- hello Nancy Fairbrother
- Username: Nancy13
- In response to: "What's the one thing you're never gonna give up?" Coffee! I love coffee. By the cup, coffee ice cream, mocha, coffee syrup, capuccino, coffee floats, iced coffee, and on and on.
- Nancy13's latest answers
- When I'm at My Best
When are you at your best?
I am at my best when I can start my day in my favorite way: with a cup of cappuccino, relaxing on the sofa, watching the sun come up with my two kitties - one on each side of me, purring. I don't think about anything, don't read, don't talk - just get used to being in the world again, wading in from the shallow end.
- Fascinating Periods in Time
What decade or era do you find particularly fascinating, and why?
The main reason I find any era fascinating is because of the clothes and the art. I am not a history buff, so what happened during these periods (with a few exceptions) is of secondary importance to me.
I love the clothes and the art of ancient Egypt. Of course, people went naked in Egypt, but when they wore clothes (I'm talking about the wealthy) they wore beautiful fabrics and precious jewels and gold. Yup, that's for me.
I love saris and Punjabi dresses. The fabrics and designs are beautiful, but they have nothing to do with a particular era. Oh, well.
The 1920s and 30s are another favorite era of mine. There was a lot of silk and satin, and women's clothing was no longer cumbersome and restrictive. Beading and embroidery were gorgeous, jewelry was still made with real precious metals and gems, and leather was leather and smelled like it. And art nouveau and art deco are among my favorite forms of design.
I love the shoulder pads of the 40s and the way stripes were used as accents and matched for perfect right angles on dresses and suits. Plus, the shoes, the shoes, and bakelight jewelry. Fake was becoming legitimate, even though no adult left the house without a hat on. There's more, but this will be too long if I go on.
My favorite part of the 50s was felt circle skirts and crinolines. So much fun to wear. And even better than that was the sack dress. Talk about emancipated. You could let your stomach relax and not worry about that 18" waist you didn't have.
The 60s - Rudy Gernreich with the topless swimsuit and big geometric prints and Mary Quant with the miniskirt and vinyl boots. Synthetic fabrics took over, bikinis, the beehive hairdo, platform shoes, and huge amounts of eye makeup made fashion fun.
For me, the 70s were a costume party, most of it ugly but still interesting because it was creative.
The best thing about the 80s for me were the huge shoulder pads and animal prints. I love to watch "Dynasty" just to look at the outfits, some of which look pretty bizarre today.
I don't find fashion today very interesting. We are more comfortable, but less colorful and stylish. Not much originality. You have to use your creativity these days if you want to be stylish, and I'm glad there are still people out there who do.
- Speaking With Family Members Who Have Died
What would you want to talk about?
Actually, I have spoken to several family members who have died. But the conversations weren't about their earthly lives. More about that later.
I'd like to know more about my father's life because he was an interesting person and a very classy man. I would like to sit down with my aunts and get all the family gossip. The wild one and my mother were good friends in high school, and my favorite aunt, who was the oldest, told me some tales about those two before she died.
Actually, I had a conversation with my favorite aunt several months (maybe a year) after she died. She came to see me and made her presence known by trying to get into my body.
As I was going about some mundane business one day, the back of my neck began to tingle and I felt dizzy. At first I was startled, but after I cleared my energy I understood what was happening.
Like many who pass on, my aunt had been visiting people she knew when she was present on the earth plane. She seemed confused and frustrated because she didn't have a body any more. And she didn't like my apartment at all. She wanted to be in her house, which she loved.
We had a conversation about her present state and the possibilities that were open to her, and she agreed to go with her spirit guides into the light. Two other souls were with her, who may have been my wild aunt and my mother. They went with her, and it was more important to me to facilitate that than to take time to verify who they were. Besides, Auntie was in a hurry, and I wasn't about to hold her up.
My mother, my wild aunt, and my grandfather have come to me on different occasions, probably because they somehow knew I could help them. I've had unique contact experiences with my mother and father, and will write about them another time.
I'm glad I was with my loved ones once more before they went on and that I was able to help them when they asked for it.
- If I Could Predict the Future
Would you want to know your future? If so, how much would you want to know?
When I look into my future, I only want the good news. I do not want to have my inner Scaredy Cat put on alert in anticipation of the bad stuff happening, which certainly does happen. Or my inner Control Freak, which becomes preoccupied with finding ways around that which I see that displeases me. I have not evolved yet to the point of calm acceptance.
I sometimes probe my future through Tarot cards. That's how I know about my Inner Scaredy Cat and my Inner Control Freak. When I am concerned about my future I read the cards, and they never lie. Sometimes my future is not revealed through the cards; then I know I'm not supposed to know. Which gets me more curious. But we won't go there.
I am learning to become more accepting of the upsetting things I may see in my future. I try to see the lesson in what I'm being shown so I can take action to avoid an unsatisfactory outcome. I've learned that sometimes it's possible to do that, but sometimes the ugly stuff comes barreling mercilessly on, unavoidable. Then I feel like Charlie Brown (Arghhhhhhhh!) but ten times more panicky.
As this ugliness approaches (Ack!) and my panic mounts, I search for ways to deal with it. Strictly from fear, mind you, not from choice. After surviving too much of this drama, I'm finally approaching acceptance (haven't reached calm yet).
By acceptance, I don't mean passively allowing myself to get flattened by the steamroller of ugliness. I mean acceptance with a plan in place to deal with it.
Sometimes it feels like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. The good part about it is still being in the barrel once over the falls. But the fun's not over yet. There's getting out of the water, being freed from the barrel, and treating the bumps and bruises.
I'm really no different from anyone else on this earth. We all have stuff to deal with. The trick is not becoming preoccupied with it. After all, sometimes there's good news in those cards.
- My First Experience with Death
What was yours?
My first experience with death was with my cat, Max. This was many years ago when my sister-in-law gave us a Siamese kitten. She was breeding Siamese cats at the time. Max had all the positive traits of Siamese cats; he was not inbred, thanks to his mother, who was not from our area. No crossed eyes, crooked tail, or crazy behavior that was commonly associated with the breed.
He was a great conversationalist, he could jump from the floor onto the top of the refrigerator without half trying, and he was as friendly as a puppy. Everybody loved him.
When it was time for him to neutered, we took him to the vet for the simple operation.
A few hours later, we received a call from the vet. He felt so bad about the sorrowful message he had for us. Max had died on the operating table from suffocation when he received the anesthetic. Immediately the vet investigated and found that Max had a ruptured diaphragm, probably from jumping or falling from a great height out of a tree. He had been using his stomach muscles to breathe.
We had never heard of anything like that happening before. I was so sad, I couldn't even look at his body. I couldn't bear to be present at his burial in our back yard. I cried for days.
I don't remember how I recovered, but receiving another Siamese kitten from my sister-in-law probably had something to do with it. We named him Andy, and he grew into a big, handsome adult. He was put at stud for a short time before he was neutered, and we took a kitten from one of his litters. Father and son lived to a ripe old age and were a constant source of pleasure and delight.