Curiouser and curiouser

“curiouser and curiouser” cried Alice…..

Do you categorize people? I do. Oh there are many ways to pigeonhole the persons you meet from taste in music, art, food, drinks, activities, books, the list is huge. But I find myself focusing on just a few major (to me) differences in the persons I meet and those differences “make all the difference”…….. 

What people talk about is important to me. I tend to divide people into two groups when listening to them speak. 

They are either materialist talkers or idea talkers. 

The material oriented will go on and on about their latest acquisition, describing same in great detail, be it a pair of shoes (find an excuse to disappear if you are trapped by one of these persons), a new car, a large screen television (the larger the screen, the more they will obsess over it), or even “this year’s spring fashion color”!

Unfortunately, most people fall into this category. 

Then there is that much smaller group of persons who talk about “ideas”. While discussions with these persons can be of many, many new and different ideas, they are interesting and draw one in, to fascinate, to create questions that need to be – no, MUST be answered, no matter the time, research, or energy expended in grappling with the details. And while these conversations (and sometimes lovely outright arguments) can cause confusion, sleepless nights and even new directions, they are the ones that make differences in our lives-that make us grow into more complicated beings, that send us down new and different paths of discovery. 

As Robert Frost wrote, “Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

These idea people are not just intelligent. There are many people capable of understanding the complex who simply do not apply their ability for abstract thought and find it easier to mix in with that first group of concrete thinkers. But idea people sometimes also have great curiosity – a need to know, to figure it all out. It is that curiosity, that need to know, that makes them so attractive, so interesting. Further, these are the same people who will take their ideas with them, actually applying them, sometimes exhausting themselves, while making for a much more interesting world. These persons think beyond the abstract. They inspire. 

The lesson? At the next cocktail (or some such) party you “must” attend, look for the person who either appears completely indifferent to the environment, or the one fiercely arguing a point, and join in THEIR conversation. 

And if no such person exists, check the wine for a good one and get totally zonked.


“The middle of the road is where the white line is – and that’s the worst
place to drive.” Robert Frost

Much as it pains me, I have to admit- I AM A BACKSEAT DRIVER.

Some who CLAIM to be my friends insist that I am an “ANY SEAT DRIVER” and would likely bellow driving instructions even if locked in the trunk.
They are cruel and should learn how to use the ‘brake’ so that I would not
have to yell that word out every twenty seconds or so. And I hear no
complaints from them when Lady Google (perhaps as part of the
government’s depopulation plan) tells the driver to “make a left turn”
where there is no road……

I have no patience for shopping and except to volunteer with animal
rescue, work mostly from the house and rarely leave. So when I do go foran infrequent drive, I prefer that the car be driven slowly (and in the
right lane) so I can view the (often) lovely world outside (and silently
read every insignificant sign posted along the road- something only other
reading addicts understand). My husband, however, likes to drive in the
left lane and pass everything in front of him on the road, using the
excuse that he can see what is ahead better if he passes anything in the
way. He says this with a straight face.

So the other day, when we roadtripped up New York State to visit a
friend, the usual arguments ensued and I demanded that he !#?&%! slowdown. He pretended to do that (actually believing that I would not notice the speed had not changed), and then informed me that some beings
were jogging along the roadside and they were passing us because we
were going so slowly. For the record, I did not see any joggers and I
believe that he was lying.

This man also cannot drive a straight line (likely the result of his
activities in the 60s). He drives along, touching the painted line on one
side of the lane and then swerving to touch the other. Since these lines
have been finished with “rumble strips”, and make a grinding noise when
crossed, he can no longer deny that he does this. I have told him that
driving too fast AND making S shapes along the road lanes, will likely
get him stopped by the police and, further, I will be called on as their
witness. He responds that in this State one spouse cannot be forced to
testify against another. I have responded that I will VOLUNTARILY turn
State’s Evidence unless he slows down. He finds that very, very funny.

I have also warned him that, if frightened enough, my bladder might go
into a spasm and I might accidentally urinate in his BMW. He does not
find that funny.

So I believe that any instructions I give to him as driver are justified and
necessary. As for being a back seat driver?? I do NOT apologize…..



up and down and sideways…

“In commitment we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.”
— Lord Byron

There is that theory of parallel universes- that there are many, many
timelines running alongside of ours and we exist in many or in all of these
in perhaps a similar fashion or a totally different fashion than we do here.
Our choices, our emotions or our experiences allow us to remain in only one timeline or in many or to move about, jumping from one to another, all the while unaware of any change. Sideways movement……

There is also that claim that we are moved upwards and downwards
within dimensions, according to the frequency level we maintain. There are no solids – all is energy – millions of types of energies, each defined by its
own frequency. And we are, each of us, a symphony of those frequencies,
inhabiting dimensions that match our frequency level. To change levels, we
must change our thoughts, our behavior, and even take care to avoid those
‘morally impaired’, who have little integrity or concern for others and who
can lower our numbers and/or pull from our energies just by being nearby.
Thus, our ‘self symphony’ changes as our ‘numbers’ go up and down.

It is also said, by many studying frequency levels, that much of mankind and the earth, itself, are about to move up through the narrow Fourth and into the Fifth Dimension. And it is said that this cannot happen until all of
those third dimensional parallel lines have joined as one and that most of
them have already morphed together. Thus we experience the so-called
“Mandela Effect”, wherein persons experiencing the “now” here, remember
slightly different or somewhat different pasts from other parallel lines.

If you remain alert and aware, you will realize those changes as you jump
from one timeline to another, and recognize the move. Sometimes the changes are subtle- something that sat on the fireplace mantel for years is missing- and no one grasps that but you. A building exists along a roadway where yesterday, there was open field. A celebrity who you remembered as dead is still performing and very much alive. And the closer we get to the closure into the one timeline, the more we will experience these jumps – the more our mental, physical and emotional selves will be affected – so much

“A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities” –J.R.R. Tolkien

I have one such dream – I believe it takes place in the 1600s, somewhere
along the mid-Atlantic shore. My name is Kate but it is pronounced “Ket”
by all in the very small town of mostly fishermen. An odd sort of English
is spoken. I am about 17 years old and a “friend” kidnaps me and sells me
to some pirates. There were many such travelling the Atlantic coastline in
those days. I am horribly abused by all on board and finally manage to take
my own life, brokenhearted that my loved ones know nothing of what happened to me and that I will never see them again. The boat? I seem to recall the name as The Lady Dragon or the Dragon Lady or some such. I can feel the motion of the boat and I can smell the filth on board along with the salt air and actually feel somewhat seasick when I think of it, which is ironic because in this life, I grew up near the ocean and love the smell of salt air. But if I so much as think of the dream, I break into tears and feel
horribly sick. I have left out the details- they are not pleasant. This
dream has been visiting me several times a year for the last few years. I
would love closure- but have not achieved same. The dream just butts in,
as it chooses. Is this a dream? Or was it a past life or a life in a
parallel timeline, or (worse) both? It does not feel at all like the
usual dream. It actually feels as though I have physically passed through
a wall into another reality– and I am there as part of that reality. I
have to be careful not to consciously, deliberately think of it, or I
find myself crossing through that ‘wall’ and experiencing the trauma all
over again. I suspect that with those parallel timelines becoming one,
that there are many having such dreams and bringing those parts of
themselves into this time and place.

Then there are the “ties”- the things that unite the various experiences
which we have together. While we experience them, they appear unrelated,
but looking back over time, they make sense as an actually linked series
of events, one connecting with the next until the information, the
lesson, is learned. Is this by plan? Whose? Are there really ‘no
mistakes’?? Is all experience really by intent? Do we draw all of our
lifetime events to us through deliberation, lack of focus or just
perhaps simple stupidity?

Some of these “ties” are not experiences but actual “things”. Some item may
manifest lifetime after lifetime or in several parallel timelines, over and
over again. Likely it has some special significance, if only you recognize
it. If we are the creators in this alleged hologram we share, we are likely
to bring similar items, experiences into all areas of our existence. The
love of purple plants in one lifetime may transform into a purple painted
room in another time. A similar cologne scent may be appreciated in
several lifetimes. A talent may be experienced in parallel realities and
developed taste in one existence may have evolved from another.

“But don’t you see that the whole trouble lies here? In words, words. Each
one of us has within him a whole world of things, each man of us his own
special world. And how can we ever come to an understanding if I put in the words I utter the sense and value of things as I see them; while you who
listen to me must inevitably translate them according to the conception of
things each one of you has within himself. We think we understand each
other, but we never really do.”
― Luigi Pirandello, Six Characters In Search of an Author

Pirandello was a prolific Italian author and playwright whose writings were
laced with psychological meaning. He believed that each of us is actually a
distinct being according to whoever we are present with at any specific
time and he believed that, of those relating to us, since each sees us very
differently – we are a different being to each. So who are we? What we
think we are? Or what we are to others? Certainly, we are likely more
complex than we realize…….

Each of us has evolved according to events affecting our
development via those parallel timelines (past and present), our
dimensional levels, our current lives, our past lives and even our cellular
ancestral memories — a lot of luggage to drag with us on that climb upward
to the Fifth – a lot of mental/emotional clutter to sort through and make
sense over. And where to begin? I presume with the loudest, the most
difficult since their removal should make the rest of that suitcase lighter
and easier to manage. So consider the ideas, the religions, the beliefs,
the dreams, the convictions, the habits and start making choices among
them– that spiral up to the Fifth is said to be close at hand.




“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in
your philosophy.” –Hamlet to Horatio

I descend from a lot of those “bloodline” families (from some many, many
times), who wound up ruling over and living in France, England, and Scotland. Ultimately, the younger sons from these families, those who would not inherit, came here to New England in the 1600s. One distant cousin was
thrown out of the Massachusetts Bay Colony for “ogling women at Sunday
Service”, but two other close cousins, both named John, left the MBC
and settled in Rhode Island with Roger Williams. One, my 8th great
grandfather, was John Greene of Quidnessett, Newport and Greene’s End.

Throughout earlier centuries, there were many younger sons. Some became
Crusaders and later on, Templars. Ancestor Alan de La Zouche was a
benefactor of the Knights Templars, to whom he gave lands at Sibford,
and to the Belmeis family foundation of Buildwas Abbey. So I have always
been curious about the Templars, their strange religious beliefs and their
very strange habits and traditions.

I am also a “reader”. Many women collect shoes and jewelry ad nauseum but I collect books- thousands of books. Some would consider me a book hoarder, but I don’t just collect any book- my books are collected specifically and all are somewhat organized. I cannot stop this sort of collecting. I read
anything readable that is put in front of my face. So in my teens, at my
grandmother’s where the only things to read were ‘Reader’s Digests’, I came
across ‘that article’ on Oak Island. I still have it. Anything written about
a place loaded with that much mystery, where Templars may have trekked,
mustn’t be thrown out!

Thus, when the History Channel began showing “The Curse of Oak Island”, I
became a fan. But I saw problems from the beginning……..

“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain
itself.” –Charles Dickens

I have an unusual ability. I see/feel and occasionally communicate with
Ghosts. I have sometimes been asked to get them to leave a place they are
inhabiting – Ghosts are usually very nice about this. And since Ghosts often
use electrical energies to make their presence known, I can sometimes ‘feel’
them through a television. Oak Island is loaded with both Ghosts and several Demons, and this is one of the reasons that the group working there have had so much trouble achieving their goals.

Many Ghosts are unaware that they have passed. A really good medium (such as England’s Eamonn Downey) could probably get information from them that would be helpful to the Oak Island “Gang’s” activities, especially from those who have died while working on the island, either hiding or searching for treasure.

But Demons are a different sort of entity. They can and do wreak harm and
havoc. I suspect they have done much to hold the Oak Island Gang back. You must make them feel that it is to their advantage to leave you alone-
but this can take time which they usually do not allow. An exorcist
often is needed to deal with them.

Apparently, the Oak Island “Gang” are aware of the paranormal events that
take place. But they obviously do not know how to handle them. I believe
it was Nolan who spoke of a huge fireball floating from the ocean over to
the island where it disappeared (for the record, I saw that as coming
from another timeline and then disappearing back into itself). There has
been talk of a snarling dog with fire red eyes, a hairy monster also
sporting those nasty eyes and a floating black mass that appears to
threaten and then dissipates. I dealt with a mass like that once- my
oversized lab was terrified, but I knew I had to control my own fear
if I were to eject it. It took a full five minutes of serious focus
to nullify the “thing”, much longer than casting out a simple ghost.

The Oak Islanders also speak of spooky lights (entities) and
equipment that suddenly won’t work (common in hauntings). In one of
the shows, Matty (their producer?) appeared to feign fear (at least
I hope he was faking it because he appeared quite silly overreacting
to so little activity) while investigating several high energy places.
And Matty, you should ask the same question several times and leave
more than the few seconds you did, for reply. The Paranormal Society
brought in was just too large (too great a mix of frequencies) to get
clear answers.

“Old habits die hard.” –Anonymous

Then there is that second problem the “Gang” face. I apologize (not
really!) for sounding like a female chauvinist here, but all political
correctness aside (as it always should be), I believe that there are
a great many differences between the sexes. One difference is that
males cannot, cannot find things. Women can.

If I ask a male to bring me the bar of soap that is in the cabinet
underneath the kitchen sink, he will politely go to the sink, bend
down, open the cabinet doors, stare at the soap and NOT SEE IT. A
female asked to do the same thing will go to the sink, bend down, open
the cabinet doors, reach in and bring out the soap, with barely a glance
downward. I believe this is caused by a difference in male/female
genetics – some little part missing in the male brain. If you have
doubts, do the experiment yourselves. Odds-on, women will testify
in agreement with me. Men, in setting such an experiment up, will likely
forget to place the soap in the cabinet…..

So when I watched the show and saw yards of assorted “stuff” (mostly dirt)
being dumped on a large screened table where it was washed over with water to clean away much of that dirt, AND THEN when I watched 3 or 4 MEN going through the remains to search out anything of importance, I was stunned! MEN were doing the searching —MALE MEN! Put a couple of women there and they will find double, no — triple — no (let’s face truth here) MUCH, MUCH more than those men will ever find. I suspect there are local women who could be hired and if they have gardens and love to get their hands in muck — well they will likely shame the “Gang”.

So while I wish the Gang the best of luck in their efforts, I expect to see
another season of delays and mixed results, as the island Demons dream up new blockages for the Gang to surmount and as these Demons entertain themselves roaring in laughter over those efforts which result in frustration and setbacks. And the Ghosts? They will no doubt sigh in exasperation and wonder why these men simply CANNOT FIND what these Ghosts likely consider obvious.



It’s All About the Shoes…..

“The time has come,” the walrus said, “to talk of many things: of SHOES and
ships – and sealing wax – of cabbages and kings….

A shoe commercial just informed me that “I can never have too many shoes.” I find this odd. I mean, how many shoes can one wear at one time? I can only wear two, i.e. one pair. This is because I only have two feet. Perhaps if I had more feet, I would better understand the need for so many shoes.

Actually, I do own about a dozen pairs of shoes, most of which are collecting
dust. I like comfortable flat shoes, loafers and sneakers and tend to ignore
all other types of foot decor. And I never, ever even notice what other
people are wearing on their feet. Perhaps this is because I do not look 
downward when chatting with a person. I tend to notice the other being’s 
face and I rarely can remember details about anything that person is 
wearing, especially his or her shoes. I assume that person likewise, is 
unconcerned with my fashion choices. So when the announcer in the television commercial warns me that “I can never have too many shoes”, I am perplexed. 

I have, on the rare occasion that I walk through a clothing store, noticed
how the style of shoes has changed dramatically over the years. No longer
something worn for comfort and to protect the feet from the elements, shoes are now in contest to see which pair sings the loudest color and wields the (ouch!) highest heel. I am reminded of the shoes worn in medieval times with very high very thick heels meant to protect the wearer from the mud in the streets. Today’s shoes are not meant to be worn anywhere near mud. These are covered with rhinestones and bangles and are meant by those wearing same, to be NOTICED! Oh, I am so lame…….

And I wonder where this love for shoes was born? There is the childrens’
fantasy, “Cinderella” wherein the prize rests upon the fit of a glass shoe.
When I read that, as a child, I wondered, “what if some old lady has a small
foot that could fit into that shoe and she beats Cinderella to trying it on?
Would the prince have to marry her?” What would Disney have done with that??  The Cinderella slipper was simple looking with a slight heel and a rounded toe, unlike the pointed, pointed, pointed shoes we see today. If Cinderella’s stepsisters had trouble pushing their feet into an undersized but comfortably shaped shoe, however would they have managed with a shoe intended to force the foot into an unnatural shape? All that pain just for a Prince??? No, Cinderella’s shoe had to be relatively comfortable, or there would have been no ‘happily ever after’. 

I think about those people who actually do remember what shoes the people they meet are wearing and I wonder if, inside their brains, there are 
hundreds of tiny shoe racks, each labelled with some designer name with 
shoes stored by size, color and design. Do they dream about these shoes? 
Do they seek them out at sales? Do they hang them on the wall? Do 
they worship at shoe shrines? 

My feet are hurting just thinking about all this………


“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in
your philosophy.”
–Hamlet to Horatio

So there we were, about 6 of us, drinking wine (my favorite food group) and
discussing “reality”, and it got nasty (meaning interesting) and we DID agree
that the word ‘reality’ could not be used since we could not agree on its
meaning, and so we switched the focus to existence and we DID AGREE that
everything in existence consists of energy- there are no solids and names
were referenced (Cayce, Carroll, Edwards, Plato, Pythagoras…).
Philosophers write ABOUT existence – its symptoms- which don’t actually
precisely define just what it is.

While we did agree that this apparent space, this ether?, or perhaps
this emptiness we inhabit is likely a hologram, we could not agree on its
nature or its genesis and we argued the God stuff, some string theory and
the latest explanation for what is– that we are actually a computer
program (but whose?), wherein we agreed that the programmer was likely a sadist and then there is that specific use of binary code, recently
discovered, which allegedly is the ‘creation code for the human lifeform”
or some such, and someone who was not taking this seriously, referred to the Monty Python movie on “The Meaning of Life” and got dirty looks all around.

I, of course, brought up the brilliant work of Sharry Edwards, but while her
work with frequency further demonstrates the mental, the physical and the
emotional, it does not explain consciousness and just how those energies
germinated. Various metaphysical teachers explain that we, ourselves, are the “Gods” creating all, but if true, we are dumb-ass Gods, still ignorant about just how we managed ‘that` beginning’ – where did we get such power?

There were references to wormholes, and dark matter and and even dimensions and parallel timelines (not relevant here), and recognizing that we had achieved absolutely NO success in figuring it ALL out, I started thinking of literature and Lewis Carroll and his Looking Glass ‘reality’ (that word again) and so when everyone tired and went on to mess with some other subject,

I wrote the following poem–


Through the Looking Glass

all is light

but lacking sound-

the colors, they intoxicate

and coat the mind-

as if to bind…

but screeching owls

and clucking fowls

do not exist

and thunder never roars here

where all is by design.

no breathing child,

or gust of wild

to mar the still.

and nothing grows

and nothing knows

where there’s no will.

We wander through………


What the Wherefore…

My childhood was lived across the street from a lake.  I loved the lake. I enjoyed stretching out on my belly, wet sand sticking to  my clothes and arms as I stared into the water’s edge. It was a large lake, and rather shallow,  though during those early years, I assumed that it had great depth and held many secrets. Staring at that water, the rounded stones rippling beneath the surface, the bits of greenery, always put me in an altered state, a meditative state. There was a tree on the property at the edge of the lake that had split into three large branches just a foot above its roots and that space between the branches provided an ideal “seat” to further my studies. There were lily pads and tadpoles and buzzing insects and I considered all to be quite amazing. Oh, I had been told the “God stories”, the Heaven and Hell stories and I pretty much accepted them- well sort of. You see, when you start looking around you at those marvels all around you, at the immensity of all that is, you can either shake your head and focus elsewhere, or you can continue to muddle over the big questions of why? where? how?  no REALLY,  how did it all begin? And you find yourself thinking backwards and  looking for that spark that produced the material and then getting lost in the question of that very spark’s origins. WE HAVE CONSCIOUSNESS. WE THINK. WE EXPERIENCE.  And I would stare at the lily pads and wonder how it all began – how all this could possibly “BE”.    -Mme DeFarge


Madame Defarge Returns

“It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times,
it was the age of wisdom,
it was the age of foolishness,
it was the epoch of belief,
it was the epoch of incredulity,
it was the season of Light,
it was the season of Darkness,
it was the spring of hope,
it was the winter of despair… ”

A Tale of Two Cities (1859) – Charles Dickens

knit 1, purl 1 …..

We are living in interesting times.

Mme. Defarge