Remember, a couple of posts ago I packed boxes 128 and 129 full of old paint? Well, they didn’t go right to the toxic waste drop-off. I decided I needed to write down the manufacturer, color and finish of all the paints before I got rid of them. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to touch up the baseboards, walls and front door, among other things. So I unpacked the boxes, wrote everything down, and repacked the boxes. Unfortunately, the drop-off site is open only a few days per week, so it will be at least half a week before I get them good and truly gone.

Meanwhile, I’ve started another bag of clothes to go to the Goodwill, but that isn’t full yet. But I gave a box of stuff to No.2 Sis (won’t her husband be happy?) and I filled another garbage bag of lumpy, old bed pillows for the garbage. That brings me to 131 bags, boxes and small pieces of furniture. Still pluggin’ away.

I spent most of the weekend in southern Minnesota, at my BFF “G”‘s farm. The farm has a name, but I don’t remember what it is. It’s in Lakota. I’ll have to work hard to memorize it phonetically, because I don’t speak Lakota. Yes, “G” is white, but not translucent, so she’d probably fit in better on the “rez” than I would. (See previous post).

Have you ever had that love-at-first sight feeling? I have had it 3 times in my life. Once when I saw my first cat as a week-old kitten, once when I saw my nephew “B” for the first time, and the first time I saw “G”.

“G” and I both grew up as No.6 of 9 kids and we went to different Catholic grade schools. We first met in high school in 9th grade biology class. I took one look at her and said to myself, “I have to be her friend!” And we became the very best of friends, and still are after 42 years.

WOO-WOO ALERT:

“G” and I went to a psychic palm reader for the first time about 30 years ago. The man told us we had spent many lives together. He said that our first life together had been about 3000 years ago, as Hun warriors on the Mongol steppes. We drank and gambled and whored together. We’d lived fast, died young and left good looking corpses. I believe it. It’s too much like our early 20’s to disbelieve. Fortunately, we settled down, so we won’t be dying young. Still good looking, though. 🙂

I find it funny that many people don’t believe in reincarnation because every woman says she was Marie Antoinette and every man was Napoleon Bonaparte. I’ve done about 8 regressions and I’ve never been anyone famous, or even high-ranking or important. In fact, I’ve had a lot of hard-working, back-breaking short lives.

“G” and I even did a regression to go back to the time of Jesus to see what we were up to then. Would we see ourselves as apostles, or Mary Magdalene, or John the Baptist?

I saw myself as a middle-aged man in the marketplace. I was there to sell my camel. I asked another man, “Who is that?”, pointing to a man speaking to a throng of people. The other guy said, “Oh, that’s Jesus of Nazareth. He’s a preacher.” I said, “Huh. Wanna buy a camel?”

“G” found herself as a Roman bean counter. Literally, she worked in a granary weighing bags of beans.She was unfulfilled and unhappy, and she had an unfulfilled, unhappy wife. Never heard of Jesus.

Still, people are going to believe what they’re going to believe. Although Dad was a stalwart Catholic, Mom had a much more open mind and exposed me to some radical (for a small Midwestern town) ideas. And for that, I’m very grateful. Thanks, Mom.

Stay tuned…