Enjoy The Little Things

Tomorrow is the first day of November, and in keeping with my November tradition, I am going to dedicate this coming month to gratitude.  In years past, I have posted something every day during November. Realistically, I will not be able to post every day this year.  Life is just getting too busy, and I'm not about to stress out about a blog. The previous years' daily posts helped to keep me continually thinking about my blessings. I didn't want to lose that effect this year, so I decided to give myself a 30 day attitude challenge in place of the daily posts.  I am going to try not to complain for the entire month of November.  Now, this is not to say that I won't address things that need to be discussed, especially big life issues, or work related squabbles.  But I'm going to avoid complaining about things that don't really matter.  I won't bemoan the housework or whine about how busy I am.  I won't make unnecessary comments about people who annoy me.  Instead, when I feel those petty complaints brewing inside of me, I will take a moment to reflect on my blessings and reconsider my words and thoughts.  I'm betting this is going to be very difficult at first, but very rewarding in the end.  I encourage you to give yourselves an attitude challenge too - whatever it may be!

So, that's my plan - stop complaining and start thanking!  Time to get started!

I have this quote by Robert Brault on the top of my blog: "Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you will look back and realize they were the big things."  It's so true, but not always easy to keep in perspective. Yes, the big things - weddings, births, graduations, new homes - those things are absolutely worthy of appreciation, but really, it's the little things that make our days worthwhile.  I don't know about you, but when I don't have the little things, or when a bunch of little things go wrong, I tend to gripe.  Someone once told me that the best way to break a bad habit is to replace it with a good one.  While I don't complain as much as a lot of people, and I think I am pretty aware of my blessings, I'll be the first to admit that I grumble too much.  For the next four weeks, instead of whining when something goes wrong, I will thank God for giving me the opportunity to reflect on what is important to me.  They say happiness is a choice, and for the most part I believe that is true.  Gratitude is absolutely a choice.  No matter how bleak our life circumstances may seem, there is always something, no matter how small, to be grateful for.  Here are a few of the little things I am grateful for.  Feel free to add your own.  It's always good to hear good things!

• Lists.  I once read a little blurb that said, "You know you have a type A personality if you get more enjoyment from crossing items off of your to-do list than you do from sex."  Well, I'm not sure that's the case for me, but there's not much in my life that brings me more satisfaction than making lists and crossing off to-do items!  Sometimes I even write stuff down that I already did and then cross them off, just so I can see all the things I've accomplished!  It's a little sick, I know. But hey, what can I say?  Lists make me happy! 
• I love when the cat plops down between my feet and purrs for no apparent reason.  He does it all the time - I'll be cooking, or preparing lunches, getting myself ready for work, or doing laundry, and all of a sudden I feel a soft fuzzy vibration at my feet.  He positions himself so that his stomach is between my feet, stretches out his front and back paws as far as he can, closes his eyes and purrs. He's simply happy to be with me (and Greg - he does it to him too).  What a sweet thing, to be loved so purely by another one of God's creatures.  So sweet...
• Modern amenities - the crock pot, the dish washer, the washer and dryer, indoor plumbing even! Does that sound goofy?  Really, I'm not making it up.  I actually think often about the luxuries that modern invention has given us. (And, no, this wasn't brought on by the hurricane Sandy.  I actually started this blog list long before Sandy came into existence! But really, in light of Sandy, I think we can all be grateful for what we have.)  In the winter, I think about how lucky we are to have heat that we don't have to work for (lighting and maintaining a fire, for example).  When I use the bathroom, I often think about what it was like to have to traipse all the way to an outhouse, especially in the cold winter months, or when a person was ill.  How nice to sit on my clean, warm, creature-free, toilet!  Or can you imagine lugging all of your laundry down to the river with a scrub board, and then lugging all that wet laundry back to the house to hang it up?  What about in the winter when they couldn't hang clothes on the line?  I like my stuff clean, and that would just be a nightmare for me!  I'm even grateful for smaller things, like a dishwasher.  Yes, I can do the dishes by hand, but it's such a time-saver to throw them into a machine that does it for me.  Thank you, ingenuity and technology for making my life easier every single day! 
• Yankee candles.  I don't care what you say, there's no candle better than a Yankee candle.  If you want to get me a gift, buy me a candle - a YANKEE candle.  I don't like food scented candles, but I love the clean scents like Clean Cotton, Fluffy Towels, and Soft Blanket.  I also love the spicy smells of Autumn Leaves and the whole line of Christmas scents like evergreen and bayberry. There's one I think smells like frankincense, but I can't remember the name right now. It reminds me of midnight mass.  It's comfort in a jar! 
• I love a long hot bath with a good book on a cold night.  Add in a glass of wine, and I'm in heaven! 
• Naps.  To say I am an avid napper is an understatement.  I lay in bed at night wide awake for hours, but if I have the chance to lay down in the afternoon, I will be in a coma-like sleep within minutes.  I'm grateful for every chance that I get to take a nap, and I am so grateful that Andrew, at 4 1/2, still naps too.  It's a God-send.  You can bet your bottom dollar that I will be sleeping at 130 this afternoon. (Don't call or text me until after 3!)  It just doesn't get any better than curling up under a ton of warm blankets on a cold and rainy afternoon and drifting off into dreamland for an hour or so.  
• Blogging.  While I'm certainly no John Steinbeck, have always been a better writer than a speaker. In person I can be terribly inarticulate and slow witted.  If you and I get into an argument, you will hear something like this: "Oh yeah, well...so what!"  And then two hours later, when I am frantically scrubbing the bathroom floor, I'll think of a superb comeback...too little, too late.  But when I write, I can get a rough outline down and then come back to it after an hour, a day, a week or more until I have it where I want it.  I don't always take a long time re-reading and proofing blog entries, but sometimes I do.  The blog is really rather informal, so I don't feel pressure to perform. Still, I wouldn't mind that much if I did have pressure to perform in writing, because if given the time, I know I can do it, and I can do it well (as long as you don't mind a few run-on sentences and slight grammatical errors, that is).  In person, I am also as emotionally awkward as I am inarticulate.  When conversations get too deep, too sentimental or too emotionally charged, I get very uncomfortable.   I either say nothing at all, or start cracking stupid jokes to break the tension.  While I don't appear to hold up well in person, I do think about those things - especially the sentimental stuff.  Blogging gives me a means of expression that I can't always reveal face to face.  Writing has always been an outlet for me.  This blog is has been one of the most therapeutic things I have done for myself in my adult life.  It's a routine channel for me to use to unload whatever (or most of whatever) is bothering me.  It's where I share my happiness, and where I shout to the world how much I love those around me, and how blessed I truly feel about my life, my friends and my family.  I love writing, and even if no one was reading, I would continue to write.  

So there you have it.  The first of the month's gratitude entries.  Stay tuned for more, and let me know if you decide to take a 30 day challenge too ~ or send me a list of your own little things!  Happy November!  Stay merry, and be grateful! 

The Medium Experience

I went to see Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium, in Pittsburgh on Saturday.  I know this is going to come as a huge shock to everyone, but I've actually been doubting the validity of mediums over the last few weeks.  I've been praying much more than I have in a very long time, and for the first time in my life, I am not praying with specifics requests.  Instead, I am praying for clarity, for guidance, for the ability to accept what is unknown, and for the ability to better channel God's love into my life.  Since I started praying, I have had two dreams about Theresa Caputo.  In both dreams I met her, talked to her, and really liked her, but for some reason she was unable to read me.  I woke twice with a feeling of, "It's not real.  She's not truly channeling the dead."

But you know me, my loyalties are not fragile enough to be broken by a dream.  Besides, it's just as crazy to believe that God sent me a message in a dream that the Long Island Medium isn't real, as it is to believe in mediums in the first place.  After a lot of thought, I have come to believe that the dreams don't mean that Theresa is a fake.  Whether she is real or not has no impact on me.  I believe that there is something to be gleamed from them, though.  Whether the message came from God answering my prayers, or the deep recesses of my mind where a teeny bit of logic still resides, is up for debate. (Yes, I swear there is a bit of logic left in there somewhere.  It just doesn't show itself very often.)  What matters is that I have taken from these dreams the realization that I do not need to see a medium.  Would I like to?  Heck yeah! I haven't thrown in the towel by a long shot, but I am slowly abandoning the obsession with talking to my grandmother through a medium.  (Slowly is the key word here too, I might add.  Old habits die hard.)  I've been questioning the validity of channelers, but more importantly, I've been contemplating my fascination with the contacting my grandmother. All this thinking and praying has actually given me some clarity, believe it or not.  I've had several mini-epiphanies over the last month, which are helping to ease some of my obsession.

While I think absolute clarity and resolution are ultimately impossible, three people have helped me to see things with a healthier perspective lately.  The first is my friend Kelley, who after talking to her husband, urged me to be careful in my pursuit to contact the dead, for fear of unholy workings.  It is because of my conversation with her that I have been praying more.  The other was my friend, Sharon, who suggested that I wasn't actually longing for my grandmother, but instead for the comfort which I have always associated with her.  And the third was my friend Jen, who gave me a book to read over the summer about women who lost their mothers in childhood.  By assembling the input from these three sources, I am approaching a better understanding of myself and my needs.

It was that fated conversation with Kelley at work, which started me praying (you know, the one which gave me a disdainful visual of Heinz Hall, full of minions, brainwashed by Satan, all through the hands of the Long Island Medium.  Click here if you didn't read that post).   I don't believe that Theresa Caputo or any other medium is under the influence of Satan.  I felt nothing but good at the show last weekend.  True or untrue, it was entertainment.  If you take it at face value - as entertainment, and not as a guarantee that you are going to talk to your dead mother - then the influence of evil is erased.   I believe it is possible that true mediums exist.  I think some people who claim to be mediums are phony, out to make a buck, skilled at reading people.  Lots of people make money by swindling.  However, I also believe it's completely possible that some people have been given the gift of connecting with the dead.  Likewise, I believe it's entirely possible for our loved ones to visit, guide and protect us from beyond the grave.   I don't believe for one minute that Heaven is cut off from the earthly world.  I think that there are many planes of existence coinciding at any given moment, with Heaven included in those strata.  I don't think that Theresa Caputo is evil, or that her gift comes from a bad place.  That, however, is not to say that I don't think that evil can come into play with mediums.  I believe that the evil comes not from our loved ones talking through a medium, but rather from our desperation to know the answers to questions that are perhaps simply not our burden to carry.  It's that desperation that ultimately undermines our faith and belief in a higher power.  Desperation leads to obsession, to constant questioning, including (and perhaps, especially) questioning the existence of God, leading to extreme anger and possibly in turn, godlessness.  That is when evil wins.  So, while I don't agree completely with my friend, I am also not dismissing her position.  In fact, I would say that I partially agree.  I've never been good with black and white scenarios.  To me, there are always gray areas to be found, and mediums are no exception.  Evil certainly could be at play, but it doesn't necessarily have to be.

Honestly, I could see myself heading down the path of desperation.  I don't always need to know all the details of my life.  I don't always need to be the one in charge, but there are also plenty of times when I do need order.  When it comes to the grief related to my grandmother's passing, I feel disordered, out of control.  It grips me out of nowhere, comes without warning and stays as long as it likes.  I can list all kinds of clinically sound ways to deal with grief, but when it all boils down, I don't really know how to implement any of those methods effectively in my own life.  You can understand why after 24 years, I have moments when I feel beyond desperate.  A person can only take so much.  I joked that Kelley ruined my night out with that awful visual of Satan's minions, but in all seriousness, it was that talk with her that made me think that perhaps I should pray more.  If it's not apparent, I am indeed grateful for her care and for her words.  Up until that point, it didn't really cross my mind that perhaps God was calling to me back to Him, because I was straying too far.  Don't worry, I'm not going to get all bible-thumping, crazy religious on you!  This isn't about me shouting the words of God from the rooftops.  It's about my own personal journey.  So, without telling anyone right away, I began to pray more often, and I have continued for the last few weeks, trying to make a habit of it.  I pray while I am getting ready for work, in the middle of the day when I feel that tightness in my chest, while I make dinner, before falling asleep.  I stopped allowing my mind to wander mid-prayer.  If I lose track of my prayer, I start over and stay focused.  I stopped asking for things, and instead just ask for guidance and acceptance, for the ability to soothe this pain through God's love.  This isn't going to be a testimony about how my life has been transformed overnight by the healing power of God.  God hasn't touched me, or whispered in my ear. I'm not feeling the need to declare myself born again.  My life hasn't drastically changed for the better, and the grief has not disappeared.  But I am aware of God's presence more often.  Right now, just being aware is plenty for me.  It's a big enough change to make a difference in my opinion, and thereby, also in my emotions.  It's working...slowly and without exaggeration, comfortably.

I had a hair appointment after I wrote that last blog entry too.  If you didn't already know, my friend and neighbor has been cutting my hair.  It was just the two of us in her shop that night, and she had read my blog.  She gave me her perspective on the medium.   We talked about me maybe needing to pray more, but what really struck me was when she said this: "Maybe you feel like you need comfort, and because your grandmother was the one who gave you comfort in childhood, you feel like that's where you need to go now." Bingo!  I don't know why I didn't figure this out for myself a long time ago, but she is completely right.  I am displacing my inefficiencies to self soothe, looking for an easy answer.  It's not really about my grandmother. It's about searching for solace.  Not that I don't want to talk to my grandmother.  Of course I do, but if all this bellyaching isn't really about her in the first place, then what good would a medium do?  It wouldn't do much good at all.

This is also where the book that Jen gave me comes into play.  It is very common for women (and men too, I imagine) to look for a resolution to grief in ways which are not reachable.  My life problems would not be gone if my grandmother were still alive.  Even though I feel like that's what I desperately need, I know that if I talked to her through a medium, nothing would really change.  After that hour, she would still be dead.  I'd still be unable to channel her myself, and I'd still be facing the same problems that made me feel so desperate in the first place.   On the flip side, if I could learn to distinguish the difference between true grief, and my inherent, ongoing melancholia, and more importantly, to pacify myself, then maybe I could also lighten my own heavy heart.

I think prayer is a good place to start, because through prayer not only do I become closer to the ...."let go, and let God," mindset,  but I also magnify the blessings in my life.  I have long said that gratitude is one of the key components to happiness, and I stand by that statement to this day.  It is probably not a coincidence that all of these thoughts are culminating right before November, the month which I traditionally set aside for gratitude.  It's perfect timing for me to put into practice what I am preaching.

Am I giving up on the Long Island Medium?  No way!  I love that show.  I'm still going to watch it, and if I have the money, in two or three years when I've made my way to the top of the waiting list, I will absolutely go for a private reading.  But the obsession is definitely waning.  When I feel that desperation mounting (and it will inevitably ebb and flow until the day I die), instead of allowing myself to become consumed with contacting my grandmother and finding the answers to all of my earth-bound questions, I will pray for guidance and comfort from God, and I will remain hopeful that someday I won't feel so desperate.

In the meantime, if you have the opportunity to see Theresa and you are a believer, I suggest you go.  She was loud, bubbly, charismatic an compassionate.   She did readings for over two hours, with no breaks.  She even walked to all the levels of the hall, which I thought was great.  I thoroughly enjoyed watching her.  Go.  Get validated! And have fun!

Reunion Sunday

I had a busy weekend!  On Saturday, I impressed myself with all of the "chores" I completed before noon.  I was a woman on a mission!  The reason for the hustle was because I had two trips to Pittsburgh scheduled. Yes, two trips in one weekend.  On Saturday, my mom, my aunt and I went to see the Long Island Medium at Heinz Hall.  It was a great show.  I enjoyed it very much.  I know with all of my recent posts on mediums, you are probably expecting a practical dissertation about my experience on Saturday.  Well, I have a lot of thoughts on the medium, but I'm not sure if I'm going to post them.  I'm still mulling it over.  Oh, let's face it.  I'll write about it.  Nothing stays inside my head for any length of time before spilling out one way or another!  Maybe I'll write about those things tomorrow, but for a Monday morning, let's keep the reading light and easy.  

While I had a great time going to the show on Saturday, the part of the weekend I was most looking forward to was Sunday.  One of my dear friends from Pittsburgh is retiring, and another one of our friends hosted a get-together in honor of the retiree.   I said in my last post, that I keep in fairly good touch with Marsha, Donna and Norma, but my contact with the other ladies is sporadic.  Despite the spotty contact, these are women whom I will always hold very dear.  I worked at AT&T for about 9 months after I graduated from college, but I don't consider that a real job.  Allegheny East was my first true "grown up" job.  It's where my roots began to grow.  I've been transplanted several times since then, and only recently found myself back in what I would consider to be permanent ground.  I couldn't have asked for a more supportive, loving, kind, generous and fun-loving group of women to be both my friends and my mentors.  I look up to these women.  I value their wisdom, and most of all, I thank God for blessing me with their friendship.  

I was only in Pittsburgh for a little over 5 hours on Sunday.  No matter how much time I spend with them, I always leave feeling as if I didn't get enough.  I knew before I went over that I wouldn't want to leave, but unfortunately, life has a way of pulling us back to reality.  I left feeling sad that I had to say good-bye again, but also feeling very warm and blessed.   It's an understatement to say that I am amazed at the blessings in my life.  Really, I'm amazed.   It's easy to worry about things that could go wrong in the future, to become stressed by daily hassles, and to replay things that have gone wrong in the past.  I do all three.  It is, however, just as easy to focus on the fantastic foundations that have been set in our lives to prepare us to receive future blessings.  I've been blessed with abundant goodness in my life.  Without hesitation, I can say that I count the women I worked with at Allegheny East high on that list of goodness.  I am thankful our paths crossed twelve years ago, and I appreciate their continued influence in my life.  

Thank you, AE Girls, for just being yourselves!  As always, it was a delight to spend the afternoon with you, and I hope that we can do it again soon!  I love you all! 

Donna kick starts her L.L.Bean modeling career with a cozy pose by the wood stove with Jesse.

The whole gang - Pam, Roz, Eleanor, Marsha, Norma, Michele and Donna.  Aren't they a beautiful crew? 

Happy Halloween

While the rest of the United States is still eagerly awaiting Halloween, we here in Blair County are pretty much done with our celebrating.  I don't know why, but our trick-or-treat is always the Thursday before Halloween.  (If anyone knows the origin of this tradition, I'd love to hear it!)  Last weekend we found our ideal pumpkins.  On Tuesday, we carved them and roasted some delicious seeds, and on Thursday we took the boys Halloweening.  On Friday, Jacob had his school parade and party.  Greg is playing at a Halloween party tonight, but other than that, we are finished with the ghoulish holiday.  Jacob has held Halloween as his favorite holiday for a good many years now.  This is the first year that Andrew really got into it, but I can see it becoming a fast favorite for him too.  We had a great October, especially the parts including anything related to Halloween, and I truly hope all of you did too!  

Pumpkin lover

"Are you sure about that, Dad?"

"Eww....'sgusting!" 

I'll give Andrew credit.  Although his face shows obvious disgust, 

"

he still stuck his hand inside the pumpkin and scooped the guts out!  

Jake helped with the scooping this year, but it took him until he was 7 to do more than observe the carving process! 

After all of that work cleaning out his pumpkin, Andrew decided against carving it.  Oh well.  We got the seeds to roast, and he was able to practice some of his art skills! 

Peace pumpkin! 

The finished masterpieces

Trick or Treat night, on my in-law's porch

"Give me candy, or I'll kick  you in the shin!" 

"Hi-ya!" 

Two crime fighting brothers

My niece, Kiersten (the cat) and her girlfriend.

Even Greg got into the Halloween spirit.  He makes a pretty woman, doesn't he?! 

Loot!  

More loot!  

School parade

Kiersten

And Brooke

Now that Halloween is over with, this weekend is going to be a very exciting one for me.  Tonight my mom, aunt and I are going to see Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium at Heinz Hall.  I'm not sure what to expect from this show.  Obviously with a venue as big as Heinz Hall, she's not going to do private readings.  I'm curious and excited to see what is in store.  (And, I'll be honest, it'll be nice to just get away and spend some adult time out!)  

Tomorrow, I am heading back to Pittsburgh for the afternoon to celebrate a dear friend's retirement.  I'm actually more excited about the retirement party than I am about the Long Island Medium.  You all know how much I love LIM, so it says a lot that the retirement party trumps Theresa!  When I worked at Allegheny East (now Milestone), I was truly blessed with a large group of loving, supportive, kind and generous women.  It is a privilege to call these women my friends, and I can't wait to see them all together in one place again.  I keep in touch with Marsha, Norma, and Donna.  You hear about the three of them from time to time, but my contact with some of the other women is intermittent at best.  Despite the spotty contact, I always think of these ladies with nothing but warmth, and I'm thrilled to still be thought of and included in their celebrations, 9 years after leaving Pittsburgh.  

That said, I have a lot to do before I hit the road (twice!) this weekend.  I better get off the computer and get scrubbing!  

Crock Pot Recipes

Just a quickie entry to give you the recipes for the the crock pot recipies I made last weekend.  Two of them, the chicken chili and the chicken tagine, are old favorites of mine.  I can vouch for their taste, but the other two are recipes that I have not tried before.  I feel a little premature endorsing them without trying them.  I can say this: all of the recipies were very easy.  Here are some tips for you before you get started:

• Before I start, I write on the bag with black sharpie.  I include the name of the recipe, the date, any serving instructions I may forget (like, serve over rice, quinoa, etc), and if it's a new recipe, I write the ingredients down so I remember what's in it. 
• Put the bags into large serving bowls to hold them upright, so your ingredients don't spill all over the counter.
• Pull the garbage can next to you.  You'll have a lot of stuff to pitch!   
• Lay out all of the utensils and ingredients you are going to need before you start, so you aren't wasting time searching for things.  I also put things away as soon as I am finished using them (or, in the case of utensils, in the sink), so that by the time the bags are completed, the only clean up I have is wiping the counters.  
• Cut up all your veggies before you start.  I think it helps make assembly feel more streamlined.  
• Assemble all the ingredients in the bags first, and then put the meat into all of them at once. That way, you don't have to keep washing your hands or worry about contamination.  
• When you freeze the completed bags, it's a good idea to leave them in the bowls until they are solid.  One, if they have a hole, it will catch the leak instead of allowing goop to run all through your freezer.  Two, if you freeze a gallon zip lock bag flat, depending on your crock pot, it may not fit when you are ready to cook it.  (It's a good idea to check the bowls to make sure they are an OK size too).  
• On that note, when you are ready to make your dishes, you may have to allow the bag to thaw just a little before you get the food out, because the bag will freeze into the liquid.  Keep that in mind, and allow an hour or so of thaw time when you want to prepare it.  You may not be able to just pull it out of the freezer and throw it into your crock pot.  

I think that's it.  Now, on to the recipes.  

First up, Chicken Chili:

This recipe came from the Woman's Day website.  My sister in law shared it with me several years ago, and it quickly became a family favorite.  If you want to see the original recipe, click on the name. 

Ingredients: 

1 16 ounce jar salsa Verde

2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs (the original says to cut them, but I don't.  They end up very tender and break apart with a fork when it's all done.  It's an unnecessary step, in my opinion)

1 15 ounce can of corn, drained

1 15 ounce can of cannellini beans, rinsed

2 cubanelle peppers, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 teaspoons cumin

1/2 tsp salt

Throw everything into the crock pot, and cook on low for 6 hours.  I serve it over rice with a heaping spoonful of sour cream mixed in.  

Chicken Tagine 

This is a recipe from Good Housekeeping.  It's a Moroccan dish that goes well over quinoa.  You can click on the link to see the original.  I don't use the olives that it calls for.  

Ingredients:

1 bag of frozen butternut squash

2 medium tomatoes, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 can garbanzo beans, rinsed

1 cup chicken broth

1/3 cup raisins

2 tsp coriander

2 tsp ground cumin

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

3 pounds chicken thighs

Combine squash, tomatoes, onion, garlic, beans, broth, and raisins in the bag.  In a shallow bowl, combine the coriander, cumin, cinnamon, salt and pepper.  Rub the spice mixture all over the chicken thighs and place on top of the vegetables.  Cook on low 6-8 hours.  The original recipe says to serve it over cous cous, which I'm sure would be good.  I actually love cous cous, but I serve it with quinoa because it's a healthier carb.  This is one that's even better as left overs.  When I freeze this bag, I put the chicken on top.  I get it out of the freezer about an hour before putting it into the crock pot to loosen the bag from the frozen crevices.   I cut open the bottom of the bag to let the contents fall out in the order I put them into the bag, so the chicken stays on top.  If the chicken were to be at the bottom, the spice rub would come off during cooking.  Cutting the bottom of the bag worked well for me the last time I did it.    

Now, the next two recipes are ones I have not tried, so here are my advanced apologies if you make them and they are terrible!

Crock Pot Hawaiian Chicken

This recipe came from a blog I found on Pinterest.  The link is embedded in the recipe title, if you want to see some of the other recipes they recommended.  There are lots of these types of recipes on Pinterest, so if you find that you like making freeze ahead crock pot recipes, I encourage you to search Pinterest for more ideas.  I really just started doing this myself.  I intend to do more in the near future.  As I gather recipes I find good, I will pass them on! Now, onto the recipe:

Ingredients:

2-3 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup vinegar

3 cloves of garlic, minced

2 tablespoons soy sauce

1/2 cup large pineapple chunks

1/2 cup pineapple juice (use what's in the can)

Add all ingredients to the bag and freeze.  Cook in a crock pot on low for 4-5 hours.  Serve over rice.  

Creamy Mushroom Chicken

This last recipe is from a little cookbook that someone gave me as a gift.  It smelled good when I was putting it together, so we shall see...Definitely not the healthiest recipe in the bunch, but hey, every once in a while, we all need some creamy, fatty comfort food, right?

Ingredients: 

2-3 pounds of chicken

2 10 ounce cans of cream of chicken soup

8 ounce can sliced mushrooms, drained

1 cup chicken broth

1 package onion soup mix

I put everything except the chicken into the bag and then kind of squished it all around to mix it well.  Then I threw in the chicken.  Cook on low for 5-6 hours.

One of the nice things I have found about doing frozen crock pot bags, aside from the ease, is that it takes longer to cook.  I don't know about you guys, but I often leave for work early in the morning and don't return until dinner time.  Depending on the day, that may be 9 hours or more.  Many times, my food is over cooked, even if I put it on low.  When it's frozen, it has to thaw, which slows the cooking time down enough that the food isn't burned, but it's still ready to go when I step in the door!   

If anyone has any good crock pot recipes to share, I'd love to have them.  The crock pot is one of my best friends, and I love to use it!  

Pumpkin Hunting

I don't know about you, but I am sure sick of all those serious posts.  My brain is fried.  I'm done with them, at least for a while, so here's some plain old easy reading for you.  

On Saturday, my mom and I grabbed the boys and trekked over to the Pittsburgh area to meet my family at Riley's Summer Seat Farm (click to view) to search for pumpkins and enjoy the fall/Halloween festivities.  We've gone the last three or four years, and the kids always have a good time.  We took a hay ride to the pumpkin patches, where the kids traipsed through some serious mud in order to find the best pumpkins ever.  Luckily, this year all of the kids were easy to please, and we had our hands full of plump, round pumpkins within half an hour.  We loaded them back onto the tractor and rode down to the area surrounding the greenhouse, where all of the festivities were.  The kids had a great time playing games, going down the big slide, feeding the animals in the petting zoo (well, Ella wasn't so wild about the petting zoo, come to think of it), and eating lots of goodies.  When we were done, we ate dinner at my aunt's house.  Usually we stay over night when we go to Pittsburgh, but mom and I both had a lot to do this weekend, so we decided to drive back.  She drove, of course, because I am blind as a bat at night.  

This morning, I ironed 2 weeks worth of clothes for myself and the boys, made as much of our lunches as I could, and made 5 meals to make in the crock pot and froze them in bags for later use.  All of that on top of the routine stuff - bathroom, cat box, laundry, kitchen cleaning, etc.  I am just about finished with my weekend cleaning, but I need a break.  I don't know how people who are disorganized, or not planners, make it through life.  Sometimes I get overwhelmed with all of the stuff I feel like I need to do in advance.  Believe it or not, there are times when I just let stuff go by the wayside, but I always, always, always regret when I do that.  If I don't plan meals, then we eat crap, because I'm too tired to cook, let alone plan, dinners when I get home from work.  This house is big, and I can just imagine the mess if I didn't have a cleaning and organizing schedule (including, most importantly, frequent purging of unnecessary stuff).  Mornings are hectic enough as it is, and I can't imagine how much worse they would be if I didn't have all of our clothes laid out, lunches packed, etc.  I try to remind myself of that when I feel like saying, "To hell with it, I'm not planning today."  I know that I am going to be glad later this week and next week, when I am be able to say, "Oh, I have those crock pot bags ready to make!"  And the 5 bags alone will feed us for 10 days, giving us at least 2 days worth of dinner each.  Yay!

Anyway, I digress.  I didn't intend to write about my cleaning and cooking routine.  I meant to just show you some pictures from our day of fun yesterday.  Here they are:

Vampire teeth!

No one gets to the pumpkins without first answering to the big black cat! 

What a handsome little pumpkin picker! 

"Mom, this one is part watermelon."  (Yes, he actually said that!) 

Andrew had to forgo this one.  As much as he loved it, he couldn't lift it.  

Jake, on the other hand, grabbed the biggest pumpkin in the patch! 

I love this picture ~ 'These pumpkins are stinkin' heavy!" 

Jake does his "Ehhh...what's up doc" impersonation.

The cousins (and a friend of Ella's) with their treasures.

Brynn had fun watching the kids.

Andrew's a natural vampire...except for being able to tolerate the sunlight, of course.

A little bashful with the face painting girl...

...but very proud of his bat when she was done!

Happy bat boy

Kid sized corn mazes can be a little tricky for adults! 

Jacob was happy as a squirrel with a nut when he found hot apple cider and dry, over-done hamburgers! Mmmm! 

Slide time! 

"What's this thing called, Mimi?  It looks weird." 

"Uh...are you sure I'll like it?"

"You were right!  It's delicious!  Help me make another!"  (No, it wasn't really his first roasted marshmallow.  I'm just being silly!)

Jake took a turn down the slide too, and then promptly fell into a puddle of mud.  Luckily it was towards the end of our trip, so he didn't have to spend the entire time walking around with what looked like, well, you know what, on his pants! 

Unhappy Medium

After Jacob was born, I dabbled with trying to get my masters in psychology, namely counseling.  I went to school for 3 semesters, totally burned myself out, and dropped out of school, amassing nothing except some relatively useless knowledge and a good deal of debt.  I didn't burn out on school.  I burned out on life, and in the course of that crash I realized that taking all those psych classes wasn't really about me wanting to be a counselor.  I have enough problems of my own.  I don't want to listen to other people bemoan life all day long.  In fact, it was those personal issues which motivated my course selection.  I didn't want to counsel others, I wanted to heal myself.  The attempt was interesting and informative, but in the long run, a failure.  I am far from healed.  In fact, I often wonder if I am even capable of healing.  The knowledge wasn't totally useless.  I genuinely enjoyed those courses, and I reflect on them frequently.  I guess I use it in my job somewhat, but not enough to really justify the money I put into it.  Nonetheless, I have a slew of psychology courses under my belt, tucked away in the back of my mind, just waiting to be tapped into.  Anyone feel like having a go?

In psychology, they talk about cognitive dissonance.  It's a common enough occurrence of holding two conflicting beliefs at the same time.  Or it can refer to doing something when your beliefs tell you that it is wrong.  It's not a good place to be.  It can make people feel very uncomfortable, and typically this discomfort causes people to either rationalize their beliefs or justify their actions so that they no longer feel discord.  Humans are very good at rationalizing away cognitive dissonance, and I am certainly no exception.

One way people can alleviate cognitive dissonance is through the belief disconfirmation paradigm.  Basically, when we are given information that is inconsistent with the beliefs we have shaped our lives around, we have two choices - we can accept the new information and change our beliefs or we can explain away why the new information is either incorrect or misinterpreted so that we then feel comfortable with the current particulars.

Why am I telling you this?  Did you unwittingly sign up for a mini psychology course when you clicked on my link?  Why yes, yes you did!  Email me your address and I will send you a certificate of completion in the mail.  I think this can be used as Act 48 credits too!

Just kidding (obviously).  So what is the scoop then?  The scoop is that I am personally feeling a lot of cognitive dissonance, and also feeling trapped within the belief disconfirmation paradigm.

A friend and I were talking at lunch about ghosts and mediums and whatnot's.  It's become a bit of a joke between us, because I am obsessed with it right now, and she thinks it's all absolute hogwash.  I can see her point of view.  She can make fun of mine.  In all seriousness though, she told me that she (or moreover her husband) is worried about my delving into the spirit world, because it is not God's will.  We are not meant to traipse into the paranormal, and that if mediums do exist, then they are obtaining their information through wicked channels, not good.  I could be putting myself in danger, playing around with something that is beyond my capabilities.  I poo-pooed her initially, but she planted a seed in my head.  I went for a run and thought about it the entire time, and I've been thinking about it ever since.  I had this awful picture of me and my family sitting in Heinz Hall watching the Long Island Medium, all being brainwashed by Satan as we sat, an unsuspecting audience.  Damn-it.  I was so excited to go.  Now I'm dealing with some serious cognitive dissonance.

I never really believed in Satan, but I have to question how I believe in good and not believe in evil? Can you have one without the other?  I always thought it was possible, that people are innately good, but that circumstances cause corruption.  People have faults and weaknesses.  That doesn't make them inherently evil, nor does it mean that Satan is the driving force behind every contemptible act.  I believe evil exists here in the human world.  I believe in selfish, misguided, cruel and heartless people.  Heck, I see them every day.  But I don't necessarily believe that I am going to burn in hell.  Nor do I believe that anyone burns in hell, for that matter.  When I think about God, I think about a being that is merciful and benevolent.  I believe in atonement, that we may not be granted entry to Heaven (or whatever the highest level of the afterlife may be) without making amends for our earthly wrongdoings, but I don't believe that any soul would suffer in the eternal flames of hell, not if God is good and loves us.  He gives us as many chances as we need to make things right.  That's just what I've always thought.  Now, I'm wondering if it's possible that Satan put that thought into my head to diminish my faith. Why not?  Could be.  Do I really believe that Satan is inside my head?  Um, no...not really, but maybe...I don't know.  Again, cognitive dissonance, belief disconfirmation paradigm.  What am I going to do with this information?

I want to know more specifics.  I have been told by many people that mediums do the devil's work, and that I should not play with the spirit world.  I want to know exactly why.  I can see not messing around with the spirits of random wayward folk, like those we may or may not have encountered at the U.S. Hotel.  If they lived questionably, then perhaps in death they are still questionable.  I didn't know them in life, and I am probably not meant to know them in death.  It's just truly morbid curiosity that drives those types of hunts, and maybe that's really unnecessary.  Life can be ugly enough on its own, so leave the dead to their own filth.  I'm fine with that.  It was really just entertainment anyway.  But what about my grandmother?  She wasn't evil in life, and I'm certain she's not doing Satan's work in death either.  I know that in no way was my friend saying that my grandmother was evil.  She was worried about my dabbling, not Gram.  But I'm not trying to resurrect her.  I'm not sitting in the dark with my Ouija board, trying to reenact some macabre scene from Pet Semetary.  I just want to know if she is able to visit from time to time.  Has she seen my boys?  Can she give me some guidance, because I'm wandering hopelessly lost more days than not?

If I accept that there is no real way to contact the souls of our passed loved ones, or I accept that the only ways of contacting them are indeed malevolent, then I lose the hope which I have been clinging to for nearly a quarter of a century.  To throw that hope away is a crushing prospect.  What can replace the space that it has occupied for so long?  Oh, I know what you're going to say.  Faith.  Faith in what?  God?  Ah, yes, that sounds lovely!  I would love to have a faith strong enough to fill my emptiness! That is exactly what I have been craving since I was just a child, but it just doesn't happen that way.  I can't just denounce all of my hopes and dreams at night and awaken saved by divinity in morning.

I told my coworker that I can't even say with 100% certainty that I believe in God.   I then thought about that statement all day.  I have said before that I think there's a possibility that there is nothing bigger than us out there.  It's possible.  But ultimately, I don't not believe.  I have an inkling of faith, a small but undeniable conviction in my heart that there is a God.  Maybe I just don't know enough.  Maybe I haven't yet found the teachings that best suit me.  Maybe I just haven't been exposed enough to God at all, through nobody's fault but my own.  That portion of me remains rough, uneducated and uncultivated.  There's lots of room for improvement, for sure.

Something has got to give.  Something has to change.  How many times have I said that over the last two and a half decades?  Too many to count.  When will it change?  When will I find what I am searching for?  I sure hope it's not too much longer, because I am driving myself crazy in the meantime.

There's Proof in Song

"The function of music is to release us from the tyranny of conscious thought."  

~ Sir Thomas Beecham  

Warning:  This blog entry is going to be kooky, corny and cheesy at times.  Read at your own risk. Feel free to roll your eyes.

Preface:

I carry with me, all day, every day, a physical sensation of something which I have come to believe is grief. It's a heaviness I feel in my head, neck and throat.  It's there all the time.  Sometimes it's worse than others, but it's never gone.  It's always there.  Nothing I do can chase it away.  Nothing except singing. (Yes, here's the corny part 1.  Go ahead and make fun. I deserve it, and I can take it!) To chase the demons away, I sing.  I sing a lot, especially when I am alone.  I sing anything and everything from old junior high chorus songs, to college choir songs, from show tunes to lullabies.  I don't put a lot of thought into what I sing.  I just open my mouth and something always manages to come out.  (Now brace yourself for the second corny part.) When I am signing, especially when I am singing alone, I often feel a sense of comfort outside of myself.  It's not necessarily my own voice that is making me feel better (if you've heard me sing, you can attest to the fact that it's unlikely to be my own voice that's bringing me comfort), but rather that there is something, someone, listening and emitting a spell of solace.  I like to think that maybe my grandmother listens to me sing.  Maybe it's her presence that I feel, comforting me, trying to heal my broken heart.  This is something that I have felt for years, but never told another person, not even Greg, mostly because I think it's ridiculously cheesy and schmaltzy.  Now I'm telling the whole world.  Go big or go home, right?

I sing many songs, but there are three in particular that always remind me of my grandmother, each for different reasons.  The first is Something in the Way She Moves, by James Taylor (you can click on the titles to hear the songs if you feel so inclined).  I realize this song is not about a mother figure at all, but the words still resonate with me, "I feel fine any time she's around me now... And if I'm well, you can tell she's been with me now.  She's been with me now, quite a long, long time, yes and I feel fine." When I was first born and in my early childhood, my grandmother was my stability.  When so many other things were unpredictable, her home remained a constant.  Her mood was consistent.  There was no guess work involved when it came to Gram.  I was confident in where I stood, and I knew that I stood at the top of the ladder. What is more comforting to a child than that?  Doesn't it only seem right that knowing that she is still with me would bring me comfort in adulthood as well?  "She's been with me now, quite a long, long time.  Yes and I feel fine."

The second song is Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.  Stevie wrote it when she was at a crossroads, trying to move on from being a small child to being an adult, in control of her own life, figuring out where her life was going.  She was at a friend's home in Colorado looking out at the mountains, which gave her the idea of a landslide.  I've heard different stories regarding who it was written for - her dad, Lindsey -  It really doesn't matter.  It's about her coming to her own, on her own.  "Well, I've been 'fraid of changing, 'cause I built my life around you."  Could there be lyrics more fitting to me than these?  A large portion of my life issues stem from an inability, or better yet, a refusal to let go of the grief I carry for my grandmother.  I almost feel like if I let go of my grief, I let go of her, and I just can't bring myself to do that.  I understand logically that letting go of the grief is what I need to do, what she would want me to do.  It would not, in fact, mean letting go of her at all, but the thought of such a monumental change is scary.  I haven't yet gotten to the point where I can make those necessary steps.  At the same time, holding on to this sadness allows the sadness to hold on to me.  I always feel like I am one small step away from a personal landslide.  Listening to Stevie makes me feel as if perhaps there is hope.  Maybe I will be able to get beyond myself someday.  "Time makes you bolder.  Children get older, and I'm getting older too..." Maybe if I can gather the courage to someday climb the mountain instead of just sitting bewildered at the bottom, I will find something happily different, yet tenderly familiar on the other side.

(The last song is "Wintersong," by Sarah McLachlan.  It doesn't have any role in this story, so I'm not including it in this entry.  You should still listen to it, however.  I just love her voice and this song.  So beautiful.)

Moving on now from the background to the main story...

Remember in my last blog entry when I said that I never talk out loud to the dead, because it makes me feel crazy?  Well, I talked yesterday.  And guess what?  I sure felt crazy!  I was alone in the house, doing my weekly cleaning.  I was planning to go on a ghost hunt at the U.S.Hotel with Greg and a friend on Saturday evening.  My friend told me that one of the men who conducts the hunts is a medium who actually channeled her father.  Of course, you all know my obsession with mediums, so it's only fitting that I spent the next few days thinking about whether or not my grandmother could possibly come through during the ghost hunt.  I decided to ask her to come, out loud, in case the dead can't in fact read minds.  The words fell like big clumsy rocks out of my mouth and onto the hard wood floors of my parlor, but I forced myself to say them anyway.  I said something like this, "Gram, I am going to see a medium tonight at the U.S. Hotel.  If he really can see and hear you, can you please tell him 'coffee beans' for me?  That can be our code phrase.  I know that the coffee bean conversation was between Carmen and me, not you and me, but I know you had to be there when we were talking.  You don't have to say anything else.  Just 'coffee beans,' and I'll know you're there, you're here." (Don't know the coffee bean story?  Click here to read it.) That was the end of it.  I went about my cleaning, and of course, my singing.

As I mopped the upstairs, I sang Something in the Way She Moves twice.  I've been working on doing Landslide with my neighbor, so it's also in my head.  I've been singing it a lot lately, thinking of my grandmother each time.   When I came downstairs, I decided to put on Pandora and listen to some music while I finished cleaning.  I selected the James Taylor station.  Carolina In My Mind was the first song.  The second?  Something in the Way She Moves.  I listened to it, smiled, and said (out loud, even) "Did you do that?"  The third song?  Yep, you guessed it - Landslide.   Hmmm...seems almost serendipitous, doesn't it?  I know, they are both very popular songs.  Logically speaking, it's highly improbable that my grandmother controlled the songs which were piped over Pandora on Saturday morning.  (I find just that sentence to be highly amusing!) But like I said before, logic isn't always all it's cracked up to be.  It's awfully coincidental that those two songs played back to  back just moments after I spoke those awkward words, begging her for proof of her continued existence.  Who is to say what powers the dead have or don't have?  Hey, if I can control Pandora when I die, I'm totally going to hone that skill!

Are you wondering about the U.S.Hotel?  Did we find any spirits lingering in the dark rooms of the dilapidated second and third floors?  Better yet, was the medium overtaken by my grandmother's repeated shouts of "coffee beans?"

It was a fun evening.  Learning some of the history of the hotel was especially interesting.  Since I have known it, it's been a higher-end restaurant, attracting a reasonably polished crowd, a place for doctor's daughters to have their wedding rehearsal dinners.  I didn't realize that the hotel initially provided lodging for vagabonds and wayward folk, and was practically a brothel back in the early 1800s.  It remained to be a rather shady place pretty much into the late 1900s when the current owners purchased it and fixed it up.  A lot of people died there, for a lot of different reasons, few of which were on the up and up.  That's not an image I have of any place in my quaint little home town.  It was certainly thought-provoking.  As for the ghost hunt itself, well, maybe that's a blog entry for another day. I'll tell you this - no one spoke to me from the other side.  I wasn't grabbed or pushed.  I didn't hear any small children playing, and I didn't notice any smells other than those typical for a 200 year old building.  There were two instances when I thought a spirit could have been present, but I could also very easily explain them away.  The rest of the time, sadly, I think Greg and I were the lone skeptics in the group.  We enjoyed interacting with the other members of the group, though (and no, that doesn't mean that we played pranks on them!  They were nice people, and we are too...most of the time!)  It was fun to see their enthusiasm.  On the way home, I said to Greg, "I want to believe, but I'm just not quite sold yet."  I envy their faith in the afterlife, truly.  It was an exciting and unconventional anniversary date for us, and completely worthwhile, simply for its own sake.  I'm glad we went.

As for the medium, he showed no indication of being overcome with my grandmother's voice.  He did not come to me saying he sensed a strong female presence around me, compelling him to say the words "coffee beans."  There was no solid proof from a medium for me last night.  Unlike the last time I saw a medium, I can honestly say that I was not disappointed this time.  First of all, the intent of this dinner was not to channel our loved ones.  My expectations were to contact people I didn't know, not people near and dear.  More importantly, however, is that I have (believe it or not) made some progress in my obsession with contacting my grandmother.  Do I want to talk to her?  Yes!  Absolutely! Desperately!  But I also realize that reality dictates that I will not have the answers I am looking for until I die myself.  Maybe she's still with me, maybe she isn't.  I can choose to believe either possibility, and depending on my mood I vacillate between the two options.  The fact of the matter is that it is of very little consequence either way.  Her presence after death - my constant rumination and analyzing of it - none of those things make a darn bit of difference in the grand scheme of things.  She's gone.  End of story.  As I always say, "it is what it is."  Life goes on, and it goes on with the inclusion of grief.  I read a book a while ago that talked about people's frustration when they can't resolve their grief.  The problem is that there is no resolution, only accommodation.   Grief doesn't ever go away, we just learn to live with it, making room for it in our lives.  It would be a dream come true to have an encounter in a grocery store with a bona fide medium (if they actually exist), but even that could never fill the void that was left by her passing.  Nothing from the outside is going to make it easier.  I have to find a way of mending my own heart as best I can. I'm working on it.

I don't talk to the dead.  I can't see that changing any time soon, or ever changing for that matter.  There are a lot of things in my life that I need to change, but speaking out loud to my grandmother isn't on that list.   I'll connect with her in my own ways.  I'll sing, as I always have, and maybe that's enough to start the healing.  Maybe someday I will realize that I don't need any more proof than that which is carried in song.

Can The Dead Read Minds?

I know a lot of people who say they speak to their loved ones who have passed away.  I think that's great, and probably perfectly normal to a certain extent.  I, however, am not a talker...well, not when it comes to dead people, anyway.  I think about my grandmother multiple times every day, from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed.  Sometimes I even dream about her, although not nearly as much as I would like.  I wonder what her thoughts would be on things that happen in my life, but I just don't speak out loud.  It's not that I haven't tried.  I have.  But speaking words out loud to someone who isn't there leaves me feeling just a little bit...well...crazy.

I know I write about my grandmother all the time.  I can't help it.  She's on my mind all the time, as is a this fascination with what happens after we die.  I go back and forth on my stance on life after death.  I have several theories that I think are likely (most of which are not taught or condoned by the Church. I understand they may be deviant beliefs, but I maintain the right to hold my own spiritual beliefs in some sort of harmony with my personal afterlife thoughts.  I'm still coming to terms with all of that, if you can't tell).  I think it's possible that our souls are meant to learn certain life lessons, and that we are reincarnated until we reach the perfection that is meant for us.  I believe that karma, in both this current and previous lives, could really exist, creating for ourselves life circumstances  that are tailored according to our own actions.  It could be why we feel instant connections with some people as soon as we meet - perhaps we were linked in previous lives.  It's possible....

I think it's also possible that our souls live forever, that they are indeed individualized, one body per soul.  We get one chance to make it or break it, and what happens to our soul when we die depends on how we acted here on earth.  We could go to heaven.  I suppose we could go to hell, although I don't really believe in hell.  Or we could be somewhere in-between, either by choice or in order to make a few corrections before movin' on up.

Or, it could very well be true that there is simply nothing after death.  It's just life here and when you're gone, you're gone.  End scene.  Logically thinking, this is the most likely scenario, but we don't always think logically, do we?  And let's face it, logic isn't always all it's cracked up to be.

I wonder, if each living person has a soul, and those souls can experience eternal life, how is there room for all of them?  Does that mean that there are billions upon billions of souls floating around us?  That's a little creepy, if you ask me.  When we die, are we going to suddenly see that the space around us is in fact crowded with spirits?  Eek!

I also think about the connections that those of us who are still living have with those who have passed.  If, for example, my grandmother's soul is still present in my life, then she would also be present in the lives of the many other people who loved her.  She had six children, fifteen grandchildren, four sisters, and many, many nieces, nephews, cousins and friends, not to mention a husband who still gets teary at the mention of her name.  I imagine that all of them call on her from time to time.  All of us miss her.  We all need her in our lives.  How is it possible that she be with me all of the time, and also meet the needs of all the others?  If this the way the afterlife works, then death could be absolutely exhausting!

I have a lot of unresolved questions, and I'm obviously being a little silly in this post, in case you couldn't tell.  But it's not all a joke.  I do seriously struggle with some of these ideas.  There are times in my life when I feel like my grandmother is completely gone.  There is nothing left of her outside of my memories.  Then again, there are times when I feel the unmistakable sensation of her presence.  Is she there or is that just my imagination, my wishes, projecting something into nothing.  And if I never say a word out loud, if she is indeed with me, does she know that I am thinking of her?  Can she read my thoughts?  Do they summon her when my need is greatest?  In death, do we gain abilities that we did not possess in life?  Or is she simply looking at me, just as we would look at one another, wondering why I am sad?

While we're on the topic of looking, here's another question - if our passed loved ones can visit us at any time, and are with us forever, do they leave when it's not appropriate for company?  I mean, not to be rude, but there are just some things that I need to do alone.  Sometimes, maybe just because it is inappropriate, I wonder if she's there, which makes me a little uncomfortable, because what if, like I said above, our thoughts really can summon spirits?  Oh darn, I just summoned her in the middle of... (insert your own inappropriate action.  I don't have many, but there are just a few that I wouldn't want my grandmother to see).

So that's what has been going through my mind lately.  Just a little food for thought for your Thursday morning.  What do you all think?  Do you believe in the afterlife? What about reincarnation? Do you talk to the dead?  Do you think my grandmother has watched me....?  I'm curious - let me know!