Ghosts in a Graveyard

I love this twin gravestone for a husband and wife.

First off, I'm a writer of paranormal gothic romances, so it's pretty obvious I love all things spooky and strange. Lately I've been posting photos on my Facebook and Twitter sites relating to the paranormal, romantic, gothic, and the haunted. I thought I'd like to do a little more from the paranormal angle so I tried coming up with ideas on what to post.

It wasn't hard. Having lived in New England for 17 years now, I've noticed this area has a LOT of graveyards. Just within a couple miles of our house, there are five that I know about. Our yard even has one! Believe it or not, that was a selling point in its favor when we bought the house.

So I grabbed my cell phone and traveled to the various graveyards, five in all. I took numerous photographs of gravestones, stone entryways and walls, wrought-iron gates, and the like. It was a nice time - graveyards are so peaceful - and I looked forward to going to others another day.

Then I found something.

To be clear, I wasn't looking for paranormal activity - the thought never even crossed my mind, actually. I just like graveyards and they, of course, are often considered places linked to the paranormal. The last graveyard I visited was the largest and I spent some time there, wandering in and out amongst the tombstones, snapping pictures and enjoying the sunny day (though, being me, I would've preferred a dark and gusty one).

When I got home, I downloaded the photos onto my computer and scrolled through them. About 10-12 photos into the last graveyard, I noticed two photos, one taken right after the other, that seemed to be washed out. I was disappointed, since those photos are the only ones I took of that particular tombstone. Thinking I would probably delete them, I scrolled farther down and noticed another photo of a different gravestone that had the same effect, though more localized. Hmm.... That was odd. The first two photos I figured were from a sun effect. The strange thing was, my back was to the sun. You can actually see my shadow on the tombstone.

Gravestone Monument - Photo 1

Gravestone Monument - Photo 2

I have to admit I kind of think the first photo looks like a fish - see the eye and mouth on the right side of the monument? Had I caught a ghost fish? Weird, which brings me to another weird thing - what is that open space (the eye) where there isn't any blue/purple? A head? A smudge? I really don't know. But I know it ain't right. Ha.

With the third photo, the sun was more to my left and the tombstone was in shadows, though I think I was standing in the sun when I took the picture. This stone was on the opposite side of the graveyard and much closer to the entrance. Note the two 'open' spots on the far right.

Gravestone With Odd Blue/Purple Streaker

Having a Ph.D. in Counseling Psychology, I've had a lot of training on how to be a scientist. Some would call psychology a 'soft' science because it's a nebulous subject to study - how do you measure behavior or personality in a standardized fashion when humans are so unique? But because of that bias, I think at some level we are trained to be even more rigorous and untrusting.

So naturally I had to set about debunking the pictures. I looked up blue/purple streaks on the Internet for camera phones and found nothing for my particular phone. I think an apple phone might have had some pinkish-blue effect, but it didn't look like what I had and I don't have an apple phone. Not finding anything obviously doesn't mean there isn't a problem with the camera on the phone, but as far as I could see, no one else had posted any of those problems on the Internet. I have never had this issue before, and haven't had it since (though it's only been a few days).

Ghost Hunting

Was it a sun effect? Well, I had to be sure. The next day was gusty and gray and I took my boys along with me to do a little 'ghost' hunting. We're amateurs at best, but we tried our best to go in with open, scientific minds. We had 3 different cameras going, 2 camera phones and one regular one. We took a lot of pictures, my youngest tried to entice the 'ghost' with promises of fame if it showed itself, then headed back home, the rain starting before we'd gone ten feet.

A Family Affair

We got nothing. No blue streaks, no faces, no strange forms, no odd experiences (though I didn't have any strange experiences the day before, either). The youngest was very disappointed, but he has learned how hard it is to be a ghost hunter.

Did I do something to the camera? Maybe I touched the lens and created the streak. It was quite possible with my fumble fingers. So this morning I tried my theory out. I took two pictures with my back to the sun and two facing it. Before each shot, I rubbed my finger over the lens, quite thoroughly, and took the picture. Nothing. All four were clear as a bell. I'd like to say that eliminates that theory as an explanation, but maybe not. Maybe it depends on the angle of the sun and I wasn't at the same angle as I'd been with those 3 photos. Who knows?

Our Graveyard on a Dark and Windy Day

In the end, I had a fun time taking pictures of the old graves around the area and I plan to write another blog talking about the 'stories' behind a few of the stones - stories derived just by reading the tributes.

So what do you think? Ghost or camera malfunction? As much as I'd like to think I was visited by someone or something from a different realm - a haunted realm - I also am not someone who wants to deceive others or myself.

But it is fun to believe, if only for a little while, isn't it?

~~~~~~

Update (8/2/14) ~ A friend of mine who knows photography said that what I was experiencing was a color banding issue. Okay. Makes sense. Well, my family and I were out and about yesterday, visiting several different sites around Portsmouth. One place we stopped was a cemetery, and guess what? I got two more photos here (of the same object - an angel) with the coloring issues...but nowhere else. What we can't figure out is why this 'issue' happens only in cemeteries! Here's one of the angel photos:

Angel Statue in South Cemetery

You be the judge...

~~~~~~

For more Mischief, Mystery, and Magic...

The Wrath - A Paranormal Gothic Romance

I Shall Return - A Paranormal Gothic Romance

Paranormal Ponderings...

Cool Photo, huh?

What started my paranormal ponderings? I think I've always believed in a world that exists beyond my average, everyday life. I think most of us do, or want to, anyway. Why not? Believing in the unusual adds a little spice to life, especially during cold New England Januaries and Februaries. Besides, since I can't actually rule out the existence of mythical creatures, ghosts, and the like, I've decided that it would behoove me to keep an open mind about most everything.

Inspired by Ghost Hunters!

At the moment, I'm busy editing my book, I Shall Return, which is a Paranormal Gothic Romance, and have also published a PGR called The Wrath. Writing these books has stirred up memories of my own paranormal experiences, so I thought I'd share a few of them with you.

Unfortunately, I haven't had many. Actually, my husband, who's a software engineer, has had more than I have. It's a little annoying. I'm supposed to be the creative one, the sensitive one, and he's the one who sees ghosts. Ah, well. Maybe I'm just TOO sensitive. Ha.

Could it have been a fairy light?

My first experience dates back to my childhood in Minnesota. Outside my window, about twenty feet away, stood a large spruce tree (they look like your typical Christmas tree). As this tree grew, the lower branches died off, leaving a cleared out area beneath the tree. At night, when I had trouble sleeping, I'd sit on my bed, chin resting on my folded arms, and stare out the window into the darkness. Only it wasn't always dark. There were nights when I would spot a tiny pinpoint of light beneath the tree. I'd stare at it and stare at it, watching to see if it would move, but it never seemed to. At first I thought it had to be something under the tree - an old coffee can or chicken feed bucket - that reflected the light. Of course, in thinking this, I was also quite aware that there really aren't any big sources of light in the dark Northern woods of Minnesota (keep in mind, all the lights in the house were out since everyone was asleep - we go to bed early in Minnesota - what else is there to do?). Even if there were lights, they would have a hard time reaching beneath the branches of the full tree. Still, one morning I remembered to go out and check for evidence and found nothing. No metal of any kind, not even a strange plant or mushroom that might give off a phosphorescent glow (though the light was more like a tiny flashlight or lantern). I continued to see that light for many years, and I still wonder what made it. A fairy 'leaving the light' on for the return of a loved one? Perhaps. It's as good a theory as any. Or was it a lure for unsuspecting folk? I never did check the light at night. Growing up in Minnesota teaches one to develop a healthy sense of survival.

Our old place. The half window marks where the attic is.

My second experience happened more recently. I was in my late twenties and living in an old New England house, which had been divided into various apartments. I loved living there, with its hardwood floors and old doors. Our apartment had the only access to a giant attic, which we used for storage. Its ceilings were so high that I swear you could've fit a tall ship in there. I had recently given birth to my first child and my sister had come from Minnesota to visit. I, of course, showed her the attic (people in my family like attics) and while up there, I started chattering on about something. A few seconds later, something cold and 'wet' touched my elbow. I swiped it away, distantly thinking it was a water drop. It happened again. I swiped at it and went on talking. It happened again. After a few moments, it occurred to me that the attic was as dry as a bone, meaning no water droplets. It seemed that someone was trying to get my attention. Either that, or he/she was trying to get me to shut up. On a side note, my husband didn't like the attic. He said he felt like someone was always watching him up there. In another room of the house, he said he could sense something bad or off in there. Great. That was where we put the baby's crib. Come to think of it, we ended up moving the crib into our bedroom. Go figure. My husband never mentioned these feelings before we moved (other than that I knew he didn't like the attic), though maybe I sensed something, too, and got my innocent baby out of that room before he could be turned into the male version of Stephen King's Carrie.

I've always been a big proponent of listening to signs. Some time after moving into our first home, I kept spilling my water. I drank a lot at the time (water, not booze) and kept spilling it. Over and over. Either I was deteriorating physically, or something else was wrong. Since I wasn't experiencing any other symptoms, in any other way, I knew I needed to look further into the phenomenon. It took me a while, but I finally figured that maybe someone was trying to tell me something about our water. So, long story short, we got it tested. Turned out, it had some bad stuff in it. We bought a filter system and it took care of the problem, and after that, I stopped spilling my water all the time. Coincidence? Maybe. Cool? Definitely.

Another sign I pay attention to comes in the form of my dreams, one of which I remember quite vividly. I kept dreaming that my youngest son was drowning. I endured three dreams where this happened, and each

The little guy who was saved by dreams.

time, I managed to save him. Not long after having my scary dreams, we visited the town beach. We'd been there for a while when the wind started picking up, turning the water choppy. My two-year-old was in the shallow water wading. My older two were farther out. My husband got low blood sugar and we decided to call it a day. I left my youngest to go fetch my older two, who couldn't seem to hear me over the wind and waves. But then I was hit by the sense that this was a bad idea, even though the water where he was standing was only about a foot and half deep. I had only taken a few steps, but when I turned back, he had already gone under (he must have gotten dizzy from watching the waves and sort of slipped in so his back ended up on the bottom). I remember his blue eyes staring up at me through the water, slightly perplexed. I was there within a second, and quickly pulled him into my arms. He was fine, if a little startled at what had happened. I yelled really loudly for my other two to come in right now, and this time they heard me. After having those dreams, I'd been feeling hyper-vigilant all day, and that feeling made me turn back, just in time. Scary, but a good lesson - listen to your dreams, especially if they tell you to buy my books.

Perhaps what happened to me could be explained away, but what's the fun in that? You can try, though, and if you come up with an alternative explanation, let me know. At any rate, I'll write another blog another day about a few more paranormal experiences that my family has encountered.

Until then, keep on believing...

A Spelunking I Will Go

At a little nook of a cave in Custer's State Park

There's a reason I wrote a fantasy series about an underground world...I love caves! I think I would live in one if I could. A simpler dream of mine is to someday explore a cave without following a cement path or listening to a guide. I want to get down and dirty and crawl on my belly and maybe even get stuck once or twice. I've visited several caves in my day, but as all cave junkies know, the guided tours, though typically fun and interesting, can leave you feeling unfulfilled.

Getting Squeezed

Here in New Hampshire, we have two major cave sites: Polar Caves Park and my favorite, Lost River Gorge. Neither have big or long caves, but they're enjoyable all the same. Both can be done without a guide. My favorite part at Lost River is the Lemon Squeezer. It's a squeeze, all right, and if you can't make it through the squeeze gauge, you can't go through the cave. Part of the passage involves pulling yourself along on your stomach, past a stream that bubbles by on your right. This cave can be closed at certain times of the year due to flooding, so either call ahead, or make sure it's been dry lately.

In New York  a few years back, we visited Howe Caverns. I liked the caves well enough-they weren't my favorite, but I did like two parts quite a bit. The first was the ride in the boats on the underground river. In Anaedor, you would ride the Turbles, which would be more fun, but smellier. The other cool part was the Winding Way, a very narrow passage with high walls that winds back and forth (hence the name). It felt very constricting, which was awesome.

Reminds me of Willie Wonka's chocolate river ride.

The Winding Way

Every coffee lover's dream.

Recently we traveled home to Minnesota to visit family. When we were done meeting all one thousand of them (my husband comes from a family of 9 kids), we drove to South Dakota Black Hills territory (which is gorgeous, btw). It was a LONG drive (8 hours), but worth it. We visited the Badlands and Wall Drug on the way out, both of which are fascinating landmarks, for very different reasons. I remember both from my childhood, though vaguely. The Badlands were hot and Wall Drug had ice water and cool stuff to buy. Both are still the same.

The wind is blowing the plastic strip.

While in the Black Hills, we visited Mt. Rushmore (of course) and hit three caves. We were there for only 2 days, so yes, I'm quite impressed with myself for pulling that off. We saw Wind Cave first. It's called Wind Cave because it either blows air out or sucks it in, depending on the barometric pressure. To get in, you have to pass through revolving doors. It kind of takes the romance out of the experience, but there are no natural entrances to the cave other than that blowhole, and I'm pretty sure none of us would fit through it. There was an anti-gun sign on the glass pane going in. I didn't read it, but I'm guessing the point it's trying to make is that caves and bullets don't mix well. Wind Cave is known for its box work details, which you can see in the above photos. I would love to do this for our ceilings - it's a great effect. My favorite part was when the tour guide turned out the lights. Total darkness forever wouldn't be fun, or if you were stuck in an oubliette, but it was very cool to experience for a few minutes.

Note the anti-firearms sign.

Do you see the demon? We did.

Wind Cave is known for its box work details, which you can see to the left and below. I would love to do this for our ceilings - it's a great effect. My favorite part was when the tour guide turned out the lights. Total darkness forever wouldn't be fun, or if you were stuck in an oubliette, but it was very cool to experience for a few minutes.

Wind Cave and more box work.

The second cave we saw was Sitting Bull Crystal Caverns. It's hard to take good pics inside a cave, but here are a few samples of what we saw. It's a small cave, but a beautiful one, and I can imagine what it must have been like when those who discovered the cave first saw the crystals. They must have thought they'd died and gone to heaven. Our guide was fun and funny and we thoroughly enjoyed the tour, though you have to go down a lot of stairs, then get back up them - not for the faint of heart, or the weak of heart, either. Once you leave, there's a small cave right next to crystal cave that you can explore on your own. They even provide the flashlights!

Looks like teeth, eh?

I'm rich, I'm rich!

Pretty pattern...or intestines?

Entry to self-exploring cave.

Rorschach Gem Test: What do you see?

Original entrance to Rushmore - note the ladder.

The last cave we visited was Rushmore Cave. We decided to do the whole package, including the zipline and the 7-D game. The cave was pretty neat and we enjoyed strolling through it. I particularly liked seeing some stalactites and stalagmites - they seemed to be pretty rare in the South Dakota caves. There's a reason for that, but I'm not going to tell you because why spoil all the mystery? After the cave tour we rode the zipline, which was awesome, though my husband felt like he was going to fall off - I recommend holding onto the back of the seat with one hand. My husband and youngest son now want to build a zipline (he and son #2 have already built a trebuchet). Go figure! The 7-D game, which I thought the kids would like but I'd find a tad dull, was awesome! I didn't really care so much about shooting zombies (besides, I stunk at it), but I loved the ride. I wish it would have lasted longer...or been inside the cave.

Entry into a Goblin's cave?

I love the mythical look of this part.

Very cool, but rather suggestive.

More teeth - likely dragon.

Close up of teeth - need brushing.

The exit - reminds me of how Lavida returned to Anaedor in Book Two.

I'm thinking of heading to Pennsylvania next. There are a fair number of caves there that are calling to me. I'd also like to explore a sea cave some time. If you ever visit a cave you like, drop me a line.

Until next time, fellow cavers!

 

Come Explore Anaedor!

The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Return to Anaedor (Book Two)

The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies (Book One) 

The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Return to Anaedor (Book Two)

The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Lost Ones (Book Three)

The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Uprising (Book Four)

One Flew West

If you haven't heard of the movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, then you haven't been out much. If you haven't watched the movie, you really should. It's macabre and disturbing, and at the very least, should make you feel grateful for the life you lead (i.e., if you aren't living it like these poor guys).

It's hard to believe the title of the book and subsequent movie came from a nice, seemingly sweet, nursery rhyme:

Vintery Mintery Cutery Corn* 

Vintery, mintery, cutery, corn,
Apple seed and apple thorn,
Wire, briar, limber lock
Three geese in a flock
One flew East
One flew West
And one flew over the cuckoo's nest.

*keep in mind there are several variations to this rhyme 

There are all sorts of interpretations out there about why the author chose this title, most of them having to do with the obvious polarity presented in the rhyme and the conflict between Jack Nicholson's character, Randle, and the indomitable Nurse Ratched (whom I've based a character on in my latest book - how could I not?). I don't think you can go wrong with this interpretation, but I thought I'd try to add to it with my own observations.

First, I looked up vintery, mintery, and cutery on the internet. No luck. I then had to go old school and crack open my huge dictionary. Guess what? I didn't find them in there, either. Can you say, conspiracy theory? At this point, I'll assume they're made-up words (if anyone finds anything to the contrary, let me know!). Why put in made-up words? Perhaps because the author of the rhyme was a little out there and loving it? Or maybe it's because they're fun words to say. I have no idea what was going on in the original author's head, but they are fun words to say. Whatever the reason, their mysterious nature adds to the allure behind the poem and speaks to a mind that is different and unique, as are the minds of most mentally ill individuals.

An apple seed represents the beginning of life. An apple thorn, if it exists (in looking it up I found thorn apple, which is also known as loco weed, and is, among other things, a powerful hallucinogen), sounds a little more deadly. These two opposites lend credence to the polarity theory, but also, in my mind, say a little more. A person can start out innocent and full of life, like an apple seed, but through environment, can turn into something less wholesome, broken, perhaps. Certainly this idea could be applied to the character of Nurse Ratched, who was really kind of wretched.

Next comes the limber lock - what is it? I don't really know. This is the closest I came to finding out what one was...just a link and a picture (see left). I did find this: Another meaning for limber is a horse-drawn cart used to pull a field gun or caisson (a chest or wagon that stores ammo). I imagine the lock was to keep things in place or to keep the chest locked up. I'm not sure what the wire and the briar have to do with anything, though both are sharp and poky. Interpretation? Well, humans have been known to lock up their sharp and poky emotions, thus leading to mental illness. Ammo can represent those emotions - explosive when sparked. I might be stretching things here, but conjecture is the beginning of finding out the truth, right?

Now we come to the geese. How often have you seen three geese in a flock? I don't think I've ever seen that few. So what could the three mean? Freud postulated that our personalities are made up of three parts: the id, the ego, and the superego. Connect this idea to the flying part of the rhyme and you've got a personality that is split in three - one going one direction (the id, which is our selfish, impulsive side), another going the opposite way (the superego, our conscience), which leaves the ego (the part that acts as referee between the id and the superego) flying over a cuckoo's nest. We all know that cuckoo is another way of saying crazy. So what we have here is a person whose ability to keep himself stable and sane has broken down.

I don't know about you, but I love digging into the meaning behind things. I could be way off base with my analysis, but who cares? I might also be spot on.

Now I'm off, flying to parts unknown, and perhaps stopping at a cuckoo's nest along the way.

Here's my own little cuckoo's nest...Nepenthe Manor.

  
   

I Can't Help It If I'm Weird

Wednesday Rules

I grew up reading The Addams Family and The Shining, watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest when I was probably way too young, learned how to throw a tomahawk and knife from my mom, and concocted strange herbal remedies that often included a bit of my own blood (I think I still have a vial of the vile stuff somewhere).

A yard sale score

So when I thought of setting my latest series in an insane asylum, my self wasn't the least bit surprised. What could be spookier or more macabre than an insane asylum? ...Or at least what I think of when I imagine an insane asylum. Of course, I had to make my insane asylum at Nepenthe Manor more palatable than a real one. I don't particularly like reality. I mean, I truly believe I'll be able to buy a castle someday. But anyway, if you've ever been inside a mental health facility, you understand what I'm talking about. And I think anyone who has had to live in one would much prefer my asylum.

A couple things I've collected

Just some light reading material...

So far, of all the characters I've created (or who have knocked on my skull's door), Pandora Belfry is definitely my favorite. I'm starting to think she's my alter ego (the person I would be if I weren't so restricted by our boring society). She does and says things I never would even dare. She's the much more intriguing me I'd like to be.

And if I were to become more like her? I think the world should be afraid, very afraid.

One of my lethal plants

Let me know what you think of the world I created. And if I should become more like Pandora. And if you'd like to join me in creating mayhem. And if you're weird, too.

I like weird.

Mayhem at Nepenthe Manor: A Pandora Belfry Adventure

Don't Forget Us

I just love this picture!

I've recently launched a new book series: The Pandora Belfry Adventures, which combines my love of writing with my morbid sensibilities with my wish to help people. I'm excited because these aren't just books, they're atypical commentaries on how our society treats the mentally ill. I wanted to take my background in counseling psychology and apply it to the world of Nepenthe Manor in a way that would make people want to read about mental illness - I hope I succeeded in doing that.

The first book is called Mayhem at Nepenthe Manor. It's pronounced like this...Nuh-pen-thee. Just click on the blue word because it does a better job of showing you how to say it than I just did. Nepenthe is the last name of the family that built Nepenthe Manor back in the 1880s.

So you might be wondering...where did I get the name Nepenthe? Actually, I don't remember where I came across the word, which is ironic being that nepenthe means "something that makes you forget."

In Homer's Odyssey, it was actually a drug. This book is not about drugs. I picked the name to represent what Nepenthe Manor becomes - an insane asylum. And what's an insane asylum but a place full of people society wants to forget and who wouldn't mind forgetting a few things themselves?

I plan to keep blogging about mental health, psychology, daily struggles, etc. so stay tuned for more interesting tidbits, helpful insights, and peculiar ramblings.

In case you're interested, here's a synopsis of the Mayhem at Nepenthe Manor:

Precocious and morbidly obsessed with death, Pandora Belfry has spent her entire life at Nepenthe Manor, a dark, Gothic mansion also known as the local loony bin. Recently turned fourteen and growing exasperated with her stifling life, Pandora wants two things more than anything else in the world—to make her escape from the asylum, and to get her mom to finally act like a real mom. Until these wishes are granted, she acts as self-imposed ringleader to a wayward posse of inmates.

Known amongst themselves as the Secret Six, Pandora and her friends spend their time at Nepenthe Manor stirring up trouble—holding weekly Midnight Meetings to concoct schemes, sneaking into places like the Nepenthe family cemetery and the forbidden attic, and generally doing everything they can to avoid the curse of living a mundane life. But when a mysterious new inmate arrives at the manor, things change for Pandora, and not for the better. In retaliation for a trick she plays on him, the charming and handsome Xavier connives to take over the posse, threatens to divulge one of Pandora's biggest secrets, and refuses to tell her what he did to get himself locked up. This boy is obviously hiding something, and it’s up to Pandora to use whatever nefarious means necessary to find out what it is, before he destroys the only world she’s ever known.

A Stretch in Time Saves Nine Lives

I told it was small...

I recently entered a writing contest for a new website, Undertendollars, and made it to the top three finalists (one of the judges was Amber Dusick of Crappy Pictures fame)! I didn't win the contest, so I guess that gives me the right to publish my little piece here... And since I'm desperate for blog posts, even though it's not the grand prize winner, it will have to do.

I'm including a picture of my shower, which I didn't have in the original, and which probably would have catapulted me to winnerdom. Sigh... Success is all about choices and once again I made the wrong one. Actually, I was just too lazy to stand up and go take the dumb picture.

~~~~~~~~~

Dear Under Ten Dollars,

It’s March 1st and I just found about your contest and its deadline, March 4th. Crap. I’m supposed to write about how I save time, money, and/or reduce stress in my life. Well, that’s just great cause now I’m getting stressed AND wasting time as I quietly freak out about the approaching deadline. I think I might be missing the big picture here.

Time to inhale pink, exhale blue.

Okay, I’m back. While meditating, I remembered one thing that I do that saves time. It’s a little weird, though, and I’m not really sure I should share it with the world, even if it means I might win a contest…

All right. I’m going to do it. Time is precious, the kids have been home all week on break (one of them is currently playing organ music on our electric piano – and not good organ music), and I’m feeling the winter doldrums. I need to get crazy. Are you ready? Wait for it…

I exercise in the shower. Yes, it’s true. Not only do I maximize that hair conditioning time (two whole minutes), I’m showering off the sweat. (Truth be told, I don’t sweat all that much. It’s really just stretches…but go with me on this).

A long time ago, back in graduate school, I injured myself studying. That’s right. Studying. I think I’m the only person in the world who has done this and I should probably receive some sort of accolade or letter from the president.

Did I get injured from lifting all those heavy books, you ask? Not quite. Was it from racing to the library to snag the best carrel? Not even close. Oh, I know! You got a paper cut! I wish it were that simple.

The pain radiating throughout my chest – which, as I staggered to the student health center, I sincerely believed was a heart attack – was from leaning over so intensely, and for such long periods of time, that I hurt myself.

Pathetic, you say? Righto.

The doctor gave me a few stretches to help avoid the agonizing pain and I did them religiously. In a few weeks, the pain went away and I was able, once again, to study like nobody's business without wanting to cry at the end of the day!

These days, I no longer study, but I do write every day. So to keep the pain from returning and to maximize every spare minute of my day, I do my stretches in the shower. I do shower every day, which is not the best for the environment, I know, but it keeps me from forgetting to stretch, releases me from my typical morning zombie-like stupor, and helps my fine, oily hair retain some measure of perkiness. To counteract my wasteful ways, I use natural products, recycle, compost, and hand sew all my boys’ clothes (okay, I don’t actually do that last one because I sew like I imagine a monkey would). So please, fellow Greenies, don’t lynch me.

I’ve even added some stretches to my routine over the years – I stretch while the water is heating up and while rinsing out my hair. Crazy genius, I know, but that’s how I roll.

It’s a win-win situation. I save time, I stay limber, and I stay clean.

So who wants to join me?! We’ll start a shower stretching revolution! We’ll conquer sore muscles! We'll— Um, you know you have to do this in your own shower, right? My shower is like, 3 x 3. It’s tiny and my elbows swing and…

Oh, what the heck, come on in! It’ll save on water!

Sincerely yours,

Kristina Schram, Ph.D. (in Shower Stretching)

P.S.  Here are my stretches:

1. While water is heating up, lift arm over head, grab elbow, and gently pull down for 10 seconds. Do for other arm. Then stretch arms backward, keeping them straight, clasp hands and gently pull upward for 10 seconds. After that, I do the following 20 times (stomach pulled in): lift shoulders, pull back elbows (so your chest thrusts outward), then drop your shoulders. 

2. Once in the shower, while shampooing my hair, I hold in my stomach muscles. As I rinse out, I stand flat-footed, then lift up onto toes...twenty times. Again, hold in your stomach muscles. I'm not going to repeat this again because it gets annoying...but do this as much as possible while stretching. It's an added core builder.

3. Once the conditioner is in, I do shoulder rolls, forward and backward (almost like you're rowing, but quickly), twenty times in each direction. I also do ankle rotations (make circles), 10 to the right, ten to the left, for each foot. While rinsing out the conditioner, I bend my arms, turn palms upward (as though in supplication to the almighty shower god), pull back, hold for 10 seconds. Do ten times.

4. Don't forget to towel off...you could even do leg stretches while drying!

Easy, peasy, one, two, threesy, now you're fresh and flexible!