What's In A Name?

The holidays have been very enjoyable and I think that everything is settling down again. At the very least, my toddler is resuming her regular schedule and is no longer overwhelmed by company and by too many gifts.

It's a relief to have begun my month-long vacation from readings but now I'm unsettled:

I had a very frustrating experience last night. The ghosts that came to my dreams gave me the first and last names of a person and I haven't any other clue about her identity. She isn't a client of mine (at least, not yet). I've written the name down for future reference.

Also, a ghost from my family's home--in a dream--came to warn me about something but I can't remember the content! She was actually the "ghost from the porch". She was angry, she was dressed in white (how cliché!) and I know that it was important.

Glass Breaks

Last night, between four and five a.m., my sister and her friend were awakened by the sound of glass crashing in the kitchen, right beside them. Apparently, it sounded as if all the glass in the kitchen had been smashed to the floor.

They got up to investigate, turned the light on and found nothing out of place. This is not unusual for the old family home. My sister is accustomed to hearing glass breaking and finding absolutely nothing (though it is usually my mother who experiences this).

Her friend, however, was frightened almost witless while my sister fell back to sleep.

***

Yesterday, a very long day, was my last set of readings until February! My writing vacation begins. I'm so thrilled.

There was something of a storm during the last few days and more stormy weather was expected yesterday; not one of my clients, however, was deterred. One lady even said, "Look, if I have to ski to get there, I will." Blush.

A Light In The Dark

The place is simply abuzz lately with ghostly activity. Both Scully and I have often heard our names being called and, thinking it was the other, were shocked.

Orbs, flashes of light and figures--all seen and sensed--are really notable.

This afternoon, before leaving for our visit with my in-laws, I was entrusted with securing the house and I did so diligently. I made certain that each light was off when I left.

Many hours later, my dear husband exclaimed:

"You left the hall light on!" He was frustrated.
"No, actually, I didn't." I snapped.

The conversation stopped there. You know, the light being turned on could be interpreted by others as intrusion but I thought it was a nice gesture: while we were away, I thought more than a few times about coming home to a pitch-dark house. (It's on a very large lot without extra lighting beyond those on the street. Tucked back from the road, it is very dark.) It bothered me that I had chosen to turn every light off before leaving.

Anyway, there are four spirits around.

Ghost Etiquette

Gigi continues to talk about ghosts that I've seen, too. Lately, the strongest ghost (in the sense of "most often perceived") is in the basement. He is large and he died an angry man. He has not tried to talk to me. I believe that he is associated with the home as a former resident but not a former owner.

Gigi doesn't become afraid very often because, since she started speaking of them, I've introduced her to cartoons with images and songs about ghosts. I also tell her not to be afraid and she says, "Never, never."

Nice is the transformation with Scully: he has had some experiences (recounted at various points in the blog) but it's Gigi's growing capacity for speech and her fascination with them that intrigues Scully.

Since becoming a professional psychic a couple years ago, I have to say that I've become more detached from the ghosts around me. They're there, definitely, but often in the sense that wallpaper is there or furniture even. I guess I'm no longer intrigued by my experiences. I've just accepted them.

If a ghost needs me, it contacts me. If not, it doesn't and I don't push the issue. I guess I've developed a 'ghost etiquette'.

A Tale of Two Parties

I receive a lot of email to I See Dead People. There are often many questions and, overall, it's nice, warm and supportive. One in particular was really touching because I suddenly realized it was from a complete stranger. I couldn't help but think back to a conversation that I'd had at around the time that the media started buzzing around me.

It was with someone whom I only knew as a celebrity.

"Look around you tonight. Many of your friends won't be around in the next couple of years. Before you've even gotten to the height of your career, so many people will have just dropped out of your life."

I tried to be casual. It was, after all, a party and I didn't want a scene or anything like that.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Some will be envious of you. Some have been around because they felt more successful than you. Others will resent how quickly you became successful. And others won't believe in what you do and won't have an open mind."

"I think my friends'll support me." I could feel my cheeks burning with resentment. How dare this person presume to know anything about me or about my friends? Besides, life at that time was all about a great husband, a beautiful home and I went from media event to media event while subsisting on hors d'oeuvres and wine/champagne.

Boy, I was wrong. So, so wrong. Last weekend, I was at a party (a very good one, indeed) and met up with someone who resents me. (I have it on very good authority that she does.)

I dreaded the encounter. I wasn't about to apologize for having made something of myself and I wasn't about to apologize for having a career that most people didn't understand and, worse, wouldn't even try to understand. I often write about what I do for a living but I don't speak of it often unless it's brought up in a certain context or by someone else. So, obviously, I wasn't going to force the issue by saying, "Hey, did you see me on television?"

When I did see her, my own resentment dissipated. I just felt saddened. Here was a person for whom I could be happy if she were happy but who, in turn, could not be happy for me: she knew about the interviews, many radio appearances, the documentary, etc. but she could not mention it.

And, so, the celebrity had been right after all. This person had spoken from experience. I'm not as well-known as she--or, maybe I am but how could I possibly know?--and I didn't ask to become well known nor did I ever expect to be. It has all been a nice--and oftentimes embarrassing--surprise to me.

I could have dwelt on the fact that not all of my friends have come through for me. When I look around now, I see the numbers have dwindled.

When I looked around at this most recent party, I chose only to see the people who supported me. People who said, "Hey, congrats on the documentary" or "I wanted to watch you on television but was at work" or, even better, "How are you?"

These were my friends. As for the resentful former friend, I bid her goodbye. I mean, really, I did. When, as she was leaving, she kissed my cheek and said, "Goodbye", I returned the nicety though my word was more meaningful.

The rest of the night, I was grateful to be among people with whom there was mutual respect. Not everyone believed in what I did but they treated me with respect just as those who take the time to make comments, to ask questions and to send email.

(cross-posted to Miscellanea & Ephemera)

Patterns

My stepfather doesn't have much to do during the day. He shuffles from one end of the house to the other, puffing on his cigarette.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Puff. Puff.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Puff. Puff.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Puff. Puff.

I remember it well from the days when I lived at my parents' home. My sister still lives there; she also doesn't have much to do during the day.

"It drives me nuts!" she yelled down the phone to me this morning. "Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Puff. Puff. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Puff. Puff. Oh my gawd, I'm going insane!"

"You know, he's going to do that when he's a ghost, too.".

Peals of laughter. It broke up my sister's mood. I actually meant it seriously.

Fear and Ambivalence

This morning, my sister informed me that she had stayed up last night and was feeling sick from sleep deprivation.

"Why the hell did you stay up?" I ask with my normal sisterly concern.

"I kept listening to the fridge door opening, to the sound of juice being poured into a glass and to the fridge door closing."

"Oh, don't be silly!" I scold her. "That was just Grandma!"

"I know. Still, it really freaked me out. Everyone else was asleep."

You might have detected just a hint of impatience in that conversation. My family is no stranger to ghosts or to paranormal phenomena and my sister knows that she needn't be afraid. Besides, I was still sleepy.

Ah, forgive me. It has been a long time since my last confession...er, I meant post.

Things have been at once pretty busy and quiet.

My reading schedule is heavy but manageable (I hope) and I'm now booking into March. I can't forget about my 'writing vacation' that take place throughout the month of January. Everyone needs a break, right? I'm overdue for one which is probably the reason behind my slow-to-post-here behaviour.

Interestingly, I've discovered that I have referrals from a local police department. This shocks me and, yet, it doesn't.

More About Ollie

While getting changed today, Gigi knocked on the bathroom wall.

"Knock, knock." she said. "Ollie!"

I asked her why she was knocking on the wall. "Ollie," she replied.

"Is Ollie in the wall?"

She spoke into the little space created by the edge of mirror and the wall: "Hello!!"

"Gigi, where does Ollie live?"

"In Gigi's house. In my house."

Speech Developments

Now that she can speak more fluently, our two-year-old daughter talks about the normally-unseen occupants of the house. I overheard her (and Scully) the other day:

"Daddy..."
"Yes, honey?"
"Ah 'cared."
"You're scared? What is scary?"
"Shadow."

This past Thursday, I took her out to the backyard for some fresh air. It's a very large yard and, at its end, there is a locked shed that's connected to our detached garage. We climbed the old, stone steps and it was cold.

Mini-me turned around and started knocking on the door:

"Ollie!" she yelled. "Ollie!"

"Um, who's Ollie?" I asked her but she didn't want to talk about it.

I have seen the ghost of a young boy around the house but I didn't know his name.

All's Well That Ends Well

The documentary went really well. Thank you to everyone who asked about it.

Basically, I answered questions about myself and my work for about one hour and I did a walk-through of a home while giving my impressions. I hope it was interesting.

I'm a little shocked that some friends didn't congratulate me or even mention it to me. Oh, well.


Our Jack-O-Lantern

Scully carved the pumpkin in the front yard on Hallowe'en. We think he did a great job.

We took Gigi out for Hallowe'en for the first time. It was amazing. I taught her the day before what to expect. Only 27 months old, she said, "Trick or Treat", "Thank you" and "Happy Hallowe'en" at every home. She also surprised us by being able to walk up and down 1.5 streets before she got tired. I also explained, that evening, that we could look through her treats and maybe have one or two before going to bed. She had never had a Coffee Crisp before -- and, thankfully, she only took a bite -- but it was exciting for her.

Several times throughout the week, she watched her favourite episode of the Backyardigans called, It's Great To Be A Ghost.

My readings went well and I look forward to those scheduled today as I wait for my babysitter . . .

I See Dead People . . . In A Documentary

Today, the documentary about my life/work begins. I'm more nervous than I thought that I'd be but definitely not as nervous as my first national TV appearance. I'm used to the camera, I guess, but I can't really believe that it's happening.

Gigi had me awake from 3:00 - 5:00 this morning, so I'm not exactly chipper.

Sleepless

At the moment, I'm listening to talk radio on the station on which I have often been a guest. I accidentally changed some function on our elaborate home-theatre system and, this being the second time tonight, I can't be bothered to problem-solve my way through it again.

I have insomnia and I think that it's due to this illness.

Anyway, last night (Saturday), I dreamt that a major bank was seized by many men. There were many hostages. I don't know the location but I know that the motive behind the crime wasn't entirely related to monetary gain. There was more of a 'terrorist' element than financial motivation. I wish I knew the location. I haven't listened to the news, so I don't know if it has already happened.

Me, In Translation

Will I get lost in translation? I have a client who does not speak English at all and she has recruited someone to translate for her in order to have a reading. This is a new one for me.

An Interesting Experience

Last night, my two-year-old daughter ran into the darkened kitchen and came running back out at double the speed.

"Mummy!" she called. "Mummy, 'cared!" She had never told me that she was frightened before.

"Oh, come here, my baby," I told her. "What are you afraid of?"

"Kitchen. Dark."

I took her into the kitchen, flipped on the light and showed her that everything was okay. Satisfied, we walked back into the foyer.

For some reason that I can't recall, we started singing a song from a Backyardigans episode: It's Great To Be A Ghost.

When I make that moaning sound,
I get the urge to float around.
With my arms out before me, I can float all day
And there's a word I heard a ghost once say
It's boo...

There is a dance that accompanies the music and we love to act it out.

Then, she started talking about "a ghost". I couldn't understand what she
was saying, so I asked her questions that sounded similar:

"Do you see a ghost, Gigi?"

"Yes."

"Where is the ghost, honey?"

Then, she took me back through the kitchen and down the step to the mudrooom area. She stopped at the top of the stairs to the basement.

"There," she pointed without prompting. She was pointing to the bottom of the stairs. I couldn't see anything.

"The ghost is in the basement?"

"Yes."

"What does the ghost look like?"

I forgot that I was speaking to a just-turned-two-year-old. The question didn't make sense to her and I was at a loss for any questions that she would understand.

I had to wonder: Had she orchestrated our play to tell me about a ghost?

The Spectre of Danger

Exposure. Transparency. I thought about these words while reading a book recently--a children's book--that I had considered to be wonderfully original. The main character--a superintendent's child--enters the apartment of a quirky, nay strange, tenant and finds herself looking through objects: everything but the ceiling in this apartment is made of glass including the floor. She can even see the tenants below.

The issue of transparency in this novel is not incidental or an accident of production. Olivia Kidney, the titular character created by Ellen Potter, finds a world turned inside out in which what isn't normally seen is exposed. The author uses various devices such as humour and psychic phenomena in order to achieve this and Olivia learns that things don't always appear as they seem: this is sometimes dangerous and sometimes not.

Reading this book brought back so many memories. Back in the mid-90s, I lived in a three-story walk-up in the middle of downtown. It wasn't in the least glamourous: dingy, yellow walls absorbed the smoke from unidentified burning substances while a feckless 'superintendent' sat on the front steps mentally recording everyone's activities. I didn't want to be there but I couldn't bring myself to leave: there was something familiar about the bizarre array of occupants, even about the strangeness of everyone and everything. It takes time to reach that level of familiarity.

Olivia Kidney knows this well. She has moved from building to building as her father is fired and hired as superintendent around the city. Settling and developing friendships are difficult--if not foreign--ideas for Olivia and her initial uneasiness isn't exactly quelled by the occupants of this latest building.

Again, more memories arise for me. An elderly woman befriended me. 'Ursula' called me--whether I liked it or not--daily and once cryptically warned me: "Nothing is as it seems in this building." When pressed for more information, she squirmed away from the conversation. I never did find out what she meant but Olivia is more fortunate in that she gains insight into the nature of both her surroundings and her relationships.

In this little girl, you'll find courage, strength and a fractured sense of well-being after traumatic experiences. You'll also find sorrow, anger and a determination to conquer her fears.

You'll also find her funny because Ellen Potter has a sense of humour and she's not afraid to show it. At the outset of the novel, Olivia carries around a book--about seances--that once belonged to her older brother. The following is the most original passage that I've ever read concerning the paranormal:

The first chapter of the book was full of warnings. It told of all the bad things that could happen if you didn't conduct your seance properly. It seemed that dead people could be quite ornery about being disturbed. If you didn't summon them in the right way, they might pinch your leg or tackle you to the floor. Then there were the boring dead people. If you had the misfortune to summon one of these, they could yabber on and on about bathroom towels and how the weather was so terribly changeable, and what sorts of plants were best for indoors. And they would not leave either, even after the seance was over. That was because none of the other dead people would talk to them. So they would float next to you, blathering and blathering without stopping, night and day. In some instances boring dead people literally drove living people insane. In fact, the book said, many psychiatric hospitals are 40 percent full of people who have accidentally summoned a boring ghost.

One problematic area of Olivia Kidney is the pace. Olivia leaves an elevator and enters the unknown; maybe she lingers in certain areas longer than necessary. It did seem to slow considerably in the middle but it regained its momentum near the end.

At one point, Potter introduces the possibility of insanity but it is fleeting. You are supposed to decide if Olivia is delusional or if she is experiencing the paranormal. I don't think that this device was necessary. First, Olivia Kidney is not a genre gothic novel and the question of sanity is not required. Secondly, the novel could stand its own ground in an argument about the paranormal. There are sufficient numbers of those who believe in the paranormal to ensure that this book will reach a wide audience.

There are so many features of this book that deserve discussion but the scope of this blog entry won't cover them. Besides, it's better to discover these for yourself. At any rate, this is the kind of book that you'll read in uncomfortable positions if necessary.

Book Information:



Author: Ellen Potter
Illustrated: Peter H. Reynolds
Publisher: Puffin Books (2004)
Format: Paperback, 160 pp
Trim Size: 12.9 cm x 19.7 cm
ISBN: 0-14-240234-6
Reading Level: Ages 8 - 12

Lenses

I've been so busy lately that I've hardly had time to consider what a documentary about me and my work is going to look like. I mean, I'm flattered and honoured that I've been asked but I doubt that I will even watch it once it's complete.

(Actually, I can't believe that it's going to happen: I forgot about the proposal sitting in my inbox and, when I responded affirmatively, I didn't know if the offer was still on the table or not).

I've never watched anything that I've done in the media before. Reading interviews can be upsetting and I certainly don't want to pick my television appearances to pieces (and I'm sure that I could). After being on the radio a dozen times, I don't bother with recordings of the hour-long sessions.

Through A Lens

I was approached over the long weekend to do a documentary about me and my work and I've agreed.

A Note On My Absence

I'm still sick but I'll get back into the swing of things as soon as this illness is gone.

End of Day

I've had the luxury today of staying in bed while Scully takes care of me. I have three comforters on and I'm still cold.

Yesterday, I had a scheduled telephone reading and, given my babysitting woes, Scully had come home early to babysit while I did my readings.

"Mummy! Mummy!! MUMMY!!!" she yelled, over and over again. Bear in mind that our house is large enough to require intercoms and she could still be heard. My client was less than impressed and I had to put her on hold (at least, I hope that she was on hold) while I called to my husband to keep the baby quietly occupied.

It was bound to happen that being a Mummy and a psychic would eventually meet at the same spot. Poor baby, I really wanted to take care of her instead of doing the reading. She was accustomed to having her dinner prepared by me and that was what caused the fussing.

Aaaack!

I'm sick again: fever, chills, sore throat, etc. I think it was only two weeks ago that I was sick with something similar; in fact, we all were. Scully has been very good about taking care of me and the baby.

I had a light day for readings today and this worked out well for me.

Today, the bathroom door was difficult to open when a client was trying to exit and I'm afraid she worried that it might be a ghost. It was just an old door in an old house that refused to cooperate but I could see how it might have been frightening considering that it was my house.

Ken Burns's Jazz documentary is on right now and my laptop battery is running low.

New York Photo Exhibit


Metropolitan Museum of Art"The Medium Eva C. with a Materialization on Her Head and a Luminous Apparition Between Her Hands," Albert von Schrenck-Notzing, 1912

If you happen to be in New York, the Metropolitan Museum of Art offers an exhibit of photographs entitled, "The Perfect Medium: Photography and the Occult".

According to the above-linked article, the exhibit itself makes no claim about the authenticity of the phenomena depicted in the photographs.

It runs until the end of December.

Mind Over Matter

All those who believe in psychokinesis raise my hand. - Stephen Wright

I once sat in the same room with a person who seriously believed that he could alter time. He also believed that, if I looked hard enough, I could watch him astrally project. Frankly, I couldn't find an excuse quickly enough to leave. My university years were, indeed, difficult: I found some solace in academia because it distracted me from...well, from myself.

As a teen, however, I had a voracious appetite for books about ghosts: it was largely due to the fact that I felt comforted by the sense that others experienced what I did. One area of the 'paranormal', however, always troubled me: psychokinesis.

"Hey," you might object. "You see dead people and make a living by telling people about their past, present and future. Why is the leap to a belief in mind-moving-matter so difficult to make?"

After a lifetime of experience in the area of the paranormal, I can honestly say that I don't know. It just is. (Years of studying Philosophy really paid off :-) The aforementioned gentleman was for this belief and other reasons, I believe, delusional; there are, however, presumably sane people who make claims about moving objects or determining outcomes using their mind.

Well, maybe it's because I can't do it that I find it hard to believe. It may exist, this mind-power, but I haven't yet witnessed it. (I was never convinced by Uri Gellar). Perhaps I'm not your typical psychic. I'm not saying that it doesn't happen; I'm saying that I simply don't actively believe in it.

Mind Under Matter

I also don't believe in the efficacy of throat lozenges, either, but I'm sucking on them constantly because I'm sick. We're all sick with the flu.

I'd like to will us to get better.

Vicissitudes

Yay, I have a babysitter - March 2005
Do I? - May 2005
Well, no I don't - June 2005
No and then yes! - July 2005
Alas, no again - July 2005
But, yes...- August 2005

And, again, no.

Oh, well, my troubles notwithstanding, I have managed to get out to do the DVD bargain-bin rounds:


The Lost Voyage (2001)


Killer Instinct (2000)


A Bucket of Blood (1959)


Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959)


The Terror (1963)


The Little Shop of Horrors (1960)

Where Do I Go To Complain?

I'm lagging behind in my posts to this blog. Admittedly, I have been feeling in need of a vacation from my job (i.e., readings) but I know that one is, indeed, far away: January.

I didn't want to whine, so I kept silent.

I had dreamt of the New Orleans/Mississippi catastrophe some time ago and I can't find the reference in my archives. I saw hundreds of angry ghosts marching down the street and they didn't know where to go. I know that I mentioned it but I can't remember when. I went looking for it just moments ago because I have been bothered about the dream.

Anyway, I promise to try to be less like Eeyore the next time I write. Er, not that I'm stuffed with sawdust or anything...

Scary Movies and Stuff

By far, I usually have more female clients than male but this summer has seen so many male clients. (My clients hear about me through word-of-mouth primarily but there are many who have seen me on television or heard me on radio or stumbled across my website.)

Gigi knows my work as "seeing my ladies".

I think many men are reluctant to seek help of a spiritual nature.

At any rate, the house has been quiet as far as activity goes though the cold spots are always with us.

I have had to turn down requests for investigations and parties due to the fact that I have no time.




I watched The Ring 2 yesterday with my sister and it seems likely that there will be The Ring 3 since so many questions are left unanswered. Still, I enjoyed it far more than I did the first; however, I didn't find this one frightening, either. I'm not sure what would frighten me.

The Exorcism of Emily Rose. That looks frightening and I don't even believe in demonic possession. We'll have to wait and see if it actually does scare me. If anyone reading this sees this movie, I'd be interested to know what you thought of it.

Body and Soul

A marching band consisting of Scully and Gigi beat loudly, hand and foot, while my sister scraped uneaten portions of a cereal bar from the bottom of her feet. She was cleaning the nursery while I was running around getting ready to do my readings.

"It must be Friday," my husband joked.

Fridays are insane even when my reading load is relatively light: the logistics of childcare before, during and after readings; ironing Scully's clothes for work (I know, I should do it earlier), cleaning the house to make it presentable while picking up constantly after a two-year-old bundle of energy.

Even in the motion, activity and noise, I was able to stop and think: They are the reason that I do everything.

Grey Lines

It's muggy and hot today making it difficult to do much around here.

My dreams have been steeped in the past but not in a bad or unpleasant manner. People, places and shades of my former self have been revisited as if it's meant to be a gentle reminder of how I arrived here. Issues that had once been stamped in black and white were actually grey and I was surprised upon waking.

It must have something to do with my sister visiting for extended lengths of time and the past coming up in our conversations.

Alabama's ashes will be here tonight and, then, we need to decide what we want to do with them. This is something I've never had to do before. We loved her, our grey cat, and respected her deeply.

The last comical memory that I have of her occurred about a week before her death: while in the front yard watering the gardens, I caught a grey glimpse scuttling through the hedges. My first thought was that Alabama had escaped from the house.

"Oh, no!" I thought. "She's not supposed to be outdoors." I ran alongside the bushes until they ended at the driveway, hoping to catch her and take her back inside.

Imagine my surprise when the grey line of fur became black, then black with a white line along its body and then definitely not my cat.

"Aaaaaack!" I jumped and ran inside.

Ghosts

Gigi wanted to watch The Backyardigans. If you haven't watched it: the central characters engage each other in imaginative play and the show is predicated upon the idea that they can be anything of their choosing.

We only had one episode recorded: "It's Great To Be A Ghost." The music of this cartoon is, in general, excellent: polka, jazz, rock, etc. This particular episode featured a 1920s soundtrack and great gothic outdoor scenery as well as a detailed, decrepit house.

The opening title song in this episode is my favourite of their entire repertoire.

Anyway, today, there was a ghost in my backyard and one in my bedroom. The bedroom ghost was actually my maternal grandfather and he was there for only a few seconds. I'm definitely not getting along with my mother at the moment so that might explain his presence.

I figured out why I didn't perceive anything when Gigi's musical toy went off a little while ago. I think it could be a manufacturer's program to attract attention to itself if it has been unused for long periods of time.

I'm glad that it's actually Friday now. Even though it's my busiest day as Mummy and Psychic and Housewife, it's still the promise of a weekend.

My sister has come up to babysit while I do all my readings this week. It is such a great help and she insists that she won't bail on me again. Please keep your fingers crossed for me.

Just Rambling

Wow, I've been neglecting this blog lately. Forgive me. I've been so busy trying to get organized that I appear even LESS organized.

I can't believe the number of paranormal-inspired television shows that are coming up in the Fall. Apparently, people find it quite funny that I don't watch these kinds of shows EVER.

That being said, I absolutely loved Dead Like Me and Six Feet Under: these series were darkly comical, tongue-in-cheek and too short-lived. Dead Like Me was not picked up for a third season and Six Feet Under ended last week in its fourth season.

Movies are another story entirely. I enjoy a good film. I love those crafted in the gothic genre and avoid the blood-and-gore horror.

While Mini-Me sleeps, I think I'll see what's new on Video-on-Demand.

Digging In

I threw myself into work yesterday and dug through piles of paperwork and correspondence with clients. I actually got caught up! I can be so damned efficient when I'm postponing grief.

I think the stress of not having things done was getting to be too much for me. I couldn't enjoy my rare spare time knowing that there was so much to do. I should hire a secretary.

I really felt the pull between motherhood and working: Mini-Me was being babysat in my home and I was working on the floor beneath. She would call me. When she came down the stairs at different points, she would run to me and ask to be held. Of course, I held her and I felt guilty for wondering why my babysitter wouldn't keep her entertained in her large nursery as I had requested: wanting to work and wanting not to want to work. At times, I really wanted to send the sitter home and just hold my baby some more.

I just knew that if I could plough through, things would be better for all of us. There would be more of me to give my family.

I spoke with Scully about my desire to take a month off to do nothing but write while I have childcare. He agreed that it would be a good idea. Unfortunately, that only leaves January since I'm already booking into December. A writing vacation! Well, it won't really be a vacation but I look forward to it with the same kind of enthusiasm normally reserved for such occasions.

I just discovered that my mother inadvertantly referred two clients to me today. They called for appointments and mentioned having spoken with my mother. My mother has it that she was talking about me to someone else, was overheard and that's how it happened.

Alabama, c.1990 - August 16, 2005



This morning, after a long illness, our other cat passed away.

She was very old for a cat and a dear friend. She always reminded me of a little old lady.

We will miss her.

Still Relatively Common

Grandma had diabetes. She had tremendous difficulty in sticking to a strict diet. In the late 80s, she came to live with us.

My mother converted the dining room into a bedroom by adding both a bathroom and an extra set of doors: Grandma slept right beside the kitchen.

In the middle of the night, it wasn't uncommon to hear her scrabbling across the kitchen floor and opening the fridge.

By day, she always seemed so slow and lumbering but, my father maintains, by night, she practically ran to the kitchen once everyone was in bed.

She died in 1989. During my sister's stay this week, I was reminded that, to this day, people still hear her making her way to the kitchen and they swear that they hear the fridge door slamming.

The Armchair Director



This is a disappointment in general. There are some truly fantastic, Hitchcockian spins but it doesn't deliver in the end. In fact, it doesn't really deliver in the middle either.

My suggestion? Remake it, use the fantastic gothic elements more fully and leave some questions unanswered.

Of course, I've been a little irritable since I finished my readings tonight.

Back At the Family Manse

My sister has reported more activity back at my family's home.

(1) Last week, at the beginning of the month as she turned off the television in the living room with the remote control, it turned itself back on and this happened three times throughout the week.

(2) Back in July, the kitchen cupboard door closest to the stove swung open slowly. There were no breezes, the windows were shut and the cupboard door had been latched.

I can remember these events from my time living there: the television was the most annoying. No matter what television, no matter in which room, the television would always come on by itself or shut off by itself or change channels. There was no predicting when this would occur but I would end up reading instead or watching the channel that "it" selected. Do our ghosts have control issues?!?

I've Looked At Clouds From Both Sides Now...

We're all still grieving poor Avery's death. It was so sudden and unexpected. The grief is pulling at me, making it hard for me to do anything. It feels as if I'm trying to walk in deep water.

I didn't want to do my readings on Friday. Then, when I met the people, I was glad that I had done the readings.

One of my clients was a soldier who had been to the world's political hotspots. In the past, I didn't think that I could put myself in the boots of a soldier but I found myself doing so quite easily.

There are some psychic similarities between soldiers and psychics: we both carry around images that most people will never see or have to see.

Though I couldn't ever imagine myself in the role of a soldier, I have grown spiritually through reading for him. He was, in fact, a very spiritual person. I think the fact that I'm not a flake and, in fact, that I am quite practical, impressed him.

Immediately afterwards, instead of "decompressing" as I normally would, Scully and I took Mini-Me to the park for some swinging and sliding. It was nice to get out in the evening but I still carried all the readings around in my head and it made me irritable.

Note to self: do some kind of mental exercises after a day's worth of readings.

My Beloved Cat

My beloved cat died yesterday.

This illustrates perfectly that I oftentimes have no prescience when it comes to my OWN life.

We were all saying good-bye to our other cat, Alabama, who appeared to be dying of renal failure. With the farewell over, my husband put her into the vehicle and drove to our animal hospital.

I looked behind me at the back porch and saw something small and dark for a second near Avery, then it disappeared.

Not a second later, Avery let out a howl of sorts. I ran over to the back porch because it seemed as if he might have had a hairball. I didn't think he was dying: it hadn't even occurred to me. After some few minutes, I realized that he was gone and I called my husband.

He was waiting in the Vet's office with the other cat when I reached him.

"Avery's dead!" I shouted.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Hurry home, honey. Avery is DEAD!!!"

It was an unbelievable day. Scully stayed home from work and we were all sick with grief. I had to explain to our two-year-old daughter that Avery "was sick and had to go stay with other cats now." I think it helped her to process the absence without unnecessary detail that could frighten and confuse her.

After she went to bed, we held a tiny funeral for him.


Avery, June 1995 - August 2, 2005

A Musical Guest

It's four a.m. and I can report ghostly activity.

Our enclosed porch is accessible only by us: it's locked from the outside and no people or animals can gain access.

About 10 minutes ago, Mini-Me's 10-in-1 Musical Combo toy started playing for about 20 seconds. When I went to the porch, I could see the lights of the toy indicating certain buttons had been pushed. When I opened the door from the living room to take a closer look, I noticed that the cat was sitting about 4 feet away from the toy. I Wondered if it had been the cat as she jumped off her chair and came inside. I closed the door and locked it.

Five minutes later, the same toy was making the same musical noise (indicating the same buttons had been pushed) and there was nobody out there. These buttons requuire some force to activate: a mere breeze wouldn't do it. In fact, Mini-Me often tries with her foot to do it and she cannot.

There are no other signs. I have seen nothing and don't pick anything up right now though I imagine it will make more sense after I sleep.

Usually, if a ghost has a message he/she will appear in my dreams or I will "just know".

In The Absence of Posts

I have to apologize for my absence. It seems there is little to write about these days that doesn't involve my babysitting woes. My sister had agreed to babysit and now she, too, has decided that she simply can't.

What am I to do? My family promised to help me and I'm booked into October/early November.

Part of me is fed up with everything. I'm fed up with seeing/sensing things, fed up with everything about it and fed up with trying to balance family, home and work. I need a vacation.

Now, this doesn't mean that I'm GIVING up, just that I'm FED up. I needed to vent. There. I think I'm done.

I'll come back in a better mood, I promise.

The Blue Lady

I forgot to record my sister's ghostly encounter that took place in my home and, then, I forgot that it had occurred.

She said that she had seen an elderly woman wearing blue and going out the back door.

I haven't seen this particular ghost. I do know, however, that an elderly woman used to live here at one point. (We still get mail from the Rev. Billy Graham organization addressed to her.)

Her sighting occurred about two weeks ago.

Wow!

At 5:00 a.m., I woke with a start. There was noise coming from downstairs. Burglars? Half asleep, I strained to make out the sounds: a man and woman having a conversation! Scully and Mini-Me were sound asleep.

Ghosts! For the first time in my life, I was a little uneasy and didn't go downstairs.

Ghosts aren't new to me but to be awakened by the noise is extremely disturbing.

The Fundamental Things Apply...

More babysitting woes. My mother, out of spite, decided that she will no longer babysit Mini-Me. This definitely leaves me in a bind.

On an emotional level, I was able to confront my mother for the first time ever today. I think that her behaviour helped me muster the courage.

We went to some good friends' new home--toddler in tow--for dinner and it went well. I didn't have to write any cheques to replace priceless broken figurines, etc.

Last night, as I explained, I had my last tarot party. It was a bittersweet experience: it was clear to me that I enjoyed doing this kind of event but it was also clear that I want my evenings to be dedicated to my family.

Scary tales from some clients about the trouble in which their adult children have found themselves. In these stories, I see the soul-grabbing dedication of mothers and the heart-stopping seediness that exists around every corner--that I can't see from where I sit--in the city nearby.

The Parties Are Over

I can't think of what to write these days. My babysitter bailed on me completely. My mother doesn't want to come up to babysit, just to visit.

Thankfully, my sister has come to stay with us until she finds an apartment of her own. I get a built-in babysitter for a couple of weeks.

Finally, my very last tarot party EVER is on Friday night. I was doing them every week before the baby arrived; then, I stopped booking them and simply met my commitments. So this one, booked almost a year ago, is the last one. For so many reasons, I wanted to stop. Suffice it to say that I don't enjoy the "entertainment" aspect of things and I really, truly have no time. My reading schedule is extremely busy and weekends are for family.

Sleepless

It wasn't "just a sore throat". I have laryngitis and I am putting up with relentless teasing by Scully. Even my toddler keeps putting her finger to her lips and saying, "Shhhhhh..." when I speak. She then bursts into laughter. Her reaction and my own voice are both pretty funny.

I cancelled my reading first thing yesterday morning and the client was happy to avoid becoming sick.

Maybe I overdosed on Bradosol candies last night. I had one nightmare after another but they weren't of the prophetic variety.

I was also up most of the night, too, after 3:00 a.m.. I always wake after my dreams but I was unable to return to sleep due to coughing and fever.

The Sick Psychic

I don't get sick but I'm getting sick. It's my throat. Fortunately, I kept my schedule light for Canada Day: only one reading. I'll just keep sucking on Ricola drops.

I keep thinking of T.S. Eliot:

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless...
(The Waste Land)

(Of course, being psychic doesn't work that way. In fact, I have never even won a contest! It's about other people, about helping people.)

Last year at around this time, I had laryngitis. I had to cancel several readings one day because I had absolutely no voice. Hopefully, it will just remain a sore throat.

O, Ms. Vanderbilt!

I feel confident that she did not foresee this one particular point of etiquette (at least, not specifically), so I must address it myself:

Please don't email/call your regular psychic for "one quick question" and expect him/her to respond without compensation.

(I'm not talking about the people who write to me through this blog. That is a different matter.)

Really, one couldn't expect to contact a lawyer and ask for "one quick affidavit" without expecting to pay for it, right?

Frankly, if I were to respond to each and every request, it would amount to spending all of my time answering questions for free.

I want to help. I really do. This is why freebie requests create discomfort.

Where are MY manners?

Thank you to the person who recently reviewed my blog. I'm glad that you enjoy it.

Vacation

My sister left yesterday with promises to return once weekly. Unfortunately, she's ill again and I won't be seeing her until next week. Throughout her stay, it felt like a vacation.

Speaking of which...

I had been hoping to take the month of October off from readings but, after Scully's veto, I am now booking into that month, too. I guess I just wanted to take a vacation. There's always about a four-month waiting period to see me. I thought that I would use the month to renew myself. Maybe I'll take up yoga instead.

My sister reports more activity back at the family home: a cupboard door swinging open in the kitchen and the appearance of The Lady (as I refer to her).

Discomfort

The Personal

I booked today off in advance because I had a doctor's appointment. I have been extremely emotional lately due to a combination of many things.

I'm not yet settled into this home of ours: I have no space of my own. There are workbenches, power tools and paint supplies in every major area. I would just love to have an office space and, one day, it will be done; however, there are several other rooms that need to be done first.

The Family

So far, just about everyone in the family has now noticed Mini-Me's "discussions" that take place within the presence of people and without. Scully pointed it out the other day: the laughing, the answering of unheard questions. I'm pretty sure my sister and mother have talked about it.

Scully has admitted to instances of thinking he sees (out of the corner of his eye) someone in the house; it often happens for me in my gardens. Of course there are ghosts in my home! It's just rare that Scully relates accounts of his experiences. It's rare, too, that he classifies his experiences as paranormal.

My sister has been visiting since Wednesday and I'm so glad: it's as if I'm on vacation. She changes Mini-Me's diapers, offers to give her meals and tells me to rest. Ah, sisters...

The Movies



We watched Birth, starring Nicole Kidman, and we weren't exactly impressed. (I don't mean 'we' in the imperial sense: my sister and I). It is a disappointing, oftentimes disturbing, tale of reincarnation that lacks character depth/development. Boundary-pushing dialogue and situations induce intentional discomfort in the audience and realize conflict in the main characters. Ultimate resolution of the conflicts is not really worth the wait.



We also attempted to watch the American version of The Grudge, starring Sarah Michelle Gellar, but I kept dozing. I will have to try to see it again on a day when I'm less exhausted. From what I could discern, there seemed to be some interesting deviations from the original (which I could discuss later.)

Long Standing And A Little Sitting

I gave a rare, late-evening reading for a long-standing client who ended up having to wait nine months to see me.

This was rare for me because evenings and weekends are reserved for my family. She was grateful and I was glad that I had relaxed my policies a bit for her.

I booked several appointments this morning, watered my front gardens and I did these while Mini-Me slept.

Last night, during an even rarer event (a spare, quiet moment), I could see the moon from where I sat in the living room. Our neighbourhood is in a very rural setting, surrounded largely by a conservation area. My living-room window framed the trees and old garage and, as the wind gently shook the branches and leaves, I saw the moon. It was a moment of clarity and respite from the chaos.

The Week In Review

The Fat Psychic

Well, this week was interesting. One client offered me a "personal training" session (which I think, I hope, I declined). People automatically assume that I am unhappy with my weight, that I would like to shed it.

The Busy Psychic

I've noticed this change: I rarely have to send reminders to clients about upcoming appointments: they call me to confirm.

The Family Psychic

My sister and I were on the 'phone yesterday when she received another call. I pressed her for information about who had called and why she was letting me go. A "couple" were the callers and, as soon as she told me, I got chills and started shaking. I tried to ignore my reaction because I can't control my sister's life and I didn't think she would listen.

Many hours later, my sister had left shortly after our call, my mother and I were talking. I divulged to my mother my severe reaction and she, in turn, admitted that she was worried sick. I told her that the couple were plotting, that my sister was in danger and that I was very afraid.

Later still, unable to contain myself, I placed my third call to my mother begging her to ring my sister's cell. Instead, she gave me the cell number that I had forgotten. I let it ring and ring but my sister did not pick up. Resigned to inaction, I went to sleep.

The baby woke us at 6:00 a.m. and I waited until 8:30 to telephone my parents: my sister had returned home in the wee hours. As it turns out, my sister, at first, would not discuss what had happened; then, she revealed that the couple had robbed her of her money ($40.00) and left her stranded in the middle of the night in a strange city. She had no bank card and no credit card. She finally did get a ride home from someone else and, shaken and frightened, has learned a lesson.

Just A Thought...



I think I saw Poltergeist at the wrong time. I was thirteen, it was at the cinema and, frankly, I was dealing with this phenomena at home. To this day, however, I don't support the accepted definitions of poltergeists.

At that time, what I experienced was pretty exasperating but mild. Leaving the cinema, I couldn't tell what was going to happen to me or my family.

The events that we lived through were pretty run-of-the-mill where such activity is concerned: objects moving, physics-defying destruction of property and performances for guests.

Checking In

Today, I didn't get a chance to listen to my messages. The baby is going through a very difficult stage and so much of my energy was focussed on just getting through the day.

I have journeyed deeper into Angels & Demons. I'm going to reserve indepth comment for now and simply state that I am enjoying it: it's good suspense. It's interesting so far.

There was no ghostly activity that we were aware of today. Interestingly, however, a photograph of my great-grandfather was found outside its frame, behind other frames. I discovered this the other day when Scully was "weirded out" by things. I must say how proud I am of him. Instead of picking away at the situation for even the slightest implausible scientific interpretation of events, he pretty much said, "Holy ----!"

I have been tackling my children's book collection and, afterward, I will start cataloguing my books on ghosts and spirituality. This could take for-freakin'-ever.

Guess Who...

Scully has had the lion's share of 'paranormal' experiences today.

He yelled up the stairs while I was in the bath. He knew that the baby was napping (and that we really like it when she is napping), so, I thought, it must be important.

"I think the ghosts want you."

"Huh?"

The cabinet door (behind where he had been sitting in the dining room) had popped open without impetus.

"It wouldn't even close," he explained.

Then, after my bath and while the baby was eating her lunch, I stood outside the back door. My husband was setting up his mitre saw.

The security alarm went off at the front door, then the doorbell rang. Thinking that it was my father-in-law, I ran to the front door and swung it open to find nobody. I peeked around each corner (he could have been hiding) but, still, the porch held no visitor.

"That's just...bizarre," he opined. Then, with a shrug, he added, "Better find out what they want."

Aged Angel Statues and Ferns...

If anyone is thinking about coming to the Great Lakes region of Ontario, consider this: the heat and humidity are stifling this month.

It's not possible to air-condition a turn-of-the-century home unless there are modern windows. Our windows are as the title (or should I say, titular?) picture of this blog shows: mullioned. (That is, by the way, a picture taken by yours truly of the window between the first and second floors: it is about 9 feet in height and it was during our first winter blizzard last year.)

My readings are late in the day today, so I don't have to rush around cleaning. My mother and sister will be babysitting.

Due to the lengthy (months-long) wait for an appointment with me, many people have requested to be put on a "cancellation list". If only I were that organized! I do my best. Usually people don't cancel, thankfully, so it isn't much of a problem. I am going to think of a way to devise a cancellation system. Maybe put a form on my website? I don't know.

I don't have a lot of spare time so I generally just let things coast. My business kind of runs itself.

A Medium's Media

My husband, an IT professional, insists that his family is geared with the best. At any rate, I must be a very connected psychic: personal digital assistant, laptop, desktop, wi-fi, and more...

Yesterday, he surprised me with a USB mini-light. It lights up my keyboard.



Tomorrow, I will happily accept delivery of my universal wireless keyboard for my palm. Actually, I have been wanting this for a long time and, finally, Scully agreed that it was essential for me. Yay for me!

What Was I Thinking...?

My babysitter bailed on me this week. It was a horrible, gruelling struggle to find someone. I seriously considered cancelling the rest of this year's schedule but I think I was just overwhelmed. I was promised that it would never happen again.

Being a professional pyschic is still work and, as for any working mother, it's a battle to keep all of the balls in the air while juggling. Sometimes, it is easier than at other times.

For some reason, while out for my daily walk with Mini-Me, I decided that renting a movie could work for me. After all, it was just a 2-hour-or-so commitment, right?

I rented, Darkness.



Ack. It didn't work. I tried admirably hard to find the time. Finally, with the DVD already two days late, I sat down to watch it. Unfortunately, with about 30 minutes until the end, Mini-Me awoke from her nap. The material just wasn't suitable for an almost-two-year-old child.

Tomorrow should be interesting. I had to get my Mother-in-Law to fill in.

Even a psychic can't see everything coming. Last night, while in the kitchen, I asked my husband for a glass. Neither of us was paying attention and I ended up walking straight into the glass that Scully was handing to me. Consequently, I have a HUGE bump on my forehead.

It's just one of those things. Mini-Me keeps pointing to it. She wants to know if it hurts.

Only when I smile.

Change and Routine

Three months ago, I decided to book this past Friday off: no readings, no work-related issues. Happily, it coincided with our reno schedule. My husband was off this week, too.

Thank you to the person who reviewed this blog. I know that it takes some time and commitment to do so and I appreciate it.

I wanted a change and decided to alter the background colour, etc. I hope it works. I guess the rationale behind avoiding the black background in the first place was to avoid playing into the stereotypes about psychics and the paranormal. I truly hate the "flake" factor that comes with the territory.

This being said, I've begun to read Dan Brown's Angels & Demons. (Forgive me for not searching for a more thought-provoking link.)



The very title put me off but I can't resist a good mystery or a good piece of genre-writing in general.

Last night's dream: a heavy-set, female ghost with long hair walked past me and told me that she would be present at the next reading. She disappeared into a building before I could ask why.

Umm, O.K.

While this is not unusual for me, I can't help but get a little irked that I'm never told why. It does become clear during the reading but why the heads-up?

Oh, well.

The Nursery

My readings this week went quickly but my babysitters (family) flew out of the house like bats from a cave just minutes afterwards.

"Did you see a ghost? You know they're really harmless." They were behaving as if they were (uncharacteristically) frightened considering their own experiences with ghosts.

"No, no...We just have to get...going. Bye now!"

I think the nursery freaks people out though Mini-Me is not bothered in the least. She is perfectly safe in that room and she knows this.

Oft have I been sitting with her only to discover that she is laughing and speaking with someone directly behind me.

"O.K.," she giggles and puts her hands to her mouth to stifle laughter. "Fun!"

She is so very well-behaved. There were no tantrums during my readings.

I hope that this week's events don't indicate years of revolving-door babysitters due to an unsettling feeling that comes over some people.

What Would It Take...?

I don't scare easily. I have been the lead investigator in many investigations. At the actual event, I have taken the lead in another sense because I trod through without the slightest hesitation whereas many will not.

More than once, following a night of investigation, I have been asked: is there anything that frightens you?

Well, just about the only thing that could have me wanting to run screaming from a house while vowing never to return would be a tantruming toddler who refuses to sleep two days in a row...

Seriously, however, the 'paranormal' doesn't frighten me...anymore. Certainly, when I was much younger, my curiosity about what was happening to me was tinged with a bit of fear because I simply didn't understand. Now, there are still aspects of my abilities that I don't understand and, in these cases, fear has been replaced with a desire to learn.

Declining and Reclining

Representatives from a clothing chain/store contacted me this past week: they wanted me to participate in a tarot-reading event. They already have a psychic but wanted one with a good reputation instead and, according to them, I am highly reputable. Blush.

I declined. Suffice it to say that I'm very busy.

I couldn't stay awake at around 6:00 a.m. this morning. So, Scully kindly poured coffee into me. Later in the day, while Mini-Me napped, I kicked off my shoes to watch Ju-On: The Grudge.



I have to say that I didn't find it frightening at all; however, I felt compelled to continue watching it.

What fascinated me most were the glimpses into Japanese culture: the architecture, especially, held my attention.

I didn't realize that it was based on two other films.

If you're interested, here is the official website.

I must note that I've not seen the U.S. remake starring Sarah Michelle Gellar.



I think I have to watch it now.

Just Today Stuff

There are many readings tomorrow and maybe even getting my kitchen floor washed by my mother. She likes to do it and I don't know why.

It was a difficult day for myself and Mini-Me. There were tantrums and difficulties with sleeping and shopping.

While in line at the grocery store:

"Oh! Did your daughter lose her shoe?"

The baby is screaming and won't be consoled. Now, she's kicking.

"No, thanks. I have it here..." By way of apology for the scene, I find myself beginning an explanation:

"It has been a hard day..." We walk out and leave the grocery bags on the counter.

I had a difficult time with many other things, including trying to return business calls, requests for appointments. Somehow, when Scully came home, I was able to start supper, feed the baby and book some appointments.

Interesting To Me

Having done many hundreds of readings, I think I'm still surprised by people who come to a psychic not once but two or three times and still try to test the person.

Examples in point:

(1) people book back-to-back appointments with a "friend" who is actually a spouse or a family member;

(2) people try to conceal the identity of the person(s) by whom they were referred.

To be honest, it doesn't matter to me. The thing is, I ALWAYS know. I call the party on it and we move on from there.

I could understand doing this the first time visiting a particular psychic. What about the second and third times? This is costing the person(s) money. It can't be a matter of trust; otherwise, why would someone come back?

I think it's time for bed.

The Veil

I can't help it. I shop the DVD bargain-bins all the time. You will note several of my past "findings" have been mentioned.

Well, today, I did it again. After three readings, I had a good amount of time to head over to the plaza. At the hardware store, I found, The Veil. It has been hailed, apparently, as "one of the greatest television series that was never aired."



Featuring Boris Karloff--who assumes several roles--it contains five "spine-tingling episodes" of "freaky phenomena" in black & white.

If anyone has any information about when it was filmed, please let me know. I'm being lazy, actually, since a simple search would fill me in. I'm tired. I hit the ground running at 5:30 this morning and now I'm complaining, too.

Good night.

One Step Beyond



While browsing in a bargain shop yesterday, I found a 3-episode DVD of the 1959 show. I was elated!

The disk sleeve declares: "These are "real stories" of the supernatural featuring twisted tales of ghosts, disappearances and other explained mysteries. Truth or fiction? You make the call."

The episodes featured:

The Affair
Anniversary of a Murder
The Boxer

Topper (1953)



I also found one of my favourite TV Series as well. (Based on the film series which was based on the novels by Thorne Smith.)

The episodes featured:

Second Honeymoon
Trip to Lisbon
The Proposal

I paid one CDN dollar per DVD.

Happy May Day

From Miscellanea & Ephemera:

My mother being Irish, she used to tell me all about May Day while I was growing up. I like to acknowledge it in some way.

The Return of May

Hail! fairy queen, adorned with flowers,
Attended by the smiling hours,
'Tis thine to dress the rosy bowers
In colours gay:
We love to wander in thy train,
To meet thee on the fertile plain
To bless thy soft propitious reign,
O lovely May!


'Tis thine to dress the vale anew,
In fairest verdure bright with dew;
And harebells of the mildest blue,
Smile in thy way;
Then let us welcome pleasant spring,
And still the flowery tribute bring,
And still to thee our carol sing,
O lovely May!
Now by the genial zephyr fanned,
The blossoms of the rose expand;
And reared by thee with gentle hand,
Their charms display;
The air is balmy and serene,
And all the sweet luxuriant scene
By thee is clad in tender green.
O lovely May!

Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans (1793 - 1835)

Happy May Day! I have no May Pole (just one in my memory from Barbados) and I haven't washed my face in May Dew (said to make a plain woman beautiful) or walked barefoot in the dew (said to ensure healthy feet).

Read more about Irish culture and customs on this day.

Maybe I will go wash my face...

***

Don't tell my other blog, but I DID go out and run barefoot in the dew...and even washed my face.

When Good Ghosts Do Bad Things...

Two members of my family were complaining bitterly the other day about teaspoons: they couldn't find one among dozens bought in the last while.

It was then that I spoke of Collin, a ghost hanging around their home. I am familiar with the ghosts of my family's home but I had not seen him before.

I told them to say, "Collin, enough is enough. Give us back our spoons!" The next day, behold, there were all the spoons in the kitchen, dozens of them.

The following day, however, my sister wondered where the cat was. She is an indoor cat and nobody thought to look for her outside. There she was, however, at the front door, scratching to get in. Nobody had opened the doors throughout the day.

Collin is being a pain. However annoying, he is harmless.

O What A Day

I had a pretty good day of readings yesterday. This means that my mother, who comes to babysit, did not drive me completely crazy. She even washed my kitchen floor.

Curiously, a woman who has pestered me for a reading for months--back and forth with rescheduling, etc.--did not show for her appointment. I might have to get tough with people who don't show: Scully suggests that, should someone call to reschedule AFTER having missed an appointment without notice, I should tell the person that the appointment will need to be prepaid.

I think he's right. At the moment, I'm booked far in advance and people wait so long for an appointment that the particular appointment slot yesterday could easily have gone to someone else.

The other appointments--repeats--went really well.

Our living room where, at the moment, I conduct my readings is starting to look normal again since the new sectional sofa arrived.

Amityville Horror (2005)

Add this to my list of movies to see.

I realize that the rumours have been swirling for many years about the authenticity of reports of the family's experiences; however, even if a hoax had occurred, it wouldn't mean that the house isn't haunted.

I found the original movie truly creepy and, trust me, it takes a lot to frighten me.

Article

I've been writing an article for this blog and your patience is much appreciated.

I don't get many opportunities to write or to read these days, but I have been trying to get some done everyday. Thank you, Caillou. Mini-Me loves Caillou and looks forward to a video at 9:00 a.m. each day. Her naps have all but disappeared.

Leaping Up or Forward

Another radio show on Sunday. I guess it went pretty well: people mostly asked about recovering lost jewellery. I was approached by another radio host to do another show on another station.

I wasn't myself. I think that when I have been away from reading and writing, my equilibrium is disturbed. I need books. I need to write.

I have been working steadily on my house, a house that, according to an acquaintance "looks like a psychic should live here". I think that was a compliment.

The house is not ancient (1920) but it is surrounded by original terraces of moss-covered stone. The enclosed porch spans the entire width of our large house and the backyard stretches for one quarter of an acre. The original carriage house at the back would have accommodated perfectly a 1920's car but it is used largely as a shed by us.

I hope that, by now, your eyes have not glazed over due to boredom and that you will permit me one further indulgence: a brief discussion of how I decorated the front porch: vintage lace and linen, old wicker and wrought iron, ferns with other lush plants. I can't help it: the messier and more rustic, the better.

I hope to read and write out there -- during Mini-Me's naps -- this spring/summer.

Ghosts / Calls Waiting

Yesterday felt like the longest day that I'd had in a while.

My father-in-law called to see if I needed any help.

"You sure do have a lot on your hands. A sick husband, a baby..."

"Don't forget a business. I have a business, too."

(He laughed sympathetically.)

"If you need any help, just give us a call."

I need a bath, I thought. And a walk.

With a baby into everything and throwing tantrums and toilet training, returning calls requesting appointments was difficult and fraught with obstacles. I did manage to book several appointments. (This is actually a daily reality.)

Sleep is restless. Ghost dreams alternate with parental-anxiety dreams. Lately, when a ghost tries to communicate this way, I feel like saying, "Just leave a message and I'll get back to you."

As For Myself, Restless

Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost...
(Shakespeare, The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth, Act III, Scene II, line 169)

My ghost dreams last night were pretty intense.

There were hundreds, all at once, marching through the streets. I got the impression that they had all died at the same time, in the same tragedy. They were protesting something but I woke before I could discern what it was.

I told a woman, also a ghost, about those that I had seen marching. She was so preoccupied with the contents and state of her last life that she would not listen to me.

Frustrated, with a sense that I could not accomplish what I was supposed to have done, all the while being absorbed in this latter ghost's activities, I woke.

Oftentimes, the psychic don't get to rest even when they sleep...

Capturing Castles

From Miscellanea & Ephemera blog:

Jeesh, I have been away for quite some time. I have been working on some reviews that I hope to post soon. Otherwise, there's not much to tell you.

I confess to having bought some really good books lately, some vintage and others new. (Said items bought in defiance of a moratorium and said moratorium was issued by yours truly. Well, I'm changeable.)

Most recently, I bought I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith, published 1948. (Dodie Smith also authored 101 Dalmations). It's a book that I have been considering for quite some time (every Monday, actually, at the local store). What finally convinced me to take the leap was finding a movie based on the novel. Now, I'm intrigued.

Now, not only have I not read the novel, I also haven't seen the movie. I will have to come back to this. Soon.

Poor Scully...

It must be difficult living with someone who makes strange announcements all the time.

"There's going to be an accident on your way to work today in X. There are multiple cars but you're not involved. It's just...kind of close to home for me."

"Huh? Okay." Off my husband goes to backslashdotcom all day and he doesn't really think about my prediction.

At the end of the day, he comes home, I greet him and we go about our evening routine. During a commercial break, he says, "Oh, yeah. You were right. There was an accident in X, multiple cars. It really made traffic bad."

Dublin - Malahide Castle

I need to make mention of a good little article that describes Malahide Castle, the oldest inhabited castle in Ireland:

...its 800-year-old family history is haunted with many
unseen and unknown spirits and their presence is made to believe in
every room.

I always wanted to live in a castle while growing up. It just seemed...fitting. My life was naturally filled with so many gothic elements that no one could have blamed me.

At any rate, it would have been difficult to heat, nigh impossible to decorate with any great fidelity to its originating architectural period and my interest in the gothic is now pretty much confined to literature and film. I do have to admit, however, that I love a good thunder-and-lightening storm.

Here is the said article printed in the Economic Times of India.

Movies To Watch

Having a baby in the house now means that I often have to choose only one of these options when there is spare time:

(1) sleep
(2) eat
(3) bathe
(4) write
(5) read

I should add one more option: (6) watch a movie.

Over the past few months, I have accumulated some DVDs that I would love to watch. Though not in this order, this is the list of movies that I will have to make time to watch:

13 Ghosts (1960)
The Invisible Ghost (1941)
The House on Haunted Hill (1959)
Dominique (1978)
Carnival of Souls (1962)
Death at Love House (1976)

As you can tell, I appreciate the older film. There are some classic movies of the 1970s centred around "reincarnation" that are really very good. I will list these later.

The Things That Make You Laugh...

I've spent most of my dream-life receiving information from ghosts and this has increased even more so in the past two years. I don't know why they come to me with information. That's just what happens and--though it can be uncomfortable at times--I don't find it frightening in the least.

The other night, I dreamt that my CAT was smoking a CIGARETTE and it completely freaked me out! Since the baby has come to live with us, I guess I feel like I'm not taking the same degree of care of my cats that I used to. They still get my attention but it now has to be shared with a baby who DEMANDS my constant attention. So, could my cats really be running wild and getting into trouble ? :-)

Holding Up, Hanging In

Wow, babies are incredible and absolutely demanding, darling little creatures. I can't believe how much my life has changed in a month. For one thing, I am up at 4 or 5 a.m. daily. That never used to happen. For another thing, there is this amazing little being demanding my utmost attention at all times. What is more, I don't seem to have much time for myself. Because I also run a business, I have professional responsibilities. I must say, however, that a bath feels absolutely luxurious when I get to have one. I also have a very helpful husband: Scully changes diapers, plays with and tends to her needs very wonderfully when not at work.

I was finally able to resolve the scheduling conflicts and now have a babysitter for my reading days.

There has been no time to read and no time to watch cool movies though my movie pal assures me that she is holding my place for me. I need to get to a movie soon.

Though much of my learning lately has revolved around baby, I've learned some startling professional things as well: I'm considered "famous" by people in the city and surrounding regions. It is true that people have come from way up north and from far south, but I didn't take it to mean that I was "known". Strange, as I've said before, as long as I FEEL anonymous, I'm ok with it.

Every now and then, however, something intrudes on my feeling of anonymity. This time, my sister related a conversation she had with some of her new acquaintances:

"My sister is a professional psychic and she's on television, radio, etc. a lot."

"Oh, yeh? What's her name?"

My sister's answer garnered this:

"Oh, she's your sister? I've heard she's good."

Well, now my blushing commences for having typed this, I'm still shocked. I always am.

Always one to make me laugh, my sister asked if I ever had the feeling that people are staring at me. "Well, they sometimes are!"

Tele-Vision

I did have another TV appearance -- national -- another live question-and-answer. It went well. Lots of calls, then lots of appointments.

The hardest part for me was getting ready: I needed a babysitter to keep Gigi company while I got ready. Wow, it was such a luxury to sit in a bath for more than 3 minutes. I was there to feed her and brush her teeth with her but mostly my mother-in-law cared for her. I'm going to look into this babysitting thing. My husband and I would like to have a date.

My mother comes up to babysit so that I can get my readings done during the week. Yay! It works out.

Schedules and the Toddler-esque

Eek! I have fallen into the vast blog abyss of the non-poster. I apologize. Really, I do. If you don't believe me: a thousand times, I apologize.

To keep you posted: I have decided not to reschedule any of my parties or investigations (weekly) though I now have a toddler in tow. Scully will babysit in the city of party or investigation. I will be the one with camera, video camera, digital voice recorder, etc. or whatever I need for the occasion.

For local investigations, I have recruited those who have expressed an interest in accompanying me.

I haven't had time to peruse the most recent issue of Ghost! Magazine (which magazine I received a few weeks ago, I believe).

I have placed a moratorium on book-buying, both personally and professionally. My $100.00-per-month habit was not sustainable. My husband will be awake with me through the withdrawal symptoms.

Hmmm...I still have not seen the television show, "Medium" and, truthfully, I will probably not see it. Nor have I seen "Most Haunted" which is still Most Talked About among my clients.

The toys that were activated and noisy at the home of my family-of-origin are here and have been very quiet.

As I may have mentioned earlier, my readings resume on Friday which means that I have only two days left in which to make this house look less Toddleresque.

Update

My unscheduled absence from this blog has been due the fact that my husband and I are now raising my 18-month-old daughter, Gigi, and I am adjusting to the new schedule.

Well, blogging has been difficult for me since Gigi came to live with us. I'm sure that I'll get back on track shortly.

There hasn't been much going on that is worth reporting: I'm still doing readings but I have taken a 2-week vacation by rescheduling appointments. The only appointments that I didn't reschedule were parties.

I've had a few clients say, "Oh, I have children and I don't mind being interrupted if you'll still read for me at my appointment date/time." Something like that.

Gigi was awake until 5:00 a.m. with teething symptoms so neither of us has had much sleep.

I See Double

Very little sleep is making me sound stupid while dealing with clients who continue to phone. Performing a simple matter of mulitiplication required effort.

I wish that I could write more.

Having a baby around the house full-time is not easy.

Just A Day...

On waking this morning, I received a call from a radio station requesting an interview. It was just a minute or so in length but would I be interested in doing it?

I gave the interview while getting Scully ready for work. (Did I mention that, in my few spare moments, I am also a housewife?) It aired at around 12:30 or so.

I also struggled with the idea of calling my mother (difficult to do even in a crisis, I'm afraid.) A ghost around her visited me in my dreams last night and asked me to pass along a message to her. This happens nightly but doesn't usually involve my mother.

Then...Maybe the surprise I experience is a good thing. I know that people come to see me from all over the province. I was just surprised to learn that my first client of the day took two trains and two buses to get here.

Now, I wait for my final client of the day.

icCheshireOnline - Guests flock for ghosts galore at hotel

I still haven't seen this show. I know, I know. People think that I should be watching this kind of show all the time. I LIVE it, however, and sometimes that's more than enough for me.

GHOST-HUNTERS who have flocked to a hotel have not been disappointed, according to a staff member who sees the resident spooks almost weekly.

The 350-year-old Old Hall Hotel in High Street, Sandbach was thrown into the spotlight by cult TV show Most Haunted - broadcast on satellite channel LivingTV - which identified 14 ghosts in its rooms.

During the hour-long show viewers saw spirit medium Derek Acorah, helped by spirit friend Sam, tap into the lives of more than a dozen ghostly apparitions.

The hall, built by Sir John Radcliffe in 1656, has gained a reputation as one of Britain's most haunted hotels.

Now hotel assistant Lisa Davies says Room 11, which had most paranormal activity, is booked up until May.

She said: 'We get people saying they have seen the ghosts all the time.

'I have seen the lady in the hall on a number of occasions. The first time I could not believe my eyes, but I am so used to seeing her now it doesn't bother me.

'You just have to accept them. They don't do any harm, they are a bit mischievous, like stealing things and moving stuff around, but they have never been bad to anyone.'

The hotel is reputed to be haunted by a guest who hanged himself, an elderly woman dressed in black and children who can be heard playing hide and seek.

Room 11 is alleged to be inhabited by the ghost of a servant and her large ginger cat. Another spirit terrifies guests by turning on taps and pushing them under water as they bathe, as one of the Most Haunted film crew experienced.

But Old Hall owner Sue Hall says people come from all over the country to stay at the hotel.

'One of the first calls we got after the show aired was from a guest cancelling his booking in Room 11, but in the main people are really interested,' she said.

Mr. Acorah's reputation is stellar.

Drained? Probably Not

Yesterday, I think I got very tired after my readings. I fell asleep around 8:00 pm and awoke just after 7:00 this morning. Frankly, I'm still tired but I have a lot to do before my last reading of the day at 6:00 pm.

I'm not sure that it's actually to do with the readings (though I have an inordinate number throughout the week) that I am tired: my diet has changed. I'm eating less (but better) these days and having longer days.

I always have clients express concern: don't you get tired? Is a party too tiring for you? They've known psychics before and these people always got tired. I don't know. I'm always likely to attribute fatigue to something else and I don't worry about burning out.

I'm glad for the warm weather approaching. Winter in general tires me. I become more lethargic. I've never understood those who have fun in the snow. Sure, there are snowangels and snowmen to make but skiing? Nah, not for me. I like walking.

Uncomfortable Relay

I think I've mentioned that I have ghosts in my dreams? Well, I'm completely aware in my dream that I am speaking with a ghost and I have total recall of the experience. Unfortunately, this happens many times a week and I sometimes don't get a lot of sleep. Thankfully, I'm pretty used to it and it doesn't scare me.

One night, I fell asleep and "Don" appeared to me. He walked quickly past me in a darkened hallway. He was tall, portly, dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt. He was also bald and loved motorcycles. Middle-aged.

Anyway, he said, "Tell her I love her!"

"Um, ok, but who are you?"

"It's Don," he said as if I should have known.

"Well, how will she know that I spoke to you?"

At this point, he pulled out a gun, stuck it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I woke up instantly.

The next day, I was going to be seeing a friend (whom I didn't know very well at all). I struggled with the idea of telling her about "Don". Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I pulled her aside.

"Er, did you have an uncle who died?"

"Yes."

"Was his name Don?"

She was more interested now. "Yes," she said.

"Was he, um, kind of big, bald and middle-aged? Liked motorcycles?"

"Yes, yes!" Her eyes were absolutely wide.

This was the hardest part. "Did he commit suicide? With a gun?"

"Geeezuz," she said, "that's him. Why do you ask??"

"He says to tell you he loves you."

Recently, In A Letter To A Friend...

I think it's unfortunate that I kicked off the new year in the following way. Oh, well.

Hmmm...idiot at the New Year's party. Well, we decided
to spend the evening with two friends at their party. As it turned out,
only 3 others made it: 2 of them were a couple.

I know the guy from my days at the university: he was a few years
ahead of me in philosophy, in the Doctorate program from which he
would eventually disappear. When I met him again through SCULLY's
friends, I instantly knew he was a jerk. His name is X.

So, while my friends are showing interest in what I do (they are
extremely supportive of my career choice), X has to talk to me about
what I do. My friends are dreading this, I can tell, and I am trying
to avoid eye contact. I can see him navigating around the room and,
finally, the conversation has to happen or I will be rude.

(SCULLY has decided to let me handle it: X is an idiot but I can
always hold my own. He had his own experiences with X while at
university: turns out SCULLY is far superior in intellect and better at
chess, too. The guy has consistently vied for the position of alpha
male ever since. Tedious.)

I entertain the questions about what I do for a living. He won't
leave me alone. He needs me to know that he thinks my psychic reading
cannot be real because it doesn't fall under the umbrella of science
and mathematics and, well, that's all there really is...blah, blah,
blah.

He also needs me to know that he believes that what I do with the
cards etc. can be easily explained. So, there's my chance to shut him
up: "What do I do with the cards? What does a psychic reading
involve? Do I use cards? Does that fact that I make predictions with
greater-than-average accuracy necessarily imply some statement about
the nature of reality, if such a Nature there be?" You see where I'm
going.

He won't be derailed. Despite the fact that he cannot adequately
explain what a reading is, that he can't tell me how my readings
proceed or what kind of predictions I make, he needs to establish his
superiority. He looks like an idiot. I tell him that his arguments
might be strengthened if actually knew something about what I did.

The only way that I can shake him off is by agreeing to call it an
evening when SCULLY asks if we could go...

It went on for hours and my head was hurting because I wanted to join
in the big people's conversation. :(

Anyway, I felt like telling him how inappropriate it was to expect
anyone to defend his/her career choice and no less so at a party!

At any rate, thanks for permitting me the rant.

At least I got to rant about it. Hmmph.