Eve Gaal's Blog, page 18

Dealing With Premonitions

Some people might call it a strength and others a weakness but to me premonitions are an unwanted, possibly hellish burden. A warning with a shocking message attached to it. It’s a questionable and foreboding suggestion wanting my support and trust. And like omens, I feel they come from a dark and unnatural, foreboding place. Unlike death and taxes the two infamous things looming on the horizon that we can all predict—to a point. For me personally, there are just enough foreshadowing thoughts basking around in the crevices of my brain to freak me out and keep me on my mortal toes.
Pretty sight from yesterday's walkBut the sun comes up and hopefully the flowers will bloom and that’s how far we--as humans--normally reach because we don’t have any idea how—exactly--the flowers will bloom—what will be the shape, size, scent and color. Will they bring friends such as butterflies and birds? Will it be a huge mega blossom leaning to the right or will there be a galaxy of small starry blooms creating a chorus-- rather than one or two headliners stealing the show?

 I put my faith in God and have to question things that don’t sound, or look right. I’m disgusted about the fact that I have what I perceive as ‘negative’ powers because—please sing along-- “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” I’m talking about premonitions—or inclinations based on intuition that something ominous will happen-- not good, happy things. The word premonition has negative connotations and most people know I’m a glass is half full, hopeless optimist. Sometimes however-- despite all my analytical skills and faith-- there are people—accidents—doctors--things that shout me down to size, wallop me on the head and shock the dickens out of Christmas. In other words, it’s not foolproof and I get big, sad surprises too.
 Sometimes these premonitions come to me in my dreams or while driving. My first manuscript is a story woven together from several of these dreams called The Fifth Commandment. It took me years to gather my courage to publish it as a short novella and now  I’ve finally released it for editing--hoping that by putting it out there—releasing into the wild-- my mind can move back to finishing my WIP/the sequel to my romantic novel, Penniless Hearts.
 As far as premonitions, here are a few of my frightening examples:  I write a hypothetical – fiction --blog post and something happens to make it true. I’ve answered the phone knowing who is on the other end. And it can be much much worse—even deadly. Imagine driving down the road and I’m your passenger. A car speeds by and I say something like, “that guy should slow down or he might meet his maker.” Sure enough, one minute later, we see that same car and it’s totaled. I hold my breath and begin to shake.  Or the bus trip to Laughlin. I had ridden hundreds of buses but why did I say, “This one is going to break down,” five minutes before we were standing on the side of the road waiting for a replacement? My seatmate joked that the whole fiasco was my fault!
There are many ways to help clear my mind but here are my top six:  1. Meditate 2. Breathing exercises 3. Spend time in nature 4. Walk my dogs 5. Pray 6. Write or journal

What I’d like to know is why a premonition isn’t a positive thing? As in, why can’t I come up with winning Lotto numbers ahead of time or find out some good news before anyone else? Why aren’t we privy to how the flower will turn toward the sun and blossom on your birthday? Is it because good things are supposed to be surprises? And what about super bad stuff that surprises us—takes us for a loop no matter how sensitive we are to predicting the worst. If we knew all the good things that will happen to us, would we wade through all the bad? Probably not. (Although many great books of fiction start out slow—and end up having exciting plots that you couldn’t predict.)



What about you—have you had any premonitions lately?

California Dreaming and Yawning--starring Pinky and Fiona

A four-legged face of love stares at me in the middle of the night. I interpret this as, “I’m cold and uncovered, can you please pull the blanket over me?” But a few hours later, she’s uncovered again and running around the house, listening to sounds and dusting the furniture with golden fleece. Her nails click like ivory castanets on the walnut floor. She doesn’t want to wake me again but it’s pretty cold for the end of May and she licks my elbow. It’s a warm, gentle lick because she doesn’t really want to be doing naughty things like waking up her mommy, but alas, she’s shivering and there’s not much else to do. When she knows my eyes are open, she shakes her collar like a bell. Heaven forbid she wakes up daddy.
After our two-mile walk today, we figured she’d be tuckered out and sleeping like a log. Her tiny stepsister can burrow under covers, rarely needing any late night attention. Though I’m yawning and tired, I can’t be upset. I know that Pinky had some rough times before she came to live with us. She often has nightmares that sound spastic and dreams that make her tremble. Loud noises, fireworks and ambulances make her shake with fear. Plus she’s older now and maybe she simply wants large doses of extra love.
I can imagine her thinking something like this: 'Fiona is only five pounds and super cute—but what about me? When I was a puppy, everyone said I was cute too. Is there a twenty-pound limit to being a lap dog? I think I’m close--maybe a few pounds here or there. Awe, come on--you still think I'm cute--don't you? Have you seen the online video of elephants who want to be lapdogs? At least I want to be on your lap as opposed to Miss independent Fiona—I can keep you warm'—and so on. Fiona is sitting on the red pillow
Curled like a croissant shaped pooch at the end of the couch, I get up and look into dark sad eyes that seem to beg forgiveness. “Go to bed, Pinky,” I whisper in the dark. I cover her up and for a few more hours, we fall asleep---both of us forgetting any troubles from our past. And miracle of miracles, we don’t wake daddy. 

Hooked on Gourmet--My Favorite Restaurants

Those who have followed my blog for awhile or remember stuff from The Desert Rocks, may know I used to have a restaurant column. It was ages ago but the experience taught me more about food than about writing. My post this week is a culinary and somewhat nostalgic journey. After all, I can’t be going to these places on a regular basis—but my memories are vivid and it’s easy to recollect the taste of fabulous experiences served in magnificent surroundings. 
For those who travel or are planning a summer vacation, maybe this short list can help you make a decision on where to eat. These are my all time favorite restaurants in the West. And no one is paying me any money or offering me food so that I will say nice things.This is simply a look back at my most loved,  memorable spots for a romantic or gourmet meal and of course these would naturally be my heartfelt recommendations. These are funky, mostly independent places. The type I enjoy returning to over and over and with any luck, I’ll be going back to all of them again. Maybe I'll see you there!
Portland, Oregon
Veritable Quandary1220 SW 1st Ave.503-227-7342
I remember healthy gourmet dishes and a romantic atmosphere. Butternut squash pizza with squash blossoms too! —Oh yeah—it was delish! Menu: veritablequandary.com
            Bijou, cafe            132 S.W. Third Ave.             503-222-3187I remember the mouth-watering breakfast and friendly smiling wait-staff. It’s raining outside but you’ll forget all that as soon as you bite into those blueberry pancakes and the amazing French toast. Menu: places.singleplatform.com
        Las Vegas, Nevada
Gallagher’s SteakhouseAt New York-New York Hotel & Casino702-740-64503790 Las Vegas Blvd. South gallaghers@arkvegas.com
Almost an exact copy of the famous steakhouse in the Big Apple. The food was so delicious that the hubbub of the casino melted away like surf and turf in my mouth. Definitely recommend it for a birthday or anniversary dinner.
Wolfgang Puck Bar & Grill3799 Las Vegas MonorailInside the MGM Grand702-891-3000Mouthwatering salads and those famous pizzas made us return for special occasions. While this   is sort of a chain restaurant—it doesn’t taste like it and the service is impeccable.             Menu: places.singleplatform.com

      La Quinta, California
 La Quinta Baking Company  78395 California Hwy 111-in the Von’s Parking lot  760-777-1699   If you dream of hot from the oven French bread and buttery croissants, then this is your place. The French owner makes the loaves early each morning.            Menu: laquintabaking.com 

Lavender bistro78073 Calle Barcelona760-564-5353We sat outside in January under tiny lights while enjoying a gourmet dinner and listening to jazz. This place has perfect ambiance and the food was good too.www.lavenderbistro.com

Lake Elsinore/Temecula area
Vincenzo’s Olive Tree31712 Casino Dr. Lake Elsinore951-674-8941Best Sicilian inspired restaurant in California for fresh ingredients, generous portions and low prices. This is one of those neighborhood places people dream about—and I have tried many, many Italian restaurants both here and in Italy too. I’m super lucky to live only eight minutes away! Menu: locu.com 

  Wilson Creek Winery    Creekside Grille 3590 Rancho California Rd, Temecula951-699-9463How do you spell romantic, Sunday brunch out under a trellis of grapevines? C’est magnifique! Imagine bottomless glasses of Almond Champagne! Menu: places.singleplatform.com 
Orange County
Zov’s Bistro TustinMediterranean RestaurantLocated in: Enderle CenterAddress: 17440 17th St, Tustin, CA 92780714-838-8855I remember going here weekly, when it was a very small hole in the wall. Recently, I had the fortune of dining here for lunch and finding out about their huge, much deserved expansion. Everything about the food here is mouthwatering and beyond delicious. You’ll have dreams. Menu: allmenus.com 

Zinc Cafe & Market
Address: 350 Ocean Ave, Laguna Beach, CA 92651949-494-6302Bowls of cappuccino, healthy soups and OMG desserts—this used to be my secret ‘go to’ lunch place but it’s also fun to bring home or take on a picnic. I remember an amazing cambozola and pear sandwich and stellar rice pudding with raspberry puree on top for dessert. Recent experience seemed almost overthetop healthy with carrot-ginger soup, muffins and salads. Menu: places.singleplatform.com 
Riverside
Simple Simon’s Bakery & Bistro3639 Main St. Riverside951-369-6030 Great location in the Mission District, offering heaps of salads and sandwiches. You can't miss the tempting cake stands filled to the brim with enormous slices of cake, bars and cookies for dessert. 
The Cheesecake Factory Riverside County Locations: Galleria at Tyler and the River in Rancho MirageAddress: 3525 Tyler St, Riverside/Rancho Mirage951-352-4600The best part of this gigantic restaurant is the menu selection. If one person feels like eating Asian noodles and the other person feels like eating burritos, they will both be happy.Nice portions too--we rarely ever had room for cheesecake! Menu: places.singleplatform.com 

Insomnia About Alberta

I can't even imagine the nightmare happening in Canada right now. Watching the news last night made me so upset I began smelling smoke and started to cough, way down here in California. No, I wasn't actually hallucinating but I'll admit to being sensitive. One reporter called it ' literally hell on earth' and since I figured he might not know what hell is really like, his account was the only one sounding hopeful. This morning, I wrote this poem and while I also know that my loss of sleep means nothing to the poor souls who are losing everything right now, I hope they know we have them in our hearts. And for those who want to donate here's a link. All Red Cross Donations are being matched by the government of Canada. 

Insomnia in California about Alberta
The heat rose--started in my toes--wrapped around my collar--suffocating my nose. And distant tearscan’t appreciate real fearsbut my coughing wouldn’t stop. I grabbed a bucket and mopmy personal menacean emotional apprentice.I had to work it out.and now  I’m writing about...flames that look like Hell.Cinders that smell,ash from fifty feet landing on dry peat,homes and carschurches and bars.People—masses of them-- drive somewhere--anywhere but there.Away from home--a melancholy poem.Shelter they seek--the young and the weak.Their agony and lossin my head while I floss.We crawl under cover. Two guilty loverssafe behind the newstill our coffee brews....And my mind stirs as the smoke swirls--destruction spraying--
while I’m praying.








Has this happened to you too? Have factual television newscasts made you lose sleep?

Five Ridiculous but Slightly Stressful Things to Smile About

With the recent turmoil, the earthquakes and politicos going off the deep end, my heart suggested I keep my thoughts quiet until things get better. Unfortunately, things aren’t lightening up too much—it’s as if Les Miz is playing out on the six o’clock news-- every day. Meanwhile, we have blogs, stories and books to write and someday publish. For some strange reason, the world won’t stop so I can get off and be emotional. Must be why so many have signed up for a one-way ticket to Mars and I keep finding humor in the painfully mundane. Examples:1.       At the end of the day.—Almost every television personality, interviewer and interviewee uses this transitioning phrase in their dialogue. Last week we went to a real estate conference to learn about house flipping and yes, the speaker kept saying it was the end of the day and obviously, I began to yawn. (And no, we’re not interested in house flipping but I always like to learn things, such as quick ways to find my inner snore.) Meteorologists, Presidential candidates, comedians, talk show hosts, sports announcers—everyone says it! When my doctor said it, I almost flipped out. If you haven’t noticed this unusual trend, you will now. Sorry.
2.       What do you think about that auto commercial indicating in large type that those arereal people, not actors? I’m sure they realize how silly that is but it’s starting to bug me, even though I’m aware some actors are aliens.

3.       We love listening to classical radio on the weekends and every Saturday morning the announcer comes on to interview some violin player--or he or she chats about some movie music for hours. Don’t they realize we’re listening to their station for music, not Talk radio? Blah, blah, blah, we switch it off and stream YouTube. Does anyone still listen to the radio?
4.       When we’re in the car and we’re listening to a rock station and a car ad comes on about leasing a car for $199 but right when you think it’s finished, the spokesman continues on a super fast tirade of all the stuff he has to disclose in ten seconds. Of course, he’s reading so fast there’s no way anyone in the world could understand any of it but the car dealer feels he’s covered all his bases. As someone who spent hours writing automotive ad copy for newspapers, I think this might not be honest. Is it just me?

5.       So you pull into the driveway, go inside and decide to pop a frozen pie in the oven. The box actually says, “Remove plastic before baking.” Your hands become fists before you preheat the oven. You control yourself for a few minutes, jump up and down and inhale deeply before your cells divide and you know you’re about to blow a fuse.
At the end of the day, you’re tired of everyone treating you like you’re stupid and you scream at anyone who will listen about how insensitive that frozen food company must be if they have to tell other, senseless people not to cook the plastic wrap with the pie.
 But you aren’t senseless, are you? You pay taxes and count your blessings. You're not a victim! Why blame the pie? Breathe, turn on the radio. “You have nothing to fear, nothing to hide!”
(2 minute clip from Les Miserables)

Magical Yard

It doesn't look
like this anymore!Very few perfumes come close to the sweet fragrance of red roses blooming in your own backyard.You can see our gazebo through the buds It’s a heady combination of a gift from above blended with gritty soil, hard work and true love. The rain in California helped too. Hundreds of buds!
 They really exploded this year into a giant infusion of magical, sweet-smelling blooms. Oh and the hard work had nothing to do with me. I’m a writer, not a gardener. I'm grateful for true love. These roses are called the Mister Lincoln,
honoring our 16th President. Surrounded by beauty!


 I think I mentioned, last year we had some ducks that enjoyed hanging out in our yard too and they are back—well kind of—you see there’s a sort of power struggle going on between our rescued dogs and the wild ducks. Pinky weighs between 20 and 25 pounds and most of you have already heard me ramble on about my five pounds of terror- Fiona. 

Duck Dynasty?




 Anyway, these two romantic ducks look like they’re over ten pounds and for the most part everyone has been getting along just fine. (You stay on your side of the yard and we’ll respectfully stay on ours.) 

Sorry for the
fuzz--taken from a
window.
The rose bushes however, are apparently out of bounds, because yesterday when I went out to enjoy the aroma of those roses, Pinky noticed the ducks waddling around underneath the thorny bushes. She dived after the large male.  Feathers fluttered and the canard sans à l’orange,  flew up into the air and beyond the fence. Pinky looked shocked. Her eyes followed the birds into the sky and then she looked over at me. “Yeah,” I said. “Bet you’d like to do something like that-- pretty nifty trick, huh girl?” She wagged her tail and sniffed the ground before looking into the air wondering how something bigger than her frightening little sister could become airborne. Still stunned, her tongue dripped with excitement and her eyes became bottomless pools filled with animated question marks. I laughed and reached to pet the top of her head. “Haven’t you ever seen magic before?” I asked before heading for the house.I took this shot of a double rainbow
--above our yard
 --from an upstairs window, last week.“We better go inside so the ducks can come back.” A few hours later, they were back. We’ll probably have baby ducklings again this year. Guess they like the scent of roses.
Meanwhile, Fiona wrote this: Roses are red,Violets are blue,Where did the ducks go?
We haven’t a clue. 

What I Learned While Volunteering

What I Learned Volunteering in a Migrant Community Over the course of four years, I spent a few hours a week volunteering at a public school near the Salton Sea, assisting a second grade teacher’s students with reading and pronunciation. It was a lovely drive through fields of green peppers, strawberries, jalapeno bushes and long expanses of date palms. Now that we’ve moved away from the desert, I’m reminiscing about some of the things I miss. And working with adorable children with starry eyes and big dreams is on that list.
 The following is a brief list of things I learned:·         I learned that most second graders want to make friends with everyone.·         Most of them want to learn to read in English and pronunciation is important to them·         They want to do well in school and make their parents and teachers proud.·         They don’t want to migrate or move because a harvest is complete.·         They don’t want to leave the United States because this is home.·         Their mommy and daddy work very hard packing dates or picking peppers ·         Many of them like the company of several Chihuahuas.·         They get balanced meals at school but not much at home.·         Many of them have many brothers and sisters who are busy·         Noisy parents and older siblings keep them up at night·         Most of them love Dr. Seuss
·         Most are very loving, trusting children wanting affection·         They generally shop at Walmart·         Many have fathers who were deported·         Some had fathers who were in jail.·         Many of the little girls love pink hoodies and plastic bangles.·         They appreciated everything I tried to teach them but are sleepy sometimes.·         Many of them get very excited about the Scholastic Book caravan in the library.·         Many of them have to cook or babysit for other family members and siblings.·         It’s not easy to study at home, and many times no one speaks English at home.·         By being born in the U.S., these kids have lofty goals and aspirations. (I hope I encouraged them.)·         For some Native American children, English was their third language after Spanish.·         Many relatives rely on public transportation·         Most importantly, I learned most are very smart and super sweet. I miss those smiles.

Everyone’s heard that volunteering is rewarding and I have to say without any doubt that it was one of the most rewarding things I’ve done in my life. What about you, have you done some volunteer work? What about these children—what do you think about their future?

Should Harp Lessons Be on the Bucket List?

 I’ve often wondered whether our critical or even abstract thinking will have a place in Heaven. (Or your choice of afterlife) Will our brain cells be needed? How about our artistic touch? While it's understandable that "plotting" might not be necessary or could be deemed inappropriate, does that mean that horror, mystery and novelists of most genres will be stuck writing parables and songs of worship?  Here’s a poem or perhaps just a simple reflection on this topic.




Where do writers go?
What do you mean—like when they die?
I played flute in high school and even some piccolo  but I’m not a harpist.
You can sing. I've heard you.
Yes, but I don't play trumpet or lute.
Oh, but they sing and have lyrics to their songs.  Who do you think writes those songs?
Writing angels?
Of course.
So they do have a place?
Who?
Writers.

Yes, they’ll have a place  and so will you.

Do you think there's a place for creativity and talent? Is it wrong to wonder?

Do You Believe?--(Two Poems & more)

I'm putting two weeks into one for a double-scoop of Intangible ice-cream on a waffle-cone post
 to wish you all a fairly sober St. Patrick's Day
 and a chocolate bunny-filled Easter.

I wrote this poem last year for something called Poem-a-Day in April of last year and thought it might make a nice Easter related post.

On the Secret Subject of Faith
How did that happen?Can you explain it?No, No, No, for the third time.It’s a miracle.No, it’s not.
It is.I don’t believe it.
Forget it.I will not forget it.See? You do believe it.Shhh! No, I don’t.Yes, you do or you’d forget it.Well somethinghappened.That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.
Well, how did it happen?I have no idea.It’s too weird.I agree but it happened.Maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone.Why not, it’s amazing?
True that, but....

---------------Eve Gaal


"Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies." Mother Teresa
Breaking News: Today from CBS
March 15, 2016- Pope Francis announced Mother Teresa, known around the world for her work with the poorest people in India will become a saint on the fourth of September due to two proven miracles that have been attributed to the nun from Calcutta.


"Intense love does not measure, it just gives." Mother Teresa
Please Don't Give Up on God!
We have some friends who don’t believe anymore. They have told us they flat-out don’t believe in God. While we respect their beliefs, it makes us wonder if they are grateful for the food they eat or the air they breathe and if so, who would be the one they show appreciation towards for the songs coming from the trees and the flowers blooming at the gate. Hard to imagine they don’t care to thank anyone for Monarch butterflies, hummingbirds and violets and are never thankful for anything. Oh well, The Doors had the right lyrics: "People are strange...."
Contemplating my own difficulties made me write this poem: 

Unanswered Prayer

You prayed on your knees.You closed your eyes for emphasis.You tagged along with others and felt like drinking the holy water.You read His Word, in His Book.You highlighted, shared, witnessed andprayed some more.and yet....Something horrible happenedthat seemed like He wasn’t listening.But you know He heard you.He listened to you before.He answered other prayers.This, however was a big request.A doozy.               He did what He thought was necessary.              Things we can’t understand.And yet. ...Though your heart felt like it would fall out onto the dusty floor.You retained your faith.Kept up hope that someday you’d comprehend it all.You worshiped more than ever before.Even while assembling shredded pieces of your heart. 
The world is full of so many distractions that the least we can do is pause in front of the marshmallow chicks at the supermarket to contemplate the meaning of Easter. I hope your heart will feel lifted, renewed and filled with the spring promise of the Lord's resurrection. And for those who don't believe, for whatever reason, my repentant heart is convinced that God loves you too.
Do you believe?

A piece from a famous painting called The Blessed Path by Charles Dulac-See the entire picture here.

For International Women's Day

Optimism  is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence. —Helen Keller
Every year, on March 8th there is a celebration honoring women called International Women’s Day and I wanted this post to reflect the importance of something that eluded me for many, many years. I hope it inspires everyone to take a good look at his or her own uniqueness and purpose in life. I also wrote this because of a humorous article I wrote about a cheating, lying boyfriend who strung me along for many years. Unveiling my shame seems funny in hindsight but the memories are still embarrassing. Fortunately, this relationship turned into a wonderful thing because it was the catalyst to changing my life. Read about The Scoundrel this upcoming Saturday in the Los Angeles Times. (Available at newsstands everywhere.)
When I was a kid, I had trouble seeing the chalkboard. Once I received my thick, not so attractive glasses that I didn’t want to wear, my grades improved but my confidence level suffered. Life is like that. We go five steps forward only to take two and a half steps backward. Our lives get muddled when we make amazing inroads in confidence and self-esteem only to forget that there’s another multiplier called self-respect. Personal achievement, accomplishments, awards and even attractiveness will fall to the wayside leading to various problems that begin with unhappiness and depression if there’s no self-respect. How you think about yourself is the most important quality of all. By being honest with ourselves, we can accept and love who we are.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know any of that.
Though I wrote a restaurant column, earned my diploma and wrote stellar ad copy, there was still something missing; something no accolades, rewards, bonuses and even kind comments could help me overcome. I had to learn about self-respect. What did that mean? After all high school theater gave me, a false sense of confidence and many people told me they thought I was great. Great—nah—average maybe. You see, I didn’t buy into the kind and well meaning compliments and spent most of my twenties acting the part of a confident coquette. Then one day, I decided to make a change by learning and going back to school for my Master of Arts degree.
Hitting the books helped me stay away from negativity and reading inspirational articles filled me with the desire to help others. I set my standards higher and accepted my limitations. I let go of those people who manipulated me or tried to take advantage of me and slowed my life to a crawl—or at least the speed limit. I smelled the flowers and set examples. I volunteered, developing a sense of humor along the way and went outside to exercise. My inner value blossomed and attracted real love. Without being selfish, I could still love myself and in turn be much better at sharing my heart.

Additionally, I’m grateful for my friends and followers. Thank you so much for reading this and sharing my ideas with those who might need a little help "seeing" things along the way.