Some weeks nothing seems to go right. Others are just sort of blah. Then there are those weeks that just amaze you. This was one of those. Amazing!

#s 1 and 2: HAUNT JAUNTS RANKS AS AN EXPERT AND GETS AN AWARD

Rather than rewrite it all, I’ll just link to the post I wrote about this on Haunt Jaunts.

But in case you don’t want to click over, here’s the short version: HJ ranks #50 out of 118 experts on Sulia’s paranormal channel and one of HJ’s Twitter friends nominated the blog for a Shorty Award in Travel.

I’m not gonna lie. The recognition feels great!

#3: MASTER OF THE COURT

Then at Thursday’s tennis clinic the most amazing thing happened. We had just started doing a drill when Coach Beth stopped us and pulled us in.

My heart sunk because I was one of the ones in the middle of the drill. Worse, I had last touched the ball. My first thought was, “Aw man! What did I do wrong this time?” Because I’m always sure I’ve made a good example of something not to do. That’s happened more than I care to admit.

Not this time! I about fell over when Beth said, “Whoopsie (that’s my tennis nickname) is the only who’s mastered something. Can anyone tell me what?”

I sort of phased out for a moment as I did a mental rewind. Had she just said “mastered” and “Whoospie” in the same sentence?

Apparently she had. I then listened with keen interest as people started naming things I might’ve mastered. I had no clue. I had just done another of my trademark lobs before she stopped us and called us all in. I figured it had to do with that.

In part it did, but the point she was trying to drive home was I had mastered reading the court and knowing when to pull out certain shots, like lobs.

Huh? I was waiting for the punchline or the hidden camera reveal. I have never been singled out for doing something good before. Again, the recognition felt awesome!

Until I started thinking about the target on my back. The girls will be gunning for me now, itching to take me down and figure out how to take my lob opportunities away from me. I’ll have to come up with some new tricks and quick!

But it made for an exciting week. I’ll let myself bask in the glory for a moment before I buckle down and get back to just being me –a big ol’ Whoopsie at heart!

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From first grade to sixth grade I went to a magnificent elementary school. It was a small private school called Cheeseman Academy and it was on the outskirts of Cheeseman Park in Denver, Colorado. In fact, weather permitting, we had recess in the park most days.

Paranormal enthusiasts know Cheeseman Park as a haunted park that was in part Steven Spielberg’s inspiration for Poltergeist.  I think that’s in part where my interest in ghosts and the macabre stemmed from. There was something there. An energy I didn’t understand but always felt. In fact, I used to have wicked crazy dreams about a ghost on Cheeseman’s third floor. Not only while I went to school there, but long after I graduated.

However, sometime in my 20s the dreams stopped. I figured I had outgrown them. Now I think they died when Cheeseman was torn down.

Ah, what a beautiful old brownstone it was. A man named Neil who went there when it was called The Peter Pan School left a comment on one of HJ’s posts about the school and brought back so many wonderful memories.

If there had been witches and wizards it sort of would’ve been like a Hogwarts. Smaller, but with as much character and personality.

When I talk to people who went there (because a couple of people have found my Haunt Jaunts post I guess from Googling Cheeseman), they remember it fondly too. It had a power. It was a remarkable place to go to school. (Have I said that already?)

I’d really love to capture other students memories of Cheeseman. And to collect any remaining photos that may exist of it. It’s such a shame it’s gone now. That is one place I would’ve loved to return to and get lost in the nostalgia.

But maybe I could do that if I made a documentary of it?

The thought keeps nagging me. We’ll see if it persists. If it does, maybe I just might give it a go!

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Today I went for my three month check and to get the results of my yearly CT scan. I am overjoyed to announce I am now officially a two-year cancer survivor!

I don’t know why they count it from when you’re diganosed instead of when you’re told you’re in remission, but that’s how they do it. I was officially diagnosed December 31, 2008, so really I’m a two years and change cancer survivor. Hoo Hoo!

Such a relief to get that news. I’ve been feeling strong and back to normal so I didn’t think anything was wrong, but…I’m leery now. Ever since all I went through with my mom and then myself, I don’t just think doctor visits will go routinely anymore. I’m always braced for the alternative.

But luckily today I got great news.

And even though my weight has now set a new all-time record high, my blood pressure was back down to where I like it: 98/68! (As I was getting sicker and sicker before I was officially diagnosed my BP kept climbing higher and higher, which really freaked me out. Now I know it was because I was sick, but back then I didn’t understand what was going on. Now I watch it like a hawk for any signs of it going higher again. I was so excited today to see it back to around the 100/70 mark. It’s a sign I’m in great shape!)

Oh, and I also graduated to checks every four months now instead of every three. And if I make it to three years all clear, I’ll graduate to checks every six months. I’m shooting for that!

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Tuesday I watched one of Joel Osteen’s sermons I had recorded. I think it was a rerun. The story he shared about Frank Lloyd Wright sounded familiar. (He shared how one day FLW was out walking in the field with his uncle. FLW veered all over. To see the barn, to look at the field, etc. When he met back up with his uncle his uncle said, “Frank, look at our footsteps. Yours zigzagged all over and you took forever to meet me here, whereas I got here fast and didn’t waste any time.”

FLW related how his uncle’s message backfired. FLW had enjoyed the sights along the journey. He’d taken time to stop and smell the proverbial roses.

Osteen’s message was all about that. Finding balance and enjoying the journey. Not getting so caught up in accomplishing our goals, but to appreciate all we experience along the way.

I had been trying to live that principal prior to 2008. It sort of got lost in the Black Cloud that engulfed me that year.

HAUNT JAUNTS AND BOOK WRITING

Last year I was so focused on Haunt Jaunts. I don’t know why. It’s just a blog. And I don’t really know what I’m accomplishing writing it every day anyway. Sure, I’ve met a lot of neat people, but in the end what’s it all for?

This year I want to bring some magic back in my life. I want to find the balance. I want to remember to allot X amount of time to HJ and not obsess about writing one more blog, or researching one more place, or posting one more Tweet or FB post.

I want to write again. I want to get back to my books and short stories. I have umpteen in-progress books started. This year I’m finishing one!

I even want to finally write my first non-fiction book. Granted, it’ll be my Haunt Jaunts: A Travel Guide for Restless Spirits that I’d envisioned in the first place and which the blog was born out of. But I have an idea for how to turn it into a series and make it different from the other haunted places books already out there. I’m curious to see if I can sell it.

THE STAY-AT-HOME WIFE EXPERIMENT

But I also want to start a new blog. I already have the groundwork sort of laid out. It’s also going to hopefully evolve into a non-fiction book: The Stay-at-Home Wife Experiment. I think the tag line will be something to the effect “Can a modern woman live a life fulfilled as a devoted wife and kept woman?” And then I’ll share the lessons I’ve learned about faith, friendship, self and love over the past 11 plus years.

It’s been on my mind because my friend Jade Walker, who I think is a brilliant, accomplished, fiercely independent woman who I respect very much, took a shine to me when I wrote for Families.com. After I left she suggested a couple of times I re-consider writing a marriage blog somewhere.

But that was back when I was just recovering from the cancer. All I could think about was Haunt Jaunts, which seemed to be the thing Spirit put in my heart to motivate me and inspire me to get moving and focus on the future so I could get better.

But I can’t tell you how many people still seek me out after reading articles I wrote on Families.com to say how much my words meant to them. For any writer that is a huge compliment, but for me it affirmed something Jade had once said to me. It was just a random comment about how she liked my words and they spoke to her. But she’s extremely well-read. She’s world-smart and intellectually savvy.

I’m just me. I did graduate from the University of Arizona, but I wouldn’t my Communications B.A. a fancy degree. I don’t have any formal training in writing. Not like Jade. She’s worked for major publications. Heck, she still does. She’s a true journalist. For her to find anything I have to say interesting still blows my mind.

Yet, maybe there really is something there. Maybe when I channel Spirit and flesh out the ideas the Muse sings into my heart it is something interesting. Others seem to like it.

So I’m going to launch the SAHW Experiment and put together a book proposal and see what happens.

TIMELINESS AND TENNIS

I also want to try and not only be on time for meetings, classes, and what have you, but early. (I’ve become notorious for being late anymore and I hate it.)

And I want to get even better at tennis. I want to remember to run to the net when I lob over people’s heads. I want to remember to talk more on the court and warn my partner if I’ve accidentally lobbed short and given the other side a chance to smash her with an overhead. And I want to remember to turn my shoulders, reach for the ball and position myself to smash away any overheads the opposing side gifts me with. And I’m hoping I can remember to keep my left hand raised instead of dropping it during the serve so I get better stability and more accuracy on my serve.

Phew. I guess I’ve once again developed an ambitious list of things I’d like to accomplish in 2011. Mostly I just want to take chances and see what comes of them.

What kinds of things do you hope to do in the year ahead?

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My personal nightmare with cancer started two years ago today on December 28, 2008. It wasn’t the date I got the official diagnosis. That would come on New Year’s Eve. But it was the date I was checked in the hospital and knew something was very, very wrong with me.

I don’t know if it feels much longer than just two years ago, or if it’s hard to believe it’s already been two years ago.

All I know is that Wayne was home. Off work and at home, not just in town instead of being out of town on assignment. I had been feeling progressively worse all month, but today was the day I couldn’t take it anymore. I remember laying on the ground on a pillow desperate to hold back my screams of agony.

Wayne was beside himself. If he’d been able to force me into the car he would’ve taken me to the hospital that way. Eventually he convinced me I had to face my fears and go.

So I did. I’ll never forget the ER doctor’s eyes when he came back after finding my CT scan results. I knew whatever they’d found on the 23rd when I’d gone in for a chest X-ray that had revealed something the radiologist felt needed a CT scan right then was bad.

But how bad could it be if no one had called my attention to it any further? They’d let me go home. My doctor had never called. If it could wait until regular business hours resumed on Monday it wasn’t anything to be worried about.

HA! It was as bad as a grapefruit growing in my chest. (Which, later I learned was more like a cantaloupe than grapefruit.)

I was immediately checked in and given my first dose of strong pain meds. Was it morphine already then? I don’t remember. I remember it was the first time in weeks I got some relief though. For a little while. The pain always flared back with a fury in a short time it seemed in those early days.

Then the hospital’s where I stayed for the next four days. Which was sort of nice on the one hand. I was exhausted. It was nice to just lay down and do nothing. To let myself feel ill rather than trying to pretend it was nothing.

I knew it was going to be cancer even before all the tests confirmed it. But I also knew it wasn’t my time yet. This was a trial.

Or at least that’s what I hoped frevently it would all turn out to be. There were moments, like when the doctor said I had excellent chances, “50/50″, that I freaked a bit. Fifty-fifty didn’t sound too good to me. I was either going to live or I was going to die. That’s what I heard. That death was an option on the table at all was awful. Go away!

Granted, it was better than, “Sorry, you have a 5% chance anything we try will save you. You’re just too far gone.” But it also wasn’t the 80% recovery rate I was given later after more tests showed how sick I was –or wasn’t, as the case turned out to be.

So…here I am. Remembering back to that day when Life took a decided turn down a crazy road and my hitchhiker came into my life. What a ride that was! That’s one stretch of pavement I could do without ever seeing again! Same with the hitchhiker that came with it!

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Do you make resolutions at the beginning of every year? I used to set goals at the end of every year. I used to call them resolutions, but ultimately I’d set too many, or ones that were absurdly ambitious, and I’d never accomplish them. Then I’d review them near the end of the year and feel so bad that I’d set my sights too high.

Then I started doing “Letters to Spirit” based on something I’d read in one of Sarah Ban Breathnach’s books. (Likely Simple Abundance, but it could’ve been Something More.)

At any rate, she explained how she wrote letters to Spirit at the end of every year giving thanks and relating what happened. But then she’d write another such letter, except dated for the same time next year. It detailed all the things she’d done –or, rather, saw herself doing and accomplishing in the coming year.

She marveled how close they’d match each other when she compared what really happened to her future letter.

I gave it a go and continued the tradition until 2007, when things started to get too chaotic and my heart wasn’t in it. However, until that point those letters were my favorite End the Year/Welcome the New Year tradition. It was almost eerie how many of my end of the year letters would end up matching the year before’s future letter.  

I think I’m ready to reinstate that tradition this year. My soul feels more settled and ready to think about the future again. Last year I was just so grateful and amazed to be alive. I had dodged a bullet with the cancer and was still dealing with feelings of “What if it comes back? How much future do I really have?”

But this year, even though thoughts of “Will it come back?” still cross my mind, I don’t dwell on it as much. What’s gonna happen is gonna happen.

Until whatever happens that’s gonna happens happens though, I have to live my life. And having goals to look forward to is part of what helped me get into remission.

But I didn’t set any very clear ones last year. Well, I did. I made a list of things I’d like to do, but lists aren’t magical like End of Year Letters to Spirit are.

I’m ready to bring back some magic and sail forth into a wondrous 2011 rather than look at another list full of very few things crossed out.

What about you? What do you hope to accomplish in 2011? And did you accomplish all you’d set out to in 2010?

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Much to my delight, Wayne got me Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Peace and Plenty as one of my Christmas presents. He actually hates spending money on books when he can just check them out at a library, but there are books he makes exceptions for. Like ones we’ll refer to again and again (travel guides and such) or ones we’ll read again and again.

I have reread every Sarah Ban Breathnach book I own. Peace and Plenty will surely be added to that list. I’m only a few chapters into it, but I’m already in love. I adore her writing style. I think she’s marvelous at blending quotes she finds with points she’s trying to make.

And I feel so uplifted, inspired and motivated after reading her essays. It gives me a whole new perspective to ponder. I inevitably find new things I want to try and do and aspire to be.

After reading Peace and Plenty before bed last night, I woke up raring to tackle the day today. And boy did I! I got all sorts of things done, from shopping (even stocking up on some Christmas presents for next year) to cleaning the house and starting the Great Dejunking Project of 2011. Marvelous!

So, while I don’t really suffer from financial problems (knock on wood and hallelujah! let’s hope I can keep it that way!) I’m still already finding things to relate to in this book. I don’t know if it’ll have as profound an impact as Simple Abundance did, but at least I get to feast on Sarah Ban Breathnach’s prose. That’s always delicious soul food!

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I’ve been loading Mr. Meow up in his carrier every Monday for the past few weeks and taking him to the bet for a check up on his feeding tube and health in general. He’s been doing okay. Last week his weight was up from 9.3 to 9.5. It was encouraging he’d gained weight. That meant it might not be cancer after all.

This past week has seen HUGE strides in his health. He’s been pooping again. (Sort of messy/runny poos, but he hadn’t really been going before so we’re glad to see him stinking up his potty box.)

He’s also been a LOT more playful. He’s been wrestling with me again, and tormenting both Murph and Tab by chasing after them.

He’s back to jumping on the kitchen counter and asking for sink water. (He loves drinking from the faucet.) And he’s been my shower buddy again. (He waits outside the shower until I’m done and then wants to drink from the shower head. Did I mention his affinity for water?)

But at his check up this week he had his biggest improvements yet. He gained a half a pound AND all of his blood work came back 100% normal! Dr. Stumb couldn’t even believe it. She had figured to see it had dropped some, but not like the results that came in.

For instance, one of his most impressive numbers involved something to do with his liver. When we’d first took him in that particular level was 1,000. Normal should be between 40-130. He was right on 130 yesterday.

Dr. Stumb tried to credit the victory to me saying if I hadn’t been willing to take on the task of caring for him via his feeding tube and making sure he got all his meds he never would’ve bounced back like this.

But if she hadn’t of checked him in and given us the feeding tube option and just looked at him like an old cat whose time had probably come and not helped treat him, he’d be gone.

So I credit it to the both of us. It was a tag team effort to get him back on track.

But Mr. Meow is the real miracle. He was the day he followed me up the steps and marched right in his home like he knew he was meant to be there (which, of course, he was), and he is now that he responded so well to the treatments.

So it looks like it’s not cancer after all. PHEW! Again, so grateful to the marvels of modern medicine. It saved my baby’s life!

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I broke my engagement ring two years back. It was during my Black Cloud time. The day before the oncologist told us there was nothing more he could do for my mom and he referred us to hospice I lost the diamond in my ring.

I was devastated. I had always thought I’d die with that ring and that stone on my hand. I was never one of those who thought I should upgrade to a bigger stone as the years of my marriage passed. That ring meant an awful lot to me because it took Wayne forever to finally decide to marry me.

Anyway, last year I got a “replacement” ring. But it came with strife. Wayne had picked out a very beautiful Sapphire solitaire ring with a diamond band, but I decided it was too fancy for me.

I had in mind a sapphire and diamond band. So I went back and traded the fancy ring in for a more modest one. That caused some friction between Wayne and me. Understandably he felt hurt. I’d made such a big deal that I wanted him to surprise me and take the time to pick out a ring and when he did I decided it wasn’t right for me. I’d be mad too.

But the band I picked out didn’t make me happy either. I missed my diamond. The new ring was just a constant reminder I hadn’t taken better care of my original ring. It also reminded me I’d hurt Wayne’s feelings rejecting the other one.

I also realized I wanted a diamond ring with a separate wedding band. I wanted to look like I was married. Or my view of what married looked like. Which, until all this broken ring nonsense happened, I didn’t even know I had an opinion of.

I’m really not much of a jewelry wearer, and I don’t really feel comfortable paying thousands for it. But my heart longed for a diamond.

So when I saw Stauer’s DiamondAura Dearly Beloved set, I knew what I wanted for Christmas.

Totally flashier than my original ring. And silver, not gold. And much larger. (I had a 1/2 carat diamond. This one’s 2 carats.)

But it came with a band and I’d look married again. All for just under $100, plus shipping and any applicable taxes. ($150 if you got the matching earrings, which I aksed for. I’d also been wanting diamond earrings.)

To my delight, after sending the link to Wayne he ordered it for me. (Earrings too!) The package arrived Friday. I pestered him all evening to let me open the package before Christmas. When the first thing I did Saturday morning was start in again, he relented.

As I expected, it’s much prettier in the picture. Less fake looking.

But if you don’t study it very closely in person, it’s pretty impressive. It made  my neighbor’s eyes bug out when I showed it to her, and then quickly followed up with, “It’s fake!” so she’d catch her breath and not pass out. I don’t think she could believe it at first that Wayne had bought me something that looked so fancy! Which still has me cracking up on a number of levels.

Anyway, I’m happy. It may not be real, but it’s pretty. I also like the design. It’s just perfect for me.

Best of all, I’m not fretting about busting it like I would if I got a real diamond. (I still baby my hands when I’m wearing the diamond and sapphire band. I’m just so afraid of busting another piece of jewelry.)

And I love the fit. It feels and looks so right on my hand. Pretty good for a fake!

Now watch, I’ll probably get mugged and someone will steal it. As long as I’m not hurt in the process, so be it. Joke’ll be on them!

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During my Christmas shopping I was overjoyed to learn one of my all-time favorite authors, Sarah Ban Breathnach, has a new book coming out! It’s called Peace and Plenty: Finding Your Path to Financial Seernity.

I’m not super crazy about the subject matter. Thanks to Wayne I feel I have a pretty good grasp on financial responsibility.

However, I love her writing. And her first book, Simple Abundance, was released in a very similar climate. (The recession of the easrly 1990s.) I’m sure she’ll have many witty insights, wonderful quotes, and thought-provoking anecdotes like she’s had in all of her books.

I’m just excited to read something else of hers. Simple Abundance was nothing short of a life-changing manual for me. It’s one of the only books I’ve read more than once. (About seven times in the last 10 years.) I’ve been sort of craving her sage prose and I’m super happy to know I’ll soon have something new to feast upon!

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