I don’t know how to get my notifications from the diaries I enjoy reading.  I tried to use the HELP feature and totally got confused.  I guess the procedure is a wee bit to difficult for my brain to comprehend.  UGH.

Wow, ever since DD has moved here, I have been overwhelmed with spam email and fake replies.  I just received an email telling me that what I posted was exactly what they were seeking.  I didn’t realize the person was searching for annoying family members and a bitching female on complain mode.  Many blessings to them, and I hope the get what they seek.  Hehe

Well, we are up and at ‘em! The husband has mowed the lawn for the last time of the season. He was beaming about the fact that he accomplished this feat with only one tank of gas. (I think he took a short cut, but I can’t comment because it would let the hot air out of his balloon.)

Last night we celebrated my stepfather and grandfather’s birthday. The apartment that my grandparents live in is small, so 15 of us and one akita puppy made my claustrophobia kick in overdrive. My grandparents didn’t want the annual dinner at a restaurant, so we had pizza there. The puppy was in overdrive and leaking pee from all the excitement. Their apartment now smells like puppy. My grandfather made out like a bandit on scratch lottery tickets. He actually scored a profit. I guess this is his lucky year, pretty good for turning 93.

My brother announced in private to me of what he wants to inherit from the grandparents. The bronze statue of my great grandfather, the Burgemeester. (Burgemeester in Dutch: a party-political post, though formally nominated by the regional government and answerable to it, the federal state and even the province and in The Netherlands nominated by the municipal council but appointed by the crown. In theory above the parties, in practice a high profile party-political post.) Three were created and given to my great aunt, great uncle and my grandfather to commemorate their father’s service. A statue of him resides in Schiermonnikoog, Netherlands. {(16 juli 1906 – 28 juli 1943 Hendrik Willem van den Berg (tijdens bombardement op 28.07.1943 samen met echgenote Jacoba Abramina Zeilinga omgekomen) http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lijst_van_burgemeesters_van_Schiermonnikoog. }

Anyway, of course my brother has to claim the one thing that the three sisters will fight over. I just desire a painting that was done by a neighbor for my grandfather. It has no real value, was done out of sentimental reasons for my grandfather by his old neighbor and no one is interested in it. I tried to explain to brother that he was pissing against the wind with this major request. That item will cause a blood bath, but he is standing firm in his want, let alone, feels entitled to it. Let the fireworks begin.

So, while he was chanting about his wants and entitlements, I got to hear him slip that nephew is a transvestite. So, I asked him if the kid is failing gym class because he is embarrassed to show off his sexy underwear in the locker room. Talk about dirty looks….hehehehe.

This was my evening, enough coffee to kill a horse, scratch marks from a 12 week old puppy rough playing and a sample of cardboard with Hunts Ketchup (aka: pizza) sitting like lead in my stomach. I am still burping that thing up.

Nighty Night with marshmallow men running amok.

Hey, it is late and I need to crash, just wanted to post something quickly before my head hit the pillow. Please forgive for sentence structure mistakes and grammar abuse. I can adjust/make amends later…plus that Fate Magazine number.

Everyone has their opinions about aliens, and like assholes, we all have one but who needs another one? Well, I guess I do.

While working on information for the radio show, I had the privilege of receiving some claims about proposed alien visitation occurring October 14,2008. Here is the claim:

October 14, 2008- Alien Visitation
According to ‘Direct Voice Channelling Medium’ Blossom Goodchild, On October 14, 2008, a large alien craft will appear in our skies over the southern hemisphere for a period of 3 days. Goodchild calls these cosmic beings The Federation of Light and has stated that “that they come in LOVE to help us and our planet move to a new Higher Vibration of Love.”

Read Message from The Federation of Light

A believer in UFOs and life elsewhere in the universe, I am skeptical of this date. I am interested in seeing if anything actually materializes-but I am guessing that all we’ll get is one heck of a stiff neck. What do you all think?

***Now, what if this proposed visitation is to come? That the year was just screwed up? Let’s face it, who can arrive at a party on time? I for one am always late. (At least I showed up….)

Lately, China has had a series of alien issues to the point of shutting down an airport the other day. Arizona is a ufo hotbed, to the point that the ex-governor, after leaving office, recanted his claims that the ufos were not real. New Jersey (Carteret/Port Reading) had ufo sightings right before 9/11 and the ships headed for NYC, traveling up the Jersey Turnpike. Fate magazine had a whole story written up about it. I will go through my old Fate magazines and post the magazine date for reference later.

I had my own ufo experience in 1975 while living in Port Reading, NJ. It was dusk and this silver diamond just coasted across the sky towards the Hess refinery. I remember saying to myself as a 6 yr old child that something wasn’t right about that thing in the sky. I climbed up on top of some neighbor’s swing set, just to watch it. Many years later I met another woman (Donna Soto) who described the same sighting, the same year, from the town of Carteret, NJ from a baseball little league game which was playing right before dark. (These two towns sit right next to one another.)

So, what I would have to say about the world wide experiences of ufos (unidentified flying objects) are real. What is the true identity of these mystery ships is yet to be solved, but we as a whole must start with agreeing that they are real and moving forward.

I just keep thinking to myself a simple old saying that was popular during Christopher Columbus’s time frame: If you sail to the edge of the Earth, you will fall off. The average person believed that the Earth was flat and that the sun revolved around the planet. If you really think we are the ONLY planet in the universe with intelligent life, then maybe you’re mentally living in the past.

I believe that one day, we will joke how silly humans were and how self absorbed it was to truly think that we were the only intelligent creatures in the universe.

Here Peggy is my stand on the possibility of aliens. Thanks for the concept of this post!

With so many stories stored up inside my head, sometimes I become a bit overwhelmed and stare at a blank computer screen. I just don’t know where to start or where to end. Kinda like all my art projects, a wee bit here and a wee bit there.

I have ghost stories to write about in regards to Lily Dale, NY. I had a unique experience with a camera. I have to post the story of Hope and Faith, my two lovely cement statues outside of St. Edmunds Cemetary in Ellenburg, NY. and who these lovely ladies introduced me to. I have a family story about healing and centres around a stigmata inflicted young girl who goes by the name “Little Rose”. I have to get my mother to actually sit down and let me write her near death experience when giving birth to my brother in 1972. The list goes on and on. LOL There is also the story about the time I made a spirit communicate at some stranger’s apartment and destroy a mirror table with a giant crack traveling the lenght of the table to end with the point of the crack infront of me. (The odd part of that story was that the person who rented that apartment confessed that the last tenant was killed in a motorcycle crash.)

So many stories, and so little time.

Anyhow, I have returned to DD and will give more focus to updating and staying in contact with you wonderful people. Thanks for the patience!

Light and Love, Jennifer

I grew up in an old Victorian farmhouse in the heart of the Adirondacks. I lived there on and off for over 13 years. This house was in my family for over 30 years. My mother purchased the house from my grandparents when I was 13. I lived there steady for over 3 years. I used to stay with my grandparents for months at a time while growing up. I remember, as a child, wondering, when the summertime arrived, which room would I be staying in. I would call them “good rooms” and “bad rooms”. I loved the house but I knew that there was more there than what met the eye.

When my mother moved us into the house, my brother and I were in our early teen years and just about to deal with our parents divorce. That was the purpose of the move, so my mother could leave my father. With this emotional trauma entering our lives, the ghosts fed off this energy and decided to have a field day. My brother hated the house and when alone he would leave on every light in every room. He hated the sounds and the vibes. I, on the other hand, left the house dark and hung out in my bedroom with the stereo cranked. My mother’s “LAW” was that we were not allowed to talk about the ghosts while we lived there.

I used to have terror dreams at night. Blood, gore and intense violence would permeate my dreams. I am not one for horror flicks ever, but my dreams with that house were on that level of violence. I have awoken many a night in cold sweats and screaming. My mood swings were vicious. I hated everything and wished to die. Depression is the key to spirit activity and communication. I had discovered that they communicate through emotions and they were speaking to me. This is why an individual “feels” them. The house had cold spots and the attic was too emotionally intense to trespass. I used to apologize before entering the attic to retrieve some trivial item left in storage. My brother used to beg me to go up there with him when he had to go up there. I slept under the main portion of the attic and would hear footsteps above me at night. The funny thing about the attic is that it had a locking doorknob. I have now since found out that in the early 1900′s, people in this area of the deep woods used to lock up mentally ill family members in their attics as a way to contain them. The person would either die of old age or abuse, (sexual, physical, neglect, let’s not forget mental as well). This reality was very common with these victims and often the real result of their lives ending. This would leave intense feelings left etched into the home long after the person or people died. Because some mental illnesses are genetic, often one would have both the abuser and the victims being closely related and living under the same roof.

My home was a boarding house in it’s earlier years. My grandmother purchased the house from a man (Mr. Lewis) who inherited it from two spinster aunts after the returning from the war (WW2). We have photographs of the house back in the 1800′s. We had figured out the age of the place as being closer to 200 years old. This house is located in the Northern part of the Adirondack Park (NY, USA) and it is literally surrounded by mountains. There is a river across the street called the Au Sable River. Because of this beautiful scenery, my grandmother turned it back into a bed and breakfast for a brief time in the 70′s and early 80′s and to capitalize on the 1980 Olympics in Lake Placid, NY. When my mother bought the house she turned it into our family home to raise a new family there with her new husband and his children. The house had two ghosts that we knew of positively. I went into a trance one night chatting with a friend and they gave their names as Joshua and Jessie; one male and one female spirit. Many days later while chatting about our haunting with family, this friend brought this conversation up and how I went “weird” on him. (The female did make a physical materialization for me on one occasion by walking through my door and up to my closet, which then the stereo record player jumped across the record. Otherwise, most of the time their game was to terrorize the hell out of the people in the house by making loud noises, horror dreams, and hiding personal items or sharp knives. My mother used to scream at us that we were supplying a person for a new home with all the household items that was missing. Knives, towels, silverware, spoons, sheets, money and jewelry were often the target of these spirits. Sometimes we would find the missing items, but more often we would not.

I wanted to give a brief history before I describe into detail the scenarios of their games. One night while my grandmother was on holiday, my aunt was alone in the house. That night the ghosts attacked and gave a startling presentation of their behavior and personality. She claims that she heard major banging in the back of the house, almost like a bear throwing propane tanks against the house. The banging continued to get louder until she saw a black figure float down the stairs toward her. She yelled some profanity at it and grabbed a bottle of vodka and proceeded to drink herself into oblivion thinking this would solve the problem. The next morning after she complained about the ghosts to my mother on the phone, she hung up and went into the backyard to see the damage; everything was in it’s place and nothing was even scratched. The propane tanks were even in their place like the event from the night before was just a play of one’s imagination.

Another story of this house, when my grandparents bought the place my grandfather went about repairing it. The house was in poor shape and he was painting. Out of the blue, something pushed the ladder while he was on it. He fell to the ground, luckily he wasn’t hurt. Many years later my grandmother was talking to me about the house, she said that the noise in the attic was so loud at night that it would wake her up. She said that she used to yell up to the squirrels (in combat boots) to “shut their mouths” and the noise would stop. She is and has always been a disbeliever of the spirits in spite of the heavy activity. She is from Holland and english is her second (maybe fourth or fifth) language. I didn’t have the heart to inform her that 1st) squirrels are not nocturnal, 2nd) squirrels don’t understand dutch broken english, and 3) if it was an animal, that they wouldn’t have stopped making noise because she commanded it.

My mother was in bed one evening and she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She figured it must be one of us kids had returned home that evening and on our way to bed. She heard the footsteps stop at her door and then witnessed the doorknob turn back and forth, repeat, back and forth; but nothing opened the door or came into the room. She finally got out of her bed, ready to rip to shreds the person behind the door, for playing around; she threw the door open and surprised herself, there was no one there. Imagine her surprise to find that the only other person besides herself home that evening was her sleeping husband (who was laying right next to her at the moment of the incident).

Another classic example of the spirits being active was when my step-sister got up in the morning and found water in the Hotshot, all set up waiting for her. (A Hotshot is a machine that heats water for a cup of tea, etc one cup at a time). Because of the age of the house and the poor electrical set-up, it was family law to not leave things plugged-in to prevent an electrical fire. Well, this was not only filled with water, but it was plugged in and pulled out for her in the morning.

When I got older, I went to bed and asked the universe why I was afraid of those spirits, what did they do to me. I had a memory return in the form of a dream with me being in bed as a little child and them dancing all over me. Most of the time I sleep so deep that I literally black out, but on rare occasions I can get answers to questions I ask before closing my eyes. The extreme attack on my psyche as a child caused me to forget many of my experiences there. I used to hear the noises, the footsteps up and down the halls, black shapes roaming the house, terror dreams: of murder (normally with me as a witness), people coming after me in my dreams, and personal possessions vanishing were common happenings. The spirit manifestation in my bedroom, noises in the backyard and many other things were a daily event for all of us. The most common way for spirits to get my attention was through my emotions which swung like a pendulum. As for spirit photography, our photos always had orbs or white streaks. We thought that our film was old or that our lighting was poor in the room. We weren’t educated on spirit photography.

The house was finally and questionably sold to an odd fellow and his wife. The issue of ownership was a problem, and has stayed that way to present day. This man was a Vietnam vet and went insane at the beginning of winter. He went after his wife and tried to kill her with a shotgun. He ran out of the house screaming causing the neighbors up the road to call emergency services. Police, ambulance, and firemen were summoned to the house. The wife disappeared shortly after that………? This man started tearing down the walls and destroying the house inside, then out. After he moved out, the house went into foreclosure due to illegal loans he took out against the property.

My husband and I came back to the area around that time. We went to the realtor to see about buying the place. We were going to turn it into a haunted bed and breakfast, as well as make it our home. While touring the inside and evaluating the damage, the house started taking on the scent of when my family used to live there, almost to the point of like we never left. Despite bags of garbage, walls and floors ripped up, dead animals all over the place, the scent returned. The evidence of the heavy destruction exposed how he lost his mind while living there alone. One time my brother came to visit him to see if he was alright while living alone there. The man attacked him in the driveway with a gun, hitting him in the face with the blunt end. The man was screaming that it was his house and that no one was taking it away from him or chasing him from the house.

When I was touring the house I went into the backyard and saw a new ghost. A beautiful blond woman stood in front of me where the garden once grew. I knew that she was a new spirit and I also had the feeling that she met a quick death. I don’t know exactly what happened to her or what “that man” did (I know his name but for my protection I will keep it to myself) but I have a feeling there may be evidence in that garden bed.

I went home afterward the tour of the house and property. I mediated and thought long and hard about whether to buy the house or not. I started having pleasant dreams about me living in there. I talked to a few psychic friends of mine about the possible purchase. They brought up an interesting idea: I may be able to live with the ghosts but what would they do to my husband. I decided that it wasn’t worth hurting anyone and called the Realtor to cancel the whole thing. After that night I started having the nightmares again about being in the house. I had a man chase me with an axe in a dream claiming to be my grandmother’s illegitimate son and that it is his house. (My grandmother never had any male children, just 3 daughters.) I ran up the road to get away from him (the funny part about the beginning of the dream is that a Realtor showed me around the house like I never canceled the sale). I had another dream of being attacked a few nights later. I had to have a spirit cleansing done to remove the strings of attachment that the spirits entangled me with by withdrawing the sale (since the clearing, the dreams about the house ended).

Finally, a man, who served time for child rape, purchased the house. He too, started ripping the walls apart. (During the depression, people hid money and family jewels in the walls.) He trashed the place even worse then the prior tenant (unbelievable that there could be any more further damage even possible). After this, another good couple moved in, with hopes and dreams of fixing it up, on a land contract. This couple also have had experiences with the ghosts talking about both good and bad spirits. After investing much money, the man (at the beginning of this paragraph) cheated them and sold it to another person, right out from beneath them. The bank eventually ended up foreclosing and selling it to a person out of state. This person hired some unsavory characters who stripped the house bare and sell the pieces. What is left is an empty shell of a house. There are no windows, no doors, no floors, no stairs, but just wood boards and dust.

I truly believe that the spirits in this house didn’t want to continue living with other breathing humans. The spirits drove the occupants insane with dreams of fortune, causing the tenants to destroy the house down to the bare frame (think of gold fever). Depression runs high with this house and that the spirits are not at peace, and don’t have a desire to move on. I think the spirits have succeeded with their goals because they are now free of all human interaction (at least, from now until the end of time).

Ok, a quick reference for those of you who are seeking some holiday spook stories to enchant the autumn season. I am listing the various topics and dates for fast reading.

Angels: August 24, 2003

Ghosts: October 5,2003
December 26, 2003
March 17,2004
July 18,2004
August 3,2004

Every once in a while I will further update this to keep my favorite topics together.

This may offend, but…When my mother was brought to this country from Holland, she was forced to give up her true language and adapt to the “New Country”. My grandparents and mother had to have a sponsor, earn their green card and citizenship. What I would like to understand, is it because she is Dutch that she has less rights compared to other immigrants? Why was she forced to abide the laws of the US of A to live here and other immigrants are not held to the same governing laws that my family was? Why was she required to learn English and adapt, but other immigrants are not required to conform? Why is there a double standard for all European immigrants versus other immigrants who come to this country and expect the long standing citizens to change for them?

I am aware that this is a bit much to digest, but this issue hits close to my heart. My grandmother spoke barely any English when she arrived to this country and had to raise a family in a “New World”. This was difficult and she speaks over 4 languages, fluently, but had to master the English language to become a citizen of this country. I listen to her experiences about coming to this country and the changes she had to endure. She had to earn her place in the US of A, to become one of the legal members of society, in her new country. She had to terminate her citizenship of her native country during her swearing in ceremony, just like all other immigrants are required to do. This was an act of honour to become an American and one was to feel pride for joining, unlike today, where the disrespect has poisoned the ritual and the act.

I know of many who are not first born Americans in their families and will have difficulties understanding the harshness of the transition and the privilege of becoming a “true American”. European immigrants have not been treated with the same favoritism compared to other immigrants. European immigrants have been forced to change and follow the procedures and laws established in this country to become American. Why is there a prejudiced attitude towards the European immigrant?

I just remember my father telling me a valuable life lesson: When in Rome, do what the Romans do. There is a reason why this saying still exists after all these years, it works.

Since I am unable to put into written word on Facebook some deep thoughts and opinions, I know that the safety of DD is always here to provide a trashing to various members of my family without retribution. I know that my family is a walking chaos fest. The latest adventure in the family was the wedding this weekend. I will start at the beginning and allow you to have the full story and the aftermath.

Last summer we received a phone call from my stoner aunt that her adult daughter had plans to marry on Halloween (October 31st). This didn’t sit well with me since every Halloween my husband throws a HUGE bash at our house for the neighbors and family. It is an open invite to participate in handing out over 250 bags of candy to all the little costumed trick or treaters. We have been doing this fiasco for the past 10 years and it keeps getting bigger. (I have been questioning my husband’s sanity for years, so we won’t touch that subject today.) My aunt phoned my mother to “guilt trip” her into pushing all of us into going to LONG ISLAND for the wedding. When my mother informed my aunt that this was a NO-go, My 40th birthday and that the party at our home was a community expectation, my dear drugged out aunt went ballistic. My dear aunt then phoned me to attempt to verbally push me into dropping my birthday for her indulged daughter. I calmly vocalized that the answer was no and that we would have to pass on this event because we had prior plans. I hung up with a tad taste of dislike for the entire situation but just stood my ground that we would not be attending the wedding, period. My aunt then decided to push the envelope and call my brother as a last ditch effort to get us to cancel our event. This, too, was met with a dead end. When my aunt discovered that the entire family declined to attend the wedding due to my birthday, she proceeded to return another phone call to my mother and flip the hell out. She went spastic over the odd realization that the family “picked me over her precious daughter”. My mother hung up on her and called me to inform me of this recent attitude change. I was a wee bit peeved that this aunt was attacking my mother for something that wasn’t her fault. I phoned this aunt back up and proceeded to “poke the bear”. My aunt answered the phone muttering and spitting out words in circles, calling me my mother’s name (not realizing that it was me on the phone). I started to giggle and told her that she was manic, needed bi-polar medications and a brief stay in “Section 8″ of the hospital (the mental ward). Things went down hill after that, and I finally hung up on her spitting and screaming, me laughing. Days later I get a private message from my dear cousin patronizing me for not dropping my plans for her impromptu wedding. That I was forcing her to get married and then having to throw another event upstate for the simple folks (us). I wrote back to her kindly, and comforted her with the knowledge that she shouldn’t trouble herself with such benevolence, that we would be fine and that she should just focus on landing that man with a contract of financial ownership. Oddly enough, for some strange reason, I didn’t get a reply back.

Months later, I get wind of news that the wedding date was altered to May, the weekend of Memorial Day. She changed the location to upper, Northern NY (Keene)due to complications outside of her control, and proceeded to blame me. I can handle it, I have big shoulders.

I wrestled with the notion of whether or not to go. I heard she had a huge black tie engagement party in New York City and she didn’t invite a single member of her family, just the groom’s. Her stoner mother wore a canary yellow dress that would be perfect for 42nd Street, NYC, (especially since she didn’t even wear a bra) and scared the groom’s family to the point of nightmares. This is typical of this woman, no fashion sense whatsoever. I, also, heard that there is evidence in the form of photos to prove this horrorshow.

I received the wedding invite in March. This invite was made from construction paper, computer printed out text, with an attempt to be “Martha Stewart” but appearing more like an invite to a recital at my 10 year old niece’s school. After hearing about the black tie event, I was rather surprised, to say the least, and figured that she was throwing the kin-folk a “get together” as she wrote in her private message to me. I replied in email that we would go.

I was wrong, this was the real invites and it was the real wedding.

I decided that since this was a “Mongolian BBQ” picnic wedding, I would wear an indian style dress, royal blue, and solid footed sandals. Dar chose to wear black dress pants, white shirt and black vest with a solid red tie. We looked sharp.

The dress……Well, let’s go into details….I have always been a size 0 most of my life with little to no body fat…including my chest. After hitting my later 30′s, I moved up to a size 4, gaining weight in both my ass and chest while maintaining a small, narrow waist. Think victorian body figures with a corset and that is my natural body type. I often wear baggy clothes and despise wearing any form clinging style clothes, so, I don’t expose my figure. This dress has a peek-a-boo style opening at the breast area with a good view of cleavage, especially with a Victoria Secret B cup bra and it clenches at the waist. When I showed up at my mother’s house on our way to the wedding, the family was rather, ah, surprised (to say the least), that I have breasts. This shock lasted the entire day. One of my family members had to take a picture of my cleavage because of the disbelief. My family was celebrating my boobs like a debutant in lace on her coming out day. It made such a commotion, that Yes folks, my illusion of tits stole the limelight off of the bride.

The wedding seemed to last an eternity, with cobwebs growing on the guests, while the sky threatened to explode into a violent thunder storm with vicious humidity drenching us in sweat. Afterwards we headed to the party location with the guests changing into more casual dress. This caused an uproar from the bride who demanded that the adult guest must return to formal wear, even though this was a glorified pig roast at a park.

My niece proceeded to bury herself in a grave of gravel; I was ushered by my nephew (17) to witness her head being the only thing sticking out of a mountain of stone. The father of the bride (my uncle by former marriage) got terribly drunk and played huggy snuggle-puss with me. (Try hugging a wolverine, and that is what kind of danger he was cuddling up to.) Dar drank too much wine and while holding a plastic cup of soda, came to close to the tornado called me, ended up wearing the entire drink all over his chest and lap. My other aunt made a flirty play with a multi-millionaire and gave him enough ammunition to give him wet dreams for a month (she is gorgeous). My brother proceeded to out class everyone with the cigars and shared generously with all the men while walking around with Captain Morgan slightly diluted with Pepsi. My nephew took over the position of DJ and blasted Lady Gaga while the drunks did their wiggle.

I was back up driver incase Dar was to inebriated, so I stayed sober. UGH. We finally managed to escape with out sanities intact before dark.

We made it home by 10pm and were violently tackled by the dogs, crying out loud about full bladders and empty stomachs.

I can’t wait to see the pictures………….