Revisiting old ghosts

Last week I wrote a story about a presentation at the Washburn Public Library called Wisconsin Ghosts and the Afterlife by Terry Fisk, a paranormal investigator. While I was working on the story, I visited Fisk’s website and saw that his company was sponsoring the Unexplained Conference in Eau Claire the next weekend.
I love a good ghost story as much as anyone and, with Halloween coming up, it seemed like a good adventure to attend the conference. I called my sister, who lives in Iowa, and suggested we meet there and have a Sister’s Halloween Adventure.
Both my sister and I are familiar with spirits, having grown up in a house that featured a resident ghost. Our family has favorite stories about this spectre, like the time he tapped me on the back in the middle of the night, and the many times my mother would awaken in the night and see him staring at her from the foot of her bed.
When my sister mentioned to her partner that she was going to attend the conference with me, he said, “Oh, maybe you can find out about the ghost who likes to watch us sleep everynight.”
So my sister and I got a room at the Plaza Hotel and eagerly joined the crowd for an evening’s entertainment.
The first presenter had written several books about werewolves. Her talk included stories she has collected from people who say they have had encounters with werewolves. She showed sketches of these creatures and pictures of the places where the sightings occurred. However, there were no actual photos of werewolves.
Here’s the thing. I would think that in this age, with people carrying cell phones everywhere, and hand-held digital devices, someone would have the opportunity to snap a photo of a werewolf, or even post a YouTube of their encounter with one. As my sister pointed out, “Anyone can draw a picture of a werewolf and they all look alike. That’s because everyone knows what a werewolf is supposed to look like.” Good point.
It was a fun presentation, but I’m not convinced about the validity of actual living werewolves.
The next presentor talked about re-incarnation. The speaker’s evidence stemmed from studies done with small children who tell stories of their past lives. Some children can describe where they lived, who their parents were, etc. Researchers have recorded these stories, gone to the locations described by the child, and found physical evidence to conclude what the child says is true. The theory is that when we are children, we still remember these past lives. As we get older and more conditioned, we begin to lose those memories.
Here was physical evidence suggesting that re-incarnation is possible. Did the presentor prove that re-incarnation exists? Not really, but he gave a fairly convincing presentation.
The other presentations were about various hauntings, Big Foot sightings, UFOs, and other unexplained occurrences. Are there big foot creatures in the Chequamegon Forest? There are multiple stories of sightings. Again, no photos other than vague shadows or something hairy from a distance. One photo depicting a close-up view of a Big Foot on someone’s critter-camera looked like a neighbor in a gorilla suit.
The next day we went to a Healing and Psychic Fair. There were presentors on past life experiences, spiritual healing and accessing different dimensions of reality. Vendors featured everything from aromatherapy and healing crystals to dowsing and quantum jumping.
Where any of them able to provide absolute proof of the validity of their craft? No.
But, here’s the interesting question. Can I, or anyone else, provide absolute proof that there is no validity to these occurrences? No.
We are left with a conundrum of polarities. No one can prove they exist and no one can prove they do not. There are heated debates on each side. Religious beliefs come into play. It all boils down to what you choose to believe. If one of these therapies helps someone feel better or live a better life, is that a bad thing? I don’t think so.
We know the mind is a powerful thing. We also know that we don’t know everything about the universe we live in, how it works, and all of the different elements that live in it with us.
There is one thing I know for certain after having this experience. Going on a road trip, spending time with my sister and having fun is something I can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt. I don’t need pictures, or scientific evidence. We had a went shopping, experienced new things, and got to spend some quality time together reminiscing about our own paranormal childhood. We met some interesting people, had some laughs, and maybe even expanded our concept of reality a little.
A weekend well spent.

With help from a carpenter

My husband Paul is a carpenter. In his job, the closest he usually gets to saving a life is fixing a roof so it doesn’t fall down on someone’s head. That is, until last Wednesday.
Paul works for the National Park Service. He was on the job fixing an attic at Little Sand Bay when a call came in requiring help with a search and rescue.
“We didn’t have much information,” he said. “Just a radio call saying someone was in the water.”
Why was a carpenter called for a search and rescue? Because it was within park boundaries and they were the closest available personnel.
Personnel with the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore work closely on and around Lake Superior, and she is an unpredictable partner. The National Park Service provides training for park service employees in first aid and CPR. Interested persons can also be trained in search and rescue.
“I’ve done ice search and rescue training but hadn’t trained for anything like what happened that day,” he said.
When the call came in, Paul and the other members of the boat crew scrambled to make sure they had the right equipment and the best information. They knew the search was in the area of the Meyer’s Beach sea caves.
“It’s exciting at that point. The adrenaline is flowing. This could be important,” he said.
Paul has been on two other search and rescue missions that were non-eventful and mostly provided a break in the routine of the day. Once in the boat, if you aren’t the boat operator, there isn’t much to do but be patient.
“We had three boats going out and we still weren’t sure what we were looking for,” he said. “It could have been a kayak overturned. We didn’t know.”
The three boats arrived at the estimated point and Paul’s boat was instructed to slow down and get close to shore heading east. Information also came in from a member of the team on shore.
“Radio communication can be spotty out there so we have someone on shore who can often see things we can’t,” said Paul. “At this point, I’m part of a three-boat team. Chances are we aren’t going to be the ones who do the rescue. We are just part of the team.”
Chances were different this time. Though another boat was the first to find the victim in the water and throw him a life preserver, it was the boat Paul was in that was best suited to do the actual rescue.
“The guy had fallen into the water from the cliff above and he was able to get himself to the edge and was standing in a small cave, ankle deep in water, and trying to hold on,” said Paul. “There’s no shoreline there, nowhere for him to go. By the time we got there, he was shaking pretty hard and he was only a few minutes from falling into the water. I think he knew it was life or death if someone didn’t get to him.”
Paul could hear the man saying, “Please hurry!”
The boat Paul was in had a ramp in the front that could be lowered, making it easier to get a person out of the water. While Abby, the boat operator, maneuvered the boat in the choppy water, Paul went to the front of the boat and grabbed a line in his left hand.
“When we get close, you grab my hand and I’ll grab yours,” he called to the man. The man stepped toward the ramp and their hands met.
“I yanked him into the boat,” said Paul. “I didn’t want to lose him and have to try again.”
Once in the boat, the man collapsed.
In another boat was a ranger who was also a paramedic. Blankets were thrown from boat to boat and then the boat operators had to again maneuver to get the two boats close enough for the ranger to get into the boat with the rescued victim, who was then transported back to the waiting ambulance at Little Sand Bay.
Successful rescue, a life saved — now what do you do?
“We did what most people would do,” said Paul. “We re-hashed the whole thing over several times.”
I’m proud of my husband. I think he’s a hero, but he is a bit more modest.
“It wasn’t me. It was us,” he said. “Everything worked out right. Having good boat operators and being available was what saved him. In a rescue like this one, we had what we needed, three good boat operators with the ability to get that close to the rocks without hurting the person in the water. Abby did a wonderful job. I think perfect is good enough.”
He also credits someone else for the success of the mission.
“This guy was saved by the grace of God that day,” said Paul. “He got too close to the edge and started to slide down the bank. He thinks he fell about 40 feet into the water and he didn’t get hurt. There were people on the bank with cell phones who were able to call for help and we were available.”
Saved by the grace of God and the help of a carpenter.

Magic in the printed word

I love books. I love the tactile sense of the paper in my hands and the smell of the ink. I love the potential held inside the two covers of a new book and the anticipation of the adventure I’ll find inside.
I work for a newspaper and I’m an author of two books. I have a stake in the printed word.
So, why did I buy a Kindle?
For those of you who haven’t discovered the Kindle, it is a hand-held device used for reading books in electronic format. My new Kindle holds 3,500 books in the palm of my hand.
Over the weekend I met Don Carlos Barrios, a Mayan elder and shaman, at a ceremony near Madison. When I got home and searched the internet, I discovered he has written a book titled the Book of Destiny. His book provides information about Mayan prophecies about 2012 and the Mayan calendar. I decided it sounded like an interesting book so I checked to see if it was in Kindle format. It was.
Here’s the amazing thing: with one click of a button on my computer I ordered the book in electronic format. While I turned off my computer and put my dogs to bed, the book was automatically downloaded to my Kindle (which wasn’t even turned on). I got into bed, turned on the device and began to read the book. All of this happened within about ten minutes and the only factor that slowed down the process was putting my dogs to bed.
It has to be magic.
As I began to read, Barrios was describing the new age of consciousness that is part of the Mayan prophecy of 2012. He speaks of the fifth sun which will bring the human consciousness into alignment with the ether world, the world of the unseen.
It feels like we are already there. How else can we explain the magic of the entire contents of a book flying through the air from one computer to the next in less than a minute? How does the information know where to land? This transmission is faster than the speed of sound or light.
With my Kindle, I can carry with me the entire collection of Charles Dickens writings, every Sherlock Holmes book written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the complete stories of Edgar Allan Poe. And the device weighs only 8.3 ounces.
Any avid reader can understand why I now say “I love my Kindle.”
I have not forsaken printed books. I still have my library of treasures at home and I’m sure I will continue to add to it.
In these times of ether world magic, it is still important to give our children the experience of reading a book they can hold in their hands. I don’t want to lose the image of my pajama wearing grandbaby cuddled up in her mother’s lap while having her favorite picture book read to her. A Kindle can’t give my grandbaby the sensation of touching the fur piece attached inside her book about animals, or the experience of seeing the colors of all her favorite books lined up on her bookshelf.
I still like the experience of reading an old book and finding a personal note hand-written in the margins, or having a small piece of paper fall out of the back of the book with an old grocery list on it. I like tattered edges and folded pages.
And I like things that help bring literacy to new levels. This is the image I hold for these new electronic readers. In this busy world we live in, being able to carry an entire library of books in the pocket of your coat just might encourage young people to read more. It can certainly lessen the load of the backpacks children carry. Being able to adjust the type size with the click of a button might mean that elders and people with limited sight will be able to continue to read.
Yes, I have a stake in the printed word, and I also have a stake in preserving our mother earth. The more books I read on my Kindle, the more trees we have to beautify our world and create the oxygen we breathe.
Which, to me, is another form of magic.

Opening the doorway

This past weekend I pulled my Turtle (small camper) down to the Horse First Farm in Brooklyn WI for the Holistic Horse Fair. I had reserved a booth space for my books and to do some storytelling about First Peace.
The horse fair was a very nice one. I've been to larger horse fairs, like the ones in Madison and Minneapolis, but this one was different. At the larger horse fairs, there are many more people, thousands of people in fact. However, as a vendor, I sat and watched them walk by like zombies, heads bowed, feet shuffling, no smiles. It was actually quite depressing.
At the Holistic Horse Fair it was the opposite. People came and walked around looking at things, talking with people, and smiling.
Could it be that when you claim a holistic, and more natural approach to your relationship with your horse, it changes your whole outlook on life? I think so.
The fair closed Sunday at 5 p.m. and the vendors all packed up and left. I was staying on the property in my camper until the next day. As I walked around, the silence had a lonely quality to it. As I stopped and said hello to the horses, and opened to the beauty of the fall colors and the smell of the earth, that loneliness faded away.
It is the transition from two days of busy and interaction with other humans, to an evening of solitude and silent community with the land and the horses. A lovely experience.
"True presence is the doorway to the great mystery."
I'm glad I opened that doorway.

Learning his 'umwelt'

I stand shivering in the dew-covered grass of evening, while my dog Rocky excitedly sniffs each blade of grass and piece of dirt. The leash in my hand pulls taut when Rocky reaches for a new smell, just out of the boundary of his confinement.
“Rocky, we’re out here to do your business,” I remind him.
A noise catches his attention and Rocky strains against me, panting and looking out into the hayfield. I can hear a deer shuffling across the high grass of the field. When the deer breaks into a run, Rocky jumps straight up and begins to bark.
“OK, we may as well go back in,” I say.
Obviously, no “business” will be conducted on this trip. Rocky and I had different agendas. Mine was to go out for some quick, before-bed dog business, and Rocky’s was a thorough investigation of the yard and potential romp through the woods.
I blame his “umwelt.”
Umwelt is a new term in my vocabulary thanks to the book I’m reading, “Inside of a Dog” by Alexandra Horowitz. She describes the dog’s umwelt as “their self world,” or “what life is like as the dog.”
Horowitz has a PhD in cognitive science and has studied dogs and other animals. Her book takes us into the umwelt of the dog, from its serious sense of smell to whether or not the dog understands the concept of right and wrong.
Horowitz contends that dogs understand humans much better than humans understand dogs. She attributes this to the dog’s continual observation of those humans in his life. Dogs watch us constantly. They understand minute movements in our expressions and habits that we may not be aware we are enacting. This level of attention allows the dog to read us like a psychic with a crystal ball.
Since reading this book, I’ve been paying more attention to the motions I make and what reaction I get from Rocky when I do them.
For example, all I have to do is move my hand toward my pocket, whether it be pants pocket or coat pocket, and I have Rocky’s attention. He has not only figured out that my hand in my pocket means a treat, but he knows the slightest motion of my hand toward my pocket is a good sign of the same intention. This works great when my intention is to give him a treat, but not so great when all I want to do is warm up my hand. Either way, I have a dog in front of me with an expectant look on his face.
I don’t think he believes me when I explain there are no treats in the pocket this time. I get “the look,” as if he knows I’m withholding something that is rightfully his.
Horowitz also gives advice on how to have a smoother relationship with your dog.
Many people take their dogs for walks, but are we walking for our benefit, or for the dog’s? From the dog’s point of view, or umwelt, a walk doesn’t have to be all the way around the block at a brisk pace. Most often, the dog would prefer what Horowitz calls a “smell walk.” A smell walk allows the dog to stop wherever he wants and sniff for as long as it takes to get the information he needs from the scent. Even if you only get 100 feet away and come back, to the dog, it’s a successful walk if he now knows all the dog gossip of that 100 feet. Pulling the dog along before his investigation is complete is like walking past a table at a restaurant and hearing, “and then the greatest thing happened when….’”
We are left forever wondering what that greatest thing was, just as the dog is left wondering when we pull him away from the local fire hydrant.
Sunday was a beautiful fall day to experiment with a smell walk. My husband and I took Rocky and Lisha for a walk on a wooded trail behind our farm. I observed the difference between Rocky’s idea of a walk and Lisha’s. Lisha is a hound mix and runs along the trail with her nose down. Rocky likes a good sniff too, but he is more apt to run along the trail with his eyes up. Rocky is more of a seeing and hearing dog, especially when it comes to squirrels and birds. So instead of stopping to let Rocky get the entire sniff message, I found myself stopping while he focused his eyes and ears on things in the woods. Different dog, different umwelt.
Horowitz also urges humans to learn to accept their canine companion’s “dogness.”
We often bring a dog into our home and expect the dog to act like a small human, when what they know how to do so well is to act like a dog.
I learned this lesson from my sister’s Alaskan malamute, Raven. Some time ago, my sister was having “trouble” with Raven and asked me to speak with him. Since I do animal communication, I was happy to oblige. Raven explained his problem.
“I’m a big dog,” he said. “She needs to let me be a big dog.”
Yes, Raven is a big dog, and as a big dog sometimes he doesn’t fit in tight places. He has a loud bark and a need to explain himself in lengthy terms. He takes up space when he lies in the middle of a room and he dribbles water from his lengthy chin when he drinks.
Now, I am trying to understand the world from the point of view of my German shepherd/herder mix Rocky. I need to understand Rocky’s dogness.
Rocky has energy and curiosity. Rocky loves to run and to herd things. This means I can’t expect Rocky to lie around in the yard unsupervised and be content like my dog Lisha does. Rocky needs something to do. I can either provide that something, or I can learn to not complain when Rocky finds something to do on his own. Preferred activities in Rocky’s mind could involve following the trail of a porcupine, chasing deer, visiting the neighbors, or rolling on a dead mouse for an hour.
Understanding his “dogness” has led me to rethink my meaning of good dog and bad dog. I’m seeing that to punish a dog for being a dog does not make a good human/dog relationship. I need to save my discipline for the really serious infractions, like biting or doing business in the house. For the smaller annoyances, re-directing Rocky’s enthusiasm works better than discipline.
“A complex animal cannot be explained simply,” says Horowitz.
Indeed.

Cooking vs. knitting

Previously I mentioned watching the movie 'Julie and Julia', in which a woman vowed to cook every recipe in Julia Child's cookbook. Since then, I've been looking for a similar challenge, just for fun. This weekend, I picked my challenge, knitting.
I received a book titled "Viva Poncho' as a gift. It has 20 patterns for ponchos, capes and capelets. I have decided to knit every pattern in that book over the next year. I have a head start as I've already knit four of the patterns.
I'm sure there were some recipes Julie had to cook that she didn't especially like, but doing 'all' of them doesn't let you pick and choose. Similarly, there are a few patterns in the Viva Poncho book that aren't to my taste. For these, I will have to chose a prettier yarn, or a different texture to make the finished piece better.
I wonder if Julie substituted different ingredients in Julia's recipes? Is this cheating? or is it being creative?
In the movie, the woman kept a blog about her cooking. I suppose I could do that, but knitting isn't always as exciting as cooking. It's more of a meditative activity for me. I can imagine boring blog posts like "Today I knit two rows."
Of course, there will probably be some exciting times, like "today I had to rip out three inches.'
However, I suppose I will offer photos here of the finished projects, and an occasional post about my progress.
To start with, I am knitting a one-piece poncho called Carson. I am using Cascade 220 in a dark green heather and size five needles. This one will take a while, but it is the one that I have kept going back to the book to look at, wanting to make it.
At the very least, this project will help me put a dent in my overflowing yarn stash.

Three wheels and a big dog

Like many people, I spent Labor Day weekend in a campground, Brunet Island State Park. It was the annual Grandma’s Camping Weekend, when my sister Linda, her daughter Sarah and my grandbaby Wren get together for a girls only camping adventure.
We all met at the campground on Thursday afternoon. Brunet Island State Park is a beautiful place near Cornell, surrounded by the Chippewa River. The campground is filled with large hemlocks, maples and other trees, squirrels, deer and several raccoons.
When we arrived, there was only one other camper in the southern part of the campgrounds were we had our space reserved. All the other campsites were tagged as reserved, but we were the only ones who braved the cold and rain on that night. A few more stragglers came in during the continued rain on Friday, and by Saturday, when the rain stopped, the campground began to fill up.
Most campsites were quite similar. Standard equipment was usually a pull-behind camper and some sort of recreational equipment like bikes, canoes, or kayaks. Quite a few campers brought the family dog along. Add a fire ring and a picnic table and you have a typical camp setup. Families gather by the fire and chat while the children ride the bikes or search the nearby woods for treasures. Meals are cooked over the fire and eaten at the picnic table.
Our campsite was similar, with a few exceptions that drew curious campers to either stop by or walk by with their necks craned in our direction.
We had three wheels and a big dog.
The three wheels I’m referring to weren’t on the camper, or the SUV that pulled it. These were spinning wheels. My sister, my niece and I are all into fiber. We knit, weave and spin. So, for grandma’s camping weekend, we each brought our spinning wheel. While the other campers were hiking or canoeing, we were sitting around our campfire spinning fiber into yarn.
On occasion, I’d bring out my hand drum or native flute and add some music to the mix.
It wasinteresting to watch, out the corner of my eye, as the neighboring campers passed by. Conversations stopped, heads turned, and some people stopped walking to watch. We smiled and greeted them, and kept spinning. Children pointed and asked the grown-ups what we were doing. Dogs shifted their noses in our direction, sniffing the scent of sheep coming off my freshly carded fiber.
One woman was brave and came into our campsite with her husband.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to spin,” she said. “When I retire and have more time, I’m going to try it.”
“Here, sit down and try it now,” offered my sister.
The woman sat down and had a mini-spinning lesson while her husband watched. I walked over and talked to the man about his dog, trying to keep him occupied.
“I may need to go walk the dog and come back later,” he said, obviously sensing his wife’s pre-occupation.
She spun for a bit, then returned to her husband, vowing to visit a fiber fair soon to try out different kinds of spinning wheels. I explained that she should be prepared to learn to knit or crochet so she had something to do with all the yarn she would be making. I didn’t tell her about the urge to buy a loom and learn weaving too. We’ll let her discover that one later, once she has the full fiber addiction.
There were those passers-by who seemed uninterested in the spinning project. However, most of them offered comments on “that big dog.”
My sister has an Alaskan Malamutenamed Raven. He is probably only about 80 pounds, but when you add in all of his soft, fluffy fur, he looks like about 140 pounds. His feet are as big as the palm of my hand.
“That’s such a beautiful dog.”
“Is that a husky?”
“Mommy, look at that dog.”
These were some of the comments we were used to. Raven is a friendly dog and his older age means he’s not as exuberant as younger dogs. He doesn’t jump on people or bark much, so he’s a perfect dog for curious people.
On occasion, we would need to get up from our spinning and take Raven and Wren for a walk, giving the campers in the farther out sites a chance to marvel at ‘the big dog.’
Wren is three years old, so she had her occasional ‘melt downs,’ which is what we call a bought of temper. However, with all the other children in camp, melt downs were a common occurrence all over, nothing to draw anyone’s attention.
It was the three wheels and the big dog that added a different twist to the weekend.