I saw a ghost!


Or at the very least, something I just cannot explain.

Ok, I’m going to be really cool about this. No hysterics, no freaking out, just calm and collected….

I was sitting on my bed today. (Broad daylight) I can see directly to the front veranda from there as there are big glass sliding doors with wooden venetians.
The door and blinds were open to let the breeze in.
My view from the bed includes the top of the veranda stairs which lead directly to the front door.

I saw a figure which I immediately sensed was female because she was short-ish and small framed wearing a light grey hoodie walk up the stairs, directly to the front door.
When I say I “sensed” it was female….I just couldn’t see her face or hair, just saw a person, as real as any person I’ve ever seen but couldn’t see who it was because of the hood – and she walked quickly, with purpose, like she was quite comfortable walking into our house.

I saw her reach for the screen door, heard and saw it open….heard it close behind her…
My bedroom doors were ajar so I waited to see the person walk past into the kitchen /living area…
I was watching to see WHO it was because I thought it was odd that they were wearing a hoodie like that…..all covering up their entire face as though they were really cold.

My immediate thought was that it must be my daughters friend Toni because she’s staying here for a few nights….and besides myself she is the only short -ish person in the house… Everyone else are giants, even my fifteen year old son now towers above me.
I thought maybe Toni had gone out to her car to get something….
But nobody walked past my bedroom doors and the only other room to go into is the front lounge room.
That’s usually my sons hangout ….but I knew it couldn’t be him because the person I saw was short and “appeared” to be female.

All of this, seeing it, thinking, pondering – the whole thing was mere minutes….and before I had a chance to get up and go and see if it was my son, my husband suddenly appeared walking up the steps. He too came inside the front door but I DID see him walk past my room.
Ok, so it must have been my son, I thought…

I went into the lounge room, and there was nobody there.
So I went into the kitchen to see which one of them was wearing the grey hoodie.
All four people were in the kitchen. Toni, Shai, my husband and my son.
NONE of them was wearing a grey hoodie.
“Is there someone else here?” I asked
(My daughter HAD had a bunch of friends over earlier in the afternoon.)
No…everyone had gone. I knew that.
Nobody else was here. (trust me, I checked.)

And THEN I freaked out!

As unbelievable as it sounds, plain as day, as real as any real person, I watched a girl in a grey hoodie walk into my house, heard and saw the screen door close and then seemingly “disappeared” into thin air.

This is the second time in my lifetime that I think (can’t come up with any other explanation) that I have seen a ghost.

I know it’s unbelievable. I understand the skepticism. I know it looks suss because I am INTO all things of this nature, the mysterious, the ghostly….and heck, I just posted up photo’s today showing that I do enjoy delving into these more “dark” things.
I swear though, I am not embellishing anything that I write here on this blog about the very strange happenings that have occurred ever since we moved here.

In fact, just a few days ago I had a friend over…and thank God….finally a witness! We were sitting talking in the kitchen when we both (including the dog that was under my feet at the table AND my husband who was in the next room) heard something fall to the ground and make a thud. It set the dog off barking and my friend and I searched the room and ajoining rooms to see what had fallen (sounded rustly like a plastic bag hitting the floor) and there was nothing to be found anywhere!

I want to know WHY we are seeing, hearing and experiencing so MUCH of this stuff?

Experimental photography.


I’ve been playing again with the darker side of photography :)

Should have seen the look on a drivers face as he drove home from work late one night to see my daughter standing by the side of the road dressed like a ghost from the past….


I’ve been meaning to take this picture for some time now. It’s a dark street we sometimes walk down at night with the dog. Only dark for a short way as the road curves but spooky none the less.

Shai night 2-2  1000

Last night we played with a smoke machine my brother bought me ages ago. Some interesting effects.

This one looks like Shai has an evil imaginary friend….goading her on. “Go on, DO it! You know you want to!”

Evil imaginary friend 1000

Interesting how the lighting worked in this one. Almost looks like infrared photography….a little bit anyway. Her skin looks almost opaque.

SMOKE 1000

The cat came running into where we were in my music room and disappeared into the shadows miaowing. Shai thought he might have had a mouse so she ran outside.
When she peered in through the screen door ( the salt air is making the mesh corrode – hence the flecks in it) I said “Hold it….wait….I need to take a photo of that!”
Interesting hey.

let me in 2 1000

Light reflected through an oven pan with lots of small holes in it.

Dotty shadows 1000

Mist….kind of looks a bit retro doesn’t it?

MiST-2 1000

Anyway, that’s it for now….having a lazy Sunday not doing much at all.   :)

Lamp posts


cool street lamp sm

Thoughts tumble like sharp stones in my mind.
Chasing the elusive rainbows of sleep all I find are murky corners, where dis ease lurks.
What is happiness anyway?
My dog knows happiness. It is a lamp post…and the next and the next and if tonight there are no walks, no lamp posts, he doesn’t seek therapy, or drown his sorrows, or sulk resentfully in his own pool of disappointment.
He simply waits for tomorrow.

What’s “really’ in a dream then?


To follow up from my dream post the other day I thought I’d delve a bit deeper.

We all dream.
We all MUST dream.
If we don’t dream we literally go nuts, so even if you don’t remember your dreams, be assured you ARE having them….or else you ARE nuts. :)

So why?
It’s a really stupid thing – I’ve said this before…SLEEPING is a dumb thing.
What a waste of time! A third of your life lying down utterly useless in bed.
To dream.

So why DO we dream..oh there are so many theories.
I don’t dispute the idea that it’s a way to “de junk” your mind. Of course!
The brain gets seriously overburdened by all the stimuli it receives so the de junking thing makes sense.

Here are some more theorised “reasons” for dreaming…


But essentially there is no actual proof of why we dream. At least I don’t think there is?
So it’s a bit of a mystery then.

Ok, so “what if”….. What if we truly ARE a spirit being within a human shell?
That we really are – the CORE of us really is a “soul” and we’re just using this physical manifestation to experience …a human LIFE.
What if then, when we dream it’s really time to recharge our “souls”.
You know….kind of like charging your phone

Perhaps even….woah, I’m getting deep now….
Perhaps a way for all of our CONNECTIVE souls (I really do believe we are all connected somehow) to share and exchange energies/information? in a state of altered consciousness….in this “resting” state.

Obviously the whole WORLD doesn’t sleep at exactly the same time….but maybe half the hemisphere all lying down – dreaming? at more or less the same time…Well, that’s some pretty strong energy happening isn’t it?
When you think about it then…at all times of the day, all over the world there’s this collective unconsciousness thing going on between very large groups of ….souls.
Or just crazy?

All food for thought hey.

Well how this for thought…

On the 12th of February I posted something on Facebook…I posted it because I always do this thing where if something “odd” happens that frightens me because it feels like it might be some sort of premonition I MUST tell someone – therefore in my screwed logic, if I put it “out there” then it won’t come true.
This is what I wrote…

“I woke up at 4.30 am with Shai’s voice in my head saying “It’s time.”
What does this mean? Oh…it sounded ominous…or my paranoia made it sound ominous. She didn’t SAY it ominously. It’s just so open to interpretation. What? What does this MEAN?”

On the 16th of February my mothers partner committed suicide.
She showed me his suicide note. It was brief and at the end it said “It’s time”.

What do you make of that then hey?

Ages ago a similar thing happened when my mother woke up with MY voice in her head saying “You’re going to a funeral soon.” It unnerved her so much at the time that she mentioned it to me.
The next day her neighbour was hit by a car and died a few days later in hospital.

What are we ?
Or collective souls?



Outside police sirens screamed into the night with a sense of urgency and commotion.
I sensed frantic activity somewhere “out there” but inside I was trapped…paralysed, unable to speak or scream or move a muscle.
As I lay helpless on the bed suddenly a bright white light filled the doorway and from the corner of my eye I saw a man wearing a white protective suit enter the bedroom.
He said nothing and at first only stepped slightly into the room and began to shine a torch of some kind onto my body.
As the light hit my body it seemed to pulsate into me….a strange low drone like throb was audible and at the same time I could sense the vibrations somehow penetrating deep inside me.
The man in the suit moved slightly across the room, but still not close to the bed and once again shone the torch onto my abdominal region.
It was like he was carrying out a procedure of sorts.
He seemed strangely calm and unhurried, even though outside with the sirens still screaming there was obvious urgency.
It struck me as odd and unnerving that he was so calm and seemed not to care that the police, or emergency people were out there.
He seemed to have an intention….an agenda all of his own.

Panic welled up inside me. I wanted to call out so desperately.
Wanted to escape….break free of this cocoon of paralysis but it was useless.
All I could do was lay there and let this man do whatever it was he was going to do.

It seemed that I must have passed out, for the briefest of moments.
Suddenly I awoke again but could not see the man at the other end of the room.
He was right beside me.
I felt him sit gently on the edge of the bed at my side.
I could hear the rustle of his suit….his breaths coming slow and regular.
His calmness terrified me more than anything, but still I could not move or scream.
I was completely powerless!

I felt him gently move aside my T.shirt exposing my bare stomach.
He sat for a moment, a mere second and I actually heard his lip noises as he pursed and unpursed his lips then inhaled.
I saw a large blade in his hand.
Felt as he pressed it against my skin…right under my ribcage above my liver.
Then he slowly began to push it into me…deeper and deeper the knife penetrated my body.
I felt no pain…only terror.

And then I woke up with my heart racing, absolutely unnerved by the dream.

What I CAN be!


I’ve fallen quiet again as of late. Been caught up with some family stuff and also just….tired.
Tired, that’s what you say. I know my 18 year old daughter has to say that at Tafe to her new friends on days when she feels… well, she feels in pain. Her joints ache, her chest hurts, her head hurts, even behind her ears hurt where there are no joints or anything you would think that could be inflamed and cause arthritis like pain….but believe it or not it hurts, for her.
But try explaining that to people…..”Behind my ears hurts and no I’m not having a heart attack but my chest hurts.”
Easier just to say “I’m tired”.

See, she also has Hashimoto’s and I understand a little of how she feels, although how her auto immune disease affects her is different to how it affects me, is different to how it affects my other daughter and is different to how it affects thousands of others. If not millions. I don’t know the figure but I just joined a new Hashimoto’s group and I’m astounded at how many new members join up every DAY and the ways in which it affects them is uniquely different, and yet we’re all the same in one.
We all feel crazy…we all feel largely ignored and misunderstood by the medical community, and we all ultimately say the same thing.
“I want my life back!”

So what IS an auto immune disease anyway?
Well, basically your own body attacks itself. See’s a particular organ as “the enemy” and tries to get rid of it. Strange, but sometimes the body just malfunctions and gets it wrong.
So in the case of Hashimoto’s it decides to attack the thyroid gland. In my daughters case she also has a type of arthritis so her joints are affected.
Your thyroid gland controls so much…unbelievable little thing it has with so many responsibilities.
Metabolism, mood, temperature (it’s like your inner thermostat) digestion is affected by poor thyroid function – and vice versa, even your reproductive hormones are controlled by the thyroid. (tell me about it!)
So when it goes dicky…well life can be one big ball of fun. :)

I was feeling frustrated again tonight by my “tiredness” and vented a little at the dinner table.
I know soon I will be going to see yet another doctor to try and get some answers – an integrated medicine doctor this time. I have been told by others that she will insist that I go dairy free, gluten free, sugar free and soy free.
It’s all these things that can cause inflammation you see, and inflammation is the devils work….basically it is the WORST thing for your already overactive immune system to cope with.

I am not looking forward to it because….God, do you realise that SOY is in almost everything in the supermarket! And….it’s in nearly every chocolate bar known to man :( (cry) but that doesn’t matter does it because I can’t have sugar either ( Ugly cry!!!)

Anyway, so I was feeling a bit daunted by the prospect of living on lettuce leaves….but then I came across this article.


…..and I had a lightbulb moment…

Basically the part in there that gave me the light bulb moment was this…

“Despite her best efforts to control things with her lifestyle habits, she seems to go backwards, causing her to lament, again, that no one knows what the hell is going on. Says the endo to O’Rourke: “This may just be how it’s going to be. You may always feel like you’re eighty per cent.”

Wow. And shit. And tears. And just for good measure, let’s read that again:

You may always feel like you’re eighty per cent.

80 per cent. And that’s at your best. What are the implications of this?

For me, it’s relief and sadness in equal measure. It’s a fact: I’ve not felt beyond 80 per cent – even on my best days – in six years. I’ve grasped and reached and tried in an effort to get beyond this ceiling. One day…one day I’ll feel good again. To think this is actually out of reach for the rest of my life saddens me to the core.

But, to be honest, the simultaneous relief I feel is greater than the sadness. For it gives me a leave pass from trying and reaching so hard. And I can back off.

I realise I have a choice. I can keep being the frustrated, forever reaching “sick” person. Or I can get OK with 80 per cent. And get on with the remaining years of my life.

In more dramatic moments I’ve wondered if it’s worth living if I can’t get back to normal, if I keep failing and lapsing.

But with this slight shift of perspective I can see peace is about accepting “a new normal”.

Simple isn’t it.
I just have to accept.
Not “give up”. Of course not….not for my daughters sakes.

I WILL try this restrictive…give up everything (including chocolate – waaah!) diet…
I WILL keep reading everything I can on the subject.
I WILL keep challenging doctors (oh they love me.)
BUT…….I will also go easier on myself.

On days when I really have no energy to do anything except “the basics” as I call it….well, there WILL be days when I WILL be able to do more.
I will try NOT to be so frustrated and feel like I am “wasting my life” because I can’t do a million creative things that are buzzing around in my head but I don’t have the “zing” to actually DO them.

I WILL repeat to myself “this is going to pass” each time depression takes hold and skews my perception.

I WILL accept that sometimes sleep just does not come, and other times it comes too much….at some point there will be a time just like the bears discovered…when everything is “just right”.

I’m just going to get on with it now…. Do whatever I have to, but not STRESS so much about trying to get back to “how I was.”
What I know I CAN be, is more achievable.

The trauma of tea.



Yesterday my 18 year old (Shai) was driving me potty, about tea.
Of all things for a girl of her age to be in such angst about it is TEA.
Not just your regular twinings tea though, no. She likes expensive SPECIAL teas.. You know all those flowery herbal type teas that can be ludicrously pricey.

I don’t know what the appeal is….most of them (Like chinese tea) to me, taste like the bath water I remember pouring into my tea set cups as a child in the bath and drinking. And the ones with a BIT of flavour taste like the flower herbal concoctions I’d mix up after picking flowers and weeds in my mothers garden as a kid, and made my brother drink my “potions”. (You know – if he dropped dead then it wasn’t wise for ME to try it.)

I just like regular black tea, with milk and one sugar. I don’t like it too strong either.

I know green tea is supposed to have SO many health benefits and trust me I have tried many times to like it but quite frankly, it’s horrible.
I’ve tried putting honey in it….given up and just put sugar…… I’ve tried green tea LEAVES, hoping to not get that slightly bitter aftertaste….tried not adding the water TOO hot to try and get rid of that bitter taste…..even cheated and dangled both a green tea bag AND a black one in my cup (that I can tolerate)
Nope, my taste buds object and simply prefer ordinary run of the mill black tea. Twinings English breakfast tea in particular.

It’s like some foods that I TRY to like….to feel like I am part of the world of sophisticated taste buds. Like olives for example. So many people enjoy olives. My husband LOVES them and always throws them in a salad.
At least twice a year I will try to like an olive….but I just don’t.
My taste buds refuse to make friends with that particular flavour.

So on her last birthday one of her friends gave Shai some “tea pigs”, from England. Strange little shaped tea bags of various flavours. I don’t know what they were as I didn’t pay much attention but THIS I think was what started her preoccupation with tea.

So the whole afternoon yesterday that’s all I heard was Shai going on (and ON) about whether or not she should order this tea from England and pay out all that money on it….or not.
Every five minutes she was popping her head in the door….lamenting on the pro’s and con’s of spending what very little money she has left to get this tea.
I was busy on the computer so because I didn’t give her my FULL attention she got all shirty with me.

“Help me decide mother! This is an important choice I have to make!”


“Shai….you either buy the tea or you don’t. Simple!”


Later as we went on a walk with the dog…..just because at the last minute I picked up my camera to take with us I was accused again of not being fully THERE for her. Not being INTERESTED…..Not being HELPFUL….Abandoning my duties as a parent in this moment of great conundrum in my precious daughters life!

The cheeky sod even dared ask me…
“If I pay HALF for the tea will you pay the other half?”


That evening the agony over whether or not to spend her money continued.
She really is tight I mean…TIGHT with her own money (We all joke about her tight wadded -ness) ….Mine is fine to spend but hers is something so precious that it makes her hyperventilate at the thought of having to part with it.
About the only thing Shai will spend her money on is books, and pencils for her drawing..and even then it’s an epic thing with lots of agonising and emotional breakdowns.

She even, in desperation put her dilemma out there on facebook.

This is part of the FB conversation. As you can understand, not many of her friends responded. The idea of tea being quite foreign to most of them.

Shai- Should I spend $30 on tea from England? (It’s delicious)

Keira ( her sister) a purchase like that will be hard for you! but its delicious!

Shai – It most definitely will. Also, the other day I bought the 3rd Hunger Games book, I found the shiny one! ^.^ But it was $25 and so it ripped my soul in half.

Keira – oh awesome! what colour was the third one? they’re so super shiny!

Shai – Silver/blue. I don’t want to read them and destroy their spines. Hahaha.

Tracy (Me) Will the tea rip your soul in half? If so, mathematically speaking your soul will be ripped in quarters if you make THIS purchase. Is the tea worth it. THAT my dear, is the question.

Shai – I DON’T KNOW. Ugh. It’s too hard to make important decisions.

Tracy – Never made a decision when you are in emotional turmoil. Just a bit of wise life wisdom there.

Of course you can read between the lines there and see that I’m really just chortling away, laughing at the preposterousness of the situation, and her, this very ODD child of mine.
In fact on facebook the other day I saw this….

(adj.) Unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet marvelous.

And I thought to myself…THAT should have been Shai’s middle name.

So…what has happened about the $30 tea from England you may ask?
Well, she forgot to do the conversion to Aussie dollars so the tea would work out to be about $50.
Shock horror! (Even to me) There’s no WAY Miss tight as a fishes bum will pay THAT, so…tonight I noticed she went out with her dad to Coles and bought three boxes of fancy fruity and berry and chamomile with almond and honey tea (Lipton and Twinings) for $8

When I asked if I could try one her eyebrows disappeared over the crest of her skull and she pointed to the cheapest box.
“You may try ONE of those.”

(Can you imagine when one day she has to buy a car?)

One more thing…
Another VERY weird thing about Shai is that when she DOES make a purchase (when the moon is full, all the planets are aligned and the universe vibrates in all the right ways.) she then arranges all her items and stares at them. “to make sure she is happy with her decision” …or something like that.
This was in the corner of the kitchen bench.
A “tea collection”.

tea bags