Friday, December 28, 2018


PORTAL to Another Dimension: 

I could feel and see everything that was happening to me through the portal. It was a tiny yet vast canyon in another dimension. Another time?  Which was I in?  I wondered/pondered as I bent over to pick up something that resembled a telescope. It appeared to be an antique brass cylinder like in the old pirate movies.

“Awr’ land ahoy!”  The rugged filthy yet virile bearded man said as he peered thru the long thin brass object appearing to magnify his destination. 

Was I magnifying through imagination my own destination?  I reluctantly picked up the instrument, put it to my eye and scanned the canyon through the nearly invisible portal in my bedroom wall.  I saw land, mountains, craters, and an ocean. All in miniature scale.  As I scanned this new world through the tiny round amplifying lens I caught a glimpse of three tiny figures.  I turned the cylinder to heighten the magnification and clearly saw a woman.  And walking with her as though lost were two animals. One oddly appeared to be a living breathing large shaggy blue stuffed animal.  I stopped all mental and physical movement afraid to look away or remove myself from the portal for fear of losing it forever. Yet was I dreaming? I continued although with subjective confusion to follow the odd threesome as though I were their portal police. Who were they? Where were they?  Did they need help? And then, suddenly and with a force unknown to me I was pulled through the small opening to the other side in a millisecond. Faster than an airbag and with the velocity of a jet engine. I suspect birth is easier although looking back it did leave me breathless as well as weightless. The weightless part was the only factor I enjoyed. When I reached the end of the portal there was a swoosh as I entered a new world through a second opening and I was free flying. I wondered should I put my arms out like Superman? Actually I did nothing. No thoughts or emotions were present. I simply was.
I had asked for it.  Had done what I always do.  Gotten myself in too deep trying to help others.  It has always been my downfall not to mention the portion of my brain still maintaining rationality wondered if I would or could ever get back. What or who would call me back with the intent I do others. That to me would be the only way of returning through the porthole to the safety of my earthly bedroom. Much less my earthly life.

Regardless, there I was actually flying or rather soaring. It brought back a memory of the boy flying on his shaggy dog in “The Never Ending Story.” Maybe that is who the blue dog was I saw with the woman through the pirate’s nautical spyglass. And then another memory came into view.
I was a small child riding in a car at a time when seatbelts were not required. I would scoot up and rest my head on the back of my father’s driver’s seat near his big safe shoulder usually donned in a soft plaid flannel shirt  and watch the road dreaming of someday driving like he did. On occasion there would be a mountain ahead.  (In reality a child’s mind pictures a small hill to be a mountain.)  I would watch intently as my father drove us up, straight up, where the road met the sky, nothing beyond. The end.  I was sure we would fall off the edge of the road and go down, down, down to our deaths. And then another memory came toward me like a swirling column of air.  Inside the whirlwind was an ocean. I don’t like water; in fact I am very frightened of it.   And then as before I saw my father driving us near the water’s edge purposefully driving off the road and hitting the gravel  to tantalize me, making me think we might drive into the water and die. Actually it was torturing. Why would he do that? I could feel where the fear began in my life as I soared above it able to read the visual beneath me. What my father did wasn’t a good thing. I suspect he will have a portal of his own to deal with someday.

And then…. I descended slowly onto real land. Everything was blurry ahead and all around me. I had nowhere to go so I took a leap of faith and stepped forward only to see clearly a long very tall glass wall I was unable to penetrate. And then I saw her on the other side. I was on the inside of a building and she was on the outside. A door appeared but it would not open.  I could not get out and she could not get in. What would happen if I could let her in?  She was me standing there with her stuffed shaggy blue dog and another small animal I didn’t recognize.  There was no way out.  On earth I would have had FEAR.  Wikipedia says: Fear is a feeling induced by perceived danger or threat that occurs in certain types of organisms, which causes a change in metabolic and organ functions and ultimately a change in behavior, such as fleeing, hiding, or freezing from perceived traumatic events. But here through the portal I had no fear.  I saw prisons, offices full of strange people with all sorts of worriment. I passed over large bodies of water confident in myself to be safe. Mountain roads dropping thousands of feet should one get too close to the edge. People shouting at one another from their vehicles. People dying. People angry with me.  Yet I withstood every insecurity and mental probability of my own fear of confrontations, of dying a water death, falling off a mountain road, and I passed the tests.  The Blue Shaggy dog probably helped some.  Interesting my dream allowed me the security of a living stuffed animal.

I had taken myself to this place to learn how to escape my earthly situation and bring myself back to reality to face life once again.  The Universe took me to places I needed to re-experience so as to be able to live in peace on earth without continued fear.  

There are other portals…..good ones and bad ones.  Given enough mental off balance they will open up and swallow you like the whale swallowed up Jonah. They will steal your life.  Balance yourself to avoid  portals of unearthly dimensions.  It’s all around you. Blurry until you remove the blinders and see the truth.  Just like the glass wall in my portal.  The woman on the other side was me of course.  Now she is free.  Free indeed.

Friday, November 30, 2018

Who Returns Toilet Paper?

Who returns toilet paper and WHY?  No really I saw it with my own eyes.  At Menard's USA. 
Maybe someone was allergic to Charmin?
Maybe someone's "bum" broke out in a rash?
Maybe Charmin plugged up their septic tank?
Maybe they needed money for food?
Maybe it was dirty?
Husband picked up the WRONG brand?
I tell you I saw it!  And I think the man whose wife sent him back there was pretty embarrassed. Or maybe not.
I was standing next to a young man in the return line when...I whispered, "I have never seen anyone return toilet paper!"
He said, "I was thinking the same thing."  Then we giggled like children in church. 
I resized this photo to protect the identity of this person.  I do not make it a habit of making fun of others.  But this was unusual.  Right? I tell  you I saw it with  my own eyes.... Not really one of the world's seven wonders or even close I know I know. 
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy.....

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Merry Christmas from the Past by Diane Ogden

Black and White and check out that tinsel.  My brother and I wanted to "THROW" it onto the special green tree personally cut by father...but let me tell you that was not any where near acceptable. Each tiny strand of glistening silver had to be expertly hung only on the farthest extended branches as to lay properly with no kinks whatsoever.  Wouldn't life be grand without any kinks?   Believe me we had the kinks in our family..... In this black and white sit my brother and I, Nana and Grandad.  They had ample amounts of money and we did  not. As you can see by the cheap perms am displaying.  Dad would cut down a tree from the REAL WOODS out back of our house, then saw the base, drill holes in the trunk of the tree and insert extra branches where necessary for fullness.  Ever heard of that now days? Nope!  Now its off to the corner for the perfect-est tree which costs minimum of $75 plus.  Mother would pop the popcorn and bring in the huge bowl of little red berries to be strung on heavy string for the tree.  My brother and I got to use a needle and thread for this treat we were not always happy about.  We favored cutting out colored paper strips and gluing the circles one end to the other, inserting each strip into the next making a long paper chain of many colores for more tree foo foo.  Ooh how could I forget the ham metal squigglies.  In the olden days canned Ham came with a "key" to open it.  You hooked the key onto the tiny aluminum tab and twisted backwards all the way around the can.  If you miscalculated your screw and slipped, well, mis-perfection wasn't so cool in our household.  A n y w a y...after the can is opened you hold the key and pull down the section you wound out to create a long spiral shiny ornament!  They were rather sharp so we had to be very careful. After all it was aluminum. Mother made homemade gingerbread men. We tied ribbons thru a hole she made with a terrifying ice pic, and hung the little people on the tree.  Candy canes present also.  There was always a bowl of "ribbon candy" sitting on the coffee table.  And some of the tiny sugar candies, peppermints, green mints, yellow ones.  They would crunch quickly between your teeth because they were so little.  Mother would bake home-made yeast breads filled with cinnamon and all sorts of other fancy cookies.  Dad would go out back of the house on Christmas Eve and change into his Santa suit in the chicken coup, then we would suddenly hear bells and know Santa was outside.  He would come to the door and Mother would let him in so he could sit in the big chair and talk to us. We would tell him what we wanted for Christmas and he would do the Ho-Ho-Ho then he would leave, but only after asking us to leave him some cookies and milk and his reindeer some carrots. My God we really bought it!!  To this day I swear I saw him ride out of site in his sleigh with eight tiny reindeer far into the night with a full moon for me to view him ahead of the huge night clouds far above the rooftops.  Indeed Christmas was always a fun time with good memories for me.  Even though the family had and has "kinks."

Friday, November 16, 2018

I Bought a Costanza Rota from Italy!

      Isn't she a beauty? I danced around the purse rack like a woman flirting for some man's attention. My God you'd of thought I was a kid again.  I picked it up, put it back, picked it up, put it back.  Sort of like when your dating a guy who seems so wonderful you melt, then he sticks red flags up your nose and you run away. Then he pulls you back in and so on.  Yup that is the game I was playing at he Marshall's Store at GreenWay Station yesterday.  The price tag was singing a scary song to my brain that this time was truly attached to my pocketbook. No denial! The tag price was $495.00.  My price was $125.00.  That meant I saved $370.00!  Who could say no to that deal? Not me.  It was my new saddle and I could smell her leather five feet away. You see, the woman I am is a lot of shiny mixed with a lot of Western.  I never know whether to buy the full Buffalo rug or the crystal chandelier so I do both.  I am a mish mash of Shabby Chic and a has been wannabe barrel racer at heart. 
       I had no intention of purchasing a new purse.  I have several. A red one, a mint green leather, a peach leather, a fur one that needs to be groomed before I leave the house, a black, a plain tan, a multi black red white and grey beauty, A Coach, and more.  But this one  called  me home to Texas.  It smelled like my Granddaddy's saddle and it looked like it too.  I may have been imagining some of that part, but it did have my name all over it.  Not to mention Pink is my favorite color.  I bought a coat the same color mauve/pink as on that over the shoulder saddle.  It's darn near as heavy as a saddle.  I almost took it to bed with me for safe keeping but there wasn't room.

       Going to a wedding reception soon.  My Costanza leather bag does not match the long black cape with mink tails I had planned on wearing. Yes I bought the mink thing it  before people started throwing cat-sup on other human beings who wore animal fur.  If it helps, my new mauve/pink coat has a special label saying it does not use duck feathers!! We use no duck feathers in the making of this coat.  We use Perel. Whatever that is.

       I just realized I was flirting with a dead cow on that purse rack!! And now I am feeling bad.  So far I have discussed buying a Buffalo Rug,  as well as I feel like I murdered the cow myself for that purse, and I have six mink tails hanging off my body, and I am bragging about my coat being duck feather free.  OMG!  Obviously I am not racist.  Nor am I  vegan.  These days everyone seems to have to have a label anymore. Evidently I don't know if I am a foot or on horseback!

        I prefer simpler.......Me, I like sparkly things and the word _____! 

Sunday, November 11, 2018

"Stuff," I Reside in a Storage Bin of "STUFF"

The definition of "STUFF" is that there are a lot of definitions of "STUFF."  I have been know to call it my college word when being fictitious when I cannot remember or come up with the appropriate word I need.
The Definition per Webster: 
     Matter, material, articles, or activities of a specified or indeterminate kind that are being referred to, indicated, or implied. 
     Worthless or foolish ideas, speech, or writing; rubbish.
Such as:
     He stuffed himself with turkey and dressing.
     He is a stuffy person.
     A pickup truck picked up the stuff.
     And in Britain it is a vulgar term such as our F word.  Stuffed/ F-ed.

In my apartment the definition would read:  She has so much "STUFF" she jokes she lives in a storage bin.
     Yesterday I took on the crazy job of cleaning my storage bin to downsize. What a "Stuffing" joke as they say in Britain. I had no idea the severity of my decision.  I was all organized. Had my diet coke (I know I know!) My little dog and her bed. The appropriate keys to engage entry to the dark hallway of what I fear most besides my "STUFF" away. 
     My friend came over the other day and walked through my apartment.....stood at the other end and said, "You got too much shit in here!"
     I said, "What?"
     She said, "That antique wardrobe has to go. That table has to go. That oak plant stand has to go.  That table behind your dining room table in the corner has to go. That french Provincial dresser along that wall has to go. And maybe we can re-do that chair so it can stay. 
     You see I bought a new sofa because I had two loveseats and when my significant other snores, gasps, chokes, and sputters, half the night I cannot sleep.And neither of us can use earplugs because we have anxiety issues from long disturbing lives making us think there will be a fire or earthquake or a plane might fall on the building and we would miss it!  We do not have three bedrooms so the choice was sleeping on a love seat which I tried many times or buying a new sofa.  Following me?
     The living area isnt very large so friend was trying to help me decide what and where to put what and where.  When she left I was even more confused. Hence...clean out the bin in case I need to STUFF more STUFF in it.  And so I did. I took everything out. Filled my car with antique lamp, antique bird cage, Queen size Serta blowup mattress, clothes, boots, Halloween light up pumpkins, and a brand new cot for the granddaughter to sleep on when she comes to visit, minus its end piece which is under the bed because we are too dang old to stretch it to snap on. Now I have to run that back over to the Hospice Store as I forgot it under the bed.  Jeez.  Back to my point.  There are six bins, one very large bin full of Christmas decorations.  I cant bear to give them away.  But do know there is no room for a Christmas Tree. Nope. Will put one on the porch outside is best we got. So why keep them?  Because. They are from a huge Victorian White Flocked Christmas tree all my children grew up with 40 years ago. Gold and white birds, porcelain figurines, personalized ornaments, pink pearl garlands, roses, pink poinsettia's, and on and on. There are some things I could part with but I would still have five bins STUFFED full. Give them to the kids?  Doubt any of the five want them. Times change.
     This is my office:  I cant believe I am sharing this.  I am not a hoarder but my significant other moved in and I had to get creative regarding space for another person when there was no space for another person. Maybe that was a hidden clue. LOL.

 This is a view from the entrance door. Notice the two lamps on the floor I couldn't bare or is it bear to donate.  The lamp under the clock was the first item I purchased after getting a job after years of being home with the babies.. It cost me $75.00 in 1975.  The top globe is broken so I STUFFED a candle where the bulb goes.  The ottoman is where I feed my cats so the dog cant eat their food as she has pancreatitis and cat food isn't good for her. She isn't able to jump up there.

This is the view to the right of my desk. Family photos and books dear to me.  And a large cat scratching post. 

 This sits directly in front of me.  Antique HOTEL KEY HOLDER.  I have stuffed all sort of wonderful trinkets, miniature books, old buttons in babyfood jars, jewelry in jars, and my sons portable cassette player that is 12 years old at least.  Beneath that is the printer and books. On the side is the Kitty Litter.  I am graced to have it in my office. The half moon picture on top is from the home I owned in 1996.  Cant seem to part with it.  Yes I know this looks like a STUFFED room. Because it is.  Notice the names under the cubbies of the Hotel holder. You know dang good and well when I die my children will come in with garbage bags and scoop it all up and out. 

This is behind me. It is a lovely curio given to me by a Hospice patient when I was volunteering. It matches my desk and reminds me to be thankful.  The white scarf belonged to my Grandfather. Inside are all sort of neat things.  A dozen dried roses my son surprised me with one mothers day 8 or 9 years ago. An antique clutch purse, a painted Santa on a gourd. Two porcelain dolls, one from my 45 year old son years ago, and the other from my 38 year old son years ago. An Angel wind up music box from my daughter one mothers day. An antique "Ginny Doll" that was mine. I learned to sew with it at age 10 and up. A pillow I made for my daughter when she was little. I used old jewelry. Next to it a photo of my deceased dog "Daisy."

The Blue Morph Butterfly in the left corner is from a special mentor friend in Oklahoma. The Blue Morph is a  healing symbol from when her husband passed from cancer years ago. The Ginny Doll is behind it. 
The dolls from my sons. The antique purse, the 3 little stuffed dolls and a homemade Christmas card from my son in prison.....
  1. The handmade velvet pillow, My daughter and my picture is in the heart locket with the cross between us. The dozen dried roses from my son who surprised me on Mother's day 8 years ago.  Photos of my Foster Daughters and a music box tea set.

  2. So what's my point?  I dont really know.  I was sharing with my own blog today whether anyone reads it or not.  I had an idea to take photos of all the belongings that are dear to me and make a "Coffee Table Photo Album" of them.  I could go look at them whenever I wanted to.  BUT  I wouldn't be surrounded by all my children and Grandchildren who have moved far away.  I would probably just find all sorts of new things to STUFF every corner with.  That's just who I am.  Comfy, Cozy, and Loving Life.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Sorry....Cells Have Memories and They Took Over!

So I know I got a little beyond "Nasty," Low Life,  Contemptible, degrading, disgraceful, disreputable, loathsome, reprehensible....retched, vile, good, slimy, worthless and more when writing the last blog a few days ago.
I was angry and disgusted.  But what I said was true. I simply should have used a much different analogy regarding how our brains feel when misused. 
Please forgive. I should be ashamed. (But I am not) 
I must have a few low life's in the background of my family whose cells took over inside my mind and ran down my fingers to the keyboard and pushed all the keys necessary to take my class and shove it down the drain replacing it with muck from my kin who used to work and travel with the circus.  Sure wasn't me! I have proof~  The guy in the Leotard was the circus man my Grandmother married.  Torphy was his name.  My mother is on the far right. "Babe." 

  • Le me also make it very clear there is another side to my family.  The one with class.  Maybe that is why I vacillate from one side to the other but not too often.  
This is my other side:
Put up with's worth it most of the time.

Sunday, October 21, 2018

I Call Bullshit! My Brain Needs Some Tender Loving Care!

A weak Muscle is like a limp dick.  Maybe I should have typed, "A weak muscle is like a LIMP DICK!"  Not sure even the emphasis / drama would help.  A limp dick is a limp dick.  Have you ever tried to get a limp dick up and running?   It just lays there limping like a paralyzed leg.  It sways from one side to another. It never stands up. It is just "IT!"  That is not what "IT" was created to do. Be limp that is.  Maybe God or Mrs. God finally said.... "I Call Bullshit!"  Enough is enough.  You limp dick did your duty and now your done.  Obviously. Evidently. Ostensibly, and undoubtedly!

 Well my slow to get to point is:  Sometimes our minds are like a Limp Dick! The brain waves sway from one side to another.  The brain waves fight standing up for the  person they belong to.  You become an "IT." No mind of your own. No fight left. You just lay down and die like a Limp Dick. Like you "gave life" (is that a pun) and it didn't work out so well go lets go lay down and die.

Sometimes a little blue pill will help it get up for a minute or two or four hours over the top. No moderation. Sometimes a  little white pill can help the brain do a bit better for a bit of a while.  Chemically driven of course. So what the heck is my point?

It is:  Do not allow anyone to speak to you or treat your mind, body, or spirit, badly for very long. If you do your mind will become a limp dick. Your life will become a limp dick. Your spirit will sink into limpdickism. Your tears will fall unheard as your friends will see  you as their limp dick friend. No help will help.  No pill for stupid.  A limp dick is a waste of time and might I add energy. Depending on how it is attached to the brain of course.  A simple analogy.

I looked up Limp Dick:  Got this:
1. Make him do more Cardio exercises. He needs only 30 minutes a day. THIS IS WHAT WE SHOULD DO FOR OUR BRAINS ALSO.  I TOLD YOU THEY ARE SAME SAME.
4. Purchase him a vacuum penis pump. OKAY WE AREN'T GOING THERE.. I LISTEN TO POSITIVE TAPES. HE DOESN'T.

Saturday, October 20, 2018

MPOW Headphones

       That stands for "Me a Prison of War" to these headphones.  Pink headphones. That is truly the reason I bought them.  A friend of mine messaged me that Menard's had a set of Pink headphones (obviously she knew I like pink,) for $14.95 and the sound is good for listening to books.

       My kitchen is pink, my clothes lean toward all pink, I think pink, and if I were younger my hair would be pink!  That said....I went to Menard's same day. All sold out!  Went online. No pink left. So I upgraded and ordered a PINK pair (I have learned to dislike the word pair) for $39.95. Amazon Prime. Two days later they arrived to my excitement. (Which didn't last long)I cut open the box with vigor.  Wow, even got a grey suede pouch to travel them in.  Problem was I have never figured out how to fold them up. No instructions.  I pull out the little book and I mean LITTLE with little print and little instructions. ALOT of other languages of little print.  So as not to further confuse me I cut the other extra pages of languages off with my trusty scissors causing the entire little book to fall apart all about my desk.  Might I add no page numbers.  I had to wing it. Then I found the page #'s!

       I guess I forgot I hadn't owned a pair of headphones for decades. I pulled them out of the box, charged them up pushed the button on the side of the right headphone and the darn thing talked to me.  Scared the hell outta me which I could stand to lose anyway. It said, "You are connected!"  Connected to what?  As a blue and red light blinked all around my ear like an outer space toy.

       I removed the pretty pink talking blinking "thing" and began to examine it.  What was I truly dealing with here?  All I wanted was to listen to a book.  But I figured I better read the little instruction book or that may not ever happen. 

       In fact after I accidentally made a phone call with "Them headphones" that now seemed alive to me, to a lawyer after hours....I set them gently on the side of my desk for at least a week before re-attempting a relationship with them.

       Then  I start reading the fine print. Again

 There are five pages of how to short press, long press, how many seconds for this and that and all on one inch and a half circle on the side of my  head.   It also appears I can talk to "it" and "it" will respond and talk back. 
1- power on
2- Pairing with phone, PC, watches, TV, and probably the neighbors!!
3- Phone 1 connect
4- Phone 2 connect
5- disconnect
6- volume (ah ha!)
7- mute
8- Switch on = blue light flashes 3 times
9- Switch off = red light flashes 2 times
10-incoming call = red and blue take turns flashing  Dear God
11- Pairing = red and blue take turns and voice talks to me
12- Connection = Blue light flashed one time every 6 seconds
13- Music and phone calls same as 12.
14- Low Battery = will get a doo doo doo sound.  Now that is appropriate for all this mess.
15- Charging = Red light on all the time / do not use during.

       Need I number and explain ?  Nope! 

       I have dyslexia.  These headphones are one of my worst nightmares other than death by dismemberment.  In a dream of course. After accidentally calling my lawyer I have become afraid of my new pink gadget. What is it going to do next?  Whatever I tell it to do which is the issue at hand. Or head.  I need a mirror to see which side of the little circle to hold for 2.5 seconds etc. But then it would show me backwards!   Do you recall being a kid and having to learn to comb your hair while looking in the mirror?  Well I can.  Or setting your hair in rollers in the 60's.  I guess if I learned how to roll hair in the mirror I maybe can learn this???????

And as for the Audio Cable!  I do not have a clue which hole to put that in on my PC.  Is that for microphone or listening?  I am a fairly intelligent human being.  I think what has happened is a few decades of getting behinder. I took shorthand in school. I took typing.  I took art class.  I learned cursive and etiquette. I took Home where they taught us to cook and sew which I realize now earned me no Social Security whatsoever.  Nor did those five babies I had!  Nor did the three husbands had I killed I would have been out by now.  Of course we know I am kidding on that one. Sort of. That was my Mother's old Buick.  I have since upgraded to a new SUV  but couldn't find my photo of new bloody leg.

       So here I sit with my cutesy pink headphones from outer space techno-land.  If I ask my Granddaughter she will ZIP thru an explanation for me while I stare at her like a deer in headlights.
       Then she will calmly say, "What don't you get?"  So I have learned how not to be treated. I don't ask. 

       I put them on for you all very carefully so I wouldn't "eardial" anyone by mistake.  Your getting the early morning sunglasses, no makeup, shot of Grandma in her pink headphones she cant operate. 

Saturday, September 29, 2018

The Fake Fockers are having ANOTHER little Focker!

Praise the Lord or whoever planted the latest "Fake Focker Fetus." I thought we would never get through the first little fake focker but we did and she is precious.  That was Seven years ago. That Fake Focker Baby Daddy left the State as there was no Union.  He is very lucky considering we had thoughts, I said thoughts....of, well, nevermind.

Then into our world comes a new Fake Focker Man. I call him "The Bachelor."  Like the TV Show.  Well to do farmer alias dump truck driver alias divorced.  Me being the Happy  one in the family of dysfunction....I thought it was a good thing. Never concerned about procreation considering Fake Focker Bachelor's first wife had to have invetro which lended them a son. And mother mary is she mad because she had to have invetro and Fake Focker Girlfriend didnt.

Anyway....back to the issue at hand. Why add to it? (Because it was an accident.  Little Fake Focker Fetus snuck right on in there on his own. ) They together had - One girl, One boy, two mamas, two daddy's. All's Good- Stop there. Because.... Now they have and cant ever get rid of:  One ugly mean dont-want any fake fockers in their life mother of Fake Focker Bachelor. And one ugly aunt with similar feelings. Add one x-wife who wants x-husband back and you have a war without a Motor Home. Dad of new found Fake Focker Bachelor Farmer is the quiet peacemaker who has taken to the field in his bigger than life tractor corn picker thang. No one has seen him in days or told him there is another Fake Focker Fetus growing day by day.  Me being the Happy one in this scenario says it will all be fine.

Probably not!

Fake Focker daughter cries all the time. Fake Focker Fetus Daddy never comes home as there is too much stress. Stays by his one ugly mean mother and drinks in the work shop while Fake Focker pregnant without invetro girlfriend cares for his invetro son and her first Fake Focker Baby while throwing up and crying on the way to school, dancing lessons, tutoring, grocery shopping etc.  Me being the Happy one in this family says it will all pass.  But thinking: What must the tiny new Fake Focker Fetus be feeling?

"He" will surely be a little stinker considering he snuck up on everyone like this.  But then that is a true Focker for sure.  Full of the dickens in a good way.

I don't know Yoga like the true Focker Mama so I cant sway ugly mean Focker Bachelor fetus babies mother back to our loving crazy Fake Focker happiness family. And my Fake Focker Fiance isnt as happy or creative as me. That being said he sort a sits by the sidelines playing solitaire on his iphone which is his way of hiding in a big tractor picking corn like Fake Focker Fetus's other Grandpa does. (But I do know about how she could keep her sweet husband home more often! would never work. )

This Fake Focker Baby Daddy will never leave the state like the first one!  We need a plan.....just in case. Actually, me being the Happy one in this family of fakers....I suspect it will all work out in the end.  That being said:  We are having another Fake Focker Baby!!!I probably shouldn't post this because no one really knows yet except the ugly ones.  So it's time to turn that around!

Meet our newest addition to the Fake Focker Family:   " Happy Fake Focker Fetus..." 

Friday, September 7, 2018

Who Would You Spend Your Last Day on Earth With?

Who would you spend your last day on earth with?  I said Who? Meaning only one person can be the answer. 

At first I thought about my children but which one would I chose? Impossible.

Next I thought about my boyfriend of several years. I quickly decided I had already spent several years with him so he was off the list.

Then I pondered quietly.  Who would I want to spend my last day on this earth with?  The day I would die and move onto "something" they, whoever they is, call heaven. Actually I believe Heaven has many rooms and we will all go there, to heaven that is.  Only difference is we will go to different rooms like in school. Some may need Kindergarten heaven.  Others my get a good Harvard Heaven window.  Some may get jail heaven idk..... Just depends on what energy you are carrying around.

So after a time of pondering the answer simply came to me quietly.

I would chose Dolly Parton to spend my last day on earth with.  Yup.  I wouldn't get sweet warm gentle kisses by choosing her like I would from my boyfriend.  I wouldn't get arms wrapped around me securely warding off any and all fear of what room I might end up in...  I wouldn't get my last chance to ever make physical love with my or any man.  But I found that was okay because what I like best in life is laughter and singing.  Who better to talk, sing, and laugh with on my last day of life.

Dolly is a sweet, smart, Godly woman. She  makes the cleverest jokes but so do I.  I suspect we would be going back and forth on that all day taking turns making one another laugh. And I would eat some wedding cake, drink a couple Scotch and Soda's and sing some duet's with her. Maybe even record them for my children.  She is a loving person so I figure she would put her tiny arm around me and maybe even sing an impromptu song about livin' and dyin'.  She would pray with me.  Then we would both cry a few times in between the considerable amount of giggling and hearty laughing.  I would listen to her stories of her life.  She could tell me about anything considering I wouldn't be around to share it.  She would take me for a ride in her convertible over the hills and we would glory at the trees, clouds, and the magnificent sun.

She would say in that sweet southern voice, "Awh honey, they are gonna just love you when you get to that next stop with Jesus. Why the table is already set up for you. And when my time comes I will be sure to find you no matter what room  your assigned to!"

They day would be filled with words of faith, love, and laughter from her tiny person to my person.

Well I'm not sick and or dying that I know of.  It just came to me today who I would want to spend that last day with.

I like my choice.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017


It was a night like any other after a day of the same.  They all ran together anymore like time.  My body was drifting away from my mind by each passing day.  I lived in a gray area. That time between life, you know real life and death?  Real life was when I lived for another day.  This was each day waiting to pass away to another.  You see, I lived in a “nursing home” and that was my daily existence.  Oh they tried to make it a workable situation.  A situation is exactly what it was.  They fed me.  They washed my clothes.  They found activities a second grader could handle.  Such as cutting paper and gluing it to another piece of paper and calling it Emil’s Paper Sculpture.  Oh, and I was person of the week once but there was no Mother or son around to make my giant poster placing each photograph perfectly next to another of our pets or me riding my pony.   There was no daughter to check on my care.  Just me alone in one room I paid for during my working years.  I surely thought I had done somewhat better than this.  One window,  dull walls, no curtains, no radio, and especially no computer for me to live out my days through others.  Prison might have been more fun actually.  A barrage of crazies to watch, listen to, and definitely more activities.  Maybe no Bible in the drawer but then I had already read that a couple times and I am still in the dying room.  I guess each day of life is another day toward dying.  We just don’t get to know which day or year.  And every decision big or small makes our days good or bad as they lead us to the day we pass away.  
Then came a day that turned out different from the rest, when Nurse Amy informed me I had a visitor.
 A visitor?  My mind didn’t get too excited for it was probably the “mill’s” Chaplain doing his Godly duty making sure I had my Godly ducks in a row in case this was my day to go.  Most people enjoyed his visits except me.  I always wondered what he was hiding behind his little clean white crisp God collar.  I figured when it came right down to it we were both going to the same place, answering to the same Universe.  I was probably more honest with my old dirty blue collar than Mr. Chaplain ever had been. 
Turned out I was wrong because in walked the prettiest lady I had seen in a long time besides a few of the aides, but they were like Great Grandchildren to me. I surely did not view them as pretty or otherwise.  No, this lady carried a special aura around her entire being as she walked over and laid her hand upon mine.   Why I wondered if God had sent a true to life Angel to come for me.  What a joy to walk through the passageway of time with this beauty.   She was almost as pretty as my beloved mama. 
She introduced herself as  Miss Julianna.  Said she had come to listen to whatever I wanted to talk about.   I just stared at her for the longest time.   She took my hand in hers as she looked past my old eyes and into my lonely mind.   She told me she cared what I thought about, and she cared about my feelings as she squeezed my hand.   She was interested in anything I had to say.   Funny thing was I couldn’t think of a thing to say.  I could only stare into her beautiful green eyes and long thick red hair.  Her eyes seemed to summon the old me to come out and play like I was a young twenty year old again.  
I smiled what I recall being the first smile in a very long time.   And then reality struck and I worried I might not smell the best.  They only washed us up some before bed and that was if they had time.  As for a shower, that came once a week and it hadn’t been that day.   I had no pretty rings anymore.  No nice watch or crisp clean shirt with pressed slacks to impress Miss Julianna.  My skin was dry and I wondered if my breath was offensive.   And then I realized she did not care about my physical body at all.  She cared about my spirit and who I was all my life. She cared about my spirit forever into infinity. My life mattered because one person cared.  Really cared.
And so it was that day while I lay dying she listened to all that was in my heart.  And she listened for hours while holding my hand and sipping her lemon water.  
I passed away that day.  But I took with me that twenty year old man and a renewed confidence I could handle what came next……..

Love, Emil.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Waves of Scented Cordiality.........a Short of Diane Ogden

Waves of Scented Cordiality   

It was late evening when I departed Missouri headed for deeper southern parts of this country with its so called freedom of everything.  Somehow lately that was becoming a trend of the past. The Freedom thing that is.  Government seemed to be taking over in an undercover manner that reminded me of the MAFIA days in the sixties.  Same deal, different year.  No there wasn’t the public gunshots and bloodshed at the bars of brotherly love in Chicago and New York like in the 40’s.  No this takeover of the masses was smooth as it was hidden behind congressional doors.  I paid as little attention to it as I could considering my inability to stop it although I did wonder on occasion, should I store up some water jugs and cans of tuna just in case.  In case of what?  I was never sure of what.  I heard tell of secret concentration camps for the poor and those who didn't agree with the new world leaders and their antics.  Conspiracy theorist?  No I was never one of those.  But hey, come on, I wasn’t blind either.  Most people with any sense knew change was on the horizon. But then it always is in one fashion or another.  The country was being run by old fogies hiding in the underworld of what we used to call democracy.  My goal was to move as far away from my home country as finances would allow. I no longer considered it land of the free.  I did consider it home of the brave for anyone who had no choice but to stay.
I had not traveled even midway toward my destination when my car broke down.  I was in a small town in Oklahoma. 
Being a very structured person I had all my papers in order for the border crossing into Mexico as well as I had purchased a beautiful villa on the coast, from a friend.  That friend had made his way to Australia, one of the few less ruled countries in the world. Nevertheless, there I was in little "timbuck40” Okmulgee, Oklahoma calling for a wrecker and feeling very alone on the side of the road in the middle of no where'sville.
The wrecker arrived within a half hour.  To my pleasant surprise a tiny little woman leaped down from the cab with ease greeting me with the standard, "Howdie do!" Almost Minnie Pearl like.  Why she looked to be the size of a twelve year old. I had to giggle to myself. 
After all the necessary vehicle security hook ups we climbed into the cab and headed back for Okmulgee, population 12,331 give or take a few.  I know, it sounds like the name of an old army stew.  Rather it means bubbling water.  This from Wikipedia: Okmulgee, city, seat (1907) of Okmulgee county, east-central Oklahoma, U.S. It lies near the Deep Fork of the North Canadian River, south of Tulsa. Its name (meaning “bubbling water”) comes from a Creek Indian town in Alabama. It was the capital of the Creek Nation from 1868 until Oklahoma achieved statehood in 1907. Settled by whites about 1889, Okmulgee boomed after the discovery of oil in 1904 and is now a commercial and industrial centre for oil and gas production and agriculture (pecans, cotton, wheat, corn [maize], cattle).
On our ride back to the city the woman told me all about herself.  She had seven children.  She owned the local tire store with an attached vehicle repair center. Her husband had run off a few years back and instead of wallowing in the self-pity of it all, she started her own business.  She then listed one by one each of her children’s ages and duties.  She had some dandy stories to tell me during our forty minute trek back. Oddly she also shared with me how she was born again and baptized in the Holy Spirit. She asked me if I was interested and before I could say yes or no or ask any further questions I was being laid hands on and talking goobly goo. I couldn’t have said no anyway as it was hard to get a word in edgewise. There was much laughter in the cab of that shiny yellow tow truck that day as well as a miracle that now I realize was orchestrated by someone outside this world.  Sometimes it’s best we do not know what the future holds.
Upon arrival at the repair shop she offered me a loaner vehicle, at a price of course.
It was wheat harvesting time in that area.  I had taken a drive out and about the countryside while my car was being repaired.  There really wasn't much to see besides wheat fields in that part of the country.  The continuing yellow fields all appeared normal until I came to pass a field appearing to have been partially flooded with something besides rainwater.  It looked like milk.  A huge field of mashed down wheat soaking in milk.  Oddest thing I had ever seen.  I slowed down to the point I was creeping along about ten mph.  There was a curve in the road and as I rounded that bend there stood two white animals.  They were actually two of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.  I knew I shouldn't stop and get out but I had to.  Some force other than anything I had ever known was pulling me toward those animals. Was it a hallucination? The thick milky substance in the field, and the odd looking animals, should have totally creeped me out and I should have driven away as fast as humanly possible, but I did not.  As I walked toward them I again noticed something odd.  Their eyes were shining like tiny stars. Were they real or mystical openings of light from somewhere other.  They were not what I knew an apparition to look like. Was I dreaming?  No.  I reached out to the smaller one what appeared to be a cow.  The other was a large dog.  Both very similar in size.  I know, weird right?  Each time I touched one of the animals it felt like I was in another world.  A peace came over me that I had never experienced on this earth. Waves of scented cordiality. I was being invited but to what?  It was then I began to feel frightened.  I backed away, got into my vehicle and drove on still in fear yet in some sort of yearning for more manifestations from another dimension and or my own sanity to return.  Searching for other white covered fields and or animals but there were no more. 
That is when I saw a ranch house off the road to my left. The sight brought me back to feeling somewhat safer or maybe it called me back to a sense of normalcy even though it was out in the middle of nowhere.  I pulled in the driveway.  I was in need of sharing my findings.  There were several vehicles parked around the house and outer buildings leading me to feel rather protected or maybe free from danger.  I am not sure why because at that point I should have been calling the authorities. The next thought was why?  What would I tell them?  Maybe something like: 
"Hi, my name is, and I just passed a wheat field soaking in a thick white milky substance and two very peace filled white animals with sparkling stars for eyes." Ya right.  The authorities would have called the padded wagon people for sure.
So what did I tell the people who lived in this ranch house?  Same deal?  I knocked at the front entrance.  I stood there for what seemed too long when a man finally answered the door.  I recited my name as though that would be all I would need to do and he would understand the entire story.  Of course not.  Funny what our minds do to us when we are nervous and wish to escape.  I proceeded to ask him what the milky substance in the wheat field adjacent to his residence was.  And I thought possibly he had misplaced a couple of animals.  He looked at me strangely, not saying a word.  I pressed my lips thin and raised my eyebrows in an expression as to say, "Well?" 
He answered with, "Maam, I don't know what you are talking about, while his eyes blazed coldly through me." 
I carefully and slowly reiterated what I had seen in the fields regarding the thick white milky substance and the animals, at which time he hollered very loudly for his brother Chetley.  Yes Chetley.  Who names their kid Chetley?  But then who tells a story like I had just told to Chetley, wiener’s brother!  Yes that was either my humorous side regarding the weiner brother or fear.  Maybe both as I am seeing something strange in the eyes of the brothers and it "aint" stars.  They are thinking there may be a crazy lady at their door, yet her story needed to be checked out.  They invited me inside and introduced me to the rest of the family.  Said they were going to go investigate my story and I was welcome to stay until their return.  I accepted.  Sometimes in life it would be helpful to be able to see ahead just a few hours!  If I could have done that my decision to stay would have been a very different one had it been in my control.
About thirty minutes had passed when Chetley and wiener hustled back into the ranch house with such intensity I felt twinges of anxiety rushing through my veins.  They instructed the family to gather all necessary belongings along with family photos and load the vehicles. 

I said, "Wait, why, what did you find out, out there?"
Chetley told me to stay in the living room and they would come and get me when the cars were loaded and it was time to leave. His face seemed to be convulsing with fear. And then they systematically moved about the house and yard readying themselves for what appeared to be a long vacation.  Inside I knew different.  Something big was happening and I was smack dab in the middle of it. But what?  I paced for a bit, sat for a bit, even turned on the television trying to disengage my brain and find that peace I had back near the "Milk Field." Only to gather my thoughts and realize I might be losing my mind. Wheat slumped in Milk, white cow and dog. I needed a doctor. And then…
As the TV came on saying "SPECIAL BULLETIN FROM NBC NEWS,"   Chetly and Weiner brother’s cars pulled out of the driveway without me!  And before I could run outside to join them, a helicopter was over the ranch house with a loud speaker saying anyone left inside was not to leave the area.  The area was now under quarantine.  I whirled around toward the TV and there was my loaner car and the ranch house in grand HD 55 inch view.  Who would ever need a 55 inch TV anyway? 
Gathering my wits about me had not worked.  I opened the front door only to see men in huge white suits covered from head to toe.  Oxygen tanks in tow.  Oh my dear God what is happening?  The men told me I was under quarantine orders from the United States department of defense. 
“Defense?”  I asked why please. 
They said they weren't able to give me any information at this time but that the quarantine was indefinite.  They would be in contact with me if I needed anything in the meantime.
“Meantime?  Indefinite?  Are you fricking serious?” 
I started running through the house out of shear fear and panic.  Then to the kitchen to see what food was available for indefinite which to me meant the same as infinity.  When I was a child I could never understand eternity.  Nor could I then, as I stood peering into the refrigator contemplating the connection of timelessness and food.  Neither was computing in any way.
I had my cell phone but the charger was in the car.  Was I allowed to go to my car?  I opened the front door again only to see the tanks arriving.  Yes army tanks outside on the County Road such and such.  It was obvious this woman, me, was going nowhere.  Who would I call anyway.
The TV was now giving me more information than the authorities.  It showed the field of thick milky substances and the two white peace-filled animals as well as the ranch house and my vehicle.  I wanted to go to the front door and wave at the camera's to help me but thought I had best not do that.  I was a foreigner in these parts.  I only said "howdie do" a couple times and that was just a mere attempt to fit in.  Well I had found a way to never fit in, hadn't I?
The night’s darkness came swiftly.  Something I hadn't thought about in all the ruckus of helicopters, news crews, police, fire trucks, and a HASMAT team....  and then they all disappeared.  NBC Bulletin said the foreign white substance could be deadly and the only human being that touched it was in quarantine inside the ranch house on County Road such and such.  Why I was terrified.  Not of death from the substance, but of human beings coming to get rid of the only person to have touched the goo.  I knew the goo wasn't bad.  It was white and peaceful.  Nothing like I had ever felt or touched had given me such peace on this earth.
Weariness had settled upon me. I fell into a deep sleep in Chetley’s big old brown leather recliner. I left the television running as it helped the loneliness of the situation.  Did the government think it was a disease? Who put it there?  How did the two animals get there and why? 
Just then a beautiful man in a white mist appeared before me.  I believed I was dreaming.  Or was I?  He told me "they" were from Another World and not to be afraid.  The milky substance was their creation given to us, the U.S. as an antidote to the latest killing virus Ebola.  The government would never know where it came from or why.  Only I had been allowed that information and to know the Ebola virus was no more. 

I asked why me?  The kind loving man told me because it was my time to have that special peace everlasting.  I had been chosen because I was the closest human being to the area when it was sprayed.   And by touching the animals I had received a dosage of anti-viral medicine beyond the level any human could endure....   I would be leaving with the men in white and the two animals for everlasting life elsewhere.  I had no fear.  The peace I felt from the other world didn't exist anywhere I had ever lived or traveled.  I asked what about the people left here.  Shouldn't we tell them about the healing from Ebola?  
He smiled and said, "No my dear, they wouldn't believe.  Each of them will come to a time in their lives such as you have this day.  Each in a different set of circumstances where it will be their time to go to the other World and have everlasting peace.” 
“Are you ready to go now?" 
I nodded and smiled an affirmative. I knew then I had died of the earth.
We rose in peace and ascended to a place where all the animals and people were pure amidst peace and perfect love.  It was then I also realized the little woman from the tire store in Okmulgee had been chosen by God to lead me gently through the miracle transition from earth to the Promised Land and my new everlasting life in the next room.

Monday, July 17, 2017

"AGORAPHOBIA"....(fear of Brocollli not)

I dedicate this vision to my Granddaughter (not biological but with me since she was 18 months old).
        I used to have Agoraphobia.  Oh yes, that horrible fear based dis-ease that keeps one from life, love, and the pursuit of anything.
        I learned I can hear from the spirit.  The good spirit.  And I did hear one day on October 20, 1999.  I also play with simple numerology which means that day  I heard and had this vision was...October 20, 1999 which adds up to the number 4.  The number 4 represents the teacher and the teacher likes Security. Yup that would be me and my not biological Granddaughter who really is.  We both like security and I rec'd this message from God on the perfect 4 day.  I am giving it to her 18 years later.  Here goes baby girl:

God took me on a FEARLESS Journey.  All the places you will read about I desperately feared.
I quote the words I heard from God. (The Spirit)

"I want you to cast out guilt this day.  I will back you.  I want you to cast out the demon of self defeat which is no more than listening to others too much. And fear of success. It is a part of self defeat. Call in success along with money.  SUCCESS. "
         I suddenly see a JET coming over us.  Me and God.  God tells me to go for a ride.  He says, "Grab a hold of the wing."  I do it. Then I become frightened and God says to let go and he will catch me. So I do and he catches me.  Suddenly, we are on a cloud.  I tell him that was cool was fun.  
        Then he takes me in his one arm and we soar down to an ocean liner.  He sets me on board.  I don't care for it. I have a huge fear of water. He tells me to just stand there for a while and he will be right back.  I don't care for it yet.  Then some people come by and we talk and laugh and I forget I am frightened.  The people invite me to a show on the boat.  I am afraid to leave the place where he left me as he was coming back. But I go anyway. I have so much fun at the fancy show.  And the food was so great.  The people leave and I go back to the place I was standing where he left me.  Many people pass and talk to me.  The islands are beautiful.  The breeze is cool and I can breath so well.  Then I see God.....he came back for me.  He took me back up and we sat on the cloud together.  Silently.  He wanted me to reflect on the day.  It is now getting dark. No one is around as we look down upon the earth. He tells me to stay there he will return in a while.  I don't care for that. I do not like to be out in the middle of no where alone.  (agoraphobia) I hear him say, "You are not alone. I am here." I say but I cant see  you Lord.
       He tells me, "But I have taken care of you all day have I not? And you had a wonderful day, did you not."  I say Okay. Then I sit in silence. No praying. No begging, no fear. Some discomfort, but I have total peace. I see a bright light from a beautiful star.  The star is like alive.  Like lighting the sky just for me. That star gave off a gentle light and with it came love and peace.  Like the star loved me.  So I wasn't alone.  I had a star that loved me.
       Later God returns. He hugs me and tells me to put my  head down and rest.  I fall asleep and he holds me until I awake.  I had no need to eat.  I was just there  in love and peace.  He told me we had a few more things to do before I could go back.  Suddenly I was in my car and he ws sitting next to me in the passenger side.   We were on the Interstate.  One of my biggest fears. Way out in no where land.  Not even a big Green Hiway sign or another car in sight. Scary to me.  But I am fine.  He was next to me.  We had some nice music on and he comments to me that he is a lover of music.  Good music.  Not necessarily always  Godly music but of course that also. He loves the praise of the Godly music. But the ability of his people to master the instruments and make such beautiful sounds from them.  We then visit and look at the beautiful earth that is passing by rather quickly as the speed limit is up there around 70ish, although I seems to be more like suspended in time somewhere speed.  I saw no rest stops ahead.  I saw no hospital signs that I usually look for when I would get frightened.  I didn't seem to need them.  I saw the most beautiful precious deer on the side of the road.  Then God tells me he has to leave, but he will be back in a while.  I do not want him to leave.  He reassures me I will be fine, that he is not far away.  I tell him I do not like to be alone out there.He assures me once again, I will be fine, he is not far away. Then he is gone.  I continue to drive and watch the road and signs and animals and now there are many cars around me.  Even a policeman passes me by.  I wonder if I have a flat tire what will I do? Then I forget that fear/thought. I wonder what I will do if I will get sick and am alone, then I forget that fear also.  I wonder if anyone knows where I am, then I forget that also.  I wonder if I choke and no one will be around to help me.  Then I see the beautiful trees and forget all that. I wonder if a car will hit me and I will die.  Then I suddenly hear the beautiful music he was speaking of and I forget the fears.  I wonder where I am going.....then I realize where.  I am going to a new place.  A place with no fear/broccoli.   (joke)  A place where I do not think of fear.  But of music and peace and animals and sky with clouds I can make into pictures and green grass and signs that say there is more life to see with each mile.
      .....suddenly he is back.  He is siting next to me and all is well after all.  As quickly as we got onto that Interstate Highway I was so afraid of ....we were back on the cloud.  He says, "How was that?" I tell him what happened ( as if he didn't know) and he replies, "I know."  I say, what's next Father.   He says....."Let's go fishing."  I say, I don't like little boats and the water.  I am not comfortable. He says...."We'll see."  Suddenly we are in a boat.  Not a very big one either. I am not comfortable. The water is moving and I am thinking I will get dizzy.  He calmly says...."Why don't you concentrate on your fishing line, and the beauty that surrounds you."  BLINK....I have a fish on my line. Wow, a pretty big one. I never caught anything but little bitty stinky ones before.  This was FUN.  I never noticed the water moving.  I was not dizzy...I was busy.  Then I caught another and another and I got to keep them.  God and I had fish together on the shore that night. I wasn't even cold.  And I forgot to be afraid.  God showed me the other side of fear. It was called FUN. He told me, "YOU DESERVE IT, YOU CAN HAVE IT. IT IS YOURS." I accepted that from him  Then he said we had one more thing to do.  We went to a place....a weird place.  Many people walking all over  and around us. As the people came up to us, God would ask me to tell him about them.  Individually.  I did.  I discerned them.  I discerned the spirits around them.  He quizzed me. I would tell him my first impression of each person.  Then I would name the spirits that inhabited them.  And if needed I would dust off my feet.  I would move on or speak more to the chosen ones.  I knew their feelings.  I knew their spirits. Their hearts. Their souls.  I knew. He had given me some gifts to use to help others.  He watched and listened and had a proud heart of me. He touched me with his love and gifts that I would touch others. He believed in me and bestowed that belief in me for others. HE never left me. I wasn't afraid anymore. I realized he was never far from me as he had shown me that over and over.  He had promised to come back to me each time and he did.  I really was never alone.  I am not abandoned.  I wont ever be.  I am not afraid as there are too many good things to see.  I am healed by the one who knows all.  By the teacher of all teachers.  He is my Heavenly Father who sits on a cloud within me and waits for me to sit with him.  And when I do he shows me whatever I need to see.  He shields me from what I do not need to see and shows me what I need to know and see.  With God on my cloud and my Angel, the gentle star lighting my way....there is no room for fear.  It is dead as the nerve in a dead body.  I am alive.  I am Diane....Alive and of God.

It was not an instant healing from AGORAPHOBIA but it was the death of it in my mind.... Anyone can take this journey....