Interesting article about communication at the link below.
Interesting article about communication at the link below.
My hubby and I had to make a quick run to the Fry’s grocery in Oro Valley to get some tamale supplies, and as we were leaving we heard the bell ringer out front along with another sound, the sound of brass instruments warming up.
I told hubby to go ahead and take the bags to the car while I investigated.
I took this pic of our bell ringer who, despite the mask, was joyful and full of cheer as she greeted me.
Across from her sat this group of fine gentlemen musicians warming up and preparing to bring cheer to the harried shoppers.
They are a group called Dulce and this is what their name means:
As hubby and I got into our vehicle we heard the cheery sound of four brass instruments filling the air with “Joy To the World.”
I’m not decorating for the holidays as I have in the past. It’s not because I have lost my Christmas spirit, but because it will be just hubby and I here, and our Christmas Eve and Christmas Day will be spent at my daughter’s place in Phoenix. Our grandson is there and the celebrating will go on in her house.
My son and his wife are in Florida so they are also doing their own thing as they wait for the arrival of my second grandson.
If we were going to host a gathering I would jump on the decorating bandwagon, but it’s just not worth it to me. I have a few special things I love that I will set up: my Byers Choice “A Christmas Carol” carolers. I asked hubby to put up a few lights around the front porch, and I put out my holiday dishware and serving ware.
Since I wrote the previous, my husband found a few boxes of Christmas decorations that belonged to his parents. After their passing we went to Reno and cleared out a storage area of things of theirs. This Christmas tree and these decorations were part of it. We now have a precious little tree decorated with ornaments gathered over their 50+ year marriage.
An important part of the holidays of southern Arizona is the making of tamales. One thing to note about Mexican food is the food is distinct to the region. It is my personal opinion – but there is no better Mexican food than Sonoran. You may have a different opinion but you are wrong.
REAL food doesn’t have orange cheese, it is only white crumbled cows cheese that comes from Sonora, Mexico. It is always fresh, and the ingredients blend well, not disguised by cumin and chili powder! Also our Christmas tamales have a green pimento olive inside that represent the baby Jesus.
So, when you enter a grocery store anywhere in southern Arizona at Christmas you will find a display like this:
I told my husband I was going to email Bill Gates and tell him if he wrote me a check for $150k it would get us out of debt. On our own it will be years before that happens and I figured Gates wouldn’t even notice the cash was gone.
Consider: $150,000 vs $136,500,000,000.
My biggest problem is finding a way to contact him directly. Any of you know his email or cell phone number for a text? I hear he is philanthropic.
I have an update on my contemporary fiction “Anchor Bay”. I reached a stopping point, where my research and information, leaning heavily toward law enforcement details (I have a wonderful friend, a retired Lieutenant in the Tucson Police Department who provides information,) where things stalled. I needed that scene, the pivotal scene, the driver that would push the plot forward.
To my joy, I found it in my notes from months ago. A random interaction described as a possible scene, which worked perfect in this place. A strong plot and character development scene. WOO HOO!!
If you are like me you love an actual printed book, however I don’t want it if trees are being destroyed and the process is producing and dumping waste. Check out this article about positive efforts in publishing.
Most of the time hubby and I have had two dogs.
There is a specific reason for this besides the obvious social advantage for the dogs together. We make sure they are not the same age, a strategic move for us, so that when the oldest dog leaves us, we have the other dog to comfort ourselves with after the loss of the older dog. It has been a good plan for us.
We have had only our precious Millie since she came to us as a puppy. Well it is time to introduce all of you fine followers to Fred.
He is a mix of Great Pyrenees and Anatolian Mountain Dog with some hound. He is learning well to be here with us; you know all that puppy training stuff.
Just like we have done in the past he is being crate trained and he is adapting very well. This in the crate pic was taken after a couple of hours of running around the yard with Millie.
They are six years apart in age so we are confident in the knowledge that when it is Millie’s time to go 😢 we, Fred, hubby and I will be good comfort for each other.
They are already fun friends and Millie is a stellar big sister to him. He is learning about crates, doing potty outside, and returning the
neighborhood barks, although the first time he heard her big bad German Shepherd bark it freaked him out 🤣.
But after a time he settled down.
So, that is the introduction to our new baby. Oh…the cat is pissed😆!
By Nancy Vaughn
This story began when I found the grave of Michael, a little boy I used to babysit who died in a tragic car accident. I was a freshman in high school when it happened and I was stunned at the loss. Michael was the sweetest, gentle and kindest little guy there ever was. He always seemed to need something, but I never understood what it was. He carried a sweet sadness about him. His parents were divorced and had moved on with their lives. Michael and his sisters lived with their mother. His mother was a beautiful woman who worked hard, and tried to take really good care of her children. She also enjoyed going out to meet men, and there were plenty of them at the Air Force base in Tucson and the Army fort in Sierra Vista. One night, her way back on I-10, from taking her boyfriend back to Ft. Huachuca she lost control of her car, the car flipped, rolled and crashed. His sisters and his mother survived but he was thrown from the car and killed instantly. It was 1970.
In 1983 my husband, my two children and I moved into a space in a mobile home park situated next to a cemetery. I have to admit to a fascination with cemeteries inherited from my mother’s side of the family. We always were visiting old graveyards on road trips. So after we moved there I used to wander through the one near my house looking at the names and dates. It was an older cemetery with green grass and huge trees and dozens of beautiful statues. I remember when I discovered the part of the cemetery designated for the children. It had a peaceful, comforting feeling and a beautiful statue of a child angel was centered in the middle of the resting places of the children. Most of the graves had flowers and tokens laid on them. I used to take a few flowers from some of the arrangements and put them on the graves that had none. That was how I found Michael. His grave rarely had flowers. I began to go see him as often as I could. I also started taking my own flowers to him.
We had gotten this cat, a beautiful silver/grey cat with brilliant green eyes that we named Betsy. She and I never liked each other. I couldn’t figure it out. Betsy and I tormented each other regularly. I don’t know why but we just didn’t get along. One night after going to bed my husband and I heard a low growling sound like a cat squaring off with another cat. Betsy was in the living room at her usual post on the back of a chair. Her cries got louder and then I heard the footsteps. The steps were walking toward our bedroom door. It was a mobile home so footsteps were easily heard. The steps came to our door and stopped, then they walked back down the hall toward the other end of the house. Then I heard the cat again. This began a pattern that went on for weeks. Betsy was even weirder to everyone than before. She tended to sit, looking suspiciously at everything. She never wanted to be around people as it was, but now she was even more reserved.
I talked to my husband about it and he had no explanation for the sounds and the way the cat was behaving. He always did a better job of handling her than I ever did and he was a die-hard sceptic.
Then things got more interesting. Everyone was in bed when the footsteps started. We lay there listening to them and they came to a stop outside our bedroom door. Chuck got up and opened the bedroom door expecting to see one of our kids, maybe sleepwalking, but no one was there. I could tell he was bothered. We lay back down trying to fall asleep when there was a loud bang in the bathroom. It sounded like someone big had fallen in the tub. We sat bolt upright and he got up again and rushed to the bathroom. Nothing. It was dark and empty with no sign of anything that could have fallen into the tub. He came back, got into bed and we lay there thinking.
“What do you think a ghost is?” he asked quietly.
The banging in the bathroom continued along with the cat growl and the footsteps. We quit reacting to it and I didn’t find out until much later that my daughter, who was ten at the time had heard the sounds as well. She would cover her head and talk and pray herself to sleep. She never said a word to us at the time. I had told some members of my family and a few friends about the sounds but they laughed it off. We had trouble laughing off the experiences we were having so we quit talking about it.
That is until my middle sister suggested it might be Michael. She also remembered him and his story and had been his babysitter occasionally and had gone with me to see his grave. We were sitting on my back porch talking, listening to music and drinking. We both heard a loud thump and a bang on the washer which was just inside the back door.
“There your go, now you’ve heard it for yourself.” I said.
Her eyes were wide, her mouth open and she just sat there. I got up and went inside to check, as usual there was no sign of anything out of place. It was at this point she told me that on one of her visits to Michael’s grave by herself she thought she saw something around the top of the child angel statue in the cemetery. She said she saw an angel fly up the statue and away into the sky. As we talked about it my heart warmed to the idea that perhaps sweet little Michael was reaching out to me. Maybe he needed my comfort.
I told my husband about what my sister said and how I felt about it and he warned me to leave that stuff alone. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about Michael. I made my first mistake by calling out to Michael to tell him he was loved and remembered. One night after that I had fallen asleep and I’m not really sure how late it was but I felt my covers being pulled. I am not a heavy sleeper and it woke me. Sometimes when my husband rolls over it will pull the covers so I yanked them back and tried to go back to sleep. My eyes flew open as I heard the sound of laughter. It was a child’s giggling laugh, then the covers started to be tugged down. I wanted to explore this so I didn’t wake my husband. This began the fun play each night. The problem was I needed my sleep. I had two kids to get to school and myself to work. One night when I was awakened from a deep sleep by the play I called out to him.
“Michael stop, I need to sleep. Please.” I heard one more giggle and then it stopped.
Chuck and I had a timeshare vacation planned for Puerto Vallarta for a week, and my kids would be staying with my parents who lived in the same trailer park. Because we had Betsy I asked my dad to stop by the house to check on her and the house. We had been broken into a few months before so I felt safer if someone was around regularly as a deterrent. Little did I know my dad’s world would be rocked by his experiences. When we returned home everything looked fine a first glance. Then I noticed there was tape over the knob on the stereo and the cable box connector was disconnected and on the floor and every door in the house was closed. I looked through the house to see if there was anything else out of order. We called dad to thank him for his help and he said he never wanted to do it again. I asked him to come over and tell us what happened. He insisted we come to their house, so we did.
Dad said that the first night he came by he walked around the outside of the house and it was fine. He came inside and walked through the house. When he opened the bathroom door he found that the toilet paper roll had been completely emptied on the floor. However Betsy wasn’t inside there. The door had been closed firmly. He cleaned it up, replaced the roll and then left. The next night he had to do the same thing. Betsy was sitting on the chair, so he went to the bathroom to find the door closed again. He opened it and flipped on the light to find the toilet paper roll was again emptied. Then the bathroom light went off. He turned it on, picked up the paper and didn’t put on another roll. He left feeling very strange. He didn’t go back the next night.
The night after was one that gave him his first real scare. As he approached the house he could see that there were lights on in the house. He came close to the door and stopped. Before he opened the door he said a prayer. When he opened the door every light in the house was on. He hurried through the house turning off lights and opening closed doors and after putting food in Betsy’s bowl he left never looking back. The final night he came over the lights were on again and the doors were closed. To his horror the TV was on and so was the stereo. He once again went through the house quickly opening doors and turning out lights and turning the TV and stereo off. Just as he closed the door the stereo and TV came back on. He was scared and a bit pissed so he got electrical tape to cover the power knob on the stereo and disconnected the cable box to the TV. After that he never ever came over if we were gone.
One Christmas I invited a dear friend to spend the night of Christmas Eve and spend Christmas day with us. After we were all in bed the nightly activity started. My friend was staying on the foldout couch snuggled down for the evening. I heard Betsy start her growl and then I hear my friend hush her. Then the footsteps started. I asked Chuck if he thought I should check on her but he said to wait a little while. I was asleep by the time it all stopped. The next morning I got up to start coffee and get breakfast ready. I found her sitting up, her knees pulled to her chin and looking as if she hadn’t slept. I asked her if she was ok and she said she wasn’t going to stay again that night as planned. When I asked her what happened she said that when Betsy started to growl the room became ice cold. She snuggled down trying to get warm and when she heard the footsteps she covered her head, drew up into a ball and tried to sleep. She felt someone sit on the end of the bed but she was so frightened she couldn’t look.
“What is wrong with your house?”
It was then that my children started telling us their experiences with child’s giggling, cold air, footsteps and Betsy’s cries. Chuck told me if it was Michael (remember he was skeptical) I should tell Michael he needs to go be with God. That God wants all children with him. I should tell him we would never forget him but that his place was with God and the angels. I did what Chuck suggested.
We heard no more laughing and other activities seemed to slow down. I hoped Michael had found peace and comfort. We went without anything happening for several weeks until a very unsettling thing happen one night. I was sleeping when I woke to the feeling of my covers being lifted off my feet. They weren’t being pulled like before but lifted. I kicked out and it stopped. This began a nightly occurrence and then one night I felt a hand grab my ankle! I kicked and cried out. This woke Chuck and stopped the contact. I began to pray every night about it. I didn’t think it was Michael anymore but my openness to contact with Michael had made me a point of contact, a spirit conduit, if you will. Whenever it would happen I would say no and kick out and it would stop. I thought I could get it under control.
My first aggressive attack happened when Chuck was working an evening shift for a guy. Everyone was in bed and I had fallen asleep. It was probably around 11pm. You know that feeling when someone gets in bed but you are asleep and yet you can still sense it? This is what happened. I was dreaming he was home and getting into bed. After a few minutes I rolled onto my back and it was then I felt pressure on me. It was as if someone was pressing me into the mattress. Pressure on my shoulders and neck. I started to fight it. My eyes were open but I saw nothing. I just felt the heaviness. It was as if a 300lb offensive lineman was astride me and trying to stuff me into the mattress. As I fought it I started to call out to God and Jesus-I needed help or I would die. A sound like a low breathy moan filled the room, then the pressure lifted. I caught the glimpse of a dark shape fly out of the room through the ceiling.
One of the last attacks happened when Chuck was there. It began as the others had and my cries and fighting against the pressure woke him. He could see me pushing against something invisible that was so strong I could only lift my head an inch off the bed. He saw tears in my eyes and he sat up and yelled “Stop it! Go away!” It was gone that instant. He held me as I finally calmed and fell asleep.
I decided we needed to bless the house. I went to a Christian bookstore and found a pamphlet with a prayer used to do battle with evil and bless the home. I also found a bottle of holy oil to use over all the doors and windows. After coming home and telling Chuck and the kids what we were going to do we spent an hour going to every inner and outer doorway and all the windows praying the blessing for the house and all living in it, calling the warrior angels from heaven to cover the house with protection. After this was done I stood outside and said goodbye to Michael and anyone else cast out and asking them to leave this place of the living and go to the place waiting for them.
I did have a couple of experiences where I would wake on occasion to see a dark shape over me but I was never touched or heard anything. After continuing to pray to cast out whatever was lingering and to prevent anything from coming inside these, what ever they were, left and have never returned.
31 Oct 2021
This day is hard. My dad and I had a close, wonderful relationship.
I tell people, when I get to heaven all I want is to climb up in God’s lap and rest my head on His shoulder, the same way I used to do with my dad.
Today would have been dad’s 96th birthday. He passed away in 2002 after suffering the first of several strokes that took out his right side, on mother’s day of 1998, at my house. After surgery to remove the blockage he could no longer walk or speak.
It makes me sad that the youngest members of our family do not know him, or in the case of those who were born after the stroke and before he passed away, they have no memories of him.
Dad used to volunteer with the University of Arizona football team during the time of Coach Smith and Coach Tomey. Dad had a great time being part of the team and was interviewed a couple of times by the local TV stations. I have a VHS tape with those interviews so I can hear his voice. I cry every time, but I treasure those few minutes of memories. I got choked up writing those last two sentences.
Dad was a handsome, gregarious man. He was full of laughter and loved riding motorcycles, the Dallas Cowboys, and adored my mother. He survived a difficult childhood that could have made him bitter but he had us, we were his, and he made sure
we knew how important we were to him.
So here’s a toast to my dad, Jack Turner.
I have spent the day gorging on science. I am thrilled. I even had two questions answered!!
I’m participating in the Mars Society Conference “Taking Flight” and it feels awesome to hang out with science people. I dig science, especially in relation to space and earth science. To hear from these people who describe what their plans are for Mars just blows my mind.
I’m pretty much self taught so that can give you a good idea of my knowledge base. I am no degreed individual however, I’ve learned enough I can follow much of the details of speaker’s presentations.
It thrills me.
Due to my years of laboratory experience, I understand certain processes about which I would normally be clueless, but this has provided an understanding edge in scientific terms and definitions. I am currently reading “Black Hole Blues” by Janna Levin about the discovery of gravitational waves.
Like I said geeking here!
I subscribe to several science oriented YouTube channels that give me fascinating problems and solutions in astronomy and astrophysics, geology, meteorology. I can’t resist the information.
It’s beginning to cool off, just a bit here in southern Arizona. Nights are in the 60’s, last night it was the high 50’s. I am refreshed and excited for the cool temps. Although I would prefer it to be truly fall, this preview is giving me all the feels. Soon long sleeves won’t be relegated to storage in a closet.
I love my cold weather gear. Living for a while in Tioga, ND was stellar for this cold weather lover. I adore coats and jackets, boots and scarves, pulling on a knit cap and gloves for a
walk outside, and having bonfires.
I love that my grandson and nieces and nephews know when they come to my house we will have a fire!
This was part of my motivation to find property out here. We are rather rural (though the city is creeping closer,) Catalina is 12 miles
north of Tucson, behind the Santa Catalina Mountains.
We are also 1000 feet higher than Tucson which provides slightly cooler temps (still get 100 in the summer) and
often have snow every winter.
We’ve have snow stick to the ground for several days which gives me massive joy. My friend called one morning to ask if the snow was still on the ground and when I confirmed it was she came out with her daughter to play. You can tell by the pic the snow was still falling. It was fabulous.
So this winter weather fan is happy the temps are cooler and the days are shorter.
So my friends what is your favorite season?