TRAVEL YOUR DREAMS

Happy Valentine's Day Check out my guest blog post for PetRadioShow.com Pet Radio Show - Teaching your child to love and respect pets

Letters to the Future/Paris Climate Project "The Paris Climate Project asked writers, scientists, artists and others to predict the outcome of the Paris talks (the success or failure and what came subsequently) as if writing to their children’s children, six generations hence. In the letters, they told future members of their own family or tribe, living at the turn of the century, what it was like to be alive during and after the historically crucial events of the upcoming U.N. climate talks." "All letters were published online and some letters were published in newspapers and other media across the country in December." Yes, I wrote a letter . In My Time by Traci Elizabeth

A true nocturnal tale of spirits of the past in an  epic dream experience with the present.  Guest blog post  Family Ghosts  at www.whatidreamof.com Insomnia. I've had it ever since I was a little girl, and as long as I can remember. On rare nights that I fall solidly asleep, snuggled under covers and under the velvet midnight sky, I dream deeply. Drifting into a misty world where images spin in my mind traveling thru time, the scenes are often like something out of a sci-fi movie. One of the most epic, recent recurring dreams is set in black and white, like an old 1920's silent film. I don't see myself in the dream, but I feel like I'm there, experiencing it all and viewing it all through my eyes. I am in a rural area of dusty farmland as far as I can see. There are railroad tracks in the distance. I realize I am standing there alone, looking around, feeling lost. Not knowing which way to go. Walk on the road? Or walk on the train tracks? How did I get here

Up in the Black Hills of Arizona, the Jerome Grand Hotel stands on Cleopatra Hill, hosting souls who have checked-in for Eternity. Their stories have been written in time. Originally United Verde Hospital, built 1927, it was then described as the most modern Hospital in the West. An engineering miracle - fire proof, earthquake proof, and able to withstand shock waves of dynamite from mines, it has survived two centuries. Planned to be a place of healing and rest for families and workers of the mining camp below, over time it became a place of haunting. Apparently, it wasn't ghost proof. Camp was established in 1883, the Town officially incorporated March 8, 1889. Named after Eugene Murray Jerome, of New York, the investor financed mining plans here and got the town rocking and rolling. United Verde Mine was born, began operations, and produced over 1 billion in ore, over 70 years. Anchored 5000 feet above sea level, the Hospital above town had windows in every direction, o

A true travel food story from 1982 Food is serious stuff in my family. Dad is not feeling well. I keep hearing him get up in the middle of the night, going to the bathroom.  After my bedtime snack and during our nighttime talk, he tells me he needs to have a minor surgery. And, asks if I will drive him to the Hospital. Of course I will. Then I sit there stunned as scary questions float in my teenage mind. What is minor surgery? What is going on and is he going to be ok? Why? When? OMG As if he can see the swirl of storms in my mind, he calmly explains what the problem is. He can't stop going the bathroom - its a prostate thing that needs to be removed. I just thought he was drinking too much water at night. Dad said he'd pack his overnight bag in advance so we could be ready to leave Saturday afternoon. Friday night I could hardly sleep. I tossed and turned. I just wished I was at my fast food job at KFC and bringing him leftovers from when I closed the restauran

CALL OF THE FOREST Forests were always my favorite place. I remember my first road trip. In the back seat of my Dad's purple-blue Chevy Impala, my nose barely above the chrome framed window, I watch life getting greener. We are on the Interstate going to Indiana, which feels like a foreign country. To a place called Enchanted Forest. On a concrete road called I-94, we cruise through the Southside of Chicago, and over the Indiana state line. A metal “Welcome to Indiana” sign stands at the border, greeting us with a view of monster steel mills, smokestacks like giant cigarettes puffing dark smoke into the sky, and burning smell of melted steel and fired coal. Out the back window I see City life erased in the rear view mirror. Past houses poorly built and jammed onto small spaces of land, windows with dead end views of brick walls. Windows like glass eyes looking over concrete, rusted skeletons of buildings, and metal chain link fences, hum