As promised, reader Bill (he’s about the 200th Bill around here, so it’s easy to get confused) sent in his WuJo experience:. Wujo being, if you’re a first-time reader, those events which DO happen but logically should NOT happen…
A couple of weeks ago, my wife was sitting at the head of the kitchen table going through the Sunday coupon insert. Sitting at the other head of the table was my mother and under the table was the dog. On the chair to her right (a 90 degree angle) was a plastic shopping bag that she was putting in the pages that she didn’t want so that they would eventually go in the garbage. I was going to eat my bowl of cereal for breakfast, so I took the bag and put it on the back of what is now my chair, as I was eating, she was still putting the unwanted pages into the bag. At some point, she stopped and we were talking, I don’t remember what we were talking about. With our small conversation over, she returned to her coupons, she reached for her bag and it was gone from the back of my chair. We looked all around and found it on the floor, behind my wife and to her left. It was laying there sort of like if you took a bag in your left hand, put it behind your back and dropped it. We were both amazed and sitting there puzzled. In no point in time did anyone of the three of us (My wife, my mother nor me) got up or move and the dog was still laying on the floor under the table. I knew it was a wujo event. I didn’t say it to my wife as I didn’t have time to tell her about what a wujo is.
I also must say that although I’m not psychic, I did attract two “beings” in my lifetime.
The first time, was my grandmother appeared to me. I was living alone, and my bedroom got very cold, and this “glowing being” appeared and said to me basically that her body was just a shell that she was leaving and that she was going to a better place and disappeared and the bedroom warmed up. This happened somewhere in the middle of a 10 year existence living with Alzheimer’s before she passed away. After I had that vision, my grandmother basically stopped talking and was basically just a living shell.
Somewhere between the first story and this next one, I had to put a loving 15 year old dog to sleep. At that time, he looked me in the eyes and I could feel that he said to me that he loved me and thank you for doing this as now his pain would be over (or maybe that’s just my monkey mind trying to interpret a blank stare in this emotional state). He had cancer which we didn’t know about.
The second time I had this vision of a little child covered in overalls with long curly brown hair in a baseball hat, looking to be about 2 years or so old as she would walk to the edge of the hallway talk to me and run back down the hallway. This child appeared many times to me, the first few times the message was always the same, which was basically “I’m here Daddy”, then it stopped for a month or so, they it started up again but the message was more concerned and had a deadline, the message was basically “hurry up Daddy, there’s not much time left” then like the first messages they stopped. At this point, I told my wife about this and neither one of us knew what these messages were about. Finally this child showed up a final time, and said “thank you Daddy”. A few days later, we found out my wife was pregnant with our third child a girl and although she never wore overalls nor wore a baseball hat, I realized that when she was about 2 years old, the “little child” vision was actually my third daughter announcing herself to me. Yes she did have long curly brown hair, and liked to run in the hallway.
Since I’ve been reading about these things for that past I don’t know how may years, and knowing what I’ve been through, I find myself at times saying to inanimate things “stay” so that they don’t move. I don’t say it to everything, but sometimes I get a feeling that I need to say it. I’m not sure if saying that keeps them there or not, but it makes me feel better knowing things are not going to move.
I also need to comment about today’s urbansurvival coping section. Being able to do 150 in a 70MPH speed limit is stupid. I did it years ago and then finally realized, that I don’t really feel like having someone picking up a bloodied lump and giving it to my family saying this was me. Speed limits are set up for safety, although I do agree that some are set artificially low to generate income or for some other stupid political reason.
Honestly, that did cross my mind, but only for a moment. Denial is a fine and useful tool through much of life. Now and then, perhaps helped along with a dose of sativa. When in an altered state, one comes to terms with the outcome of the Game being the same for all of us, and then you can put on your denial goggles and get back into the Sim. Seems to be how it works.
Speaking of the Sim
Got this here interesting note from Reader Matt R…
Two vivid recorded “EVP” incidents, on two separate radio programs, in a 45 day period?
Interesting pattern of escalation. Is something big about to happen?
There is no doubt about that…lots of “pending doom” in the air among people I talk to. But the flip side is that we may just be heading into what’s going to be a really bad winter and with that will come an unusual level of seasonal affects disorder, SAD so off to stock up on vitamin D, huh?
Speaking of the bad winter, you read where they’re digging “dead pits” for all the cattle killed up in South Dakota a week, or so back? Yuck.
Emails We like to Get
This is the kind of thing that makes writing Peoplenomics worthwhile:
Mr. Ure,
That was a damn fine piece of writing in today’s Peoplenomics.
I would place this piece in the top 5 articles you have written over the years.
I see myself going back and re-reading this one a few times……………..
Safe Travels,
Hey! Speaking of Peoplenomics: next Wednesday’s report will look at using your home workshop to set up a business making things…
A couple of readers asked me about my passing reference to making furniture last weekend, and here’s one of the pieces..this is a simple little bookcase which will go under the table by my favorite reading chair. Nothing fancy, may add some doo-dads to it to make it look a bit more Mission style, but for now, six coats of spar varnish.
We keep kicking around selling our place here in Texas to move back up by the kids and I mentioned this to Gaye over at www.backdoorsurvival.com. She asked a very reasonable question: “Are you sure you want to give up all that space?”
What Space?
All seems like it’s used up to me… I’m still trying to find a spot to put in the small wood stove so I can keep working on projects through the winter…speaking of which…
Around the Ranch
It’s fun being president of my own bank. The National Bank of Dad. The kind that doesn’t get any money, except that which I put in myself, which in that sense makes it like any of the regular banks I do business with.
But unlike a for-profit, the National Bank of Dad (NBoD) just flat-out gives away money. Of cou8rse to have to be related to one of the co-presidents…that’d be Elaine and me.
Daughter Denise was sorting out laundry to be done on the floor of her apartment t’other day when a six pound iron fell about 4-feet from a shelf (close organizer) and conked her on the head.
As a result, she had a couple of days off work with double vision and a mid concussion.
All of which qualified her for a new grant available from the NBoD in our new Daughters of Bank Presidents Who Get Hit on the Head with an Iron Grant.
Meantime, a former customer of the National Bank of Dad, my son G2, called in this week for a bit of advice. He’s finally figured out that having a 15-year old pick-up, which is bound to eat him alive in repairs in the not-too-distant-future, wanted some advice on car loans.
So armed, he went around to several car dealers in Seattle and finally got behind the wheel of his new 2014 Nissan Versa four-door for about $14,500 including tax and license. The sweet part was the financing: Zero down, 60 months and way under 4% thanks to his credit being in the low to mid 800s.
Apparently, some of the Bank’s customer edjumacation programs have paid off.
OK, more fun, games, and reality tomorrow morning…
Write when you break even…
George george@ure.net