of haunted bathrooms...

Where to begin…

Somewhere along the way I discovered I could see, what I can only conclude to be, ghosts. Yep, guess that totally qualifies me as a weirdo. Sorry - I know what I know – that’s it. It’s not like I asked… I am compelled to be truthful. Ask anybody.

Anyway, my sister is visiting me – hurray!!!! She rarely visits. We had a GREAT weekend. Being the weirdy weirdos we are, we spent our time looking at crystals and making jewelry.

I have a lovely crystal cluster that belonged to our mother. I asked my sister to take a look and spend some time with it. (Mom always liked her best.) When it was time to end the evening, Glenda, my sister, offered to let me try her Redfeather spray (for arthritis). BTW – it’s great.

She sprayed my lower back – the cold spray was a real shock - I turned it into a sexy dance :)))
At the same time, I spilled my glass of water all over the kitchen floor…hilarity ensued. That being done and cleaned up, I once again announced my intentions for bed and proudly showed off my new water container – as featured on the Oprah show. Very fancy – hummingbirds et al. Note: The cats (we have 5) like to stick their paws in my water glass, spilling water into my precious bedside reading bin…and so, the fancy water bottle.

Proudly, I showed Glenda the locking cap mechanism, turning the bottle upside down to show how it protected from spillage. For some reason, the cap was unlocked and water poured (again) all over the kitchen. Once again, hilarity. As I wiped up my mess, I saw my mother’s crystal on the kitchen counter. This was precisely the type of madcap humour she loved. Hmmm. My sister commented that Mother must be watching us.

My spousal unit - BFF, Robert, feeds his old cat Target in the downstair’s bathroom. This is due mainly to the other cats who eat all the food before Target can get any. Lately, the paper towel Robert so tidely puts the cat food dish on has been totally SOAKED with water after Target’s feeding. There is no water bowl in this room. Target isn’t wet – the floor isn’t wet – where the hell did the water come from?

And now this…

Today I came home for lunch to visit my sister one last time before she leaves for her home. We both washed our hands in the downstair’s bathroom (being well brought up). The bathroom was tidy. I was the last one to wash my hands (again) before returning to work. I noticed a large (really large) smudge of runny yuck on the mirror. It wasn’t there before lunch. My sister said she didn’t see it on the mirror just moment before when she was using the bathroom…it was impossible to miss. It ran both up and down, rather than just down. It also had a dimensional quality to it. It had depth. At first it looked kinda’ like a hand – but then we thought - more like a foot with toes delineated by many very fine capillary type lines. To our amazement, while we watched, the smudge appeared to clear and then shifted it’s shape. We took some digital photos – in the photos it appeared like a windowy type hole.

Sisters, no one else would believe this weirdness. Could be… ectoplasm?

Post: Robert asked “what up” with the mirror. He calmly asserted that he thought it might be a visitor. (I love that man).

This morning the bathroom started manifesting a strange sound…weird.

THIS has never happened to me before.

No Goodbyes

I have always wished that I could draw: blend pallets of colour. Watch the emergence of something totally new. I’ve always loved “the new”, but you would never guess it. Old clothes, older tunes, I always manage to purchase the same type of sweater over and over again – the same shoes - mainly because I have always dreaded endings.

The pain of letting go, for me, is... unbearable. In my own personal philosophy, there are NO endings. I’ve abolished them. So there.

As hard as I try, I can't help despair that one day I'll reach that particular fork in the road, the one from which there is no return. You are NOT correct if you are assuming that it’s death I am afraid of, at least not any more than anyone else.

It’s the finality of “The End”...of never seeing a sunset over a certain beach; forever closing a favourite book…Why is any of this important? I feel like have spent my entire time on this planet trying to find that which is real and true about my purpose here.

Endings are just not part of it: Beginnings start today.

And just how will I begin this glorious new day? Another January day bound to be as gray as it is long. Brain congested from the nightly turns of my subconscious, groping in the winter morning darkness, somehow I find a coffee (thanks b.) and prepare to welcome all that is new.

The Memory of Water...

I've been reading Lynne McTaggert's book: The Intention Experiment. I've also just finished reading another of her other books: The Field - great book!

I was drawn by referances to the Emoto's series of books around The Memory of Water. What a wonderful theory! The pictures are beautiful. The idea is: you can positively affect water by communicating intentions i.e. writing words of love, faith, hope and inspiration on your cup.

It seems pretty strange, but not really very different from the creation of the universe beginning with "the word"...and thus, I am hoping to keep my new year's resolutions.