Archive for March, 2012

There is more to our story…

March 28, 2012

3/28/12

I am heartened today by the fact that I have discovered there are more still alive involved in this, than originally thought. You see… over the past three years I have worried that too many of those involved had passed; their information and input forever lost. Then of course I met R and that all changed. Though several have passed, most have stepped to the plate with information from the other side. I know that makes many of you squeamish and that tickles me so.

Why?

Because I am constantly amazed at religious folks who raise the roof with praise and prayers to a deity they claim can do all things and that all things are possible with faith in that deity… and yet they default and doubt! They who claim all things are possible, then scream impossible from the roof tops when I speak about this case and are minus the faith necessary to honor their own definitions of faith. It’s such a George Carland kind of thing! It is so obvious on Sundays or Wednesdays and and yet it escapes them the rest of the week. They spout  the miracles of faith and then vomit nothing but limitations out of fear. See where I am going here?

I can tell you this story is real. That Charley was real… that the other victims in this case were real and while you will concede that they lived and died… that there is a Heaven and a Hell, you leave them no remedy to reach beyond and either teach of of the glories or warn us of the flames! Why on Sundays can you believe Lazarus was raised from the dead and yet not afford the same on Tuesday to the MOT? Or Jessica? Or Roxanne? Or my beloved friend, Charley? Each of them and their souls raised from the grave to find resolution… to grant forgiveness… to make amends… to adjust Karma and find another path for their soul’s evolution?

How can you speak to a deity through prayer each night before you sleep, asking for support and guidence  and not beg the same of your deceased grandmother the next morning at the kitchen sink in the same fashion? Why would a deity so omnipotent and compassionate force us to forget in death what it so strongly begged us to learn to love in life? Do we believe to see? Or see to believe?

Ok… I will jump off my soap box, but I have to say that folks who pooh-pooh the connection with the afterlife will suffer the loss of loved ones without the redemptive salve and blessings of continuing that relationship after and I grieve for those who never come to know the peace this process has brought me.

Enough said…

Knowing that some key players are still alive keeps me pleased, as it would have made little sense that Charley would have gone to all this trouble to challenge only the dead to rise to a higher vibration. Now this may come as a shock to you, but I am trying a new approach to this. Do I abhor the actions taken by men and women whose sense of greed and sexual perversion far exceeds the norm? Absolutely! But I am trying to find a way to come at this from another angle… to help the guilty release their guilt, make peace with what they have done and confess before they stand eternally beside the shooter at the water’s edge, unable to rinse the blood of innocents  from their hands.

I want and ask for their confessions; for them to give up the ghost, so to speak and tell the truth now before it must be dragged from them by others far less compassionate than I. Why? Because I have promised to make good out of bad… to make joy out of sorrow and peace out of chaos. And… I  have vowed not to let this thing die no matter the cost! Those of you who know me, know that I am dogged in my determination and unrelenting in my pursuits.  But more importantly, because it is too late for any of us to turn back and though in the end it serves my purpose too… the fruits of collective efforts should come from a place of something more divine than merely justice.

We are in the final days… not of 2012, but of The Coffee Pot Conspiracy. Charley’s story will be a part of my story; my story part of his and together we will tell the tale of a loving man who got caught up in the midst of other’s people’s sludge and sins. A man who walked blindly into a den of thieves and sycophants who treated young women without regard and defiled both their bodies and their legacies. A man who approached middle age with doubts and fears, who lost and found his way back home at the edge of a gun… just like me.

There is more to our story than you will ever know…

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Was I meant to tie them for her?

March 26, 2012

 

 

3/26/12

 

This has been an exhausting month and it still isn’t over yet. I had a dream last night that a little girl with untied shoes brought me a feather and placed it in my hair. I knew what the feather meant…that there was a special message or event on its way, but the significance of the untied shoes remained unvetted. Was I meant to tie them for her? Was I to teach her how to do this for herself? Or was this a metaphor for the winding down of this case?

It feels as the strings on a shoe are being pulled tighter and tighter to make a better fit and we are just at the point where the rabbit rushes through the hole to bind the knot! Are you ready? Can you not feel the build within this case?

 

There are just a few things now that tug at my brain. The man in Hazel’s journal who badgered about the location of the bag which contained the lighter. Now that I feel somewhat certain as to the owner of the lighter… the word conspiracy rings true louder than ever.

 

How does a three dollar lighter bring fear and terror to so many? Where was it found? Who took it to the pawn shop and why? How did Charley know to buy it? And how did they know that he had?

 

You know… for a long time I thought the watch that Roxanne was talking about was one between her and the MOT. But now it appears she was trying to tie the watch to the pipe smoker…the man she lay with. The man she said something to, to make him snap. The man who ultimately placed his hands around her throat as the others kicked and held her down. The man who walked the shoreline days after her strangulation and pretended not to know how her body ended up in the water. The man who stood above the rolling waves as the sunlight glinted off his watch and blurred in the smoke that filled the air.  The man who Charley said I would find if I just looked in the car. The man who Charley confirmed with a game of Tic-Tac-Toe. The man who now squirms within a body he no longer controls…

 

The circle begins to shrink.

The 4 in flannel:

The shooter who cannot wash the blood from his hands

The man with the muddy boots who walks the streets

The pipe smoker who wrote the checks

And Grim… who told them all what to do!

 

 

The shoe laces begin to tighten just a bit more… Ahhhhhhhh. The perfect fit! The knot is bound and so are their fates!

I asked Charley for a few…

March 24, 2012

3/23/12

The other day was my three year anniversary on this case, so I asked Charley for a few Anniversary presents!

Yesterday I got them!

A camel colored coat, a watch, a lighter, a phone call and a game of TIC-TAC-TOE!

When is the best time…

March 22, 2012

3/22/12

I have a riddle for you…

When is the best time to buy DEPENDS?

 

When you’re GUILTY!

It also records something else…

March 20, 2012

3/20/12

Today is the Spring Equinox… meant for endings and new beginnings and it is. While relationships and personal portraits wax and wane for some, there is a glimmer of hope on the horizon that new things and nothings may be just what the doctor ordered. In the meantime, we must prepare ourselves and take the time to look deep within to see what works in our lives and what does not. Those things that bring us to our knees; our doubts, our fears, our angst’s and our excuses for not living our dreams must be dragged to the curb and left out for the garbage trucks to pick up and take away.

I have learned in this last move that I carried things with me for fear that I would someday need them and be found without. It was a tremendous weight; the extra furniture, the extra bedding and sheets, superfluous paintings and knick knacks…things and stuff, stuff and things that bind us to the past and to people who not longer grace our lives. Now I look around in this new smaller space and think; I have everything I truly wanted for myself and am surrounded by the most favorite of the favorite. I have my family, my dogs, my paintings, my books… a fireplace, a desk, a view and a purpose. It feels good to live smaller- think bigger and I recommend it to everyone. What are you waiting for? Stop wasting time and wasting your space in life. Live in a smaller footprint, but make a bigger impact!

School has begun again and I am pressed for time. When it comes to the book, I dabble- waiting for something to happen I cannot put my finger on. When it comes to Charley…I know he is still with me. Hazel remains solid and stable at his side. The MOT somewhat elusive. The shooter is till washing blood from his hands. G? She has made her appearances and has little left to say, I fear. As for my dear, Miss M? I miss her and wish she would drop by as I found her quite a character; carefree and engaging. As for Roxanne? She is my constant companion these days. I can feel her beside me and I long to hug the shoulders of that child and tell her I will bring her home soon. Jessica still circles the camp, close but not as close as Roxanne- ‘but I am here for you too,’ I tell her and smile.

Life has been full of disappointments and abrupt endings of late and as I help my own girls ride such rifts in their affairs, I reflect on these two young women and wish to bring them inside the fold. They could have been mine… they are now mine, and I will not leave them forgotten and alone. I cannot. It is something inside me that needs to gather and protect such orphans. Roxanne took R by the hand the other day and took her under water…then two days later she brought to my attention an interesting photo.

The 1970’s were my Baby Boomer years. Great music, great adventures, ridiculous fashions and hideous glasses that everybody and his brother wanted to wear. You know, the big yellowed egg looking things. Like tinted aviator glasses on steroids, men in silk shirts and pleated bell bottoms wore these above lap dance mustaches they thought sexy. Do you remember those days? That’s why I love photos. They capture us in the most vulnerable or bodacious moments of our lives. Silly moments when we smile for the sake of smiling… for the sake of saving memories, for the sake of chronicling our family and friends, for the sake of work ID’s for security reasons…for the sake of fun, for the sake of sadness.

Photos for every facet and fancy of our lives…a chance to chronicle our evolutions in Kodacrome. They are also a way to record the evolution of features; from toothless grins to geriatric grimaces. From the color of our eyes to the color of our hair, the blush on our cheeks and the peeks of our wrinkles! It also records something else…scars.

Scars received from the hands of innocents as they fought back.

Have a nice day, Grim.

And what of the eagle?

March 16, 2012

3/15/12

 

So much has happened in the last few days and my schedules have been so booked that I have literally left the house in the dark and returned in the dark and had no time in between to breathe or to take a moment to sit and write.

The article came out Monday and as usual those who cannot extend their minds beyond the immediate and obvious found fault with what I do. It is all right for them to scoff… the joke will be on them later. As for the case, some interesting things have begun to happen.

Roxanne pulled R under water to show her who stood upon the shore… the law enforcement uniforms shadowed by a tall man in a camel colored coat who wore a watch with the initials _________. This same man owned a lighter which Charley bought 3 days before he died from the Morris Pawn Shop. Roxanne was very upset when he stood upon the shore and acted as though he knew nothing of how she ended up under water…especially since he was there when they dumped her into it. And there are other things too, like the pipe smoke in the parking lot when there was nobody there beside me. Was that you Mr. 4th in flannel? The Pipe Smoker?

And what of the eagle? I have seen him three times now and yesterday a huge white feather. Another message is on its way.

Here’s an interesting tid bit of info for you. Do you know how many times somebody Googled the phrase:  remains under water?

I do.

You’ve been busy this week, Grim. You, Einstein and the farmer. Be careful… someone might be watching.

Some one other than me.

Maybe even more than one…

 

Sleep tight.

And we all know what that means, don’t we?

March 12, 2012

 

 

3/12/12

 Something special was bound to happen today!

Why?

First and foremost because…

It is my father’s Birthday. So Happy Birthday daddy! Have a slice of cake in heaven for me!

Second… because two pairs of chocolate brown eyes now smile again; a daughter’s and her German Shepherd puppy’s.

Third… because an article about this book just came out!

Fourth… because I saw an Eagle yesterday!

And we all know what that means, don’t we?

Justice is not far behind us now!

I just heard a song…

March 10, 2012

3/10/12

This afternoon is the seminar with John Edward.

I just heard a crazy song in a silly movie called, “Route 30” my husband is snoring through.

A song that started…

“Don’t ever hit grandma in the head with a shovel… it will leave a bad impression on her mind!”

Maybe Jessica has something more to say than we think???

In yet another, I continue to see the number of…

March 9, 2012

3/9/12

 I have written mostly of the fluff and flavor of life of late and feel as though I have betrayed a small portion of my readers in doing so. So let me break from recent tradition and tell you that I have had many odd dreams of late. In one, another door opens which brings me great hope. In yet another, I continue to see the number of the ______________ rush across the screen of my cell phone. It flashes incessantly at me, telling me I have an urgent message. I also see something R has described to me of late.

Small silver blades that dovetail and spring from the ends of fingers meant to do someone great bodily harm. They are the weapons of Marshall Arts or Hollywood’s favorite Wolverine. Who bears such nifty little toys of destruction? Who might carry and covet such weapons of passion… for kid yourself naught. Maiming and ripping the flesh of another is most definitely an intimate and passionate crime… for you cannot get any closer or more personal than to defame and defile the epithelium of another.

So who are you, Wolverine? Or are you already known to me by another name?

 Is it you who winds threads from doors to doors, like a spider coiling his web to catch the errant fly? Or you who cans and peddles her wares while she watches from generational windows and waits to tell what she has seen? Maybe you once worked in a bakery… or is it you, who now works within the medical profession, whose father once saw and recorded another’s deeds for profit?

Think dear children… for they walk among you every day and you know naught what lurid history they drag behind them, as you smile and wish them well.

The clock has begun to wind down and the murders run around in circles, like in a game of musical chairs.

After almost 46 years chairs have been removed as each player dies. We are down to just a handful now that can still step to the plate and tell the truth.

Who will be brave? Who will be sly? Who is foolish enough to think I do not already know which amongst you has already spilled the beans? Who will sit in the hot seat once the music has stopped?

Ready… go!

“Here we go ‘round the Mulberry bush, the Mulberry bush, the Mulberry bush… Here we go ‘round the Mulberry bush… so early in the morning!”

STOP!

We are down to four chairs.

Go…STOP…GO…STOP…GO…STOP…

One chair left!

Who is in the hot seat now?

Do you know who that is?

March 9, 2012

3/8/12

 

On Saturday I am going to see the grand Pooh-Bah of mediums, John Edward. I can hardly wait to see who comes through. I am asking Charley to invite the gang along to watch! Roxanne, Jessica, the MOT, Miss M, the B-man, G, the shooter, the pipe-smoker, the drinker and the farmer!

Should be a Hell of a party, don’t cha think?

Just can’t wait to see who else might show! There is someone new I wish to speak to, though.

Do you know who that is?

It’s a person by the name of _____________________.

I can keep a secret… can you?


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