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I’m Not Superstitious !?

Of course I'm not superstitious!  My fingers are crossed only because my hands are cold.

Of course I’m not superstitious.  My fingers are crossed only because my hands are cold!…

But how about you?

Hello – I’m a black cat.  Do you love me or do you fear me?

1.  BLACK CATS

Superstitions abound all over the world; not just about black cats, but about almost anything you can imagine.  But we will start with the much-maligned black cat.  

  • Edgar Allen Poe owned a black cat.  He was quite devoted to it, and often used a black cat in his writings.
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  • Black cats are are found liberally sprinkled throughout all kinds of literature, from the classics to modern day books, movies, television, blogs, and tweets.  One of my favorites is an old movie with Kim Novak as a witch and a sleek black cat as her familiar.
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  • In many cities, you cannot adopt a cat from a shelter during the month of October to protect the animals from mean or reckless Halloween pranks
  • Black cats are worshipped in India, believed to be good luck.
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  • It is considered good luck to have a black cat in your house as a pet, but if a different black cat crosses your path, it then brings bad luck.
  •  Witches are believed to have black cats as companions or “familiars.”  The cats are used to spy on people and to help cast spells.  Some witches have other animals as their familiars.  Crows and other black birds and fierce black dogs are not uncommon.
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Get me to the church on time!

2.     WEDDINGS “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue” is just one of many superstitions about weddings, as well as the bride tossing the bridal bouquet over her shoulder in the belief that the lucky flower catcher will herself get married within the year. Many others include:

  • Don’t get married in a leap year or on a Saturday.  Sunday marriages are destined for good fortune.
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  • Rain on the wedding day means very good luck pertaining to becoming wealthy in the future. 
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  • Oh, here’s a good one! If the bride looks at the groom through the wedding ring, he will always be faithful to her.  Divorce lawyers would cry into their beers if this were true!  Worth a try, though.
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  • Brides wear white to suggest that they are virgins.  The origin of this superstition comes from “the old days” when the bride BETTER be a virgin or else.  In arranged marriages, the father often “sold” his young daughters to the highest bidders based on their virginity and their attractiveness.  In modern times, the bride wears white in order to stand out from other females in the wedding.  For instance, the bridesmaids might wear the famous seafoam green gowns. It is not necessarily bad luck, but certainly bad taste, for another woman in the wedding party to wear white.  This is the bride’s day.
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  • 3. Funerals:

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  • The silliest one I can think of is “the good die young.” Some idiot made that up, and it stuck.  But obviously, age and good or evil natures do not apply to death.  I kind of wish that the BAD would die young.  Then, we might not have so many murderers and child molesters living to a ripe old age.
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    •  I like this one:  if you hear a clap of thunder just after the funeral, that sound is the deceased entering heaven. There are so many funeral superstitions from all over the world, so I can only mention some of the more interesting ones.
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    • Death comes in threes. This especially applies to celebrities. Whenever a famous person dies, everyone is waiting for the two other shoes to drop. And sure enough, it seems to happen, depending on how liberal your definition of “celebrity” is.
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    • Some people believe that birds are portents of death. For instance, if you see an owl during the daytime or hear an owl hoot, someone you know will die. If a wild bird flies into your house, yes, another portent of death. (Or a need to get window screens and keep the door closed.) If a bird sits on your window sill and looks in, it is looking for the one next to die. But if you keep a bird in the house as a pet, it is thought to bring good luck.
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    • If you are sitting or standing at a gravesite and a butterfly lights on your hands or shoulder, it is the deceased saying goodbye to you. (This actually happened to me, and I did not know what it meant.)
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    • I can’t find a decent picture of a ladder.  Please use your psychic powers to conjure one up. You can do it, see? ,
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  •  4. Ladders, walking under, “Oh, let’s go do that!…Maybe a hammer will fall on our heads or maybe we’ll step on a nail.” Common sense, where art thou? There are many more accidents caused by falling off a ladder than walking under them. And people get hurt all the time while trying to climb the ladder to success.
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    • Climbing the ladder to heaven is what farmers do, while their city cousins climb the famous stairway. Some people try levitation or astral projection to reach heaven without climbing anything. But if they actually got there, how does anybody know? I don’t want to bring politics into this, but I understand a person we all know and lo…,(off subject/lost focus) has a private military jet all pimped up for the job
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5.    Good luck and bad luck portents are too numerous to fit in a book, much less a blog. Here are some of them.

  • Good Luck:
  • Baseball: spit on your bat and you will make a home run.
  • See three butterflies in a row – good luck
  • Always wear new clothes on Easter for good luck all year.
  • If you go to a casino, put a nickel in your shoe and play the nickel slots before you do anything else.
  • It’s good luck to see a cow lift its right rear leg. Okay, let’s all go out and look for cows now. There should be some nearby. 
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  • Bad Luck:
  • When you move to a new home, buy a new broom. Bringing an old broom to a new place is bad luck. I think you need to leave your old dirt behind so you can create new dirt.
  • Don’t put hats on a bed.
  • Don’t open umbrellas inside the house. (unless it’s raining in there) Bad luck to hear a dog howling at night (especially if it’s your dog.
  • Get out of bed on the same side you got in or you will have bad luck.
  • Bad luck to give a pair of socks to your boyfriend or girlfriend – They will walk away from you.
  • If you see rings on any wood surface, you will get married within 6 months. (I’m not sure if that’s good luck or bad luck).
  • No singing and dancing, hear? If you sing before seven, you’ll cry at eleven.

  • 6. Triskaidekaphobes are those of us who fear Friday the 13th. I don’t, of course, and I’m sure that you don’t, either. Oh, but what fun it is to observe reactions to this unique day.  And this is one superstition where actual facts abound. Some are quite startling. Here are 13 such facts.
  • Many office buildings, high-rise apartment buildings and hotels have no 13th floor. They just skip from the 12th floor to 14th floor. Too many people would refuse to pay rent for anything on the 13th floor.
  • Lots of hospitals do not have any Room 13s. If you travel a lot, you may have noticed that most airports lack a Gate 13, and airplanes have no 13th row.
  • Many large shipping lines and cruise ships will not leave port on Friday the 13th. Friday the 13th is avoided for weddings, funerals, grand openings, and any large public event. It is blamed for floods, earthquakes, and other disasters. Consider Apollo 13.
  • Even large cities try not to have a 13th Street, and in many cases, house numbers will skip from12A, for example, to 14A. It is said that one city in Italy has a street denoted as 12 ½ th Street, but I have not been able to verify this.
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  • I must end this article, as I am yawning, and yawning is a sign of bad luck! However, I would like to thank http://www.corsinet.com-trivia for some of the information used in this post. It’s a great site with lots of unusual topics that are fun to explore.
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  • Bye for now from Sweet Nan (zzzz)

Postscript:

On a serious note, I have mentioned Brother Jim in the introduction and several subsequent posts.  Brother Jim is my real brother, and he has passed away.  His memorial service will be tomorrow at a church in Texas, and his funeral will be on December 9th, one day before his birthday would have been.  He was possibly the kindest man that ever lived. My Jimmy was a true prophet. He had a pipeline to heaven.  He knew and told me many things that I cannot share with anyone.  It is my hope that he will continue to communicate with me and provide the grace and guidance that he has given me for many years,  He was a Christian minister, and his congregation consisted of hundreds of devoted followers.  His ministry, The Steppingstones, will be carried on in his name.  My dear brother Jimmy, I will miss you terribly.

After the Fall: Medical Monkeyshines

 

Welcome to Psychic Flashes!

In my last post, I described how much fun it was to fall down and lie helplessly on an asphalt parking lot, freezing and enduring the searing pain striking my body over and over like the fangs of an angry cobra.  And I described the strange foreboding that caused me to find things I had to do before I could leave the house.

There is no point in describing the pain in any further detail;  
everyone knows about pain.  But I did want to comment on a few things I 
found out during my medical adventure, good, bad. and just odd.

The Ambulance and Paramedics:  Have you ever been taken to a hospital in
an ambulance before?  This was my first experience.  The accident 
occurred very near to the hospital,  so the ambulance was there in just 
minutes.  There were two paramedics, a male and a female, both young, 
and both very pleasant.  They made sure I was conscious and breathing, 
and asked me questions;  What is your name, did you lose consciousness at 
any time, where is the pain, does this hurt (YES), do you think you can 
stand up (NO).  They were very careful picking me up and putting me onto 
the gurney, and then slid me into the ambulance like eggs into a pan.

The female paramedic drove the ambulance, and the male stayed in back 
with me.  He kept checking my blood pressure, pulse and oxygen levels 
and asked more questions to determine where the pain was coming from, 
legs, hip – I wasn’t much help because the pain engulfed my whole 
midsection; I didn’t know where it started or ended.  He gave me an 
injection of painkiller.  If he told me what it was, I don’t remember.  
I was kind of in a daze and noticed I could see everything very clearly 
through the back window of the ambulance.  I could tell where we were, 
and could see all the traffic behind us, especially the car immediately 
following.  If you are ever in a car following an ambulance, know that 
the people inside can see every move you make.  It’s just like looking at 
a lighted screen, so don’t pick your nose or scratch your privates.   
Just a friendly little paranormal tip.

 Rain 4

Amid chaos, find serenity in your mind

The Emergency Room was chaos.  People everywhere, walking, wheeling carts 
around, lying on a gurney like me, lost-looking relatives standing 
around, technicians scurrying here and there with equipment, people on 
computers, some policemen striding purposefully in and out of rooms, 
medical staff flirting and joking with one another. There were no rooms 
(a room being a curtained-off cubicle lining each side of the ER).  My 
paramedics stayed with me as I lay on the gurney waiting for a room.  
Other occupied gurneys jockeyed for position as more and more came in.

The paramedics played a game of moving back and forth to allow passage of 
people and equipment.  It made me think of Victorian dance movements, up 
and back, step forward, bow and turn, step back.  The pain injection was 
obviously working.
We were there in the long hallway for hours.  I did ask my male paramedic
why they were still there, and he explained that when someone was 
transported by the paramedics, they had to stay with the patient until 
the patient was admitted or examined and released, or otherwise signed 
off from the care of the paramedics.I was astonished to hear this.  No 
wonder ambulance bills are outrageously high.  What a waste of time!  I 
looked around the hallway to see at least five or six other gurneys, each
with two attendants standing by.  How many man-hours are wasted?  

What’s wrong with these people that they can’t figure out a more 
efficient system? Everybody who complains about the high cost of medical 
care, please take a good look at this!  I have vented.  Thank you, I feel
better.
I think it was five or six hours that I waited to be assigned to a room.  
The nurses made me comfortable and gave me more pain medication.  A 
person from Admitting came and gave me a stack of papers to sign. 
Somewhat dazed and very tired, I signed everything.  I was later taken
to X-Ray.  It seemed dark and cold there, and I wanted to go back to my 
warm bed.  At last, the doctor came with X-Ray films in hand.  He told 
me I had a broken pelvis.  I asked him if it was just sort of a hairline
break, and he said, “Sorry, no.  It’s a full pelvic fracture.  Wish I 
had better news.”

Back in my room, I rested and waited for the doctor.  He had looked at 
the films and told me that with the type of fracture I had, there was 
nothing the hospital could do to treat it.  Braces or surgery were not 
indicated, it would just take time to heal.  The doctor said he would 
send me to a rehab facility for “a day or two” to help me with walking 
and getting back on my feet.  I asked to go home and look into the rehab
situation later.  He informed me that I had already signed up for the 
rehab.

Comment (or complaint) Number 2 about medical care:  It does not seem 
right to have a patient sign a lot of consent forms when they are 
injured, dazed, tired and under the influence of pain medication.  
There must be a better way!

Oh, by the way:  I found out that If you are transported by ambulance 
from one facility to another on a non-emergency basis, your insurance 
most likely will not cover any part of your ambulance bill.  It’s all 
yours, and you signed admission papers agreeing to it.

The worst part of all:  The Rehab Facility.  Essentially not having been
given a choice, I was transported again by ambulance to a rehab facility.  
I will not name it, but I guess I could call it Hell.  I was sent there 
for therapy to help me walk and get back on my feet, but instead, I was 
confined to a bed and not allowed to even go to the bathroom unless I was 
accompanied by a nurse.  It was shortly after Thanksgiving, and the 
rehab therapists were few and far between.  I languished in bed, 
receiving no physical therapy.  

When I wanted to go home, the administrator threatened me.  He said, “I 
decide when you go home, not you.  And if you give me any trouble about 
being released now or in the future, I will make sure your insurance 
denies payment for your entire stay here.”  I cannot comment further on 
the nightmare treatment at the rehab center.

Don’t get me wrong; I am very grateful to have the medical care provided
to citizens of the United States.  I appreciate my doctors and the 
excellent care they provide.  But I ran across the bad apple. It happens.

Rain trees wind gif

Visions and Sounds of rain are the best meditation devices for me.  Yours may be quite different; a beach or music, perhaps.

I had to spend a lot of time in bed, so I used some of the time for meditation.  I think it saved my sanity.  Also, I began to get small flashes from people I did not know who needed advice or help.  I have put a few of my replies on Twitter. I do want to clarify that I am not a psychic or a medium.  I do have well-developed intuitive senses which I have come by naturally and have cultivated over a long period of time.  So if you need advice or guidance on some matter, I might be able to help. 

You could contact me on PsychicFlashes.com or: CarnationsReturn@SweetNan1.  Any service or advice I may be able to provide would be entirely free.  My blog is not for business purposes, nor is my Twitter account.  They are just for fun and to provide an outlet for my need to write.   Thank you for joining me on my blog and on Twitter.  I appreciate your interest, and hope you will return.  In my next post, we will be back with matters of the paranormal 

Bye for now from Sweet Nan

 

The Lady in the Red Hat

Happy Halloween from PsychicFlashes.com and @SweetNan1 on Twitte                                                                                              Happy Halloween

 

How did I know someone across the street was going to die, you may well ask? Because I saw the Lady in the Red Hat. As soon as I saw her, It all came flashing back to me. My mother had seen her. My grandmother had seen her. My great-grandmother had seen her. And now, this “knowing” had come to me in a burst of energy that almost knocked me off my feet.

Like a vein of gold, psychic energy runs through my family as far back as we can trace. It is more prominent in the female side in an everyday sort of way, but the male side carries it in a different form. I have two brothers, David and Brother Jim. Brother Jim, a minister, is strong in his gift, and uses it to assist the people, sometimes complete strangers, who by some means are drawn to come to him for guidance. His kindness and patience is endless, as is his wisdom. His gift of prophecy is strong, and to me, frightening.  I believe he has a pipeline to heaven.  He knows.  He just knows.

My brother David passed away some years ago. He grew up to be a big, ruggedly handsome man who worked jobs involving hard physical labor, and he liked to drink and fight. About six months after his death, he proceeded to call each member of the family. We all recognized his distinctive raspy voice immediately; there was no mistaking it.

I told one of my longtime Twitter friends about these phone calls. He was amused to no end, and remarked that it must have been one hell of a phone bill.  Well, I guess it was toll-free. At any rate, David is now my spirit guide. He does come through with some good information sometimes, but as he was in life, he is irresponsible, playful, and inconsistent. When I need him, I can’t find him most of the time. Then when I am busy with other matters, he pops up, wanting to talk, tease, and vent his frustration and anger. Some newbie to his plane had made sarcastic remarks, and David was making plans go “kick his ass into the next galaxy!” Oh, yes, that’s my brother, all right.

 

 

 

 

But back to the lady of death, I think my grandmother saw her more times than any of us. She and my mother have left me a clear picture of what happens when the lady in the red hat visits. Picture a quiet neighborhood street in the 1940’s – a pretty tree-lined street with attractive, well-kept wood and brick houses. Almost all had big front porches with steps leading down to a sidewalk and front yard. A popular trend in those days was a rose garden in the side yard, and these lent both fragrance and beauty.

There were not very many cars in view. If the family had a car, the husband drove it to work every day. The women stayed home to cook and clean. There were no TV antennas sprouting from rooftops, although some families did have primitive black and white sets with rabbit ears to coax scratchy images to appear. I remember when I first saw a television screen. Liberace was performing, and I asked Mother, “Who is that pretty man?” Some households also had a telephone shared with their neighbors via a party line, and although nobody would admit to doing it, listening in on other people’s phone calls was a major source of entertainment, followed by gossip and much hilarity.

I wondered a great deal about the family legacy left me. I can’t say I was obsessed, but certainly intrigued enough to border on it. I know my mother had more to impart to me before the cancer took her so suddenly. But I had quite enough on my hands trying to balance my normal life with my paranormal life. It is like walking on eggshells all the time to keep the two from merging, however slightly. I supported myself by working as a medical assistant during the day. I seemed to be good at it, and have a naturally gentle nature. However, I had to struggle not to show reactions, good or bad, because the minute I touched a patient, I knew much more than I wanted to know.

And at night, I gave psychic readings. I had a select following who were willing to come to my home for a reading, even if they lived in another state, or indeed, another country. They knew if they “outed” me, they would never receive another reading, and all had profited in some way from their readings.

 

When I saw the lady in the red hat, I was relaxing with a cup of tea at a table next to a front window. What came to mind were the Salvation Army ladies of yore with their neat gray suits, dark stockings and dark low-heeled shoes.

She walked at a moderate, purposeful pace, looking neither left or right. She walked down the sidewalk and when she came to the Misses Jensens’ home, turned without hesitation. She made her way up the walk leading to the front door, climbed three steps to the front porch, and proceeded to knock on the door.

I was mesmerized, and at the sight of the red hat she wore, air seemed to whoosh out of me, my legs grew weak, and my whole being dissolved into a hazy gray mist.

I wakened later, lying in my own bed, with no recall of undressing and going to sleep. Clarity began to trickle back like rain dripping off the eaves. I knew the younger Miss Jensen, Margaret, was dead. She had had an aneurism near her brain stem, and it had suddenly given way.

This was not unusual knowledge for me to have. All my life I have known when a person would die and the reason for the death, but in this instance, it felt different. Very different.

The usual preparations were made for Margaret Jenson. She had some relatives coming from out of state to attend the funeral, so it took slightly longer than usual. Condolences were sent, flowers were ordered and delivered, mountains of paperwork was signed and filed, death certificates requested and paid for. The will left everything to Margaret’s sister, Eileen. They had lived in the home they owned jointly for almost thirty years.

I hated to go to funerals. The psychic sensations of both the living and the dead would envelop me so strongly I could barely function. I had not been to a funeral since my mother died; it was just too painful. But I had known Margaret and Eileen for years and years, and it would have been unthinkable not to attend my neighbor’s funeral.  As you may have noted, funeral attire has changed greatly. No more stark black suits and black hats with thick veils, just simple dark colored clothing was suitable now. I remembered that I had a blue and gray silk dress that was just a little too long for me put away in a spare closet; if my memory served, that would do very well with some medium heeled black slingback shoes that were comfortable.  I would not attempt to walk on grass in high heels again.  I learned my lesson on a rainy day long ago at Forest Lawn

I had an odd feeling as I went to the spare bedroom and looked in the closet. I couldn’t bring myself to look for the blue dress. My eyes were drawn as if by force to the top shelf where a red pillbox hat with a small red veil rested upon a box.

 

It has taken me years to come to terms that I am the Lady in the Red Hat; the Lady of Death. I never have any memory of my visits to various homes, and I don’t know if I am visible to others during my calls. Now I know why I sometimes wake up in my own bed soaking wet or freezing cold. It was more than simple sleepwalking.

It causes me to wonder if both my mother and my grandmother, and perhaps even farther back than that, served as the Death Lady. I tried to ask David, my spirit guide, about it, but he just laughed at me and said I would find out when I was supposed to find out. But he did tell me that there were many, many people who performed the death notification function, silently, unknown, and so secretly they themselves didn’t know.

I would advise you to go and look in your closet. You may want to fortify yourself with a little cooking sherry first.

Bye for now from Sweet Nan.

 

 

Flame, the Flamboyant Clairvoyant: Guest Psychic for June, 2017

Hello and welcome from Sweet Nan!  You may recall that during the month of May, I asked you what question you would have for a fortune teller.  I asked you to send me your question on Twitter via a tweet or DM for privacy.  And WOW, did we get some questions!

Our guest psychic, Flame, the Flamboyant Clairvoyant, did not wish to have her photo published.  Therefore, we have used some representative photos reflecting her reactions to questions.

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@SweetNan1

Thank you!

I wish to thank Ru Paul Productions and Giphy for use of the animations 
used in this article. They were selected to enhance the theme "flamboyant"
and for no other purpose.  

Good Grief Granny!  This whole thing is full of disclaimers.  But I want to state one more time that any questions and answers from a psychic are for entertainment purposed.  The questions and answers are free, no strings attached,  and just for fun, not to be taken seriously.  I do believe in some psychics and their predictions.  Sylvia Browne and Edgar Cayce are my favorites.  But as we all know, there are an awful lot of phonies out there,  bent on taking advantage of people. 

Psychic reader tentFortune Teller Truck

Question:  We received a question regarding work and career from Judy in Sacramento.  She said she works as a clerical assistant to an older man who owns his company.  He likes her and is very generous with raises in salary and promises good chances for advancement.   However, he likes to get close to her and touches her hands, shoulders and hair.  Judy’s no fool; she knows the signs.  Her question is:  “Should I look for another job right now or stay as long as I can?”

dq4  Answer:  Judy, you little cuddle bear smart cookie don’t need advice from Flame (and I am very hot today – sizzling, in fact!) You can stay there with the cowardly old hot pants for a while and put away some of that good money you’re making for later when you’re job hunting.  But there’s something you don’t know – Old touchy feely hot crotch has a wife who watches every move he makes.  She knows about the diamond tennis bracelet, and she has nanny cams hidden in the office.  This old hag (you can’t tell her turkey neck from her turkey face) is mean, and she would chortle with glee if she could ruin your careen and your reputation.  So Flame tells you “Get out ASAP.  Take the stairs, take the elevator, take the fire escape if you must.  Bye Bye little Judy.  You’ll be much happier soon!

Question:  LaTisha from Los Angeles has a dilemma:  She believes she cannot get a boyfriend because of her appearance.  She says she has ugly hair, ugly teeth, bad complexion, and is fat, among other things.  LaTisha says men use her for sex, but they never take her out or treat her like a regular girlfriend.  She works at a low paying job, and just barely makes it from payday to payday, and has no money to improve her looks.  She is actually thinking about robbing a bank to get money for the dental and cosmetic work she wants.  Her question to Flame is “Should I take the risk of committing a crime for money?” 

dq6 Answer:  Flame is having a hissy-fit!  She wants to go out there and grab LaTisha by her “bad hair” and shake some sense into her!  No! No! No! No!  Girl, don’t you even think about robbing a bank or anything else!  It’s okay to want to improve your appearance, but there are lots of things you can do for yourself without a lot of money, and lots of help out there if you will look for it.  Stop wolfing down those chili-cheese fries, burgers and sodas, and you will lose weight and your complexion will improve.  Wash your hair and your body often and use generous amounts of inexpensive conditioners.  Are you whining about no money to go to a gym?  Get off that fat butt and clean your house or apartment and your car and your yard and whatever else you have that you can clean.  Work those calories off  by literally working, and then if you are still standing, take a walk. 

Flame says you will begin to feel better and look better immediately, and men like sweet girls who work hard and take good care of themselves.  They may say otherwise, but deep down, they want a girl they can be comfortable with, not a drop-dead gorgeous beauty like me!  So, you get busy right now, girlfriend, and don’t make me come out there!

Question:  I want to apologize to Rodney, as I sensed he had some urgency to receive his answer, and it has taken 5 days to respond.  Rodney, your question is:  “Can you let me know about pregnancy?”   No other information was divulged.

dq1 Answer:  Rodney, this is Flame, and I speak from my heart as I answer your question, “Can you let me know about pregnancy?”  I feel your worry and concern, and also your distrust in almost everything, not just fortune tellers and paranormal activities, but in reality itself.  I sense you are so full of pain and uncertainty, I wish I could somehow pull it out of your psyche and take it into myself, as I am strong enough to deal with it.  But we can’t do that, and all I can do is send good wishes and comforting vibrations towards you.

I realize you are not asking me to explain pregnancy to you, as in the “birds and the bees,”  but instead, you are asking about a baby.  In trying to plow through your thick negative aura, I think I am seeing that you want a baby, or you are wondering if the baby in question is yours, and I believe you are hoping that it is.  Trying my best here to read you; difficult.  I have to tell you, Rodney, that there is no baby, there never was a baby, and there will be no baby forthcoming in your life.  The dark lights whirling around you tell me also that the exact opposite will be true.  The fact is, Rodney, that what you want is not going to happen. 

I also sense that you are trying to develop your own psychic abilities.  I am asking you to postpone your efforts for a while.  There is too much interference in your aura right now.  The development of psychic abilities should never be done out of fear or desperation. 

You have some friends who would be good company to you and could bring some brightness and lightness into your dark world, if only you would stop blocking them out.  Try to have just a little bit of trust in people, and you may open the door to some happiness in the future.  I sincerely hope this happens for you. 

Qiiestions and quick answers:

From Mary in Toronto, Canada:   Is my boyfriend cheating on me?

FLAME:  Of course he is.  You know that – why are you even asking?  Tell your no-good cousin to leave Mike alone – he is too jelly-balled to resist anything.

From Chris in Midway, Florida:  I think I like my girlfriend’s mother better than I like my girlfriend.   Is it okay to approach her?

FLAME:  Sure, if you have a death wish.  You idiot, you would end up hurting everyone involved, including yourself.  If you have a little itch for an older woman, break up with your girlfriend and go find one.   Lots of fish in that particular pond.

From Melissa in Charleston:   I like this boy Arthur who always says hi to me.  Do you think he likes me?

FLAME:  Melissa, you are a school child!  What are you, 9 or 10 years old?  You are too young for a boyfriend.  You are too young to be on Twitter asking me questions.  Why isn’t your mother keeping you off the Internet?  Go do your homework and play with your Barbies or something.

From Danny in Mission Hills, California:  I want to open up my own business, a Martial Arts Studio.   How long do you think it will take?

FLAME:  It’s never going to happen for you, Danny.  You’re too lazy.  Aspire to be the HEAD pizza delivery guy.

Well, guys, that’s got to be all for now.  I want to thank our guest psychic, Flame, for being such a good sport, and once again. thank Ru Paul Productions and Giphy for the animations.  I thought this was fun;  I hope you did, too.   If you want to shoot some questions to me on Twitter, fire away.  We might do this again.

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Flame, the Flamboyant Psychic, and me, sashaying on out of here!  Bye for now from Sweet Nan.

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Fortune Teller Questions and Answers for May. 2017

Win a few, Lose a few

What Kind of Question is That???

I have to eat, you know.

 

Hello from Sweet Nan of PsychicFlashes.com and @SweetNan1 on Twitter. Just a reminder that we will have a guest psychic present each month to answer your questions for the fortune teller.

This month, Flame, The Flamboyant Clairvoyant, has kindly consented to answer all the questions you sent to @SweetNan1 by tweet or by DM if you want to remain anonymous.

Still not too late to ask your question about life, love, career, marriage, or whatever you want to know. Flame has quite good psychic insights, and kind of a rowdy sense of humor.

This psychic adventure is totally free, no strings attached, and is just for fun!

So send in the question you would like to ask a fortune teller, and tune in around the first of each month to read all the questions and answers in PsychicFlashes.com.

Bye for Now from Sweet Nan

We can all see some things, some times.

The Death of Me

PART  1
I knew I was going to die. I mean, going to die in a prescribed number of months and weeks, not like everybody knows they are going to die someday.

I told the doctors to give it to me straight. No hedging around, no false hopes, no patting me on the head and trying to make me feel better. They meant well, and they worried about me.

Little did they know that I regarded death as the ultimate adventure, the answer to all my questions, at last.  Of course, I had a little apprehension.  Who wouldn’t?  But for the most part, I wanted to KNOW!  It was exciting and wonderful to finally find out what happens after death.

All the stuff about a red devil in a fiery hell; angels on clouds and streets paved with gold; or that middle one they call purgatory. I always laugh at that – mentally picturing very small people sloshing around in coffee pots, confined there to percolate over their lives, what they did good and what they did bad.

And all that crap about religion. People have actually knocked on my door to inform me that I will burn in hell if I do not immediately attend their church, accept their idea of who to worship, make sizeable donations, and go door-to-door like they do. They call it “witnessing.” I call it meddling in other peoples’ business.

Churches aren’t the only ones who do this. Whole countries meddle. The United States will condone the behavior of missionaries who travel all over the world to tell people they will die and go to hell if they do not give up their current religion (whatever it may be) and become Christians. I dislike this for a multitude of reasons, not least among them that the missionaries often get arrested and jailed for their interference, and then our own military people must risk their lives trying to free them.

I consulted Wikipedia, and learned that the major religions of the world include:

  • Christians:     2,100,000,000
  • Muslims:        1,500,000.000
  • Of No Religion:   1,000,000,000
  • Hindus:  900,000,000
  • Chinese Folk Religionists:  400,000,000
  • Primal Religionists:   400,000,000
  • Buddhists:   375,000,000
  • Sikhs:  24,000,000
  • Jews:  14,500,000
  • Baha’is:  7,400,000
  • Jains:  4,300.000
  • Shintoists:   4,000,000
  • Taoism:  2,700,000
  • (Thank you to World Religions-Populations Pie Chart Statistics List at WWW.age-of-the-sage.org)

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT

Please forgive me for pausing. My caregiver just found me unconscious on the floor, and has helped make me more comfortable. I seem to be okay now, except for a very bad black eye. It has a strange hardness to it and looks very black and shiny. Doesn’t hurt, though.

I see I need to apologize for my more than necessary attention to religion, as religion is only a small part of the knowledge I seek during my death process. The actual numbers as related to reincarnation are staggering.

I am very ignorant about religion. When I was a teenager, I was engaged to marry a Catholic boy. I was told by his family that I must take Catholic Instruction and become a Catholic before they would permit us to marry. I dutifully trudged to instruction day after day, week after week, and tried to make my mind be a Catholic. Finally, a panel of priests called me into conference to inform me that I had too many questions, and that I had no faith, and therefore, would not be accepted into the Catholic religion.

I don’t know if all those tears were of laughter, sadness or relief. No overbearing mother-in-law, no pimply-faced teenaged husband, no long, boring church services, and the end of seeking after religion; for me, forever. Done. Settled.

I do know that of that long list of religions that I compiled before my face met the rug under the desk, that there is great conflict among the various worshipers. They all believe their own church is the only true one, and they will inherit the earth while everyone else goes to hell or elsewhere.

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT

That was a bad one, but I’m okay now. Let’s get to the exciting part! REINCARNATION!!!

To quote Fox Mulder, “I want to believe!” The idea that any of us have lived and died before is just mesmerizing to me. I might have been, and you might have been…

 A slave who helped build the pyramids and died of heatstroke
 A Scottish child who got lost on the moors
 A traveler who dined or was dined upon at Donner Pass
 A caveman or cavewoman who was buried alive in an earthquake
 An African woman who died of starvation during the birth of her 9th   child
 A fisherman among 160,000 who died in the 2010 Haiti earthquake
 A farm worker who drowned along with 4,000,000 others during 1931 floods in China

What happened to all these people after they died? Where did they go? Heaven? Hell? Another planet? Cold storage facility? There are millions of theories, books written (Remember Bridey Murphy?), prophecies, past life therapy sessions, personal accounts from people who claim to have died and come back to life; little children who “remember.”

Have they become ghosts? Animals? Some people swear their little dogs and cats are waiting for them in heaven. Presumably their fleas and worms, too?

If all of the gazillions of people who have lived and died on earth were reincarnated again and again, we wouldn’t have room for a flea, or anything else. I have to count on my fingers, so I don’t know how to put this in mathematical terms, but just think what the multiplication of people would be over time.

I like the idea of reincarnation. Always have. Always wanted someone to come up with even just one solid piece of proof. Since none is forthcoming, I will try to find that truth myself through keeping a record of my own death process.

Right now, I am having an aura, signaling one of my oncoming attacks. My vision is full of bright sparkles; I smell unidentified odd scents; my limbs feel rigid, and it is difficult to breathe. I will go lie down for a while, and will continue my story when I have rested.

 

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT
I am in a warm, totally dark place. Strangely enough, I can see, but I don’t know what I am seeing. There are strong smells that both attract and repel me. I can’t feel my body; just hard, scaly textures where my arms and legs should be. I hear the sounds of people talking softly, some crying and some laughing.

Perhaps I am in a coma, in a hospital bed. I no longer feel pain, but feel something I can only describe as the absence of life. I think I might have died, but I hear the voices of people around me.

NEW LOCATION: Coffin

“Well, at least we got a few dozen to attend. It was embarrassing, having to almost bribe people to come to her funeral.”
“You’re having a little gathering at your house after the service?”

“Yes, as her sister, I felt I had to take care of things. Nobody else wanted to. At least, she left me a sizable chunk of her fortune, so I can’t complain. She was not much of a writer, in my opinion, but she was a brilliant businesswoman, I’ll give her that.”

“I worked for her for 20 years, and she never gave me credit for anything. I shouldn’t speak ill, but she was cheap and mean, even though she tried to act like she had a million adoring fans and friends. I tried to be friendly, but when I asked her to lunch one day, she looked at me like I was a slave asking the queen to eat with him down at the garbage dump.”

“Well, it wasn’t just you. She was a vain, selfish woman, rude to everybody. I don’t know for sure, you know, but there is sort of a family story that she was going to be married when she was in her teens, but the young man’s parents didn’t want her in the family. It was then that she turned against the world. Well, let’s get her planted and get all this over with.”

Death at Last

 

 

So I heard my sister speaking to one of my employees, and I knew. I was dead, and I was in the coffin with the dead human body I was leaving behind. I had to get out of the coffin before they closed the lid and got on with the burial.

I seemed to be stuck there, wedged in a small slippery space with a tunnel on one end and an opening at the top. I wriggled and squirmed, and finally crawled out of what I vaguely knew was my own ear.

Human traits melted away from me as I quickly scrambled down the varnished side of the coffin. I saw that I was quite handsome, a glossy body about a half-inch long with two light brown stripes behind my head. I had thin, spikey legs, appendages that would someday become wings, and delicate antennae with which I could communicate with other cockroaches and sense the presence of food and water.

The great mystery of life, death, and reincarnation has now been solved. Since I can no longer speak, never mind type, I cannot communicate this great truth to you, as I had hoped. Besides, I sense a warm, dark, safe place nearby, and I must seek protection there while I recover from my rebirth.

BREAKING NEWS: A freak accident occurred Wednesday afternoon on Sharples Road, in front of the Eternal Living Cemetery. Evelyn Parish Meade was killed in a single vehicle car crash. She was just leaving the cemetery after the funeral of her sister, Charlotte Parish, the renowned author and publishing mogul. A cause for the accident could not be determined, but first responders said she was screaming about having something in her ear that would eat her brain. Apparently she was in a state of traumatic grief over the death of her sister, and was declared dead on arrival at Central City Hospital.

Author’s Note:

This story is fiction in its entirety, at least, as far as I know. Over a period of three weeks, this account of life, death and reincarnation was produced during several sessions of a process called Automatic Writing. It did require some spelling and grammar changes and a general clean-up, but the information contained is basically what was received.

From Sweet Nan:

Thank you for visiting Psychic Flashes.  Please come again.

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