I came across a few photos from our 2008  sister vacation in Colorado.

This is us, ready to begin our whitewater rafting adventure. From left to right, front row are Jason, me and Linda. On the back row are Gary, Bonnie and Pam. Our guide for this trip was Kemper. He is Pam and Gary's friend and always ready to go rafting!

Since it was nearing the end of the season, most of the rapids were considered Class 3s, somewhat tame compared to the wild waters in the spring!

That's me and Jason jumping in! The water temp was about 45 degrees!

Oh, yeah, I had fun!

From left to right: Tony, Pam, Queenie, Prince, Cindy. In the background are Grandma, Amy (our collie) and Mom.

I’ll tell you first what I can about the picture. The picture is not dated, but it was probably taken in 1965 or 1966 in our yard at the stone house. I would have been about eight years old, which would make Pam about 12, Mom about 41 and Grandma, I don’t know.  

I do not know, for certain, what season this photo was taken in. It certainly looks like early autumn. Pam and I both are wearing shorts, which would indicate warm temperatures, but there are quite a few leaves on the ground. We had many oak trees on our property that are obviously dropping leaves, but there is one tree in the right background of the picture that hasn’t dropped many leaves at all. Which reminds me, that raking leaves was a big project at our house. Dad would not start raking until all the leaves had fallen. And, he was very methodical about it. And, he never left a leaf. We had to help. Dad never did anything half-assed. He was meticulous to the point of obsession and leaf raking was no exception. Dad must have been at home when this photo was taken. I know this because his station wagon is in the driveway. Dad might be the one that snapped this picture. If he did, maybe he used his Argus camera.

Long before we graduated to horses, we had three ponies, Prince, Queenie and Tony. Pam’s perception might be different, so I ask forgiveness if I get this wrong, but as I remember it, Pam wanted horses. She wanted horses more than anything. At Christmas time, when the rest of us were asking for record players and ice skates, Pam would ask for horses. The rest of us, of course, got what we asked for, but, Pam always got the short end of the stick, so to speak. I think, one year she even asked for a bridle, hoping that that first horse related gift would eventually lead to the next.

Since Pam was always the good girl and really wanted horses, dad was ready to cave. He posed a question for a vote – a swimming pool or horses. Bonnie and I voted for the pool. Linda, my oldest sister, surely wanted the pool, too. I mean, she was already driving, dating boys, working a part-time job, what use could horses be to her? But, Pam and Dad voted for the horses.  So, we got our three ponies.

Dad built a nice barn, with stalls and hay loft and he fenced in an area of yard for our ponies to roam. Pam fed them every morning before school and in the evenings after school, she fed them, brushed them, mucked horse poop and did whatever else was necessary for their well-being.

We joined the 4-H. I remember going to a few meetings in the community building behind our volunteer fire hall. Prince could pull a cart. I vaguely remember dad taking me for a ride in the cart. Did Dad actually run Prince against other ponies in a cart race once?

Once, I walked too close behind Prince while he was grazing. I must have startled him as he bucked and kicked me in the teeth. I didn’t lose any, but I did bleed.

Tony was a mean pony. I didn’t like him. Truth was I was afraid of him. He bit Pam in the ass once. It was a nasty bite that made an ugly bruise. I think she may have been feeding him. She may still have a scar! Or was it her boob?

Neighbors down the road had a huge field and we would take the ponies there to graze. Queenie escaped once.  She walked about seven miles along the road – from country to suburbia and finally stopped walking at Ron Stephenson’s house. I remember his name because he was the news anchor at our local TV station, WJAC. Of the hundreds of homes that could have piqued her fancy, Queenie chose the one that would make the news. Well, that, and I think they had an apple tree that was pretty enticing. Later that night, on the news, for our whole town to see, was Mrs. Stephenson feeding Queenie apples. Yep, we were the “fluff” story of the day. And, of course, it took months to live it down at school.

I don’t know what ever happened to those ponies. I think we sold them or gave them away when we upgraded to horses. Pam would know and I hope she shares that in a comment.

Our collie, Amy, was a friendly dog. Shortly after giving birth to 13 puppies, she was hit by a car and died. Our new sister-in-law, living with us while her husband, my brother, served in Vietnam, hand fed this mass of puppies with an eyedropper every day while we were at school. By the time she got done going around with the dropper once, it was almost time to do it again. In the mornings before school and after school when we got home, we helped with the feedings, too. Well, no I really didn’t help much. I thought their bed stank of sour milk. It was mostly Pam that helped. She would assist with the puppy feedings right after she took care of the ponies. Like I said earlier, she was the good girl. Not all of the puppies survived. Maybe one of my sisters remembers how many did.

So, I just took a word count. I’m close to reaching 1,000 words! I could write more about just how doggone cute I was when I was eight! Or about the time I pooped my pants in school at that age because my third grade teacher, Mrs. Bowman, wouldn’t let me got the bathroom. Or, I could write more about the stone house, or my sister, or my super cool grandma or my mom.

I’m glad I stumbled upon this picture. Happy memories (well, except for pooping my pants at school)!

And, I should probably also tell you that I’m not crazy, either, (at least not any crazier than the average Joe).

But, right now, I’m thinking in threes.

To tell you why, I need to go back a few years. Shortly after my brother, Dennis, died in 2004, I tried my hand at communicating with him in the “afterlife.” It happened quite by accident. One day, while driving to Charleston to run a few errands, I was thinking about him and called out his name several times while driving down Highway 176. I was wondering if he could hear me, and so I asked him out loud if he could. “Do you know I’m thinking about you and miss you, today,” I asked? “Give me a sign, brother, to let me know you can hear me, please.” I wondered how he would indeed give me a signal if he could and started thinking that maybe he would come to me in the form of a deer in the field along the side of the road or a hawk overhead or something. I thought it would be cool to get a message, but really didn’t think that I would. I got the whole way into town and got a little teary eyed a few times, but I never received a sign.  On my way home, long after I had given up on seeing a sign, a big old ugly turkey buzzard flew right in front of the car! Oh, yes, that would be Dennis: not a graceful hawk or a beautiful deer, but the lowly turkey buzzard! When I got home, I relayed the story to Brian and we agreed that it would do no harm and actually be a lovely thought to believe it was a sign from Dennis.

The second time I received a message from Dennis was not too long after that first incident. I was working part-time as a newspaper reporter and was working late one night with my boss doing page layout for the upcoming issue. My boss called me into her office as she was instant messaging her friend in Utah to ask me what my recently deceased brother looked like. Her friend had just gotten a vision while messaging my boss of a guy in jeans, boots, denim jacket, ball cap and she didn’t recognize him. He was holding three yellow roses, did either of us know who he might be? Well, the outfit sounded like my brother and, yes, the yellow roses were significant, too as they were my mothers favorite.

A third incident occurred several years ago when my sisters were visiting. We had spent the day in Charleston and Folly Beach, acting like tourists, but also visiting a few of my brother’s hangouts. We even stepped in to the Sand Dollar, the bar on Folly Island, where he died. As we were on our way home and talking about him and I was relaying my two paranormal incidents to them, a buzzard flew right in front of the car. Yep, it was almost in exactly the same place where I had seen the other buzzard months earlier.

So, the other day I went to Charleston to do some shopping at the Pet Smart. And, as I usually do, when I got to “that place” on Highway 176, I yelled out to my brother. I said, “Hey, Dennis, How are you doing? Can you hear me? Can you do something to give me a sign? How’s Mom and Dad? Can they hear me? Why don’t you all get together and summon up all your energies and give me a sign? One sign from each of you? Something in threes? Yes, like three hawks or three deer or even a set of triplets at the pet store, I know you can do it.”

And, I concentrated hard the rest of the trip there and back. I’ve been concentrating on it for days, but so far, nothing. 

So, I’ve been thinking about why I am even doing this thing. It seems silly in a way. But, I wonder, if maybe, when a person first dies, his spirit hangs around for a little while.  I mean, if the spirit is a living thing, it just lost its house! So, maybe it takes a little while – a few days, or weeks, or months, or even longer, to leave the in-between place of this world and move on to the next.  

Maybe that is a crazy notion and the only reason a person sees signs is because he looks until he finds them. Purely coincidental. Or, maybe, it’s not so crazy, but my brother’s spirit is finally too far away now to hear me. Or maybe, I just need to concentrate a little harder.

What do you think?

Well, we did a lot more than just that on our yearly vacation together, but those sisters of mine wore me out and I’ve been just too pooped to write!

I tried to upload our Dance Heads DVD on You Tube, but it will not convert  to MPEG, so the world may not ever see our amazing performance!  But, embarrasing as many of them are, here are some of the pictures:

We rode the Rollo Coaster at least three times. I could scratch that off my bucket list, but have decided that I want to ride it again when I am 80!

I  enjoyed seeing Linda’s new house. (Well, it’s not new to her, but it was the first time I had ever been there.) She sent her hubby away or maybe he volunteered to vacate the house for our visit! (Our husbands don’t care to hang around for the four sister act, although I can’t imagine why.) It’s a nice house and now I can visualize Linda in her kitchen or at her computer. She made a Pepper Steak dinner our first night there and she has promised to send it to me so I can post it on this website. (Super easy and super good.)

We spent one afternoon at Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens. This is a beautiful steel and glass Victorian-style greenhouse located in Pittsburgh (at Schenley Park in the Oakland section of town).

What a wonderful place! It was built in 1893 by Henry Phipps as a gift to the city of Pittsburgh.

A sustainable perennial garden, requiring minimal water and fertilizers surrounds the front entryway.

Once inside, the structure is divided up into different botanically themed “rooms.” The best way to tour it, according to our docent, is to start at the Palm Court and only make right turns. So, that is what we did. And, it was a rather smart idea, since we would have surely gotten lost a number of times had we strolled through it willy nilly.

There are something like 17 rooms and additional outdoor garden areas – Palm Court, Serpentine Room, Fern Room, Orchid Room, Outdoor Garden, Stove Room, South Conservatory, Tropical Fruit and Spice Room, Discovery Garden, Tropical Forest Conservatory, Sunken Garden, Desert Room, Japanese Courtyard, Victoria Room, Broderie Room, East Room, Aquatic Garden, Botany Hall…

An exhibition of  artwork by Hans Godo Frabel is currently on display throughout the conservatory. His glasswork is extraordinary and is so artfully interwoven into the gardens.

I believe this photo was taken in Palm Court. You can see several beautiful glass masks near the base of the palm.

We ended our tour with a trip into the gift shop where Pam, bought each of us a glass teardrop shaped necklace followed by a visit to the cafe for a late lunch.

Of course, there is so much more to write about the sister vacation. Those stories are coming! But please view these remarkable pics of Phipps Conservatory and please visit there if you are ever near Pittsburgh, PA.