, long haired, miniature dachshund is watching the puck and glaring me in the eye. Crap. It's "Go Time."

A hush comes over the back porch as the wind dies down; and one can almost imagine the cheers and jeers from the neighborhood. Along with the song played in old westerns whenever there was a showdown. The name of the song escapes me, but that’s not what’s important. What is important? Is that I am the victor in this particular shoot-out.

As I stand in the freezing cold, dressed inappropriately for an early morning game of hockey; I take up my stick and stare down my opponent. The tension in the air is palpable. Will I be able to shoot past the opponent and get the puck off the other end of the deck? Will I be defeated? Will my opponent catch the puck and dash toward his goal which is the door? There’s only one way to tell and that’s to go for it.

I calculate how hard and how fast I’ll need to slap shot in order to get the puck by the defender. Small dogs can be quick and this one looks hungry. He is intent; yet I remain calm and determined. The moment has arrived...

With my trusted old broom in hand, I whack the frozen dog poop past the dachsund and off the other end of the deck; thereby saving myself from having to remove it from his mouth.

SCORE!!! Game over; I win! At least until the next game.

I only hope the neighbors were not witness to my shame. I am now considering sleeping fully clothed; just in case. Because? This is only part of my shame. The dog is mine, the pants are mine, but the stick is borrowed. Yet rest assured; I shall soon have one of my very own!

Lemonade

2011-01-13T02:00:00.002-06:00

Instead of each of us respecting one another’s beliefs, opinions, and various points of view; it all seems to me as though the mindset is all about disrespect. I honor and value the opinion of each person’s right to his or her own mindset, beliefs, and respect that right. Yet; instead of cooperation; it’s more about deciding who’s right and who’s wrong. Who’s best and who’s not.

For anyone who reads my blogs; and I blog about everything; it’s not about judgement. It’s about acceptance, respect for each other, and unconditional love. I am all about the love of mankind; and respect for everyone.

I am essentially a “one woman show”. I am a mom; who is an empty nest mother, a grandmother, cook, homemaker, door attendant to 3 dogs, runner of errands, reader and commenter on blogs, an intuitive medium who is up at all hours so I can best serve others, a paranormal investigator, a Reiki I practitioner, a friend, a volunteer, and a wife.

I was placed on this Earth in order to help and serve others. I can only stretch myself; as well as my time so thin.

In order to best serve; I have an amateurish website which is soon to change. I’ve helped in more ways than I will share. That is my right; and confidentiality is the client’s privilege. Should they choose to share the information I pass on; they may do so, yet without permission I will never share information with anyone...for any reason.

I would never do harm to anyone; instead I choose love. And peace. When I began blogging almost a year ago; I knew nothing. I still know very little about networking in the blog world; and I’m OK with that. Yet, while those I’ve worked to hard to build relationships with have blossomed like lovely flowers. They have large followings, while I have few. I’m OK with that, too; as I send them love and am overjoyed by their success!

Despite my tiny little blog? I have good stats; for which I’m eternally grateful. Currently, I have over well over 1000 blogs to read; listed and otherwise, While I will be busy for a few days; my husband will be off work and holding down the fort. He will be pulling triple duty. He is a great husband and I’m very thankful for him, as well.

So for a bit, I will be taking a “Blogabatical” as of Saturday night. There will be no posts for a couple of weeks. I will check in on my favorite blogs, paranormal, humor, and otherwise; as well as check mine for replies. Sometimes; my computer has a mind of it’s own and doesn’t email when someone responds. Nonetheless, I will respond because I care My posts always remain open and I do not moderate.

So as the saying goes: "When life hands you lemons you cam choose to make lemonade, or not. I choose lemonade. I honor, respect, and will send you all unconditional love. And yes; I will still check in from time to time.

Sending each and everyone peace and love; today and every day; because when it comes right down to it? All we need is LOVE!

A Branch Off The Tree: A Boy's Eye View

2011-01-08T01:11:00.000-06:00

What you are about to read is my intro to a guest post. So dear readers; read on; and if you'd be so kind? Be so kind as to thank the boy who was kind enough to do this for dear old mom, please?

Back before Christmas I posted a blog entitled Branching Out. If you've not already read it; you might like to, as it tells the story about a mother struggling to support her child. That story? Is my story. It might give you background to this follow up blog. As it's often said, there are two sides to every story. Indeed. My version was about a young divorced mother; struggling to care for her child while feeling every bit as battle weary at the end of the day as a soldier; also feeling as though I were a huge failure. If you're a parent; especially a single parent, have ever have been single parent, even if you know a single parent? You'll get it. Part of parenting is feeling inadequate. They don't come out of a a womb with a handbook "New Owners Guide; How to Steer Your New Model Down the Highways & Byways of Life” when a child is entrusted into your care.

It's not all sappy and weepy; I promise! You may just find it a tiny bit humorous. But I tell no tales. You'll need to see for yourselves! Go, read it first; then head on back. Or? Read this one as it may draw you more to read the my side. My bloggy doors on all posts are always open to all! People? Trust me when I tell you no matter what? Parenting truly is a difficult and many times a thankless task.

We surely don't do it for the money. We do it? For love. The love for our child or children; and the love we receive in return. A hug, a snuggle, that new baby smell, the diapers, the tantrums, that first step, and that first word. The fistfights from long ago, the mean girls; also from long ago, both of which still exist today.

The "I hate you's" followed by the door slams. The tears with the whispered "But I love you..." as the we weep silently heartbroken. The curfews, the "Everybody else's parent let's them; why can't I????" Followed by the I HATE YOU EVEN MORE; and again with the door slamming, pouting, and all that parenting entails. Yet; most of us carry that glimmer of hope that one day they’ll no longer hate us.

That having been said? Here is the flip side; my son’s unedited memory of that year....

I talked with my mom the week before Christmas about the blog that she had posted about our tree ‘adventure’ when I was around six. It was funny that she posted that because I was just talking to my wife about that Christmas the day that we went to get our tree this year.

I know it was about 20 years ago, so I don’t remember all the details. My mom and I went and got a real tree. It wasn’t too long after she and my dad had divorced so she was doing all of the hard work when it comes to cutting the tree and putting it in the stand. I don’t remember if the trunk was crooked or if we just couldn’t get the bottom cut straight or what the problem was but it ended up on the curb, before Christmas. It was funny because we cut the tree and trimmed the branches then put it into the stand. It wouldn’t stand up straight. Then we did it about three more times, until the tree had shrunk from 7’ to 4’. Sadly, we had to go back out to get a new tree and we were the only house on the block with a tree on the street Christmas morning.

"Guttus Interruptus"

2011-01-04T19:00:00.000-06:00

Since the first of the year; I’ve been trying to play catch-up. A game I’m always a little bit behind. I had plans to write a blog along with catching up on a few of the 50+ I follow. Instead; “life interruptus” happened. My husband called to see if I had time in my schedule to fit an a quick lunch. Since this is a rare occurrence; I happily decided I had time not only for lunch, but to perhaps even get in an errand or two along the way; prior to returning home for two scheduled appointments.

We met for a quiet lunch and discussed the usual mundane things any normal wife and husband who often feel as though life’s centrifugal force has flung upon them. The usual, the ordinary; yet so delightful in a quiet booth in a quiet restaurant.

After leaving kissing him goodbye in the parking lot and heading home; I realized I had time to stop for gas and maybe even had enough time for a quickie car wash. My vehicle is covered with road grime, slush, and all the rest that winter driving entails. I stopped at a gas station I know well and have stopped at many times in the past. I’ve stopped; a woman alone late at night, and have even been placed there at exactly the right time to help another in need. Why not stop in broad daylight?

“Guttus Interruptus” rears it’s head....

Right as I am circling the pump, I see a man cross the busy five lane road as I’m circling into my pump of choice. A man who raises all the warning bells, flashing lights, and the hairs on the back of my neck.

“Guttus Interruptus” is case you’re interested: is my way of saying my intuition is cautioning me to be wary of a situation or person. I always listen when my “gut” interrupts; as it as kept me out of harm’s way more times than I can begin to count. That and being aware of surroundings and careful at always.

Yet; here I am. Pulled up to the pump and so as I watch the gentleman behind my car; I remove one single credit card from my lone wallet. I exit the vehicle, having locked the wallet inside the lock box, made non-threatening eye contact with the man who was behind my car, with the key in hand; trigger finger ready to push the panic button, if necessary.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me; a much older gentleman on the other side of the pump was desperately trying to get my attention to tell me to be careful. I saw him look at me as I pulled in and I nodded in recognition before exiting the vehicle. He finally caught my eye, around the pump as I was already pumping gas; all the while keeping my “sight” on the “unsavory character” who clearly knew I had him within target range, as he had already moved on to the next vehicle.

The gentleman who is yet another ‘secret angel’ said, “I wanted to tell you to be careful about that man. But where I don’t know where he’s gone off to.” I smiled, thanked him for his concern; as well as the fact he’d be so kind. I had thought when he saw me pull up to the pump and looked at me; he understood my nod. He didn’t, but that’s OK. He clearly was watching out for me. I moved out of his line of vision and indicated the man had moved three cars down. The gentleman smiled and drove away. As I proceed to watch; the one who caused the “guttus interruptus” was clearly providing a distraction; in order to get up to no good.

Fortunately? Everyone else at gas station today, were also listening to their own intuition and having a “guttus interruptus” as well...

Not one person at that busy station took the bait.

Happy 2011!!

2010-12-30T13:34:00.002-06:00

Upon the brink of a new calendar year which dawns at 12 AM on January 1, 2011; many are attending parties, making New Year's Resolutions, and plans are being made.

Plans are made to spend time with friends, family, waiting to ring in a new year with a kiss from another. Formal gala’s are thrown around the world and throngs of invited guests arrive dressed in the most beautiful of formal designer apparel. They arrive at the party in expensive cars, engraved invitation in hand; and are greeted by the valet who so graciously and carefully parks the car. They enter the party...

The champagne flows freely, delicious delicacies and gourmet foods are walked about the room on sterling platters held by tuxedoed waiters and waitresses. Guests mingle, drink in hand, taking food and drink from the wait staff as they pass by with their silver trays perched upon white gloved hands. Many times without even giving them a glance, a thank you, or even a second thought. The wait staff see the tray they carry: oh, so carefully as not to spill nor offend; needs replenishment. So ever so calmly, they enter the gourmet kitchen of the palatial home where the gala is held. Understanding that the gourmet caterer is rushed and the guests must be served in a timely, yet calm manner. So, the trays are decorously refilled, the wait staff returns to quietly serve, until the party is over. Once all the guests have departed; the valets, the waitstaff, and the chefs clean up, receive either their pay or tips; and head home.

For some people; it’s about making one or more resolutions for the upcoming year. Perhaps; it’s the promise to eat healthier, lose weight, and exercise. For others; it might be to stop smoking or drinking. For some; it’s a promise to themselves to spend more time with their spouse or their children.

You see; everyone celebrates in a different way. I respect this, as this is their right to choose. Yet, I choose to see things a bit differently. I see every day as a beginning of a new year. Yes; I may have a quiet dinner with my immediate family, but I very seldom “ring in the new year.” Nor; do I ever make resolutions. I tried that once or twice as a child and even as a younger adult. It’s just not me.

Instead; seeing each day as a new beginning to a new year, I simply look to the future. I remember to love, have compassion, and help another in whatever way I can. I also think of those less fortunate. The hungry, the homeless, the abused and battered. Those who don’t know love. I also remember those who remain behind the scenes and serve others; like the waitstaff at those fancy parties. While I’ve never been to one; I know others who have. I am told they are very often just as I imagine.

So this year; I will continue to look toward the future and continue to hope that in the coming year; everyone will have love and peace. That they’ll have safety, clothing, shelter, and food.

And in order to do our part? My husband and I will be donating as much as we can afford to a charitable organization that ensures the money will go directly to feed others.

If you happen to attend a party this weekend? Be sure to smile and say thank you...

HAPPY 2011 everyone; may your year be filled with joy, peace and happiness!

Good Samaritans, Dark Angels, and Gifts of Love

2010-12-28T12:01:00.003-06:00

I try to be the kind of person who pays it forward and gives all year long.

Not the expected things, but the unexpected; as much of my life is all about the unexpected. Things such as the sounds no one else can hear; walking into a room to be surprised by the one long passed, who merely wants to relay a message to a beloved someone still here; or giving guidance in a loving way so that others may be helped in their life and the lives of those that surround them. This is a part of me, who I am, and who I always will be.

Yet? There is something extra special during this time of year that causes me to give all the more. Perhaps; it’s because so many lose loved ones surrounding holidays, maybe they are missing a loved one, and many times? It’s both. When I give to others in need I tend to give quietly. I am a firm believer that paying forward and giving the unexpected gift is a lovely and loving thing to do. Many are shocked and surprised by kind gestures in this day and age.

For example; the time I bought food for someone most would pass on by. Hungry, homeless, filthy; yet shocked, choking back tears of gratitude, as he thanked me and sat right down to gobble up what small meal I bought for him. Right then and there, he ate as if he were starved. I'm sure he was. Oh; I know, there are those out there who will use this as a ruse to get money. I knew he was not one of them. I can tell.

This holiday season; a dear friend of mine since about the age of 12, has a husband who suffered a massive heart attack a few weeks ago. She is always the one to take care of everyone else. Thankfully; her husband survived and was able to be home for the holidays but will need to have major surgery. So, I called; as that’s what friends do for each other. I asked what I could do to help. She was going through the pantry, weeding out the foods her husband could no longer eat; as well as debating how she was going to adjust the holiday dinner. Her plan was to give the food to a food pantry and take the outgrown children’s clothes to donate. Yes; she clearly needed more things to do. Not really, so we hatched a plan. She would put everything together and I would see to it everything got those less fortunate.

I knew I couldn’t fit everything into my small car, so I took my vintage Grand Wagoneer. I seldom care to drive it in the winter. “Woody” is temperamental at times and doesn’t care to have his skin exposed to the elements; especially the salt used on the roads to melt the ice and snow. Yet; I told Woody he really had no choice this time. I was in the driver’s seat. So off we go...

As we were on our 30 mile journey to pick up the items; Woody decided to rebel. Being temperamental; he put all four tires down and stopped dead in his tracks, right at the top of the interstate exit ramp. There was no convincing, coaxing, or sweet talking that would get him to go. As I was about to put the hood up, make certain it wasn’t an engine problem, then walk the half mile to the gas station; I received a Christmas miracle. Not one, really; but several, in fact....

A car with two gentlemen stopped and asked if I needed help. They offered to drive me down to the gas station but I was blocking the intersection. Instead I gave them money, asked if they’d purchase a gas can, some gas and return with it. Off they went.

An off duty police officer stopped to see if I was in need of assistance. I told him of the situation. When he questioned as to whether or not they would return; I thanked him, assured him the gentlemen would be back and I would be OK until then. A few other motorist stopped and motioned through the window, or asked from their vehicles if I needed help. I kindly thanked them, assured them all was taken care of, and sent them on their way,

As I was opening the engine compartment; a gentleman stopped and asked if he could help. As Woody is tempermental; I thought a bit of assistance would be nice. So, I accepted his kind offer. When we managed to finally get the hood open; I offered to give him a dollar or two for his time. It was two days prior to Christmas, after all. He refused, shook my hand, and wished me a Merry Christmas. I was so touched by his kindness; I cried. I’m certain he thought me to be mentally unstable; but he had no idea how much that small gesture meant under the circumstances. I managed to pull myself together and explain I was fine just touched by his kindness.

The two gentlemen returned shortly thereafter; gas can in hand. They put fuel in the tank; although it only took one and a half gallons. They said the gas station lent the gas can and all I needed to do was return it. I offered to give them something for their trouble. They jokingly replied, “We’re dark angels and we help people all the time. Make sure it starts before we go.” It started and they; like the other gentleman refused to take anything for their trouble.

No one would take one red cent from this woman.

I returned the gas can, thanked them, and continued on my way. When I got to my friends’ home; I looked in the engine, checked all the fluid levels, and all was fine. Remember; my father taught me well. My friend’s husband; who’d had the heart attack, also a fine mechanic in his own right not only confirmed what I knew to be true; but gentleman that he is, he got the tools and helped when he should have been resting.

After heading on my way, food and clothing aboard; Woody decided it was time to be on his best behavior. Clearly, the car knew better than I.

For this year? This year I had more paybacks, Good Samaritans, and Christmas angels than I ever could have imagined. I thank them all...

Bad Santa!!

2010-12-24T11:21:00.000-06:00

Tonight? Is a special night for the little ones. Send them to their rooms so they don't read this post. Otherwise; they get lumps of coal. This is for those who work behind the scenes. Therefore; I thought it a rather festive idea to make this post is be about that Jolly Old Elf, who goes my many names. In fact; sometimes the elf has even been known to be a woman. I assure you the Jolly One in this post? Was a bit more frantic than jolly...

Take a moment; relax a bit, have your mulled cider or toddy in hand; and hear all about one bad Santa who nearly ruined a little boy's holiday. You'll feel much better once you've had a laugh or two. Because who doesn't enjoy laughter, dear readers? HO! HO! HO!!

If you've read the last post; you now have a bit of background and insight into a portion of my life. As a single parent with no money, who was a huge failure at picking out the perfect holiday tree. I've learned my lesson. This post is all about how the gifts that were to magically appear under the tree nearly didn't....

My son always had a knack for knowing exactly where to find his gifts. I've no idea where he might have gotten that from! The rental house really didn't have any good hiding places, no garage, and I certainly wasn't going to attempt borrowing and sneaking in a ladder. Only so I could climb up and hide what meager amount of presents I could provide in the attic. Especially in light of the fact, I would have to do so while he was asleep; and the tiny hole cut into the ceiling was right outside my son's bedroom door.

How would I have explained that one? My young son getting up to go to the bathroom and there's mom, standing on a ladder, shocked look upon her face; trying to think up some reason as to why on earth she's putting stuff into the attic. He would have wanted to know what was in the bag. He would have wanted to SEE what was in the bag. The jig would have been up; no doubt about it. I didn't want to be the one to further break his heart by telling him about Santa. Especially, since Santa only gave one or two presents since that's all Santa could afford. Santa was going through a bit of a rough patch at that time.

So what did Santa do? She locked the presents into the trunk of her car. And that's where it all fell apart...

As mentioned previously; I was an exhausted and somewhat overwhelmed working mom at that time. Therefore; I really hadn't had time to find a way to wrap what little there was. That year, as Christmas Eve arrived; I realized the gifts were still sitting in the locked trunk of my car. Not a problem. I shall stealthily bring them indoors, wrap them as quickly as possible; then place them quickly under the tree.

Wrong again.

We had some snow that year as we generally do. The snow had melted just enough so that the water could seep down into, and around the trunk seals; thereby turning the trunk of my car into a veritable fortress. I turned the key; yet the trunk wouldn't open. I tried pulling it open, not realizing it was frozen shut. So; I got out the flashlight as it's 10:30 PM or so and dark outside. The carport had a light, but it wasn't enough. With the flashlight, I managed to see a bit of the ice that was holding Christmas hostage.

So, I did what any self-respecting woman would do. I got out the blow dryer and an extension cord. I put it on high heat, hoping it would quickly thaw the seal. After standing out in the cold for well over half an hour, looking idiotic as I blow dried my car on Christmas Eve; I became more frantic and was beginning to believe I was "scrooged."

I would be there until the spring thaw at the rate I was going, and would more than likely have passed away from hypothermia by Christmas morning. Lovely. My child wakes, expecting to find a gift or two under the tree and finds his mama in the carport, blue, stiff and cold; blow dryer in hand. Clearly this is not the gift I want to give my child for Christmas!

So; what to do? I know; I'll call dad! But wait... it's now nearly midnight and I don't want to awaken both my parents. Yet; I don't want to disappoint my son. So, after weighing the options; I pick up the phone and make the call.

Once again, I explain my quandary to my father. I explain I can't get the trunk open, I've tried and tried, I even used the hair dryer and it still wasn't opening. I am literally near tears and can’t think straight. I am way past using any form of common sense. THERE WOULD BE NO CHRISTMAS!

My dad calmly "talked me off the ledge" and told me to get out a couple of the largest pots I had on hand, heat the water until it got hot, take them out and pour the water around the seals. Then I'd be able to open up the trunk, remove and wrap the gifts; thereby saving Christmas.

Suffice it to say; sometimes father's do know best. It worked like a charm.

And the mere fact I'm highly intuitive; doesn't mean I know everything. Nor does it preclude me from failing to use common sense during moments of parental crisis.

Clearly; I should have borrowed that ladder, after all.

Branching Out

2010-12-16T07:29:00.000-06:00

Sit back, my dear readers; have a sip of eggnog or whatever suits your fancy, while I regale you with a story from the ghosts of Christmases past. Prop your feet up, have a giggle or two if you like; knowing we all have holidays that go awry...

When my son was very small; I divorced and began the fun-filled life of single parenting. The joys and pain of single parenting is an entire blog series in and of itself. A branch of the US military has the motto: "The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love. " Parenting in tandem is difficult; but single parenting?

Single Parenting is a lot like that branch of the military; especially around the holidays...

First a bit of background, so you'll understand:

When I first divorced, I had no job. I was a stay at home mom. With the help of family, we managed. Once I found a job; we moved to a place I could afford to rent. I was dependent upon others for help. My parents let me borrow a car. I worked my fingers to the bone along with a friend to clean the place up a bit so it would be a little nicer. My dad helped me install a ceiling fan in the living room; as there was no air conditioning. All this and so much more. All so I could give my young son a decent home. Not to mention the fact I had just started a new job, so everything was being done evenings and weekends; when I wasn't parenting, hauling our clothes to the laundromat, playing with my child, and trying at times to figure out where our next meal would come from. I was always teetering on the edge of collapsing in exhaustion.

It was truly the hardest job I've ever loved; and my heart broke for my son. He was used to a mother who had been home with him; this was no longer the case.

Now that you have an abbreviated view of the background: Here is the story of the Christmas past that almost wasn't....

By the time my son was six or seven; I was making enough money, I was able to afford a tree rather than borrow one. I was able to finally to buy a vehicle of my own. I was still purchasing his gifts at the local dollar store. Gifts such as plastic toys, and the big gift? A five dollar blanket for his bed.

That year; a local charity was selling Christmas trees for $25.00 which was a lot of money for me. But the money was going directly to help others; so I decided it was money well spent. So off we go; my young son's eyes shining with delight at not only having a real tree, but helping to pick it out. I'll never forget his excitement that evening as we bundled up, drove the few blocks to pick out our tree.

We arrived, he carefully looked at each and every tree in the small lot; looking for the best and most beautiful tree since they were all the same price. He selected a tall pine. It was perfectly shaped, full of lush green needles; a beautiful tree with nary a bare spot to be found. Truly a beautiful tree from every angle. He has an eye for beauty which explains why he married his high school sweetheart; who is beautiful inside and out.

The gentleman at the lot; helped us to place the tree into the trunk of the car and used twine to help keep the trunk lid from flapping up and down, so as not to damage the tree. He knew how proud and excited this child had been; selecting it. We drove the few blocks, I wrangled the seven foot tall tree out of the trunk only to find it wasn't the tree. When I called, the man apologetically said, "Bring it back and I'll replace it with his tree. Thankfully; we only lived a few blocks. The tree was exchanged; once having been wrangled back into the trunk.

By the time the correct tree was out of the trunk, given a fresh cut off the bottom; so it would absorb water and remain lovely, then placed into the cheapest stand I could find... the floor was full of needles and the tree? Well, the tree wouldn't stand tall. It wanted to fall over; no matter what I did. I thought perhaps I had made a crooked cut. By this time; it was far past my son's bedtime and he had school the next day. So I promised that come morning; his tree would be awaiting him. We would decorate the next night. Reluctantly and disappointedly; he went to bed.

I dragged it back outside. I was determined I would have that tree ready for him, just as promised. I trimmed more branches, and fresh cut the bottom with my used hand saw I had borrowed from a neighbor.

The tree is replaced in the corner; yet it's still not straight. Back outdoors we both go. Only this time? I had the foresight to take the stand with me, in order to ensure it would be stable BEFORE I took it back inside. By the time we were both back inside, it was nearly midnight. The tree was standing, the needles were swept up, I was cold, exhausted, and ready for bed. The tree was now six foot tall, but it was standing. Off to bed I went. Apparently; I was so tired I slept hard.

When we walked into the living room the next morning? The tree was lying on it's side, water spilled all across the hardwood floor I had spent many hours on; making it look a bit more decent. Clearly the tree was tired, as well; if it felt the need to spend the night 'sleeping' on the floor. Out the door the tree goes. Again. The water was hastily mopped up, and out the door we go in a rush; now that we're running late. After work and picking him up at the sitter's; we go home and begin working on the tree. The tired tree that simply refused to stand. "Why? Why, tree; would you be so insensitive as to disappoint a small boy who wanted you so much?"

We eventually get the tree back inside. It is now just under five foot tall and at least that in diameter at the bottom. Not to mention, it is still precariously wobbly, not wishing to stand alone. I knew I had done everything humanly possible and then some; everything except for to pick up the phone. So I did exactly that. I called my dad and explained the problem. He asked if I had checked the trunk of the tree. Of course not. Why would I check the trunk? So while I have him on the phone I peer through the lush needles and describe the ziggedy-zagged trunk. He calmly explained that in order for a tree to be stable; the trunk must be straight. Keep in mind this is before the days of adjustable, rotating stands with wide bases.

So; out to the curb goes the sad, tired, little tree two weeks before Christmas. To slumber in the front yard of our little rental house. And my son and I; well, we went in search of another tree. A tree that would stand proud, tall, would happily spend time and have no desire to disappoint my child. Just as I was trying to do the very same thing.

Oh, certainly; that tree was not perfect, but clearly neither am I. But as it turns out... it was the perfect tree after all!

'Tis The Season

2010-12-11T07:11:00.001-06:00

In case you've not noticed by now; I am just like everyone else; as multi-faceted as a beautifully cut gemstone. Yet; I'm still what I would consider "A diamond in the rough." Always believing that I could be a better human being with a bit more polish. Perhaps; I could even have been "cut" a bit better; although I shine; just as we all do.

I am also; just like everyone else. A contradiction of terms, but for the most part; I try to be as caring, loving, and empathetic as possible. Don't get me wrong; it's not always easy. But working towards being an even better being is worth every bit of it. Many times I feel as though I was born in the wrong place, at the wrong time; yet I know that's not the case at all.

I've never been a very creative person, am not the most graceful woman; yet I LOVE art and music. I was in band all through school and loved art classes. I never considered myself to be great, but I did my very best and enjoyed it; especially pottery. The beauty of pottery? If you throw something on the wheel and you don't like it? You squish it and start over again.

As I mentioned; I love all music; everything from Motown to reggae to Japanese, Taiwanese, and the resonance of African drumming. But I especially like the music of the Beatles. I love their music, both collectively as a group... and value the contributions of each individual. I also love the music of each after they parted ways. Each had something to contribute and each are extremely talented. Each had something to "bring to the table" as musicians, thinkers, and I've always thought they were vastly ahead of their time. This has proven to be true, as the music of the group; as well as each member, is still respected, valued and is considered timeless. The songs, the energy, and the deeper meaning: I completely understand and always have. It isn't superficial. There is deeper meaning to much of the music and lyrics.

In the past few years; I've decided to get back to finding a creative outlet. I "car dance" and sing, I dance around the house. I'm attempting gardening and cooking, although I've never been very good at either. But I remember as a child playing with chalk. So I decided I would play with chalk. It is wonderful, serene, and if you don't like it; you can either wash it off with a hose or wait for it to wash away on it's own. Personally; I prefer to just leave it as is.

A few nights ago; on December 8th to be exact, my stage "went dark." For any Beatle fan and/or Lennon fan; be it John, Yoko, Sean, or Julian the date has great meaning; especially for the immediate family. Oh, I know that when the physical body ceases to exist; the spiritual continues. Yet? As humans, we remember special dates; and even the most enlightened miss their loved ones. So while my stage was dark; I went out into the bitter cold, the snow, and the wind.... and I played with chalk. I chalked for Love. I chalked for Peace. I chalked for both in combination... all by candlelight. For me, it was sheer pristine beauty and pure Love. For one day? I fervently wish that we all live in love in peace, with love for one another, and that not one person goes without a basic need. Things like food, clean water, shelter, security, and especially love. For love is real and it's also a basic necessity; in addition to having deeper meaning. In order for us to have peace; first me must truly love one another. Not superficial love; but love that stems from accepting another unconditionally and loving that person for who and what they are. No matter what.

I spent most of the night, either outside; or inside with candles still burning; thinking of all those around the world who were remembering John Lennon, grieving him, and both; especially those closest to him and loved him best. The next morning after about two hours sleep; I awoke. The sun hadn't yet risen, and it was still. Silence; pure silence... so I slipped out the door quietly... coat on and colored sidewalk chalk in hand. I chalked more. For the new day and for the future; thankfully and lovingly. Again; it was pristine silence, and the sunrise to the east was radiant with reds, oranges, and after returning indoors; I watched as a great orange ball rose over the horizon. It was beautiful, to say the least.

Tonight; after having finished a full day; I sat watching a beautifully moving music DVD while getting my nails painted. I was unable to read the language and the loving, gentle people explained exactly what the moving music was about. One of them was about war and the devastation left behind. Another was about a child who lived in abject poverty who's mother sent him away from his village so he would have a better future; only to return home and find his mother had passed; unbeknownst to this gentleman with a beautiful, soulful voice

After two more quick errands; I had dinner with my husband at a local Vietnamese restaurant. Upon returning home; I decided to have a glass of Irish cider. As I sat drinking it; I decided while the house was silent; I would put up a few holiday decorations. While most would decorate with a glass of eggnog with "traditional" music such as Bing Crosby or other holiday classics; I drank my hard cider, listened to the music I love music, dancing around the house while my husband and animals slept.

Why might you ask?? Because whatever your beliefs; it's truly about living together in love and peace. Especially, this time of year. People get caught up in commercialism and forget the deeper meaning. PEACE. And what better to remember peace at this time of year, than to celebrate. Celebrate in whatever way you love; whether some may consider it odd. Because when it comes right down to it? No matter what: someone will consider you "different" and it doesn't matter. Wish them Peace and Love. Always.

So as you either prepare to celebrate or are already celebrating, if you do indeed celebrate; I wish you LOVE and Peace . Today and every day.... Remember Love. Remember Peace.

Introspection

2010-12-05T19:11:00.001-06:00

Heading towards a new calendar year always tends to put me into a reflective mood. Just as water and pristine white snow reflect the rays of the sun and the moon, be it a droplet or ocean at a time; I, too reflect. Since Halloween has flown past; along with the entire month of November including the often referred to holiday, Thanksgiving; or what I like to refer to as a day to be extra thankful.

That said; the time between Halloween and the beginning of the New Year are so very difficult for many. Why? We all have emotions. Emotion is the expression of how we feel inside. For some it is quite easy to express feeling; while for others it is far more difficult, for whatever reason. I respect and honor every person's right to his/her feelings.

Yet; nearly all feel emotion, at least to some extent. We feel joy, pain, sorrow, insecurity, anger, emotional hurt, happiness, empathy, just to name a few. I experience every single one of these and am not ashamed to admit it.

I know in my heart that there are many people are hurting inside; be it because they are missing someone who is not with them, they are struggling to make ends meet, or they are feeling overwhelmed for whatever reason.

WE... all feel this way, I assure you: myself included.

This time of year is especially difficult for so many around the world. It's a celebratory season for most everyone on the surface of this earth, as well as a time for remembrance. For many; there will be remembrances of times they'd rather not remember. Memories of pain. Memories of hardship. Memories of guilt. Memories of shame. I have memories of all these; as it is what makes us all unique in each and every way. Beauty resides within the unique individuality of each and every one; as well as every thing.

Someone very close to me suggested that to be share myself so openly; especially at this time of year is sad and depressing; or could be considered as such. I; tend to feel quite the opposite. For I know there are others out there who've either been in that place and/or still are. And perhaps; even if that person doesn't ever read or hear about my story? Perhaps someone else will and know they're not alone.

Vulnerability does not make one sad, depressing, or anything else for that matter. There is no shame nor sorrow in feeling vulnerable. It simply make one unique, individual, beautiful. No more. No less. For like a beautiful snowflake or a a single droplet that falls; you are honestly, truly beautiful and unique... individual, vulnerable; yet: perfectly lovely.

...Myself, my life, my experiences; wishing that by doing so I will have let someone somewhere know; TRULY know that someone is thinking of you right at this moment. That someone?

Me. Who cares for and about YOU....

Giving Thanks

2010-11-23T03:11:00.003-06:00

One month ago today? I standing on the beach in Nags Head, North Carolina in the United States. As my husband and I were in a beach cottage with no internet cottage; I had no internet connection.

On the following day; as a result... I was unable to participate officially as part of "Humanity's Team."

So, instead; I spent time alone on the beach in silent contemplation and silent meditation.

After I finished; I moved over towards the front of the cottage.

My husband was taking photos; and the photo you see here....

Is myself, a member of humanity; part of a global community who is thankful and grateful for so much.

Yet; as a member of a global community; I realize that not everyone in the world celebrates our official day for giving thanks. We call it Thanksgiving.

This photo is my way of giving thanks for each and every person on this planet.

I am thankful. Please, be thankful as well for one thing.

Each day you are here.

And as I promised: this was but one of the few pictures I took, alone on the beach... contemplating how connected we all truly are:

No Pain? No gain!

2010-11-18T19:47:00.002-06:00

I have been freed from bondage and it wasn't even necessary to chew my arm off to be released from captivity. All it took was a trip to see the "bone doctor" who mentioned the cursed "S" word; and I do not mean "shit." Of course, during the visit I nearly began screaming obscenities during the somewhat sadististic exam. It hurt like hell. I'm sure it was necessary; but still, the pain was horrific. I was beginning to regret the decision to chew off the injured limb.

During the recovery portion of the "I'm about to pass out from the pain" exam and subsequent need to lie down and/or throw up; while actually lying down with a wet towel on the back of my neck given to me by the aforementioned "sadist" we decided to try a little physical therapy first. This was during a discussion of the various options. They are clearly caring people who are willing to listen; that or they felt badly for having hurt me. I believe it was a bit of both.

OK. I'm free; what more do I want? Sign me up!! Yes, yes... I clearly understand it will not be easy. Yes, I understand it will hurt. Yes, I understand you have your doubts.
Whatever... I AM FREE!!!! Sign me up while I am still giddy with freedom and wooziness.

Happily? The "sadist" was able to get me in the very same day. Hooray! I am all giddy with love this person!

Err... not so fast:

Physical therapy is the polite way of saying, "If you think you hurt now? Wait until I'm finished with you."

Not only did the orthopedic people warn me, but a friend who'd had therapy forewarned me.
She clearly insists that physical therapists are evil people and are seated at the left hand of Satan.
This is not the first time I've heard therapy can hurt like hell.

OK. So off to therapist:

To the credit of the therapist, she gave fair warning:

One of her first therapeutic tasks; was to set about scraping into the flesh of my already inflamed and rage-filled shoulder with something.

Yes; my shoulder is rage-filled. It doesn't like pain and anything that makes it hurt worse? Makes it angry. Thus? My shoulder is rage-filled.
She assured me it would help. Indeed. It helped bruise my inflamed, rage-filled shoulder.

Again... I was given fair warning; right about the time she was finishing digging her way to China via my shoulder. She is a master at both the art of distraction and telling you of the repercussions. After the fact.

Next, I was put through a variety of exercises that I'm told are designed to help. At nearly 15 minutes into it; I was rethinking the whole of idea of chewing off my arm for the second time within six hours. It was sounding better by the minute.

Finally, after an hour and a half of therapy; I was allowed to go on my merry little way, with the promise that I would do the home exercises given to me three times a day and return next week for more... umm: therapy.

So, after departing my intensive therapy with "Satan's handmaiden" who I truly liked, despite her sadistic tendencies; I returned home. While getting ready for bed, I did notice the visible bruising. Fortunately? I have an essential oil blend to help take care of that problem; and so far, it's done a fabulous job. I am a firm believer in integrative medicine; in case you don't know by now. I have an entire "tool box" with which to work.

So far, I have done my exercises today; twice, in fact. In addition, I have made the decision that housework, as hateful as it is; can also be good therapy. Especially with three dogs, one husband, and no vacuuming or dusting in the last two weeks. Indeed; there is currently LOTS of therapy to be done around here.

I've also decided that cleaning up dog poop in the back yard is also therapeutic. This is one of the things my husband does and while little dogs leave little poo? Large dogs leave large poo that little dogs like to eat. Regardless, in order to help out my husband who's been helping me for the last two weeks; I decided turn-about is fair play.

And while my shoulder and I know that we will be seeing "Satan's Handmaiden" again next week? We are hopeful that she will be happy with the progress made in such a short amount of time.

"No Comment"

2010-11-10T13:11:00.001-06:00

In case you haven't noticed; I've been very quiet recently when it comes to blogging, commenting, and tweeting. The fact of the matter is my own stupidity is holding me hostage. The tale is sad, long, and shamefully idiotic. Therefore, I will leave out the details; yet suffice it to say my dominant arm has been immobile for several days and my understanding is the damage is "quite significant" as in: DO. NOT. MOVE. YOUR. ARM.... PERIOD!!

So, all typing is via the "hunt and peck method" with my other hand. I've plenty of time to read. But, writing is difficult. I'm also finding that things so many of us might take for granted; simple things like brushing one's teeth? Not so easy.

Yes; I am still frustrated, irritated, and feeling like quite the idiot. I know understand WHY animals caught in traps would quite willingly chew off the injured limb if for no other reason than to escape the pain. There have been more moments like that recently than I care to count. Yet, still...

I AM GRATEFUL. Yes, people. You heard me.

I am grateful... I have an extra arm.
I am grateful... I have family and friends whom I all love, have been and will be here for me; and that I'm not alone in this world.
I am grateful... I have transportation, it's has an automatic shift, and that I can get myself to appointments.
I am grateful... I have access to medical care.
I am grateful... I have clothing that will accommodate my temporary needs.
I am grateful... I have a roof over my head and a bed.
I am grateful... I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and water.
I am grateful... I can read.

I am grateful, indeed extremely grateful. For this... and so very much more.

So people? Keep writing. And I? While I may not comment often? Will be reading during my "captivity."

Unless, of course; I indeed decide to go ahead and chew off my arm.
Although, I don't see that as a well-thought out plan.
But the whole visual makes me laugh; and laughter... one more thing for which I am grateful!

Trippin'

2010-11-04T12:27:00.000-05:00

For over two and a half weeks I've been "trippin." No, illicit drugs weren't involved; I was on vacation, driving, with my husband. We are opposite in so many ways and being together in a vehicle for hours on end is always interesting; to say the least. Where he is very much the planner and linear thinker... I am more of a free spirit. I generally prefer to simply go with the flow and be pleasantly surprised and delighted by whatever the day brings. A friend of mine noticed this a while back when the three of us went for pizza. As they ate their pizza row by row; I meandered through mine, taking a somewhat circuitous route.

As my husband prefers not to be stuck somewhere without a room, the drive was of course... planned. Or at least sketched out so we'd have reservations. Yet, this didn't stop the surprises from happening along the way.

Instead of breaking the sixteen hour journey into two days; we broke it into three, thinking we'd spend a little extra time in the mountains. Having grown up in the middle of the windswept prairie, listening to corn grow, I never imagined I'd like mountains until we moved to North Carolina. The first time we drove up into the Blue Ridge Mountains... it was love at first site. I love

During our first overnight stay in a mountain town in West Virginia, we experienced strange things at the motel we were staying. By "we" I am not talking about my husband and I. My husband didn't experience a thing. However I did, and when talking to the desk clerk about it the next morning; she and I both witnessed odd things during our conversation. It would appear that this innocuous chain motel has some paranormal activity on the second floor.

The second day of our drive took us down into North Carolina and near the Blue Ridge Parkway. As my husband drove, I took in the smells, the dappled shade, the winding roads where I could be are taken by surprise; anticipating what was around the next curve of the shaded road. I admired the mountain streams strewn with rocks and small rapids that are sometimes followed alongside. As we journeyed towards our destination that evening, we discovered that a mile down the road from our hotel was a vineyard. In case you are unaware North Carolina is chalk-full of vineyards, and one of my favorite pastimes while living in the Piedmont area was to sample the delights of the various wineries close to home.

After a few quick tastings, we headed on to the hotel. I noticed I was having issues with my cell phone and as I had a phone reading scheduled with a client; I grew frantic. At first, I thought perhaps it might have to do with the reception inside the building. I ran downstairs with my phone in hand as well as my husband's. I ended up sitting outside in the vehicle, using his phone for the purposes of conducting business. One of the great things about readings is the fact that I can do them anywhere; but I have to admit that sitting in the car of a hotel parking lot was a first for me.

After I was finished, I traipsed back upstairs. I was still in a quandary about the fact that my phone wasn't working, even in the car and suggested we head downstairs in search of food; or perhaps a glass of wine before turning in for the night. As we sat, conversing with some of the others gathered to watch a college football game (my husband was watching, I was conversing); the woman behind the bar got a call from the front desk. Apparently, the fire alarm had activated. So while the desk person went to check out the situation, we all sat tight; speculating and pretty much deciding it was nothing more than a false alarm. That is until, the alarm sounded.

There was a report of smoke on the fourth floor, our floor; and the building was evacuated. As we stood outside, not one; but four fire trucks came roaring up to the hotel. The road was blocked to all traffic and by this time we could all smell the smoke. The firemen all trooped into the hotel in full gear as we all stood about engaged in conversation and wondering what had happened. Eventually, the all clear was given and we were all allowed back inside. It turned out that someone had left popcorn in a microwave, it had burned so badly that it had not only set off the smoke detectors.

The next morning, as we headed on to our final destination; we were required to make a stop at the nearest place to have my year-old phone checked. It turns out that the microphone wasn't working, something they'd only seen happen once before. A fluke, they said; a fluke that could only happen to me, on vacation, and on a phone that I use for business. So, unplanned; I was forced to get a new phone rather than wait for them to mail a replacement.

Eventually, we did reach the beach; a little later than planned. Not that it really mattered, as it certainly wasn't going anywhere. It was as beautiful as always. Our time there was lovely, the weather couldn't have been any better, and the full moon shining over the ocean was breathtaking as always.

But the trip there? Although it was planned out... was full of twists, turns, and surprises.

Gracie's Ghost

2010-10-28T18:38:00.000-05:00

Author's note: this is a pre-scheduled post. As many of my readers know; I am currently on the east coast; revisiting the "Graveyard of the Atlantic" enjoying the view. That said, I will still respond to comments... Happy Halloween!

There is a beautiful Bed and Breakfast in Galveston, TX where I love to stay. It is well maintained, beautifully decorated, owned and operated by the most gracious innkeeper I've ever met. Her name is Barb, and she named her Bed &Breakfast after her sweet blond cocker spaniel; Gracie. The B&B is named Grace Manor; and both Barb and Gracie live there; yet they aren't the only residents that reside within this most elegant inns of Galveston....

Several years ago, before my son and daughter-in-law purchased their first home; they lived down in the area know as "The Strand." More about that at a different time...

As "the kids" lived in an apartment, and we hate to impose on them all the time; I asked my son for recommendations for places to stay, either within walking distance or with easy access. The parking downtown is a horror story; in and of itself. So the two of them went to work; getting ideas of a few places we could stay. One of the places NOT on the list? Grace Manor. I happened run across it while looking at the offerings they had suggested. At once, I knew that I wanted to stay there. In fact; I knew exactly in which room I wanted to stay...

I called to place the reservation, and after speaking with the lovely voice at the other end of the line, I inadvertently blurted out the question, "Do you have a ghost, by chance?" I could clearly hear the stunned surprise in her voice as she replied, "No. What makes you ask that question?" Or something along those lines anyway. I proceeded to explain to her that many times, I can simply look at a photo and pick up on "things" that happen or have happened in the past. She found this intriguing and asked what I "saw." So I proceeded to tell her about the light bulbs that were too high up to be loosened by human hands, the books that had been moved out of place, some of the other unexplainable happenings, as well as to tell her there was more than one there, yet the most predominant one was a woman. A woman in the room I had just booked. We talked for an hour, and when we hung up; she said she was looking forward to our stay. Yet, she never at any time admitted having any strange events happening.

The day came for us to check in. We walked into the entry of the lovely historic home built in 1905, shortly after the hurricane of 1900. My husband and I were greeted by Barb; a gracious, welcoming blond woman and her little cocker spaniel. As the greetings and introductions took place; Barb looked at me, laughed, and confessed I had been right. At that time, not many; with exception of close friends knew of the activities that went on in her home. She proceeded to tell me that after we'd hung up the phone that day, she had called everyone who knew; swearing that one of them knew me, had called me, and had me say all those things to her. Of course, everyone truthfully denied having done so.

The home had been investigated by a paranormal research group out of Houston in the past, and appeared on Court TV on Halloween several years ago. My husband and I were staying at the time, and were present for the premiere showing. Barb was having a costume party; I went dressed as a 1980's deceased prom queen escorted by my date... also deceased. This is a still of a thermal scan they caught in the empty bedroom where we stayed that first time. Barb had emailed it to me before the show aired:

Since that first visit, we've stayed many times at Barb's home, and she's sent me to visit other friends of hers; to see what impressions I can give, which I'm always happy to do. We've also become friends. The real reason to stay there is not the paranormal residents; but for the beauty and the graciousness of the home... and Barb. Did I mention she makes THE best breakfast that included dessert? She does, indeed.

Graveyard of The Atlantic

2010-10-14T14:38:00.000-05:00

Very soon I will be headed back to a place I lived for a while; and still strongly connect with; the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The Outer Banks is filled with history, shipwrecks, pirate history, lore, and true stories of paranormal experiences and haunting. The Atlantic along the coastline of the area is called "The Graveyard of The Atlantic" for good reason.

During the years we lived there; I had several experiences of my own; one which I recall quite well....

My husband and I volunteered for a time at the Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge. Our job; along with other volunteers... was to battle mosquitoes, rain, windy conditions, and even cold; all to stand watch over the nests of baby sea turtles. I say cold because when you are sitting on a desolate beach in October and the wind is blowing out of the north east; the wind bites into your skin and takes your breath away.

One time while on guard with two other, both friends of ours; a strange occurrence happened. While my husband kept silent watch on the dark, deserted beach; my two friends and I headed towards the water. Standing there, with our toes in the wet, coarse sand we sensed a change in the atmosphere. Something that we couldn't quite explain, except to say it was a very eerie feeling. We looked out into the darkness of the water, and we what appeared to be faint lights; and I could see what appeared to be the silhouette of what I would call an "old-timey ship."

As we stood there, watching, discussing what the phenomena could be; the air became even more eerie; and almost uncomfortable. It took on a chill; and many would have felt the hair raise on the back of the neck. Knowing the shoals are very shallow and the coastline was treacherous; could this be a ghost ship? Could it be something else? What we knew that it wasn't... a real ship. There are no ships built like an old, wooden, three mast schooner out sailing at 10:30 PM.

This time, I will be there during a full moon. Watching a moonrise over the water is a sight I dearly miss. While I stand on the beach and watch the moon rise; I will look out to see and look again; taking inventory for what may or may not be, remains unseen and unexplained.

The Car of Doom

2010-10-06T10:50:00.000-05:00

My husband knows of my distaste for white cars. I even wrote about Why I Dislike White Cars back in July. We even took the car on a road trip to visit friends and I even wrote about How I Outsmarted Death in the white car of doom.

He was on his way home from work when a coed crossed an extremely busy street without seeming to look. The man in the pickup truck slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting her and my husband ended up partially under the truck. There was also a similar accident involving two vehicles headed the opposite direction.

It seems as though he will be "living the dream" and following his passion for car shopping. This time? There WILL be no white vehicles. Why?? This should explain it all....

It doesn't really look so bad; does it?

Just a little damage to the front end and the hood; right?

And maybe a little bit of damage under the hood, too. Surely, only minor repairs are needed.

When I had the premonitory dream back in July, he promised he'd be careful; and he was... yet accidents happen. He called when it happened, told me he was OK; but there had been an accident and he may need me to come and get him. He was able to drive the car home. Barely.

When he got home, I made certain he was all right. Nothing was injured except maybe his pride, as he's a very safe driver and and made a promise to me to be extra careful.

I went out and took one look at the car and declared it "totalled." Surely, not; he tells me. "It's only a couple thousand dollars worth of damage; they'll have it fixed and it'll be as good as new." he says. I walk away, shaking my head mumbling, "We'll see..."

Yesterday, the body shop took these photos. The car? A totaled wreck.

Thankfully; no one was injured. That girl has no idea how fortunate she was, since she could have been badly injured or worse.

The cars can be replaced. People; however... can not.

Despite the fact he doesn't bother to listen? I'm thrilled he's OK... but not so thrilled he's now on the hunt. Again.

The Ultimate Gift

2010-10-03T00:44:00.000-05:00

Today while I was busy catching up on business; my husband was out following his passion. His passion is looking at cars. Driving car lots, dreaming of the perfect car and all the cars he'd love to have. Just as many women love to wander through the shoe department or shop for handbags and clothing; my husband dreams of the perfect car. It is the thrill of the hunt that draws him.

He ended up near where his family live. Last night, before bed; I had a sense of urgency that I needed to go to their home; as soon as possible. The sense that all was not well. I woke him during the night to tell him that I wanted to go to my in-laws; who were to be gone Saturday. The urgency had nothing to do with my in-laws, per se; yet rather it had to do with their dog.

You see; they are animal lovers, just as so many are. They've owned, adopted, and loved many dogs; as well as cats. Fairly recently; very near the time that my dog was so ill from his multiple cancers; my mother-in-law had to take their dog and cat to the vet. Both were quite old, had been well loved, but it was time for the inevitable. My mother-in-law is a soft; yet strong person. My father-in-law is strong, as well; yet in a different way. You see, just like so many others; he can't bear the thought of losing a beloved animal. So my tender, yet strong mother-in-law does what is what I consider to be a kindness... a gift of love. While we know what is inevitable; we still grieve.

So tonight; I had my husband take me down to visit for a short while. A visit to his parents; yes... but also to their dog. Another Vizsla who is the aunt to my dog no longer here. A dog; who used to be mine before she was theirs. A dog, who they so lovingly took in when we had four large dogs and were in process of moving out of state. A dog who was to be a companion to their aging Brittany Spaniel until it was time for her to leave her earthly body.

Their Vizsla, formerly mine; is ill. She's always had allergies, she's elderly, now diabetic, and having difficulty in her hindquarters. I remember that dog as a pup. A well-behaved pup; the exact opposite of the wild" beautiful boy; TJ. This lovely dog is the aunt of TJ, yet they are completely opposite in personality. I wanted to go and see her; in case the time is near. I wanted to say "What a good dog you were and are, how much love you've brought to all of us, how much your mom and dad (my in-laws); will miss you and grieve for you when the time comes. I wanted to be certain I had said my good-byes; and explain to you how much joy you've brought to us all." Just in case I don't get another chance beforehand.

In addition to all this; I wanted to be certain my in-laws were going to be OK. To let them know, that even when your animal has been diagnosed as terminally ill and you are well aware of the outcome... you still grieve. I wanted to let them know that all would be OK, in the greater scheme of things. For when the time comes; they WILL grieve. I will grieve with them.

As we were leaving, I gave my mother-in-law a hug and told her that when the time arrives; I will be there for her and with her if she'd like. For I know she is a wonderful "pet mom." And as I gave her a hug, I held the tears in check the best I could just as she did. Because you see...

The ultimate gift of love to a pet is a difficult gift to give; and one that no pet owner ever wants to do; especially on their own. Yet, by the same token; it is the ultimate act of kindness depending on the circumstances.

Much love, empathy, and strength to all who are faced with such tough decisions; be it over a beloved pet or a beloved person. Grief is grief. Regardless of who or what we grieve.

Love and Peace,

Brenda

Lemp Mansion

2010-09-29T20:00:00.001-05:00

I've stayed at Lemp Mansion on many occasions; with and without my husband; once I stayed in the mansion... alone. I suppose I wasn't completely alone. You see; one is never alone at this hauntingly beautiful mansion. It is filled with beauty, yet filled with sadness.

My husband used to live and work in the St. Louis area while going to school. He knew all about Lemp Mansion. I didn't. He decided one time to surprise me with a stay at a B&B on a trip to St. Louis. Even before we drove into the parking lot; I could sense the energy that resides in this lovely place. Upon entering the building the energy became even more palpable. The sense of sadness, despair, grief; and yes: even the spirits of those still there. This was several years ago when they had four guest rooms. The attic was unfinished; except for the room at the top of the narrow, winding staircase. This was the room I slept in the time I stayed alone in the house.

Before the attic was renovated, I had spent a night in all four rooms. I got to know Betsy Belanger a little; the official historian and "resident" psychic. I also met the owners, as well as the staff. All wonderful people, by the way.

At that time; the rooms were left open and unlocked, and I was left to wander about as I pleased; and wander I did. Despite many visits to this "lively" place, which always provided paranormal experiences; the most profound experience was one that would drive most out of the house in the middle of the night. It happened during a trip back from North Carolina. It happened in the Lavender Suite; where we had stayed before.....

I was suffering from a horrible headache. It was the middle of the night; and as always, I was aware of a presence at the side of my bed. I awoke to find a man in dark pants, a white shirt with tall collar, and short dark hair; sitting on the bed next to me. This was before my Lasix surgery, and I wasn't able to make out his face. Being half asleep; I thought perhaps it might be my husband, as the gentleman asked "Are you OK?" The voice wasn't familiar to me; yet I replied that I was fine and started to drift back off to sleep. Then it dawned on me that my husband wouldn't be fully dressed in the wee hours of the morning. Sure, enough; he was sound asleep on the other side of the bed. The gentleman was gone.

The next night, again I sensed someone in the room. I awoke to find the same man sitting in the middle of the bed between my husband and myself. He was dressed in the same attire as the previous night. He sat there; head turned towards me, legs outstretched on the bed. I asked the gentleman what if there was something he needed. His reply, "Nothing. Just checking." Then his rigid back lay straight back towards the bed and he disappeared. Totally and completely disappeared into the bed itself. My husband was completely unaware of the visitor on both nights.

On a subsequent stay on a night when we were able to take the "ghost" tour. Having already told Betsy of the gentleman, she invited me to share my experience with the rest of the group. I was happy to do so. At that time, there were no infrared cameras, K-2 meters, electromagnetic detectors. The attic was still unfinished, and the last stop on the tour was the attic itself. I already knew where the small boy liked to hide, having already been there. Alone; yet not. In total darkness you could see darker shadows moving about. Many felt things and some were unnerved. As Betsy asked if the little boy was with us; he came out of the closet where he would hide. As I was very near to the closet; myself and the gentleman co-leading the tour (also psychic) sensed his presence. The nervousness, the shyness, the skittish energy of a boy lost and alone. A child who wished to be mothered and who had been hidden away due to his deformities. A child who had watched other children out of the windows under the eaves while he was alive; longing to play and belong.

Is Lemp mansion haunted? Definitely.
Is it beautiful? Hauntingly so.
Would I go back? I will certainly revisit Lemp again.

In fact; at the time this post is published? I will be revisiting vicariously; as TAPS airs their investigation of this hauntingly beautiful place on the SYFY channel.

A Joyful Heart; Pay it Forward

2010-09-29T09:45:00.000-05:00

This is an extra post. Not the post I had planned to write today; yet it's still a month for Peace. Love. Joy...

I look forward to a day when everyone coexists peacefully. An end to violence of any kind; a time when children don't have to live in fear. A day when women do not lead fearful lives. A day when no one has live fearfully or risk their lives; for any reason.

There are many who have been raped; not just women and children; but men as well. Many live in fear. Are afraid to come forward, for fear they will not be believed or their attacker will come back. No person should endure the pain and shame that is caused by rape. Thankfully; I never have. Yet, many have and there's a foundation named "A Joyful Heart Foundation" that helps end a disheartening backlog of tens of thousands of rape kits.

I look forward to A day when we all live as one. A globally, united community who live peacefully, not violently, and love; instead of hate.

My special wish for my own children, as well as my grandchild... my hope is that is that it happens soon.
I love you all very, very much. I would never want to see any of you endure such pain and sorrow. I do not wish for your childrens' children to endure pain. Because... I love you very, very much.

I love you all; and for anyone else who wishes to help; simply write a blog saying what kind of world you want for your children and post it here.

Lovingly, Peacefully, and a wish your heart is filled with Joy....

Brenda

Spiderwebs

2010-09-27T01:42:00.001-05:00

Life? Is a like a spiderweb. I've believed this to be true for so many years; Read through, and at the end you'll understand; especially my friends who are expecting the blog about our annual get-together to be titled something other than spiderwebs.

I spent what essentially was an entire weekend with friends, all female. My husband jokingly refers to it as "Vagapalooza." I find this hysterical, especially in light of the fact that's not what the weekend was about at all. He shares my love for music, love of laughter, and makes me laugh. Besides, any man who's willing to set his wife loose for a weekend with her childhood friends and fellow band geeks for a weekend; knowing he's likely to be awakened as we come home in the wee hours? Is a man to LOVE!

Coming from a small, midwestern, farming community; we all scattered to the winds and only recently did we reacquaint ourselves with one another. We have lamented many times the fact we weren't there to share in the break-ups, the weddings, the birth of children, the deaths of loved ones, the tears, the laughter, a shared cup of java, or a glass of wine.

None of that matters. What does matter? That at the perfect time, in the perfect place; not only are we reacquainted, we are expanding the group. That is also perfect, for most of the expansion wasn't planned; it simply happened. Synchronicity is what I call it, mainly because the word resonates with me. Someday I'll look up the meaning of the word. Many other friends refer to it as serendipity, chance, or coincidence. Regardless, here's just a smidgeon of the crazy, zany, synchronistic highlights of the weekend:

Thursday:
The friend who lives the furthest away rolled into town Thursday afternoon, Lanita brought with her gift bags for everyone, homemade Gumbo Ya-Ya, and wine. Thursday evening we all gathered at Renate's home for the kick-off festivities. Dinner, wine, laughter, a new and unexpected friend (not the one anticipated), gift giving, and a movie that started late. At 12:30 AM we ended up calling it a night. A great beginning to an even better weekend....

Friday:
Friday started bright and early; despite the early rain. There were the Homecoming parade preparations to be made. Yes, people; a group of 40 something women were living the dream! We former childhood friends and band geeks were going to enter the parade; in a VW beetle convertible covered by neon daisies. We even had our very own escort vehicle; courtesy of a son of the one of the ladies. We had a fantastic time! The crowd response; even before we rolled into the school parking lot, was overwhelming. Everyone from small children to the elderly were cheering, waving, clapping, taking photos, and smiling. Sure, we had a few odd looks, but who cares? Despite the fact we were the overwhelming crowd favorite, we didn't win. Instead, the school's future farmers won. That's as it should be here in farm country, I guess. Besides; I believe there were others involved in the final outcome. After the parade, we had a surprise reunion from a friend who was completely unexpected!

After the parade, we headed over to one of the small towns near and dear to all of us for lunch where we ran into two more friends from the old alma mater; one who we ran into last year. One we ran into last year at the game, the other I've not seen since high school.

In the evening was the big homecoming game. While we former band geeks have sat with the band the last two years; this year we ended up standing in a group, chatting and laughing. We did sit in the stands during halftime, in order better view and critique the half-time show. For a band newly reformed just a few years ago after a 20 year haitus, they are making great strides. The team won, but we didn't stay until the end. We had to get our pizza fix that brought back memories. More time with friends, only quieter.

Saturday:
Saturday, everyone got together at a local Starbucks for coffee and visiting while I headed out for a prior commitment to participate in a local Holistic/Spiritual Fair; where I had my own brush with "coincidence" having to do with a very special dog. My friend knew I couldn't be with them for most of the day. So, instead they stopped by the fair to say hello, before heading over to a locally owned eatery where they ran into another friend from school. Synchronicity scores yet again.

I headed over for late lunch/early dinner since they had waited two hours until I could arrive. After that, it was to a local cemetery for a photo shoot... for me.

After that, it was back to the home where the weekend began on Thursday. We sat around the large table, talking, laughing, eating, sharing a glass of wine (or not), sharing memories, discussing such esoteric and philosophical thoughts as synchronistic events. We also had two creative art projects; one of which involved a collaborative blog for Lanita's post today.

The weekend was filled with everything, including an ever expanding group. The missing moments don't matter. What matters is that whatever you choose to call it, in my case synchronicity; we are together and reconnected. All except the one local person who has a chronic illness and was too ill to attend. We missed you and we love you.

The most profound comment came from our wise, young escort who said to his mother: Mom, why aren't you spending time with your Ya-Ya's? There only in town once a year. The cooking and cleaning can wait. Go be with your friends.

Oh, yes; the Spiderwebs title: Like the delicately, dew-kissed threads that shimmer in early morning sunlight? A spiderweb that may have appeared to be torn and salvaged beyond repair repeatedly; as recently as the day before: they're rebuilt, strengthened, connections and interconnections are made stronger and continue to grow. They also become more intricate. Imagine. The beautifully intricately, delicate, wonderful connections for a web left alone. "Life" is about connections and interconnections. WE.... are all connected.

Now...

Please do not adjust your screen! The zanies have been blurred for blurred their protection. Or perhaps, because I need to have the photos e-mailed. Regardless, hoping to have it replaced later today or Tuesday at the latest! The tiny tiaras are priceless...

Lost and Found

2010-09-20T12:37:00.000-05:00

I was always one of those children that felt a little lost...

You know that child; the one who's quiet, spends most of her time in her room reading and listening to music. It wasn't that I was a loner; I had a few friends but was never one of the "popular girls" which was fine with me. Throughout junior high and high school I felt more alone; as though I'd be perfectly happy to stand against the wall and blend right into the beige paint. Since there were classes, band practices, competitions, and football games that wasn't going to happen; no matter how hard I tried. When you are a "band geek" you play all the football games; homecoming was the biggest game of all.

And in case you haven't heard? Band members get no respect.

As it turns out; I wasn't the only one who felt a little lost...

Once done with high school, I lost touch with the friends I had. It wasn't anything I intentionally planned; life, just sort of happened. Many years went by before we started to reconnect. It started with one email to my friend Denise. We were living on the beach in North Carolina at the time and I can still remember sitting, typing, watching the ocean waves, and wondering "Will she remember me? Will she respond? What if...?"

Denise, did in fact respond; and even came out for a short visit before we moved back to the Midwest. We stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, talking, visiting, catching up on lost time; as if we would never have the chance again. One of the things I jokingly told her was that I was putting the band back together. Little did I know that we'd be doing just that...

The first year I moved back there was Denise, Tina, Kristin, and myself. Lanita was in attendance; well... sort of. We printed her picture, put her on a stick, and carried her around with us. She had a fabulous time! Last year she attended in person. Renate joined us as well; and we carried our friend Brad around on a stick. He also had a great time. This year, it will be the usual gang of suspects: Lanita, Denise, Tina, Renate, Kristin, and myself. Lanita is bringing Suzanne and she will be an honorary member of our group.

There will be an entire weekend filled with food, wine, laughter, fun, a lot of talking, along with all sorts of silliness none of us would have dared to attempt pulling off as teenagers. Things like wearing multi-colored feather boas, sparkly tiaras, making ourselves at home in the section reserved for the band members; and carrying a "friend on a stick." There will most definitely be one who shall live vicariously this weekend. We will also be IN the parade this year. Because last year; had we been in it, we would have won.

There will also be lots of pictures. The best pictures are the FUN pictures; and NOTHING is more fun than pictures of lost friends on a stick. So to all of my "Lost and Found" friends...

I love you. Each and every one of you. And we are putting the band back together!!!

The Drunken Vanity & Nervous Dresser

2010-09-15T12:40:00.000-05:00

Drunken Vanity

I've mentioned my friend, Lanita; several times in past posts. As a matter of fact, I have known her since I met her at age 4 when we met the first day of kindergarden. She was the one who assured me numerous times; I was fully capable of blogging, tweeting, despite the fact we we are alike in many ways; yet so different. That having been said: She? Is clearly mental; more about that later.

Recently; her father had remarried, and my friend was multi-tasking, and forgetting to take a moment to BREATHE and calm down. So as she was packing everyone, running around like the proverbial farm family chicken attempting to escape the inevitable.

She was on a tight schedule that day, not to mention a little nervous about meeting her dad's new in-laws, among so many other things. Below are a few photos; along with a few excerpts from our text conversations:

Her: Packing frantically!

Me: Breathe. The world will not come to a screeching halt if you forget an item or two; or are a minute late. Good grief; woman. Stop!

Her: If I get it done now; I'll breathe later.

Me: TWO MINUTES TO BREATHE!

Her: Ignoring you now.

Me: Suit yourself. Ignorance is bliss. (She stops to breathe; so she informs me.)

Her: Nothing looks right. I have nothing to wear.

Me: Well. I guess you'll have to go in your undies, then.

Or wear rags. You have lots of bags. You could go as the bag lady!

Maybe they'll take pity on you and give you money for clothes! Oohh!

Drunken Closet

Drunken dressing chair

You see; my friend, has been through much in her life. Hers is not my story to tell; but I will tell you she's experienced much more than most people do in an entire lifetime; Joy, pain, cancer, catastrophic death of a husband, founding groups to help others, adoption, remarriage, another adoption, and so much more. You can read here blog here. Yet, despite heavy schedules; we always seem to manage to connect when needed.

My dear friend

WHY is she mentally unstable? So happy you asked! She changed my ring tone from a Beatles tune, to Devo's "Whip It" based on the mere facts: we were kitchen dancing at her home in July; solely so she could laugh herself silly when I call? Is totally mental; in the very best sort of way. Of course; who knows what her ring tone is now! She was living in a lovely garden under the sea....

I suppose this makes me a little 'mental' as well. We should try a to be a little "mental' every now and again; in a fun way; of course. So now, greet my unstable friend; the nervous dresser...who is looking fabulous; I might add!

One Word Post

2010-09-08T01:00:00.002-05:00

Today's post is simple; no photos, no links, no story. I will allow you to envision, create, and be reflective on one word. What do you think of when you hear or see the following word:

love

Natural Born Killer

2010-09-04T15:36:00.001-05:00

I had big plans for today. I wanted to acknowledge my twitter followers. I wanted to go over to the farmers' market. The air was chilly; so I thought maybe sitting on the covered porch with a cup of hot tea sounded pretty good. I could listen to my windchimes, hear the birds singing; all while listening to the gently splashing sound of water in the fountain my dad made several years ago. I even thought that perhaps a nice book to read while drinking my tea. I love books.

I also needed to decide where to plant a few more trees; maybe plant a few other things, just to see if they would grow. Then later, perhaps even do a few household chores. The usual mundane tasks that go along with daily life. I'd spend time with the dogs, maybe go out and see if I could create something even. Sadly, I've not gotten very far. This is as far as I've gotten:

I headed outside to decide where the trees should go. While outside "scouting"... I picked an apple off the tree, polished it on my pants, and ate it right then and there. It was delicious.

I watered the viburnum that I planted in memory of TJ. It's doing beautifully.

I thought I look to see how the forsythia someone had erroneously placed was doing. It was too large for the location; so we dug it out to plant the viburnum. My husband dug a hole, dropped it in and left it. It is looking lovely, as well.

I wandered over to check on my veggie and herb container gardens. While there, I picked a new tomato off the vine. Right next to them I paused along with the two smaller dogs, to take a look at the sedum; thinking I might cut a few to bring indoors.

Instead; we sat there, admiring the bees and butterflies for some time. I decided not to cut, after all. I didn't even bother to take pictures. I was far to busy admiring the show.

I put flags in the ground to see how the trees will look. I'm undecided yet, but we have until Monday.

While planting flags, I decided there were trees that needed trimming. So I got out the proper equipment and started. As I trimmed the birch trees which are pretty difficult to kill; I became very reflective...

Trees are very much like people. They come in all different, shapes, sizes, variety, and colors. Each and every one of them is unique.

Some trees need to be tended to very gently or they can be hurt; worse yet die.

Some trees can withstand much, such as the birch. They are hardy trees, and can be cut deeply and do fine.

There is an entire spectrum of trees; just as there is an entire spectrum of people. Yet, like trees people need tending. It is necessary for proper growth. Those that are fragile and can be or have been hurt; must be tended to gently. Others, perhaps; are hardier souls and can take quite a lot.

So when you meet someone, tend to them as if they were a fragile tree. Be kind, Be gentle. Be loving. For you may not know just exactly how tender "the tree" may be.

Incidentally; I never did make it to the farmer's market, or get much else accomplished yet today. With the exception of washing one small dog who decided to play in the mud after I forgot the hose was running. He needed some tending to, as well.

As always...wishing you much Love, Peace, and Joyfulness. Have a lovely weekend!

Silent Remembrance

2010-09-02T14:02:00.000-05:00

Please understand: My intention is not to hurt anyone by this post; but instead to help ease the pain. That is my hope!

You see; I know many friends, family members, friend of friends; as well as acquaintances not only from here in the US who loved and lost; be it a friend, family member, coworkers and or any of the above but around the globe. Not only are these photos to help remember those lost; but those who still here. I know this is a difficult day for so very, very many of you. I wish for you today: joy through the sorrow, tears through the pain, happy memories rather than sadness or guilt, knowledge of the fact; that there was nothing you, or anyone could have done. What happened is tragic and devastating for so very many. Yet, remember to look toward the future and do not become stuck in grief. I help far too many who are stuck in grief and guilt.

Not only did I lose close friends on this flight? I lost much. I have as have a son who's sister-in-law lost a boyfriend on this flight. Her birthday is today.

As always, I am open to comments; as long as they are not hurtful to those who may still be suffering. For this has been one of the most difficult posts for me to write.

May your suffering be eased just a tiny bit; you are not alone. I wish you all a bit of Peace; Joy, and especially Love....

Brenda

I've dug the hole for Mr. October 2010.

2010-09-01T06:11:00.002-05:00

I re-posted a test post last night to Twitter about being Dog Tired; a post from mid July of this year. It pertains to a beloved pet; my intuitive counterpart who I've had since he was a puppy. There are early posts back in March and April of this year when I first began blogging. He answers to many names, including Mr. October 2010. Officially, he was called TJ. Feel free to read through the early posts if you'd like. It may give you a bit more insight and background on this Beautiful Boy dog. They are still there and open for comments, I believe.

Yesterday, was TJ's birthday. You notice that I used present tense; not past tense. This is because TJ is still here. His physical body is no longer here; yet his spiritual body still visits. He left his earthly body on April 11; this year at precisely 7:11 PM. My beautiful dog had cancer. Everyone knew it; and he told me this. It's all there in the early blogs. He far surpassed all expectations; yet we all knew it was time; especial TJ and myself. The dog was very specific about when he wished to have help crossing the Rainbow Bridge.

We had his physical body cremated, and placed lovingly into a hand carved vessel. Yes; there were extra cremains. I have them in a Ziploc baggie. Yesterday, shortly passed 12:00 AM; I awoke to see him by the bedside, near where his vessel is located. The chimes outside were gently chiming. He wanted them hung just prior to his crossing. I acknowledged him and went back to sleep. At 4:11 AM, I was awakened by dog kisses in the face; not difficult for a dog that could kiss me while standing at the bedside. How lovely!

Later that morning; as well as several times up until 12:30 PM, the dogs all went barking and running. I knew who they were barking at; TJ. He loved to both lay on the sofa and watch out the front door for anything and/or anyone that might provide opportunity to say a loud "HELLO!"

It has been my intention all along that when I knew the timing would be correct; I would plant something in his memory; perhaps many somethings. Yesterday, after feeling a warm spot that should be on the sofa after the dogs went running? I knew the time was yesterday. After a heavy schedule of phone readings; I made a drive at 4:30 to find exactly what I wanted. They did not have it, but I do know where to find exactly what I wanted locally. I had no time for a tree. It was necessary that it needed completed yesterday.

I found a perfect specimen and will go back to purchase one or two more, perhaps. When I returned home; rushed for time, knowing my husband had already put in a full day: I didn't want to trouble him with digging out an old, uncared for plant. So I? Began digging.....

The "Grave Digging" needed to be completed by 7:11 PM. All supplies were at hand for planting and I was a bit concerned about the very breezy conditions and whether the mulch would blow away once finished. The old, unloved, uncared for plant was removed. The soil was prepared, The beautiful specimen was planted ever so lovingly, joyfully, and with reverence. The winds were calming. As I sprinkled something; it stopped completely. Yet; I knew my husband and I still had to finish. We worked on; and I tended the plant both physically and spiritually. This and much more. At 7:10 PM we were finished. I know this because while I was tending specimen? He looked inside the back window.

As 7:11 PM precisely? The chimes stopped completely, despite the brisk breeze. The Beautiful Boy gave me a precious gift. Many; so many more than I could ever express. Not in one blog, not in several.

In case you are wondering? As I was tending; that sprinkling I mentioned were some of the ashes from his physical body. Yes; I reached into a clear baggie with my bare hands and touched his cremains. No matter where I go... he will always be there with the that specimen... to watch over it and love it; just as we all watch and love each other.

When I returned inside, to let the dogs out of their kennels? The dog who acts much like TJ (only in more manageable size); had managed to get out of his kennel, get a piece of paper from where I have NO idea... and shred it. Just like TJ did at that age!

How I Outsmarted Death

2010-08-24T01:11:00.001-05:00

Back in July, I wrote a post about disliking white cars. My husband loves cars the same way some women love handbags or shoes. For him? It's not just the car, itself; but the quest for the car. His ultimate dream: to be a car salesman; which frightens me.

During the first week in July, while I was out of town, he purchased a gently used white car. This past weekend my husband and I took a long weekend in that car. I challenged that car and death to a duel. Not only did I challenge that car, but all the rest of the white vehicles and there were several. Including? You guessed it; a retired white prison van... used to transport us to the drop off point for kayaking.

This is a list of ways I outsmarted death:

A stop at the State Fair where my husband fed me greasy, fried fair food. I'm not one for either fried or greasy food.
A ride on a mechanical bull. I had to sign a waiver saying essentially that if I die; I will not sue.
Various wine samplings prior to heading into heavy traffic. I was riding; not driving. Thankfully.
While in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic, having my husband slam the brakes; hard. When I ask "What are you doing?" His reply? "TRYING NOT TO DIE!"
Kayaking eight miles with friends in the beautiful Ozarks of Southern Missouri. After being freed of the re-purposed prison van.
Soaking up the natural beauty of the river, trees, skies, cliffs, and wildlife. This was all good!
Shimmying high up a tree; old rope swing in hand, closing my eyes, letting go, and flying free. Everyone told me it was a perfect landing. Sometimes; you simply have to let go and trust.
Braving a brief, yet terrible storm while still on the river. At a place called Devil's Knob, no less.
Hearing that someone has been stalking the "Ghost Lady" for nearly seven miles while I'm lagging behind. He wasn't really stalking, simply watching me apply sunscreen. Numerous times.
Submerging myself in the 52 degree (Fahrenheit) springs, simply because I wanted to do so.
Using Reiki to help with a back problem for a new friend who's back has troubled her for years. It was my pleasure. I was humbled and thankful when she told me two days later how her back hasn't felt this well since her accident.
Having lunch in a dark Italian eatery on the Hill in St. Louis... with Frank Sinatra playing in the background.
Braving heat stroke again the next day by taking in the beauty of the Botanical Gardens; especially the Japanese Gardens and Victorian Gardens.
Waited by a crying child until her mother came back for her. I was not about to leave her alone; and no one had me dragged off for being alone with a crying child.
Received the unexpected gift of a beautiful little blossom given to me by another beautiful little child. The mother allowed me to hug her child. Nothing is better than the unexpected hug. Especially from a child.

How did my husband pay for his crimes in his attempts to drive me to my impending doom, you ask?

He was forced to spend time away from work; and spend it with his wife. Along with a day spent with friends.
I made him try raw octopus head at the sushi restaurant.
He suffered the indignities of helping me find a new bikini. Then having to watch as I tried on various ones.
Nearly died of fright when I asked a stranger in the restaurant on The Hill what the writing on the back of her shirt meant. It meant "All Together Now."
Was made to wait while I purchased a few fair trade items, while shopping for future gift giving. I love fair trade items.
He suffered embarrassment as I waited near the lost child yelling for her mother that she is OK; hoping mom could hear my voice.
During visits to a couple of places, he respected my requests to leave; because of the residual sadness left remaining behind, or because they were simply 'haunted.' He's done this many times and is quite used to it by now.
He suffered embarrassment when I noticed the radiant energy of a beautiful couple in the food court at a mall. When my husband went to the bathroom, the gentleman walked passed. I smiled and said hello. I then went and spoke with his lovely wife. I told her how beautiful they were together. She understood what I meant and we chatted. She was very nice. My husband returned to find us chatting. He gets more than a little embarrassed when I do such things.
He suffered the beauty of nature; in all it's forms... with his wife. Who love him; truly loves him.

He's offered numerous times to trade the white car. But I think I'd like to keep that, as well. He's always wanted one, he fits, and I managed to survive the challenge and live to blog about it! And sometimes; when you love someone? All you need is Love.

Besides that? My greatest fear? What he'll exchange it for.... his fondest wish is to have either an old ambulance or old hearse. He's been vetoed; on both counts!

See anything?

2010-08-18T01:10:00.001-05:00

Those of you who are interested in paranormal research; ghost hunting, either personally and/or professionally, or even if you're simply curious about whether such things as ghosts and/ or spirits exist?

Please take a look at this picture, and tell me what; if anything you see. This hasn't been altered in any way and I've made it as large as possible. If you see something? Tell me what you see and please be specific. If you don't see anything, I'd like to know that, too! You are free to share it, compare it; all I ask is that no one else claim it as their own. I personally took this photo; and I prefer it remain under my domain. If you're an email subscriber who wishes to remain anonymous, you're welcome to email your response. Unless you dare to go public, of course! That said... Thanks and Happy Hunting! Brenda