Sewing and Scratching and Skeptics

Whew, I am sewing like a crazy person....hmm, perhaps that is more appropriate that I realized.  Anyway, we finally are sleeping in our own beds.  Of course, I am having a difficult time finding the bathroom.  Shouldn't there be some standard placement for toilets? I mean, it would be so much easier to adjust moving from one hotel to the other, one hotel to home, if the bathrooms were always to the right of the bed....or to the left.... or....whatever.  I mean, it gets very close to "puddle" sometimes...TMI????????

I had one day between trips so I took the time to do some yard work.  Need I say, desperately needed yard work?  The yard punished me by sharing its "stash."  Yard stash came in the form of poison ivy, wasp stings, and horsefly biting.  I have been itching to the point of bruising and bleeding for almost two weeks.  I called my son who is trained in Asian medicine and asked him to please put together some of his magic potions. This worked out nicely since we were heading immediately down to Houston to see him and his lovely bride.  Little by little my skepticism is dwindling on this method of medicine.  My preset mindset of "Skeptic" is putting it gently.  Shame on me.  Within less than 24 hours of taking the first dose, my poison ivy was drying up.  Normally, I have this scratching/itching/insanity for weeks and weeks.  It's a miracle!  Apologies are definitely in order.  I feel a new religion coming and I can see some door-knocking-preaching-to-the-masses in my future.

One of the other interesting things that we did while in Houston was visit a psychic.  Several words come to mind here, as well, and, again, Skeptic was high on the list.  Whatever my beliefs, it was interesting to say the least.  The psychic was the most lovely of men, gentle, and sincere.  Without knowing us at all, he described my mother to a T.  He talked, first, to Brandy, addressing many of her issues.  Then, suddenly, he began to write, frantically, and when we asked what was happening he said it was my sister talking.  We said, "To whom?"  He pointed to me.  When he stopped writing, this is what he had written:

                Dianne, my darling girl - you have done such a fine job with your own life, and 
     your family.  I suppose I could hunt around for something to improve on, but I wouldn't
     have you change a thing.

               You sparkle as you walk, and you leave behind you a trail of stars and dusty light, 
     ever so easy for me to see, no matter where I go.  Thank you for that, for we can always 
     see you, and so I always know where you are.  I am so glad you are having so much fun 
     now.  It's your time.

              Now you know, I wanted to work with you.  But, in the end, I guess I really didn't.  
     Pink dress...Remember that pink dress?  You looked better in it than I did, but I still would
     have liked to wear it.  Your whole life has been a pretty, pink dress, and I hope you know 
     how lucky you are this time around.  I know it.  I've always known it.  And I love you for it. 



What else can I add other than perhaps miracles do happen.......