OK, so that's not very original but I do love that song by Lady Antebellum. For those of you that don't know, the song is called "Need You Now" and the lyric is "It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now," and she is singing about missing a former lover and contemplating calling him.
I do love the song but I can assure you I am not contemplating calling a former lover. I know this because I have never ever really been in love. Now don't go getting all puppy-dog-eyed sad over that or feeling sorry for me cuz I don't feel sorry for myself but I do wonder what it would be like.
Now I did of course have a few boyfriends back in the day (and a husband once for a few years a loooong time ago) and I managed to convince myself at the time that I loved some of them but I know now it was never for real. And I have a couple of great kids, an excellent daughter-in-law who sacrificed much to take care of me especially during the first 2 weeks of my injury, and several super-duper grandkids so I know I am loved.
But I've never had that experience of first falling and then being in love with someone who feels the same way about me. And I have to admit I wonder what it would feel like. I also give some thought to why I haven't had it. As a child and young adult I believed it was because I
didn't deserve it. This belief came from my former family (that's what I call my birth family) who did a pretty good job of convincing me I was a bad accident that came along to screw up their lives (everyone but my maternal grandmother and a very special aunt made me feel that way). Again, put away those sad puppy-dog-eyes.
In recent years I have come to believe one of my goals in this life is to learn about love and sometimes we learn best by observing. Y'know, how you can't see the forest for the trees sort of thing. Because I have found that I love to watch love. It doesn't matter if it's in a movie, a commercial, or real life, but real life is definitely best. And it doesn't have to be the dewey-eyed, lusting-after-each-other love struck young folks kind of love either. It can be as simple as watching a man automatically taking the hand of a woman as they walk across a parking lot, or a mom wiping a smudge of chocolate from her child's face. A few weeks ago (pre-broken shoulder) I was in the grocery store and noticed a man, probably a 30-something dad, shopping with his young eight-year-old-or-so Down's Syndrome son. (Many of you know I have a soft spot for people with Down's Syndrome and if you don't I direct you to the story on my website (www.kathemartin.com) The boy was asking questions about some items in the store and general grocery store etiquette questions. The dad was answering the questions thoroughly and patiently which, under normal circumstances would have been more appropriate coming from a four year old. But, of course, they were normal for this young boy. The dad never talked down to his son and always gave clear, direct, honest answers. It was such a display of love I actually followed them for a few aisles until I got concerned I might get tagged as a stalker so I backed off.
Today we so often have the bad stuff thown in our faces, pictures of car bombings, starving children, bickering politicians, people shooting each other and on-and-on-and-on... instead, I urge you to look for love. Because it is out there and it is out there every day every where you go if only you will look for it. It can be like a rainbow - big and bright and right in front of your face but if you're not looking for it you can miss it.
The Tao Te Ching says, (loosely translated) "Individuals should know themselves well. If they are meant for love, they will know." I know I am not (and once again - no puppy-dog-eyes). But dang, once in awhile it would be nice to have someone who would be willing to run out and bring me a Chick-fil-a vanilla milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top!
Love to you all - go look for it!
Kathe
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Lucky
Alice Sebold, author of The Lovely Bones, wrote another book prior to The Lovely Bones called Lucky. It's a memoir recounting her brutal rape when she was a college student. The title came from the police telling her she'd been "lucky" because another girl had been murdered and dismembered in the same location where she had been raped. Albert Einstein taught us all things are relative (y'know that theory of relativity thing) so I guess in that context she was "lucky".
I don't know if I'm ready yet to consider incurring a broken shoulder lucky but it has afforded me time to think about a lot of stuff from my life and what I'm supposed to be doing with it, to who my friends are (now that's been a real eye opener!) to who exactly thought screw off caps were a good idea, cuz I can tell you they ain't so easy to open one-handed.
I've worked very hard in my life not to be judgemental. Frankly, that's a real challenge for me. I've never had much of a problem not judging people on the inane stuff most humans fight about like skin color or cultural origins or sexual orientation or whose God is better. Quite honestly that stuff just pisses me off because it's such a waste of time. It's like judging the quality of the Thanksgiving dinner based on the color of the table cloth. Ridiculous.
Where I get hung up is when people fail to help each other when they can and choose not to. T.B. Macaulay once said, "The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out." When we do things for others because we believe someone else will see and think us, therefore, to be a good person or to have done a good thing, I don't think it counts toward our karma brownie points. In fact, it may do just the opposite. But when we do something just because we believe it to be the right thing or to help someone just because we can then I think that is the measure of true integrity.
My broken shoulder has afforded me the opportunity to observe high levels of integrity in people I would have previously thought devoid of any. And therefore it has helped me to ease up on myself and others when I find myself feeling judgemental. So maybe in that context my broken shoulder has been a little bit "lucky".
I don't know if I'm ready yet to consider incurring a broken shoulder lucky but it has afforded me time to think about a lot of stuff from my life and what I'm supposed to be doing with it, to who my friends are (now that's been a real eye opener!) to who exactly thought screw off caps were a good idea, cuz I can tell you they ain't so easy to open one-handed.
I've worked very hard in my life not to be judgemental. Frankly, that's a real challenge for me. I've never had much of a problem not judging people on the inane stuff most humans fight about like skin color or cultural origins or sexual orientation or whose God is better. Quite honestly that stuff just pisses me off because it's such a waste of time. It's like judging the quality of the Thanksgiving dinner based on the color of the table cloth. Ridiculous.
Where I get hung up is when people fail to help each other when they can and choose not to. T.B. Macaulay once said, "The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out." When we do things for others because we believe someone else will see and think us, therefore, to be a good person or to have done a good thing, I don't think it counts toward our karma brownie points. In fact, it may do just the opposite. But when we do something just because we believe it to be the right thing or to help someone just because we can then I think that is the measure of true integrity.
My broken shoulder has afforded me the opportunity to observe high levels of integrity in people I would have previously thought devoid of any. And therefore it has helped me to ease up on myself and others when I find myself feeling judgemental. So maybe in that context my broken shoulder has been a little bit "lucky".
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Pre-Death Communications
The combo of Valium and Hydrocodone the docs have me on has afforded me the experience of what Jimmy Hendrix once famously called the "Purple Haze". Wooo hooo! So I slept most of the day and now it looks like I'll be up much of the night.
I spend a lot of time engaging in and pondering afterlife communications. With my ex-husband's critical illness progressing (tho he is still fighting a valiant fight for which I have the utmost respect) I have recently been giving thought to the importance of pre-death communications.
More than once clients have told me they can't wait for a mother, father, brother, etc., anyone with whom they've had a painful relationship, to die. I've come to realize this is because they believe that with the death will come release from the pain of the relationship. I felt this way myself when my own mother, who had very little interest in me, died when I was 17 years old. I am here to tell you from personal and professional experience, it just doesn't work that way. What you do lose, however, is forever having the opportunity to resolve that relationship in this physical lifetime. And more than once I have received a call just hours after the long-awaited death has occured from a distraugh client saying, "Oh my God, I can't believe he-she-whoever, is gone."
I hope you never find yourself in that position. So in an efffort to help you never find yourself in that position I am going to tell you a story I've told to a few clients and my daughter this week.
My father was a self-made business man with only a high school education who came of age in the Depression era of the 1930's. He had several businesses all under the name of Lyons & Co. (Lyons was my maiden name). I have often said my parents had one child and one child only and its name was Lyons & Co. Although he made a lot of money his health failed rapidly after my mother died in 1966 and when he died in 1984 he died a bitter, emotionally and financially broken, and lonely man. He had forced me out of his life years before focusing his attentions on Lyons & Co.
In May 1984 he needed major surgery and I was a full-time, working, single mom who had no time, money or - frankly interest - in going to see him in a state about 400 miles away. I didn't have a good feeling about the surgery (and I wasn't a practicing psychic then) but the last time I talked to him the day before the surgery I told him I loved him. There was a long pause before he responded, "I love you, too." He suvived the initial surgery but died 4 days later.
To this day, 26 years later, I still can't tell you if I meant it when I said it, but I can tell you I've never regretted saying it.
Just something for you to think about before you lose a once in a lifetime opportunity, forever.
I spend a lot of time engaging in and pondering afterlife communications. With my ex-husband's critical illness progressing (tho he is still fighting a valiant fight for which I have the utmost respect) I have recently been giving thought to the importance of pre-death communications.
More than once clients have told me they can't wait for a mother, father, brother, etc., anyone with whom they've had a painful relationship, to die. I've come to realize this is because they believe that with the death will come release from the pain of the relationship. I felt this way myself when my own mother, who had very little interest in me, died when I was 17 years old. I am here to tell you from personal and professional experience, it just doesn't work that way. What you do lose, however, is forever having the opportunity to resolve that relationship in this physical lifetime. And more than once I have received a call just hours after the long-awaited death has occured from a distraugh client saying, "Oh my God, I can't believe he-she-whoever, is gone."
I hope you never find yourself in that position. So in an efffort to help you never find yourself in that position I am going to tell you a story I've told to a few clients and my daughter this week.
My father was a self-made business man with only a high school education who came of age in the Depression era of the 1930's. He had several businesses all under the name of Lyons & Co. (Lyons was my maiden name). I have often said my parents had one child and one child only and its name was Lyons & Co. Although he made a lot of money his health failed rapidly after my mother died in 1966 and when he died in 1984 he died a bitter, emotionally and financially broken, and lonely man. He had forced me out of his life years before focusing his attentions on Lyons & Co.
In May 1984 he needed major surgery and I was a full-time, working, single mom who had no time, money or - frankly interest - in going to see him in a state about 400 miles away. I didn't have a good feeling about the surgery (and I wasn't a practicing psychic then) but the last time I talked to him the day before the surgery I told him I loved him. There was a long pause before he responded, "I love you, too." He suvived the initial surgery but died 4 days later.
To this day, 26 years later, I still can't tell you if I meant it when I said it, but I can tell you I've never regretted saying it.
Just something for you to think about before you lose a once in a lifetime opportunity, forever.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
4:00 a.m. thoughts on forgiveness...
I have been offline line for nearly a week due to some technical difficulties but I'm back now. I heard a line on a TV show recently, "Nothing good happens after 2:00 a.m." but I think that more applies to decisions to spend the night with a stranger or empty out your savings at the ATM. I usually wake up around 4:00-5:00 a.m. to go to the bathroom. This can be more attributed to a 61 year old bladder than a broken shoulder. I usually can go right back to sleep but these days the pain meds wear off about that time and it's not time for new ones yet, so I start to think. And sometimes that's more dangerous than emptying out the ATM at 2:00 a.m.
I got married in July 1971. Although the decision to do this wasn't a post 2:00 a.m. decision most indications would be that it was a bad one. It was an unhappy union, frequently abusive both mentally and emotionally and eventually devolved into a physically abusive one. I am going to spare you the gory details but I will tell you it involved a concussion on one occasion, at least two broken bones, guns on more than one occasion, and at one point being restrained and held hostage for several hours. Nuff said bout that.
It was a long, long time ago, I survived it and the marriage produced my two terrific kids both now grown and who have produced six grandchildren who are the light of my life.
I got divorced in July 1980 and my ex got remarried the same month to a woman who, God bless her for many reasons, he is still married to today. We'd been separated for two years before the divorce.
Time marches on. People grow, change, learn and move on and in general learn one way or another how to deal what life dishes out to them.
In July 2009 my ex was diagnosed with brain, lung, and liver cancer. Over the past nine months he has endured all the suffering that accompanies radiation and chemo therapies and a few side dishes like flesh eating bacterial infections to boot. This is where you might be tempted to think, "He deserves it", and this is where I say to you, not so fast.
My years of psychic work and learning about spirituality (as opposed to religion - big diff and the subject for a later post) have taught me a few things. First, we are all just a compilation of our own wounds and we are searching for a way to heal them. He didn't abuse me because he wanted to but because it was how he thought (erroneously) he could alleviate some of his pain, whatever that was and wherever that came from, and make himself feel better. Of course, it didn't work and he is responsible for his actions and has to answer for them in some place and time, somewhere, somehow, someday, in this world or another. While some think he owes me an apology, and maybe he does, the greater lesson here is to learn to forgive ourselves. So many times in trying to save ourselves or heal our wounds we try to do it by hurting or overpowering others. And that just doesn't work. What we do instead is create more pain for ourselves and often others and create for ourselves more karma.
I have a friend who thinks I should be nominated for sainthood for my ability to forgive him. (Well, maybe not sainthood, but something like that.) I have struggled with the essence of "forgiveness" for many years. Growing up Catholic I was taught you can do just about anything, go to confession on Saturday, say a few Hail Mary's in repentence, go to communion on Sunday, and start the whole process over again on Monday and St. Peter will welcome you with open arms when it's your turn to show up at the pearly gates.
I don't think it's that easy. I think we are all truly held accountable for what we do or don't do and I think there is a difference between forgiveness and absolution. It's easy for the priest to absolve you of your sins. All he does is assign a few minutes of homework of saying a few prayers. True forgiveness comes from within when we forgive ourselves and others.
In truth I was as much at fault for marrying my ex as he was for marrying me. I was just looking for anyone to love me because that had been so lacking in my life and he was looking for the same in a very different manner.
It is possible to forgive someone, meaning understanding why they did something to you, without condoning their actions. Giving absolution does not have to mean giving permission to them to do it again or saying it was okay in the first place. It just means you are letting go (some would say, letting God) and moving on.
Yesterday I learned the docs have started talking to my ex about hospice options. He has and still is fighting a better fight than I think I could if I was in his shoes. Heck, I whine about typing one-handed with one wing clipped and held up in a sling.
If any of this makes sense to you or resonates with a situation you may have then I ask that you offer a little prayer or whatever your preferred method is for him as he continues his journey on this difficult path that we will all find ourselves on in some way, someday.
It's now 6:30 a.m. and time for more pain meds (yeah!), almost time for the Today Show and breakfast. I wish a good day to you all.
Namaste,
Kathe
I got married in July 1971. Although the decision to do this wasn't a post 2:00 a.m. decision most indications would be that it was a bad one. It was an unhappy union, frequently abusive both mentally and emotionally and eventually devolved into a physically abusive one. I am going to spare you the gory details but I will tell you it involved a concussion on one occasion, at least two broken bones, guns on more than one occasion, and at one point being restrained and held hostage for several hours. Nuff said bout that.
It was a long, long time ago, I survived it and the marriage produced my two terrific kids both now grown and who have produced six grandchildren who are the light of my life.
I got divorced in July 1980 and my ex got remarried the same month to a woman who, God bless her for many reasons, he is still married to today. We'd been separated for two years before the divorce.
Time marches on. People grow, change, learn and move on and in general learn one way or another how to deal what life dishes out to them.
In July 2009 my ex was diagnosed with brain, lung, and liver cancer. Over the past nine months he has endured all the suffering that accompanies radiation and chemo therapies and a few side dishes like flesh eating bacterial infections to boot. This is where you might be tempted to think, "He deserves it", and this is where I say to you, not so fast.
My years of psychic work and learning about spirituality (as opposed to religion - big diff and the subject for a later post) have taught me a few things. First, we are all just a compilation of our own wounds and we are searching for a way to heal them. He didn't abuse me because he wanted to but because it was how he thought (erroneously) he could alleviate some of his pain, whatever that was and wherever that came from, and make himself feel better. Of course, it didn't work and he is responsible for his actions and has to answer for them in some place and time, somewhere, somehow, someday, in this world or another. While some think he owes me an apology, and maybe he does, the greater lesson here is to learn to forgive ourselves. So many times in trying to save ourselves or heal our wounds we try to do it by hurting or overpowering others. And that just doesn't work. What we do instead is create more pain for ourselves and often others and create for ourselves more karma.
I have a friend who thinks I should be nominated for sainthood for my ability to forgive him. (Well, maybe not sainthood, but something like that.) I have struggled with the essence of "forgiveness" for many years. Growing up Catholic I was taught you can do just about anything, go to confession on Saturday, say a few Hail Mary's in repentence, go to communion on Sunday, and start the whole process over again on Monday and St. Peter will welcome you with open arms when it's your turn to show up at the pearly gates.
I don't think it's that easy. I think we are all truly held accountable for what we do or don't do and I think there is a difference between forgiveness and absolution. It's easy for the priest to absolve you of your sins. All he does is assign a few minutes of homework of saying a few prayers. True forgiveness comes from within when we forgive ourselves and others.
In truth I was as much at fault for marrying my ex as he was for marrying me. I was just looking for anyone to love me because that had been so lacking in my life and he was looking for the same in a very different manner.
It is possible to forgive someone, meaning understanding why they did something to you, without condoning their actions. Giving absolution does not have to mean giving permission to them to do it again or saying it was okay in the first place. It just means you are letting go (some would say, letting God) and moving on.
Yesterday I learned the docs have started talking to my ex about hospice options. He has and still is fighting a better fight than I think I could if I was in his shoes. Heck, I whine about typing one-handed with one wing clipped and held up in a sling.
If any of this makes sense to you or resonates with a situation you may have then I ask that you offer a little prayer or whatever your preferred method is for him as he continues his journey on this difficult path that we will all find ourselves on in some way, someday.
It's now 6:30 a.m. and time for more pain meds (yeah!), almost time for the Today Show and breakfast. I wish a good day to you all.
Namaste,
Kathe
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Things I Thought I Knew
This title was suggested by my 14 yr old grandson for the blog title. I thought psychicsensibilities was cuter but I'm beginning to think he was right so I'm titling this post for him. Thanks, Chandler.
People will surprise you. I should know that at my age and in my line of work. I guess the Universe thought I needed a reminder.
Sometimes the people that appear the hardest on the outside are just protecting a big, loving heart on the inside. And sometimes, unfortunately, they are really that hard - but not always. For now I'm focusing on the former. And sometimes the people that talk the big loving-the-world talk are doing that - just talking, and hiding a heart the size of a pea on the inside. No offense meant to peas.
Many, many thanks to all those who have called and sent emails, texts, and cards wishing me well, sending healing and offering help. Some of you have surpised me and some of you have humbled me, but all of you have made me realize how fortunate I am to know you.
Blessings to you all,
Kathe
People will surprise you. I should know that at my age and in my line of work. I guess the Universe thought I needed a reminder.
Sometimes the people that appear the hardest on the outside are just protecting a big, loving heart on the inside. And sometimes, unfortunately, they are really that hard - but not always. For now I'm focusing on the former. And sometimes the people that talk the big loving-the-world talk are doing that - just talking, and hiding a heart the size of a pea on the inside. No offense meant to peas.
Many, many thanks to all those who have called and sent emails, texts, and cards wishing me well, sending healing and offering help. Some of you have surpised me and some of you have humbled me, but all of you have made me realize how fortunate I am to know you.
Blessings to you all,
Kathe
Monday, April 19, 2010
April 19, 2010
GOOD NEWS!!!! The CT scan showed I probably don't need surgery! That means recovery should be shorter. A big,big,big,big thank you to everyone who sent prayers and healing thoughts and good energy and please keep 'em coming. It ain't over yet but there is light on the horizon.
So what's all this mean? I heard Oprah say once that God sends us what we need to heal and I believe that. That's why children of alcoholics either grow up and become one or marry one. Which, by the way, I did. As a child of highly functional alcoholics I married one, and then divorced him. My intention here is not to rank on him. He's currently battling lung, liver, and brain cancer with more courage and tenacity than I think I could muster and I pray for him everyday. If you feel moved to do that too please do so.
But being born into a family that neither planned, wanted, nor welcomed me I incurred some lifelong trust issues, to put it mildly. I have been fiercely independent most of my life mainly because the people I looked to for support or help in my early life quite simply let me down and said,"no" even if all I asked for was a hug. As I have gotten older the thing I fear most is having to ask for help (a request which has historically been denied) or needing support (which usually didn't come). So here I sit typing in my son and daughter-in-law's bed, waiting for them to come home and cook for me, depending on my daughter or daughter-in-law to wash my hair, do my laundry, put on my socks, etc., etc., etc., and needing my son to drive to my house 20 miles away to feed my animals once a day (like he doesn't have enough to do already with a big job and 2 kids).
So, yup, Spirit sends us what we need to heal. I hope maybe that insight helps you in some way in your life.
BTW - here's a correction from the last post. I have been told the dog does NOT lick her privates at 3:00 a.m. - she is licking her leg. OK. It still sounds like a cat yackin' up a furball.
A new insight - I really like drinking out of bendy straws. They're fun. :o)
So what's all this mean? I heard Oprah say once that God sends us what we need to heal and I believe that. That's why children of alcoholics either grow up and become one or marry one. Which, by the way, I did. As a child of highly functional alcoholics I married one, and then divorced him. My intention here is not to rank on him. He's currently battling lung, liver, and brain cancer with more courage and tenacity than I think I could muster and I pray for him everyday. If you feel moved to do that too please do so.
But being born into a family that neither planned, wanted, nor welcomed me I incurred some lifelong trust issues, to put it mildly. I have been fiercely independent most of my life mainly because the people I looked to for support or help in my early life quite simply let me down and said,"no" even if all I asked for was a hug. As I have gotten older the thing I fear most is having to ask for help (a request which has historically been denied) or needing support (which usually didn't come). So here I sit typing in my son and daughter-in-law's bed, waiting for them to come home and cook for me, depending on my daughter or daughter-in-law to wash my hair, do my laundry, put on my socks, etc., etc., etc., and needing my son to drive to my house 20 miles away to feed my animals once a day (like he doesn't have enough to do already with a big job and 2 kids).
So, yup, Spirit sends us what we need to heal. I hope maybe that insight helps you in some way in your life.
BTW - here's a correction from the last post. I have been told the dog does NOT lick her privates at 3:00 a.m. - she is licking her leg. OK. It still sounds like a cat yackin' up a furball.
A new insight - I really like drinking out of bendy straws. They're fun. :o)
Sunday, April 18, 2010
April 18, 2010
Greeting earthlings and non-earthlings!
Welcome to my virgin post! I am new to this medium so please bear with me as I learn my way.
First, the reason for my venturing into this realm which I have until now found to be curiously self-indulgent and, well, slightly socially disturbing. On April 10, 2010 I fell at home and broke my left shoulder. This is particularly bad luck (if you believe in luck) since I'm lefthanded. So I'm typing one-handed with my right hand. Not so bad so far, eh? Technically, I've broken my arm, the humerus bone, in 2 places at the shoulder. BTW the humerus bone doesn't have a sense of humor. It does have a pretty good sense of pain though. I am currently awaiting test results to see if there is additional injury which would require surgery.
After a few days of panic because I'm fiercely independent (usually) and self-pity (which just bummed everyone out, including me) I decided to explore how this experience could have been designed by Spirit to teach me something. So I decided to start practicing what I preach, or at least try to. And then I thought since so many people have started asking me over the last year "what my story is" maybe some of you would like to take this journey with me. Maybe, we'll see...
BTW - I promise not to bore you with banal details like when I brush my teeth (like who cares?? except maybe my dentist) or when I change my socks - which I can't do for myself right now anyway. The good news is in the last 2 days I have been able to change my own underwear which is an improvement and makes everyone happy!
So here's what I've learned so far. My daughter-in-law is a very good cook. I like to read before bed and I read everything from Quantum Physics as it pertains to psychic ability to the Twilight saga - blame my daughter-in-law for that and Go Team Edward! But none of it beats having my 6 year old granddaughter read anything to me. And the sound of the family dog licking her private parts at 3:00 a.m. is the same sound as a cat hacking up a furball. Maybe the spiritual insights will come later. I hope you stay tuned ...
Welcome to my virgin post! I am new to this medium so please bear with me as I learn my way.
First, the reason for my venturing into this realm which I have until now found to be curiously self-indulgent and, well, slightly socially disturbing. On April 10, 2010 I fell at home and broke my left shoulder. This is particularly bad luck (if you believe in luck) since I'm lefthanded. So I'm typing one-handed with my right hand. Not so bad so far, eh? Technically, I've broken my arm, the humerus bone, in 2 places at the shoulder. BTW the humerus bone doesn't have a sense of humor. It does have a pretty good sense of pain though. I am currently awaiting test results to see if there is additional injury which would require surgery.
After a few days of panic because I'm fiercely independent (usually) and self-pity (which just bummed everyone out, including me) I decided to explore how this experience could have been designed by Spirit to teach me something. So I decided to start practicing what I preach, or at least try to. And then I thought since so many people have started asking me over the last year "what my story is" maybe some of you would like to take this journey with me. Maybe, we'll see...
BTW - I promise not to bore you with banal details like when I brush my teeth (like who cares?? except maybe my dentist) or when I change my socks - which I can't do for myself right now anyway. The good news is in the last 2 days I have been able to change my own underwear which is an improvement and makes everyone happy!
So here's what I've learned so far. My daughter-in-law is a very good cook. I like to read before bed and I read everything from Quantum Physics as it pertains to psychic ability to the Twilight saga - blame my daughter-in-law for that and Go Team Edward! But none of it beats having my 6 year old granddaughter read anything to me. And the sound of the family dog licking her private parts at 3:00 a.m. is the same sound as a cat hacking up a furball. Maybe the spiritual insights will come later. I hope you stay tuned ...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
