A Really Good Day

So yesterday was a big day. I started the morning with a drop of gas. I got to the gas station, where Becki was suppose to put $5 in just so I could get her to and from the train station, only her ATM card wouldn't work at that pump. I dropped her off, and then drove to work to get my check. I figured I'd walk to the currency exchange rather than drive. I had that little gas that I honestly didn't think I'd make it to the closest gas station if I didn't walk.
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Anyway, I'm walking down the street when this woman sees me. I wasn't sure if I should run, figuring she'd probably ask for a hand out. But then half way across she yells at me, "Do you belong to the United Way? We contribute to the United Way at work and I wanted to be sure you guys would get it." No, I told her we didn't. I was relieved anyway. I didn't have money for me let alone her. Then she starts telling me she saw me on cable access addressing City Council. She read my work and she knew of my connection with our Angel Group, but until she saw me, she didn't know what I looked like. She hugged me and told me that we helped her years ago when the IRS put a lien on her paycheck. She and her 6 kids were surviving on next to nothing. She didn't know how she would have made it without our help. She said she wanted to do something and thought she might be able to collect canned food at work. I'd never turn that down. She made my day. Right after I talked to her, I called my friend, George. I wanted to make her day, too.
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Needless to say, we are up and running for the year, and it is going to be a good year. One of the Smith brothers called Ed to ask if we could use a food drive for Thanksgiving. His mother is a minister. She was asked by a cemetery administrator if she knew of anyone who could use it, and she thought of us. No, we don't do much at Thanksgiving, but, yes, Christmas is coming, and I really need all the food I can get my hands on. So they called me. There's this group of 3 cemeteries located on the same intersection, and owned by a much larger corporation. All three will be holding food drives for us. George told me, too, that a bank is going to hold a hygiene and beauty aids drive. It's been quite busy and things are coming together well.
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So last night was the big night when the Library, in conjunction with the Historical Society and the paper, previewed the film we made back in September about 3 haunted homes in our town. And you know who owns the 3rd house. It was cool and a lot of fun besides. They showed about six minutes from each interview, and then asked the homeowner to talk about the house and answer questions. It was packed. The first lady, Janet, told about how she knows her mother and her ex husband are around, and how she's seen some people she didn't know in her home. She said she wasn't afraid at all, that if anything, her home has a homey feel to it. At the second house, the homeowner described waking up in the middle of the night and finding people walking through her bedroom and out through a wall. As things progress, she'd find these characters face to face with her. Our sensitives weren't comfortable with that. They felt that a portal had been opened up somehow, and that some of these characters were evil. And we talked about our place. On film, they showed Becki, Jen and I talking about taking photos, and how Becki would point at something and say, "Mom, quick, take a picture." And sure enough, there's this big orb in it. As I talked about this on film, they showed the photos. There were a lot of oo's and aw's. I was surprised how they showed the one of the baseball guy coming out of the bush, but not that one of the smoke that I put on the sidebar. Later we talked about the people running and walking down the street. We talked about shadow people, and fairies.
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I loved the story the ghost hunter told about fairies. She said she visited a farm in Indiana. The owner said that there was a lot of activity in her barn and on the hill next to it. The ghost hunter brought a sensitive with her. The lady investigated, and came back with her assessment. There were fairies living there, and fairies are good luck, so she better feed them to keep them around. "So, what do you feed fairies?" Good question. Neither the lady, the sensitive nor the ghost hunter had any ideas as there aren't many fairies in North America. The sensitive told the lady to experiment. Leave different types of food out. So she did. She left chicken and beef, and toast, veggies and other things. She found that when the fairies liked something, that the food would disappear in the time it took to turn around. And it seems they like brownies, Cheetos, coffee and blended whiskeys best. The ghost hunter said that she has photos taken during another visit of people visiting the barn where the fairies were suppose to be. They would hold out both hands, each having something the fairies liked, and in the photos are these huge orbs landing on each hand. The food would just disappear.
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Now I wonder if that lady would be interested in a trade. Say one hooded figure for a fairy? Well maybe not. Hopefully our hooded figures floated off somewhere else where people and dogs aren't going to be haunted by their presence.
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The night ended with the ghost hunter selling and signing her latest book. I had read one of her earlier books about Chicago Cemeteries, which she wrote with her husband. I told her I would purchase this on payday. "No, let me give you one." So she signed a book and handed it to me. I can't wait to read it.
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So, if you're interested in this subject, her book is called Chicago Haunts 3, and her name is Ursula Bielski. She's also wrote Chicago Haunts 1 and 2, and Chicago Cemeteries.
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My only disappointment was to see myself on film. I'm very conscious of my weight, and I was concerned about it as we went into this project. I thought for sure I'd come across as this huge lump of blubber. Instead, I swear I came across as all boob. I knew I had a big rack. I didn't realize they took over everything.

Not Condiments - In other words, it's catch up time again.

I wish I had photos. This has got to be the most vibrant falls I've ever seen. The leaves are falling quickly now, and should be down before the weekend is over. I'm sad to see them go as this has been an early fall. I've enjoyed them as much as I could.
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It's been very wet besides. Retention ponds all over the South Suburbs are near overflowing. I dropped Ed off at the main UCLA (The University Closest to Lagrange Avenue) campus last week. The pond there was creeping very close to the road. This part of Illinois is swamp land. The name Chicago is a bastardization of the Algonquin word meaning stinky place, as wild onions were suppose to grow in the swamps where Lake Michigan and the Chicago River met. As engineers historically have tried to move or remove wetlands, they found out water has a will of its own. Rather than trying to dry them up, engineers and architects are now installing retention ponds and water features in order to prevent flooding.
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Jon bought a brand spanking new, okay not so new, Mustang. This is his dream car. Ever since he got his license, he's been talking Mustang. Which is fine and dandy. I'm happy he has a nice car, but...... He doesn't own a car anymore. The car owns him.
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He and Gloria broke up. In spite of the new car, in spite of a decent job, in spite of all those good things in life, he was devastated. I'm only happy because he can spend more time here.
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So my nephew, Christian, got married this weekend. He is Bill's brother, R's, son. We were all suppose to go, but we were counting on going in Jon's Pontiac Sun Fire. I don't want to complain, or seem ungrateful, but that Mustang kind of sucked enough cash out of the air that we backed out. We truly don't need to be sponging off of Jon for everything. So the other two sponged off him instead. Jon had asked Gloria to be his date weeks before they broke up, so she went. Becki brought Chris, and Ed joined them.
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I've talked about rivalries before. In baseball, it's the Northside against the Southside. We get very hot on that subject. Now football is worse. It's the Bears against the Packers. Seeing that the wedding took place in Wisconsin, and the bride's family are Packer fans, and groom's family are Bears' fans, they did something with the cake decorations; half for Bears and half for Packers. When they cut and served it, Bear fans got the Packers' side, and Packer pans got the Bears' side. And Becki said something about small rocks. Apparently someone collected them and cleaned them. When wedding guests arrived, each person received one. He or she was suppose to squeeze their wish for the new couple into it, and then pass it onto the new couple after the ceremony.
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I understand that there was a lot of carousing this weekend, and almost no one was exempt. Something about Ed ending up at a pizza parlor because he erased his pass card by placing it next to his cell phone. He couldn't get into his room. I also heard stories about the nieces and nephews which I won't repeat. But everyone had an extremely good time. Becki enjoyed the idea that brother-in-law N twisted his butt off. And as far as that goes, neither he, nor C., or R. were too sober. And the bride's family were in the same condition. "You wouldn't believe it, Mom," Becki told me. "Her family is as crazy as our is." Now figure everyone else went out after the wedding. Becki had the sense to go to bed. Leave it to her.
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I'm sorry we missed it, although I wish the best for Christian and his new wife.

Father Came to Lunch Yesterday

I am very happy to report that Father Paul blessed my yard, my garage, and my sun porch yesterday. He sprinkled holy water and prayed, and then told the entity or whatever, to leave. Then I made lunch. We had a wonderful conversation. We told ghost stories, yes, that sounds silly considering the situation, but Father is as bad on the subject as I am. We even talked cemeteries.
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To my surprise, Bill and Father had never met before. Bill is not Catholic. As I've said a zillion times here, we have a mixed marriage. (He's a Cubs fan and a Republican, too.) Although when it comes to religion, we don't disagree. He was never raised in a church, so when the subject of raising our kids Catholic arose, he was all for it. I think that even if he doesn't practise any religion, he misses it.
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Anyway, Becki says the thing is not gone. Sheeba is returning to her old self though. She spent most of the day playing in the yard. In the last few months, she just refused to go anywhere near it. If I let her out of the van and I had parked on the street, she insisted on exiting on the driver's side, and then crossing over to Lawrence's side to wait until I got the door open. If I backed into the driveway, she insisted that I open the passenger side door for her so she didn't exit next to the yard. If I took her for a walk, I'd have to pull her down the sidewalk to get to the alley just because she had to pass the yard. She'd pull in the other direction. Now suddenly she is running down the sideyard looking for someplace to pee, and she is staying on this side of the street even if she had to walk by the yard. Becki had her in the yard this evening, but still insists that nothing has changed even if the dog is behaving.
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Heard a good story the other day. My great nephew, Jay, had a conversation with my SIL, D, who is his grandmother and his Dad. Now Jay is 4, and too smart for his own good. Jay said,"Tim is a warewolf, Grandma. He got bit by a wolf and has to be tied up at night before the moon comes out. Cuz otherwise he turns into a warewolf and goes wandering around. He told me this. He says it's true. I have to stay away from him at night because he'll try to bite me when he's a warewolf, and I'll turn into a warewolf."
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Jay's Dad, Rich, asked him. "Jay are you making this up?"
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"No," Jay said. "If I was making this up, I would have started this with 'Once upon a time.'"

Good News

Father called me yesterday. I didn't give him enough faith or credit. He hasn't been ignoring me, although I wouldn't blame him. Like I said I must have looked like a whack job when I rushed him demanding his help. He's simply overwhelmed. He'll be here on Tuesday. Thank God.

Wednesday Evening Catch Up, and I Don't Mean Condiments!

As I said in the last post, we had a very big weekend. Friday, after the filming, I attended my 40th grammar school reunion. Damn those people got old. Only kidding. It was a wonderful affair.
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There were 54 kids in my class. After graduating in 1969, I went on to our local high school. My parents had split up at the time, and we were trying to sell our house. We finally moved in December to the town I live in now. I transferred into the same high school where Bill graduated from, and eventually our children. Where I have wonderful memories of my grammar school class, I figured I had lost our connectivity because of the move. I learned the night of the reunion that only about half of the kids I graduated grammar school with went on to graduate from the same high school I first attended. A lot transferred to religous high schools, or moved away as I had. Once we had our reunion, I learned that about half the class had left the State. People came in from Texas, California, Massechusetts, Iowa, etc. Out of 54, about thirty had made it. I also learned that we lost four. One died in a motorcycle accident shortly after high school graduation. Another died of a suspected drug overdose. Yet another had a genetic disease and the last suffered a brain annurism. That was very hard to hear.
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Anyway, we hired a trolley to take us through the old neighborhood, and to pass the homes we lived in in 1969. We stopped at our grammar school and even took a tour. The new principal explained the changes. Where we stopped in what used to be the 7th and 8th grade classrooms, she explained that now the primary grades use the first floor. When we graduated, we moved up to the third floor. It was then what we called 'the branch.' Part of the freshman class then took classes there before moving to the main campus. Now it is 7th and 8th grade. We enjoyed the changes. Mainly the track desks were replaced with modern desks, although the wood floor, complete with nail holes from the tracks, were still bright and shiny. There were WPA murals in the auditoriums. I barely remember them, although knowing they were WPA, I had to take time to examine them. The Principal said that they were just cleaned and restored. They depicted 4 scenes from Illinois history.
adn
Once we had our fill, we checked out the playground. When we were young, it was black top. Now it is a garden complete with walking path. There is new playground equipment in the back. We wondered aloud about how we played on that blacktop without fracturing our skulls. We each suffered from scraped knees and elbows, but no worse than that.
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We got back on the trolley. Our next stop was the restaurant where we held our graduation dinner. No one could remember what room it was held in, and in fact a lot of us couldn't remember the dinner. I was surprised to be in the half that forgot. It occurred to me later that one of my most precious memories of the wickiest teacher God ever created happened there. This teacher was absolutely hateful. Still, she was possibly the best teacher I ever had. She taught me more about writing than any teacher I ever had. It wasn't until our graduation dinner that I had a moment to talk to her one on one. She was enormously proud of us that night. It surprised me then how much she cared.
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We finally made our way to a country club just inside the Chicago city limits, only blocks from our old school. We took time then to catch up. It was almost funny to see each of us running up to one another, saying, 'How are you? What do you do for a living and how many kids do you have?' We were going to learn as much as we could about each other in the first few minutes. What I enjoyed a lot was that a lot of those who were closest in school sought each other out and stuck together throughout the night. I truly enjoyed myself.
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Saturday night I was invited to an old time sleep over, like what we used to have in 7th and 8th grade. I passed on it because it was Bill's birthday. We threw him a surprise party at a local bar-b-que restaurant. The food was great and he enjoyed himself. He said it was possibly the best birthday he ever had. I'm glad. He deserved as much. Jon paid for it and Becki organized it. I was suppose to do the invites and make the reservation. I couldn't. Bill has control of the phone. Please understand that he isn't a controlling person, just lonely since leaving work. If I were to take the phone in the other room to make calls, he'd be right there, checking on who I was calling and adding his own two cents to our conversation. Needless to say, he'd make it difficult. I'm just glad he enjoyed himself.
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As I said in my last post, I contacted a priest about clearing our yard. He promised to call me Monday. I finally called him. He made an excuse and had his secretary say he'd call back. He never did. I want to be angry with him except for two things. First off, I asked him to do something that is both frightening and odd. I must have sounded like a whack job on Saturday when I charged the Confessional, demanding that he help me. Secondly I don't want to feed my anger into the thing in the yard. If Father has decided that he doesn't want to do this, I will have to accept it. I was told by the 'sensitive' to bless the yard myself. Once I can get some holy water, I will. In the mean time, Sheeba has decided that she is no longer comfortable going back there again.
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I had to work last night. It was an unusual night which I truly enjoyed. You see I have this friend. She's fiesty to say the least. She invited everyone in town to attend a block party on Saturday, which most of us did. I dropped in in spite of all I had to do that day. Her aldermen didn't bother. Last night she got up in front of City Council and demanded their resignations because they didn't represent the people. They never walk her part of the neighborhood except when looking for votes. Why weren't they there? Both alderman took offense. One was out of town that weekend and had told her that he would be. The other claimed he donated money for the party and that she should be thankful for that. My friend got angry and said she would like to talk to him outside. After five minutes of 'bring it, bring it,' from either side, my friend declared, 'don't you dare threaten me! I'm a brown belt in karate! You'll see what happens if you take me outside!'

I Told You So!

Before I start this, I should point out that Sheeba has decided that she wants nothing to do with the yard. We have to beg her to go out anymore, and literally push her out the door. More often than not, someone will walk her when she has to relieve herself, rather than fight with her. I thought for sure I had spoiled her rotten. Becki though told me how she and Chris pulled up one day and Sheeba was sitting in a lawn chair, and refused to move. Becki said she was terrified, and it wasn't until Becki went in the yard for her, that she came out.
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So as Paul Harvey would say, "And now for the rest of the story."
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We had a big weekend. I posted that other photo because I couldn't figure out how to email it to someone, and I couldn't find it in Kodak. Which relates to what I did on Friday morning.
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Our library and City, working in conjunction with each other (It's a joke if you are familiar with our town), are putting together a Halloween program with one of Chicago's big ghost hunters.
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A few weeks back the paper advertised for volunteers who live in haunted homes to allow a camera crew to film there. Well I volunteered to let them sit outside my home and talk. Most of my ghost stories have to do with what happens outside my home. Along with the ghost hunter, we had two 'sensitives'. I guess that's the new word for 'medium.'
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On the subject of mediums, let me say this. Becki has told me a lot over the years, all of which I've taken with a grain of salt. This stuff is hard to believe, especially when it's your little girl who is blowing your mind away. I love to tell a good ghost story, and I include a lot of what Becki tells me, but it's hard not to be skeptic.
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Anyway, we went to two other houses before coming to ours. At the first, the lady told of how her husband played the piano shortly after his death so her daughter would know he was okay. She told of seeing people on the stairwell, and movement in other places. The sensitives explained what they saw, which pretty well matched up with what the lady saw.
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Anyway, we moved on to the second house. This one was on the same street I live on, but a block down. Jen joined me just as we pulled up at the other house. She wanted to tell her stories, but her mother didn't want to let a camera crew in. So Jen walked Superbaby over in his stroller. As we're coming up to the house, she tells me, "Mom, this street isn't right." I kind of blew her off, thinking she's playing games with me. A few minutes later we came across one of the sensitives. She was leaning against a tree. She starts telling us that when she got out of the car, her feet began to come out from under her. She says, "You see there's no birds or squirrels on this street? There's something wrong with this whole block." I almost lost it. First because of what Jen said, and then because my stories have more to do with what happens outside than what happens inside. (There's enough going on inside my house that I would have called anyway. Outside is worse.) I never quite got the story about what's happening inside the second house before we moved on. I had a lot to concentrate on.
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Anyway, we start moving down the street towards our house when Becki and Chris caught up. Becki said she ran to the train from school because she was afraid of missing the interview. Chris picked her up from the train station and hurried her home. I introduced the newcomers around as we moved.
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Anyway, on to our house. Sensitive # 1 asked if she could see the dog. Well, Sheeba is in the house, barking her fool head off. I went in and put her leach on her and brought her out. The Sensitive #1 took her for a walk. Now at the other two houses Sensitive #2 wandered around, in and out of the houses and around the property, as did Sensitive #1, although #1 spent time with any dogs living in the homes. The pair operated separately, and away from the home owner and others. I mean they didn't just disappear, but as we're talking in the living room, or on the porch, we could see either of these ladies, wandering the yard, or taking the stairs inside. At my house, Sensitive #2 steps out of the car and a few steps away from it. Then she turns around and got back in the car. Okay, she must be tired.
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So we sit down in chair in front of house. As the camera man is setting up for this interview, J.J. walks out of the bushes and rubbed against his leg. Now just imagine. After all of these ghost stories, these sensitives (two very nice ladies, by the way) telling us what they feel and see, and suddenly this guy is greeted by a black cat. He freaked! Sorry it happened, but it was funny.
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We sat down for the interview. I don't remember who decided that Jen and Becki should participate, but I'm glad they did. We told our stories, each one adding our own prospective. About the lady in the hallway, about Fred in the car and the guy peeking in our window at night. Even about Elbows, and the shadow that walks between Lawrence and Mel's sidewalk. And how many times Becki has done it to me where we're walking or driving, and she tells me, "Quick, Mom, take a picture." Sure enough, there's a huge orb somewhere. As I said, I never want to believe her, but just as I think she can't prove it to me again, she does. Anyway, she's telling about her the photos she took, like the one below, or the one on the right side panel of this blog. Someone asks her what she sees and how often. She tells him, once or twice a week she comes across something unusual. Then she says, "There's something wrong with the yard. I hate it. And the garage is worse. The dog hates it, too."
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We finish up with another story, when the director waves Sensitive #1 forward. She's still has my dog in tow. Now my dog is kind of calm. Kind of. Of all the years I've had her, she's never calm around new people. Anyway, Sensitive #1 tells the narrator that the dog hates the yard, and worse yet the garage. That I need to comfort the dog and let her know that it will be all right. And it will, too. Then she tells me that I need to lay salt around the perimeter of the yard and to bless the yard with holy water. Asked why, she said, "I see hooded figures in the yard."
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HUH?
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The narrator asked her, "You mean KKK or something else?"
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She said, "Oh, definitely ceremonial. The yard is bad. The garage is worse."
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I'm having difficulty catching my breath, and my daughter is standing there with her arms crossed. "I told you so." I don't know which is worse knowing. That my yard is haunted with something evil, or that my daughter has been watching this for the past 18 years. Damn! My poor heart!
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So, yard is salted, priest is coming, dog is regularly doing her business in the yard and not afraid to be there. But daughter is still saying, "I told you so!"