Saturday, October 30, 2010

Just in time for Halloween...creepy stuff...

None of this is's actually happened...and to ME!!! eek!!!

The house I grew up in was never happy...and I had never felt comfortable there. It had never been a home. There were 4 generations living there: my GreatGrandmother, Grandparents, mother and my sister and I.

My great-grandmother died in the house in 1986, the start of a Hellacious year. She had broken both hips at different times and it was a stroke that finally did her in. On January 1st 1986 at 10 in the morning. My mother and I were cleaning her up to get her ready for the day...that was the first person I ever saw die, come to think of it...wasn't really scary...just breathing then not...
She was 92 and had lived a good life, I would think.

My grandmother wore the pants in the family. There was no insubordination, backtalk or differing opinions...she was the female version of Archie Bunker.

My mother was sort of a non-entity. She never had a backbone. She got pregnant, got married, was taken away from the husband, got a divorce and never dated, remarried or had any other form of life outside the house really except for school and jobs.
She also died in the house on July 23,1998. My son and I were going to go over there that very day and WE would've found the carcass...eeekkk...great for a 5 year old to see. But he said he wasn't feeling well so we didn't....lucky us...

I had been told that psychic crap doesn't exist since I was little...but...I remember being very small, maybe 4-6, and being in my bed but not really. I remember being both in bed and going downstairs. My grandmother and some of her friends were playing cards. The next morning I told my grandmother about what I had seen, down to the cards and I was punished for lying...even though I hadn't been. I was told that noone can be in two places at once and I had to be lying because it wasn't possible...well maybe not in HER philosophy.

I am a cardiac care patient and have had two corrections of Tetralogy of Fallot. During one of the procedures I managed to die...hmm...well, whatyouknowaboudat?
I even made the papers as "Congratulations, a local girl has died"...umm...scuse me? Sorta the tone for my life, I guess.Sorta explains a lot...

Later on, as a teenager, my sister had a couple of friends come over and we all, yeah me too, made up a ouija board. Digging through stuff in the attic had always been fun...until I found a picture of a demon that my Aunt Sue's ex husband had painted...Gods know why it ended up there, but it did...Methinks that might've been a second strike for the make it, name it, and it Frankenstein's monster...The name of it was the name of a city/town in MA and whenever I hear the name I STILL get chills up my spine.
We got not much that first we kept at it. Pretty soon it was a family sort of thing...have nothing going on let's get out the ouija board...Thank the Gods for computers these days...something else to do...

The house I lived in "allegedly" had been built by the Finlayson family. Haven't found too much or anything at all to go on...but I haven't really tried either...but that's neither here nor there. And I had been told that it was made out of driftwood from shipwrecks...wouldn't have surprised me in the least...lotsa a shipwrecks in the area and Gods know they might've been "helped" a bit, nod, wink. "Wreckers" would lure ships onto rocks and shoals and beaches and steal the cargo, kill the people and generally just be mean and miserable and cheap Yankees...

I mean living in a house where you didn't really feel comfortable leaving the main floor after dark has to have something to it, KWIM?

About this time I managed to start practicing witchcraft...not the cutesy new age "spelloramus" shite that they say is nice fuzzy kitty bunny stuff, but one step away from sacrificing children, using blood sacrifices black magick. That added another "fun" dimension to teenaged angst, personality conflicts (mostly myself and my grandmother) and just general unhappiness and I'm sure mental illness and alcoholism didn't help either.

Back to the Ouija story, we wound up getting an entity who told us his name and that he was part of the Brinks Job and that we could find his loot by going in the attic and finding the hole where he had put it...

We even managed to get him to "appear" to us and took a picture...we got a picture of the wall with a bright white spot on it...

The last time I used or even touched a ouija board was when my GGM was still alive...we were at the usual Sunday session when the doorbell rang. So it must've been the early 80's, when I was truly walking on the dark side...It was my mother, me and my grandmother. I don't even remember what was being asked or anything else. The doorbell rang and my grandfather went to get it. It was my Aunt and Uncle. We had all gotten up from the table and were nowhere near the board or the glass. It spelled out "there is a nonbeliever here" and threw itself against the side of the fridge where my great grandmother was sitting.

They still give me the fucking creeps and if you wanna use one, feel free, but this old crone won't do it...

These are a few pictures of the house...If it burnt to the ground, I might feel a bit bad that I didn't do it myself, but not much else...

My sister and I couldn't get in...well we could've...but it wasn't worth going to jail for...the two back decks are new. The stoop on the front is new as well as all the windows and the siding.

I posted these on another site that was dedicated to the paranormal and didn't give any extras, or details and this is what they said... And my replies:

In the first photo, my attention is drawn to the very top window on the right. I don't know why, but I keep looking at that window.

In the last photo I seem to get the feeling of a small child running around and playing with a fairly large ball on that top verandah/porch/deck whatever it's called. I can't make out if it's a boy or a girl - probably somewhere between 6 and 9 yrs old, I think (I find it hard to judge a person's age).

That's all I'm getting, sorry.

Thanks, Theadebra...I'll see if more people want to chime in before I give the answer.

Looking again.

On the second floor with the tree windows - the window on the extreme left, I think there is a woman standing there. I get the feeling of young-ish, perhaps somewhere in her 30's maybe older. Fairly long hair, swept back from her face. I can't tell if she is waiting for someone or if she is watching the person taking the photos.

Alrighty then, I'll wrap this one up...
This was the house I grew up in.
It was made out of driftwood, supposedly from shipwrecks.
Three people died there: the woman from the original family who had it built, my Great Grandmother and my Mother.
It was never a happy place...there were always undercurrents of sadness and gloom.
My cousin bought the place for dirt cheap from the estate when my Grandfather died.
He's been the one doing all the updating on the place. I think his son would be in that age range, Thea.

On the second floor, the middle and far right windows were my Great Grandmother's room. The far left one was the linen closet, and one I used to crawl out of to get Tiger, our cat, off the roof.

The top floor was the attic and my mother slept there and I did too for all of a day...I heard a BanSidhe and that was that.

There were a few Poltergeist phenomena, one time of red glowing eyes , but most it was just unhappiness.

Even though I'm chiming in on this one, and you already mentioned unhappiness, and I do agree. The first three I felt the feeling of sadness and emptiness, and the last one I felt feelings of frustration. (Even though at this point it would be a bit hard to believe. Because I read your answer before giving you what I felt from the picture)

Though I do want to mention I get the feelings of being somewhat "Secretive", Isolation a bit along the lines of that.

Thanks, Sting.
Isolation was a big part of my and my sister's childhood. We never had friends over, never had friends really. We could never go to anyone's house either.
It was very frustrating living with all the generations there. An estrogen overload.

not looking at anybodys answers the first thing that came to me was screaming, like someone just found someone lying dead in the attic. someone keeps pacing back and forth on the flat roof part, they are pissed about something, i keep thinking maybe its just my eyes and i'm seeing things but i keep seeing a figure near the chimney, its asking for help. 3rd window on the bottom i keep seeing a face.someone pacing on the grass going "oh no! oh no! you gotta help him" cellar door i'm getting alot of screaming, alot of it! someones buried underneath the house, death. fire, screaming, suicide is what i'm getting from this place. i had my roomate look at the pictures he said he cant pick up anything and what i'm picking up is alot of stuff from the past

The house was made originally out of driftwood from shipwrecks. It's gotta be over 100 years old by now. I never ever went into the cellar after dark. Or the attic. One of the stories that we had gotten through a ouija board was that one of the men from the Brinks Job stashed some of his money in the attic.
My mother was found dead in the bathtub on the second floor, not pictured. My great grandmother died in her bedroom on the second floor (in the first pic the windows on the middle and the right.
Suicide doesn't surprise me because that's what I thought my mother did.
We had a fire growing up. The furnace blew up.

wow so i got a few things right! hiiii Spotted, well seeing your house was made from driftwood from shipwrecks i wouldnt be surprised if a spirit or spirits are attached to your home. As far as your mom committing suicide i would say yes she did and pills are coming to mind? someone took alot of pills. wow your furnace blew up??? no wonder i heard a big boom as well as screaming, i thought i was picking up a big thunderstorm, also your mom is on that porch in the last picture she watches over you all the time

To be honest, NOT taking pills, the ones prescribed for her and drinking like a fish was probably what did her in...but an OD wouldn't have surprised me either. There wasn't an autopsy done because my Uncle who was a cop didn't want it.
I think she's probably stuck in the house. If she did commit suicide, it was to make a point and it went too far.

The blonde in the last picture is my twin sister.

thats what i pick up, she didnt exactly mean to kill herself it just went too far and nobody was home to help her out and she was attempting to do it for attention but with the mix of alcohol and whatever she took didnt mix well

We had a few knocking deals, the red glowing eyes staring out from the wall just scared the fuck out of was too Amityville fucking horror...The true last straw came when I had fixed up the upstairs attic bedrooms so that I'd have a place just to get away...I had a room for my desk and a bedroom...well that only lasted as long as one night...until I heard a banshee...I never slept in the attic again... Well you can look at this and think I'm as nutty as a bag of PayDays...fine...but it's true every word...

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

How I found my place on the Medicine Wheel...

Sometimes you find yourself wondering if you're the person you were supposed to be or if you're in the right place on the Wheel...the only one who can decide is you...

It's taken me YEARS to find mine...and I should've known instead of muddling along, falling off the Pollen Path, straying from the Red Road...

Now with my Tsunali (Friends in Cherokee) I have found my place, my focus, my home.

This campfire signifies our community. Everyone is welcome to warm their bones, have some kawi, eat some frybread, listen to songs and stories...

The first two parts of my blog tell about how I met these wonderful folks...

This is the personal part. The one that is the story of how I ended up at the fire...

I lost my way quite early. My head was always in the clouds and my face in a book. I was always searching...didn't know exactly what for...but I found it.

I learned about Vision Quests and Astral Projection...they're quite similar in their way.

Wiki describes a Vision Quest as a Rite of Passage. Very true. Most Native Americans have a version of this. Some use sweat lodges. Some use herbs and other substances to attune the person to the Spirit World. It is where the child gets their grown up name, sometimes their Totem Animal and their ultimate position in life.

Astral Projection is your "soul" leaving your body due to fasting, prayer, meditation, lucid dreaming or even extreme stress.

This was the first and only time that I had done this...I haven't been on a Vision Quest since...

I found myself flying cross the country until a light caught my eye. I swooped down and found a tepee. The flap was open and there was smoke wafting from the smoke hole. I flew in and settled on a rock. This Native American man that I had never met, let alone ever seen, turns from his conversation with the others and welcomes me by saying. "Welcome, WhiteSpottedCrow. I've been waiting for you."

We smoked and talked...I don't remember exactly what about... A while later, at least a year, I was reading my Fate Magazine and there was a picture of the man that I had talked to!!

Floyd "Kanghi Duta(Red Crow)" Westerman! This was before "Dances With Wolves" came out, if I remember correctly also...

I tried to tell my family and they just thought I was a loon...oh well their loss.

A few years later and I had kept this wonderful memory to myself, enjoying recalling the experience as the miraculous and wonderfu event that it was, especially since to the best of my knowledge, I have no Native blood whatsoever.

Even later when I was working too many hours and too many days, I spontaneously astral projected: no funny stuff, no alcohol, no nothing...

I was met outside my window by the HUMUNGOUS jet black buffalo! Not that they're running around loose here. He took me running. And I mean running...for hours and hours, miles and miles...I'd get home when the dawn was breaking physically exhausted, but mentally refreshed. I'd feel the road under my hooves and the wind flying through my Shapeshifting, SkinWalking in Navajo parlance, was part of the deal too.

This happened for months in a row, sometimes every day, sometimes once a week...depending on how stressed out I was. He finally told me his name was "Charger." I had forgotten it until I was selling shoes and the name on the box was Charger Black. You could've knocked me over with a feather!!!

When I worked for World of Science I found out that he was big for a reason...He was a Bison Antiquus. An animal that had been hunted by Paleo-Indians during the last Pleistocene Ice Age...They were 25% larger than today's American Bison. Another link in a chain of events...

Finally, one night, Charger didn't come around...I felt his loss. I did more research and found that some of your totems are with you for life and others come around just when they're needed. Obviously, I NEEDED him at that time...

I have an Aunt, my mother's sister. My mother was adopted so there's no blood relation, but we have always gotten along. She was made an honorary Navajo when she was wandering around the SouthWest. She taught me how to make Dream Catchers. I will ALWAYS be grateful to her for that.

I read up on the culture and found another wonderful "person". Kokopelli, the hunchbacked, always happy to see you, mythical fluteplayer, fertility God of the SouthWest.

Katsinas (kachinas) are another part of the wonderful SouthWestern cultures. I've also learned about the Rotten Belly Tribe of the Plains Indians...the ones who show you how NOT to do things. They'd make noise during ceremonies, just be generally contraries...I think my son is part of this Society...he'd make Mother Theresa wanna pop him one. The Rotten Bellies quite similar to the Koshari (Sacred Clowns) of Hopi Culture.

I've always said Hello to the Eagles/Hawks when I see them. And I say Hi to the snakes in the yard. I even had a family of Crows in the yard for a while. I took a fallen yearling to the Wildlife Centre when noone else would stop. Birds seem to be one of my Totems, along with Bear, Wolf, Dog, Otter, Skunk. I have a chicken as my witch's familiar...

Need I say who rules the roost?

So I continue on my path, wearing my tacky sox, comfy ripped jeans and trying to impart knowledge, peace, healing, humour, as I go...

And by the end of my life, I hope to hear, she was a pain in the ass, but I'll miss her...

Friday, October 22, 2010

More of my Tsunali

JStinson is also known as Joni. She's part Cherokee and Creekand is an enrolled member of the Muskogee Creek Nation. This is her shop on Etsy:
Lotsa eye candy to be drooled over in there.
And she has a blog also.
Where you can see that she's a beautiful outside as she is on the inside.

If Joni is our Mother, then KickingBear is our Father.
He's teaching us the Western dialect of Tsalagi (Cherokee) which we've been soaking up like sponges with pretty good results.

He's also an excellent artist (but don't let Coastal Artist know I said that) One of my favourite goodies in his shop is the Corn Necklace. It represents the Trail of Tears.

Some of my closest buddies in no particular order are:

ClayDancerdesigns who lives in my lovely State of Massachusetts. This is one of my faves from her shop:

Sagehealer who has recently moved cross country. I have this goodie from her shop. Eagle/Hawk is one of my totems.

Brie aka barbie777 She makes these wonderful People:

CandyThomasGourdArts Her gourds are to die for!

SpiritBearCreations. You cannot die until you've had her Leckerlii!

PromisesPromises. She makes the sweetest horses. This one is too me.

FortheBrand. Gorgeous jewelry like this one:

NativeBeads. She WROTE this book. I am jealous.

There's also:

AnimalsandIcons, rekamepip, dalerocks, nikonman, whitebuffalo, sirocco, taxco, timberlineltd, cabinwindow, and many others. There's even some new friends like Vikotas, 4directions, beading4you, handyann, NightOwlMarket.

All of these fine folks and many more will be honouring their ancestors and our campfire family this November 1-21, Native American Month.

There will be sales and promotions and prizes galore.

So pull up a log, wrap up in your Pendelton blankets, toss some branches on the fire, have some frybread and have lots of fun with us...

Thursday, October 21, 2010

My Tsunali (Friends in Cherokee)

This post is for my new, as of last November-ish friends. They say that Like calls to Like and Birds of a Feather and all that...but these people have become even more than friends. They are more of a family...

Last November there was a thread started on the Etsy promo section. A lovely lady who's known as Jstinson there posted this:
"President Obama has declared November to be National Native American Month and November 29 to be National Native American Day."

Sirocco was the first person that she promoted. He does wonderful work with beads and Turquoise. The next person she promoted to bump the thread was herself and her gorgeous beadwork. It rather snowballed from there.

Joni had expected just to have a month where the Native Americans on Etsy, and there's a BUNCH of em to let you know, could promote their items. I came in about page 400 of the first thread...and now we're about halfway through our SIXTH thread.

As we show off our goodies, we've showed off others' goodies too and they've joined in too. We have a core group of a dozen or so that bring kawi (Cherokee for coffee) and eats to our virtual campfire. We have a story time at 8PM-ish Indian Standard Time on Wednesday nights and a Roast of one of our friends every last Thursday of the month.

Some of us lucky folks have gotten to meet each other. That's one of my aims for next summer. I have two tsunali that live in New England. We talk about our families, our pets, our joys and sorrows. Many of us may never meet face to face and we may not all be Native American...but believe me, we walk the Pollen Path/Red Road together and it is all osda.