Thank you for your assistance, traveler! The key is buried deep enough for now, I would say. It will be obvious if we did an insufficient job anyway. The connection between the buried key and the one I wear will be lost if that one is ever unearthed. Thanks to your help, though, I don’t foresee that being an issue.
 
Before we continue our journey, let us sit a spell and take in the crossroads and the dark of the moon. We will eventually need to determine which way to proceed, but first we must simply be still and…just be. Let’s listen and absorb the energies that are present.
 
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Liminal spaces have been an object of both fascination and unease for humans ever since we developed the desire to categorize and compartmentalize our world. Crossroads are an excellent example of this, as they are the intersection of separate and distinct paths. A decision must be made before leaving the crossroads; however, while in the center of it…prior to any decision being made…you are in an unidentifiable space. For example, you are neither inside nor outside when standing in the front doorway to your home. While contemplating a major life transition, you are neither in your old life nor have you yet embarked on your new journey. You are in the in-between.
 
Since ancient times, one of the deities ascribed to the crossroads is Hekate. This is fitting, really, because, as demonstrated last week when we dove into her connection with Kore, she has the ability to move freely between the realms. She facilitates transitions and therefore can linger at the crossroads without concern. She is certainly not the only deity associated with the crossroads. In fact, even within the Greek pantheon, liminal spaces are shared with the god Hermes. Other cultures and pantheons have their own deities guarding the crossroads as well, of course, and we have combined elements from our ancestors into the magic that is practiced today.
 
It is important to note that these guiding deities are not the only entities present at the threshold. Restless spirits congregate at the crossroads as well. Perhaps it is the combined power of the crossroads deities and the restless spirits that made this location a place of intense emotion. Certain crossroads that were known for increased activity were to be feared and/or avoided but also were sought out under particular circumstances. Such circumstances, at least according to the historical record, came about when people were pushed to their limits.
 
The crossroads have yielded evidence of our ancestors’ beliefs and allowed us to connect with them in ways that would otherwise be lost in time. We have found trinkets, bones, and wax dolls buried in these liminal spaces. We have discovered tablets that call upon Hekate and other deities, their names scratched into sheets of lead that were rolled, bound, and buried into the ground. These have become known as curse tablets and could be found in all manner of transitional spaces, from graves to doorsills.
 
In some cases, we have records as to how the rituals were carried out. In one instance in particular, after completing the ritual at the crossroads, one must turn around and flee before Hekate makes her appearance. She cannot be seen. Of course, there are ways to know when she is close even if you cannot see her: hearing her hounds, for example, just as we did earlier.
 
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But, as I said, there are other beings that inhabit the crossroads. It is as much a shared space as it is a transitional one, and it is best to remember that.
 
How are you feeling? What are your senses perceiving?
 
Do you feel that chill in your bones?
 
Tell me, traveler, that you felt the winds rush in from all directions to engulf us here as we sit at the center.
 
Do you hear that??
 
Someone...
 
something…is coming.
 
 
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
Further reading:
 
Betz, Hans Dieter. The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation. The University of Chicago Press, 1996.
 
Foxwood, Orion. The Candle and the Crossroads: A Book of Appalachian Conjure and Southern Root-Work.   Weiser Books, 2012.
 
Gager, John G. Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World. Oxford University Press, 1992.
 
Johnston, S. I. “Crossroads.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie Und Epigraphik, vol. 88, 1991, pp. 217–224.
 
Ogden, Daniel. Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the Greek and Roman Worlds: A Sourcebook. Oxford          University Press, 2009.
 
 

​Welcome back, traveler! We must get moving as we have a destination to reach before the dark of the moon.
 
Where are we headed?
 
Well…we are headed to a liminal space.
 
A veil between the worlds.
 
A sacred place.
 
 
You shall see…
 
 
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There are few deities in myth who have the power to freely traverse between the worlds. The gods are limited in their domains, really, but the ones who have the ability to move between the realms…theirs are the stories most interesting to tell.
 
In the pantheon of ancient Greece, Hekate is one such deity. She helped the goddess Demeter in her most desperate time of need.
 
You see, one beautiful day, many moons ago, the beautiful young Kore was joyfully playing in the meadows, gathering and admiring the wildflowers while in the company of some of her friends. She was naïve and unsuspecting that day when the ground suddenly shook beneath her feet, and she was forced to meet a fate which she did not choose.
 
The earth split and Hades appeared. He ripped Kore from her realm down into his. He retrieved her as his prize. She was to become his new wife--just as he had been promised by his brother, the great god Zeus. Hades had admired her from afar for some time and was unwilling to wait any longer. She was to be his. She was to become his queen.
 
Kore’s screams were heard by only a few before the earth closed behind her. Her actual abduction was seen by even fewer.
 
Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, and more importantly (for this story) the mother of Kore, was broken. She searched the earth for days without any luck. Her daughter was gone.
 
Hekate was one of the deities who heard the moment Kore was stolen away from this realm, and she approached Demeter, offering aide in any way she could.
 
Demeter, upon discovering that wicked pact which had been formed between Zeus and Hades, threatened to halt the progression, reproduction, and fruitfulness of all the natural world if her daughter was not returned.
 
It was Hekate who helped her discover this betrayal. She knew that the god Helios would have seen what she could not. It was Hekate who walked with Demeter through the veil to the lower world. It was Hekate who provided her torches, which can burn brightly even in the realm of the dead. It was Hekate who, once Kore was reunited with Demeter, was forever at her side, easing her annual transition from the world of the mortals to that of the darkened realm of her betrothed. Hekate has become Kore's most important companion.
 
Hades ensured that this cycle must always continue. Kore is bound to him eternally because he fed her pomegranate seeds before she was rescued by Demeter. The seeds were a safeguard for Hades, and her consumption of them means she cannot abandon him for any extended period of time. She must always return to the land of the dead. 
 
When Kore is with her mother, Demeter’s maternal joy rewards us. The world is bright and beautiful. There is abundance. We are fed. We are happy. But we must steady ourselves for the inevitable. Kore must leave; Demeter will mourn her loss. It is during this time, however, we must remind ourselves that Kore will return. Hekate will guide her back to us.
 
You see, without Hekate, we wouldn’t have the seasons. Demeter is so distraught in the absence of her daughter that she plunges the world into darkness until they are reunited again. Crops will not grow for months. Without proper planning, humans will starve and therefore the gods would, too. For we know life is a cycle. Their power feeds off of our devotion, doesn’t it? Without Hekate helping Demeter find her way to Kore, we would be in an eternal winter. Without Hekate helping Kore traverse the realms, we would all suffer. The cycle would be broken.
 
That is according to the stories handed down from ancient Greece, at least…
 
 
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As it is said in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter: “Gods are hard for mortals to see.”
 
So, we must go by the sounds we recognize and the landmarks we know….
 
Do you hear it--the hounds baying? We are close!
 
Ah, yes, there we are. We have arrived at the crossroads. Now, if you excuse me, I have to attend to an important matter. If you wish, you can follow me. In fact….here! Carry this torch for me. I need a free hand for digging, anyway.
 
Now, as you can see, I need a hand to dig with this here spoon and one to hold these keys. Once…I…get…deep enough…
 
Yes! That should do! Here…hold this spoon while I bury a key. Keep the torch high, though! I still need to be able to see that it is buried tightly. We can’t have it coming unburied, you know!
 
Perfect! Now…the other key will remain with me. Keys keep us connected. They are important. So are the crossroads….
 
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
Further Reading:
 
Homeric Hymn to Demeter
 
https://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/Persephone.html
 
https://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/Hekate.html
 
http://hoodoohillrootworksupply.blogspot.com/2013/04/crossroads-keys.html
 
 
 

​Welcome back to the Caravan! Last week we discussed the importance of noticing the signs that nature leaves behind…sometimes there are hidden meanings, after all. I entreated you to look up and notice some of the stories the sky may have to tell. Did you listen? Did you note the rising of the full moon last week? That was the Flower Moon (northern hemisphere) or the Hunter’s Moon (southern hemisphere). Each month’s full moon carries a specific name (or names, depending on where you live), and our ancestors relied on these lunar signs to know when to plant, when to harvest, and when to hunt. Perhaps we can still take some knowledge from our predecessors…
 
For example, Appalachian lore suggests you should plant according to the phases of the moon. That is, above ground crops should be planted under the new of the moon. Below ground should not be planted until closer to the full moon. If planting isn’t of concern to you, perhaps you would be interested to know that Appalachian wisdom dictates wooden shingles should be put on a house during the week around new moon (the ‘dark of the moon’) or they will turn up and be ruined. Likewise, one should cut tobacco near the new moon if you want it to cure well.
 
According to a tale recounted by Michael Rivers, being aware of the types of full moon can save not only your life but also the life of your hunting companions. The Hunter’s Moon, which is in October in the northern hemisphere, is not always as enticing as it may seem. During the light of this moon, a bear may appear that is so alluring that you will follow it for miles and miles, unwittingly risking your life in the process. It is important, therefore, to not only know the world around you; but also, it is respectful to know the lore native to the area you currently inhabit.
 
We can look to our ancestors for interpretations of other astronomical phenomena as well. Appalachian lore dictates that the appearance of comets and shooting stars can be prelude to disaster. In similar fashion, history tends to paint the appearance of such wonders as portents of war or doom. My heart, however, has always been attached to the appearance of a comet as a sign that deification has occurred. You see, Julius Caesar was assassinated at Pompey’s Theater (the Senate house was under construction at that time) on the Ides of March in 44 BCE. Aside from his murderers, much of Rome was plunged into great mourning after his passing. A few months later during Caesar’s funeral games, an astronomical wonder shown in the sky that would be unrivaled for millennia. Caesar’s comet, Sidus Iulium, was so bright that it was visible even in the middle of the day, and this brilliant magnificence lasted an entire week. This was a sure sign to the Roman people that Caesar had ascended to the heavens as a god. This event was later used by the first Roman emperor, Augustus, as he won over the populace of Rome by emphasizing his familial connection with a deity. We have evidence of Caesar’s comet on Roman coinage minted under Augustus’ reign, proving that he utilized such an extraordinary event for his own gains.
 
All of this Roman lore is being mentioned to bring you, dear reader, back to current day events. Right now, if you live in the southern hemisphere, you should be able to step outside during the evening this coming week, look up, and spot the SWAN comet before it breaks into several pieces. If you aren’t able to see this before it fades out of view, or you are on the opposite side of the planet for this spectacle, no worries. In July, the northern hemisphere should see the appearance of Comet С/2020 F3 (NEOWISE). Now we can be left to wonder, based on ancient Roman beliefs, who might be ascending to deification?
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
Further Reading:
 
Gainer, Patrick. Witches, Ghosts, and Signs: Folklore of the Southern Appalachians.
 
Montell, William Lynwood. Ghosts Along the Cumberland: Deathlore in the Kentucky Foothills.
 
Moser, Heather. From Tyranny to Clemency: How Julius Caesar's Memory has Fluctuated over Time as a Reflection of Imperial Sentiment.
 
https://www.appalachianhistory.net/2012/11/beware-the-hunters-moon.html
 
https://starwalk.space/en/news/may-2020-comet-swan-c2020-f8

http://aerith.net/comet/weekly/current.html

Have you ever felt like the outside world is trying to tell you something? Nature constantly communicates with us. Don’t feel odd if you haven’t noticed. A lot of us have forgotten the language. We have forgotten how to see the signs. Sometimes we need to be reminded.
 
As we wind down these old dirt roads here in the caravan, I want you to notice the trees in full bloom. Do you see them? The buds are giving way to new leaves that will unfurl and grow with each passing day. Some of the branches are already overtaken by beautiful blossoms. The dogwood, in particular, shines radiantly amongst the other species in the forest. The bright distinct petals make this type of tree easy to spot from a distance. The color of the petals is important to note, particularly if it is a purple-blossomed dogwood. When you see such a sight, you can be sure that the nearest graveyard is full, even if it doesn’t appear to be…
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Nearly a century ago, the Tennessee River Valley underwent a massive change that ultimately brought electricity to areas that had, until that point, been unable to access such a luxury. During this time, the United States was trying to claw its way out of the Great Depression, farmers were losing the ability to produce crops as desired, and many people were falling ill with malaria. Change was both imminent and needed. Dams and reservoirs were created throughout the region over a span of 11 years in an attempt to address all of these issues.
 
Life was improved overall, but it wasn’t without sacrifice. Because of the redirection of bodies of water in the Tennessee River Valley, some towns were flooded. Residents were forced to find new homes, but their ancestors could not relocate quite so easily. In preparation for the flooding, bodies had to be dug up and reinterred in new places of rest.
 
During the relocation phase, a crew of workers came to begin clearing out one of these cemeteries that would soon be submerged. Upon their arrival, the workers noticed a woman standing near the entrance. She was weeping while staring at an empty section beyond the headstones. She was unwilling to communicate with anyone, so the men continued with their work. A short time later, she disappeared only to return with a bouquet of wildflowers. She held the flowers as she wept, staring at the same empty place, still without speaking, and made no attempt to move beyond the entrance. No one recognized the distraught woman, so they felt it best to just let her be. Eventually she vanished.
 
The woman never appeared at the cemetery again, but on two separate mornings when the crew arrived to resume their work, items were left in that empty corner of the cemetery. One morning, they found a vase of fresh flowers. Another, their tools were placed where the vase had been. This was especially unnerving as the tools had been locked away in a toolbox at the end of the previous workday. After several days, the crew unearthed and relocated the final body, and they returned home with a bit of relief that they had finished their task and would be heading to a different location in the morning.
 
That night, however, the foreman awoke to see the weeping woman standing in his bedroom. She held wildflowers in her hand, and she spoke for the first time. She begged the foreman, “Please don’t leave my baby there!” before vanishing. It was then that he understood.
 
The next morning, the foreman, against the wishes of his crew, insisted they return one final time before moving to their new location. He led them to the empty corner of the cemetery and told them to dig. Sure enough, after some time, they unearthed the skeleton of a baby who had been buried a few feet deep in an unmarked grave. The baby was placed in a coffin and sent to another cemetery so that it would not be lost forever under the waters of the soon-to-be-flooded valley.
 
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​
So, remember, the next time that you see that purple dogwood, Mother Nature just might be trying to let any passersby know that the closest burial grounds are full, even if a lack of headstones might suggest otherwise.
 
Sometimes it pays to slow down and listen to the world around you. Reconnect with our shared language. You never know what you may learn.  Take a moment. Breathe in the fresh air. Memorize the sounds of the leaves blowing in the wind and the birds chirping amongst themselves. Observe the world around you, and always look up…sometimes the sky has its own story to tell…
 

Until next time,
Heather
 
 
 


Further reading:
 
Jones, James Gay. Haunted Valley and More Folk Tales of Appalachia. McClain Print. Co., 1997.

Montell, William Lynwood. Ghosts along the Cumberland: Deathlore in the Kentucky Foothills. University of Tennessee Press, 2000.

https://www.cdc.gov/malaria/about/history/index.html
 
https://www.history.com/topics/great-depression/history-of-the-tva
 
 
 

Do you remember last week when I asked you how you would feel to see that your backseat passenger has suddenly vanished? Would you like to find out? Close your eyes and let us step into this story together:
 
It has been a long week, and we want to unwind. We have decided that we are going to go on a drive on these old, winding dirt roads in the foothills of the Appalachians. It is a beautiful summer evening, and we are heading out with the intention of turning on any road that seems unfamiliar. We want to get lost. We want an adventure.
 
Within a couple of hours, darkness has fallen, and the weather, which was forecasted to be clear, has turned sinister. The sky opens up and gives forceful birth to rain drops so numerous and heavy that it isn’t long before the road is little more than a muddy path. The windshield wipers can hardly keep up with the downpour. We decide that it is best if we head home. This kind of rain doesn’t let up quickly, and flash floods are a concern around here. As we round a bend in the road, the headlights of our car fall upon a woman standing on the brim. She is drenched. She looks cold and lost and concerned. Without thought, we stop the car. Looking a bit relieved, she approaches the passenger window. She explains that the bridge ahead has just washed away--her fiancé and their vehicle with it. She refuses to let us call the police. She just needs a ride home.
 
We let her in the backseat. She tells us her address. She doesn’t live that far away, actually, but we have to take a longer route now that we know the bridge is out. You notice that she is cold, so you take off your jacket as I turn on the heat and the fan to the highest setting. She is fairly quiet—and why wouldn’t she be? She just survived a terrible accident, after all! Anyone would be in shock.
 
Right before we get to her drive, we hear a faint “Thank you.”
 
By the time we stop the car, she is gone. The backseat is empty but still wet. We never heard the door. The house is dark. Where did she go?
 
We get out of the car. The rain has not slowed, and we are soaked before we get to the front stoop. You notice that you are worse off than I as you recall that your jacket is with our mystery woman. The house looks old and abandoned, but we knock anyway. A light turns on upstairs and soon an older woman, head full of stark white hair, opens the door, just a crack. She peers at our faces and tells us to meet her at the back door. Confused but intrigued, we abide and head around the side yard to the back of the house. By the time we get there, we see her walking outside into the yard. We follow her until she reaches a solitary headstone at the edge of the property. It is here that we see your jacket for the first time since you handed it to the mystery woman. It is folded neatly at the base of the headstone.
 
“Here’s your jacket. Thank you for bringing my daughter home.” she says, clearly satisfied with ending our interaction. In fact, she seems surprisingly unfazed with this entire series of events, as she turns to walk back toward the house.
 
Perplexed, we stop her, stuttering over our words but nonetheless managing to convey that we wish for an explanation of what has happened. She calmly explains that her daughter died decades earlier while on her way home with her fiancé. A flash flood washed their car away while it was crossing the bridge. They were almost home.
 
“She has never forgotten to let me know she still wants to come home. She misses me dearly, just as I will always miss her. Today is the day I lost her all those years ago. This is her way of making sure I don’t forget the depths of a love between a mother and a daughter,” she says with a serene smile.
 

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There are multiple versions of the vanishing hitchhiker tale recounted throughout time, and each one of them varies slightly. The story above is a combination of the most common elements from various retellings, but it conveys the same chilling theme: sometimes things (and people) aren’t exactly as they seem.
 
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
 

Further reading:
Beardsley, Richard K, and Hankey Rosalie. “A History of the Vanishing Hitchhiker.” California Folklore Quarterly, vol. 2, no. 1, Jan. 1943, pp. 13–25.
 
Beardsley, Richard K, and Rosalie Hankey. “The Vanishing Hitchiker.” California Folklore Quarterly, vol. 1, no. 4, Oct. 1942, pp. 303–335.
 
Jones, James Gay. “Case of the Damp Damsel.” Appalachian Ghost Stories and Other Tales, McClain Printing Company, 2019, pp. 65–68.
 
Musick, Ruth Ann. “The Roadside Stanger.” Coffin Hollow and Other Ghost Tales, The University Press of Kentucky, 1977, pp. 157–158.
 

Mirrors allow us to glimpse a living picture of how we look to the eyes of others. We trust them to accurately reflect ourselves and our surroundings. In some cases, we utilize mirrors as a safety measure, such as rearview and side mirrors on vehicles. Humans have used mirrors for other purposes throughout time, however. Sometimes they reveal reflections that betray what our eyes would normally behold and sometimes they open doorways we would prefer to leave closed. 

​Mirrors have been used for divining and conjuring; from scrying for messages to summoning blood-covered entities. Such stories take careful measure, of course. All of that will be revealed in time. For now, though, please sit and enjoy some death-centered mirror lore from the hills of Appalachia:

When someone is near death, there are a few ways to prepare the home to help facilitate their passage to the other side. For example, it is customary to open the windows so that the spirit has the ability to leave the house. Be mindful, too, while saying final goodbyes, to avoid being at the foot of the bed so the spirit has a clear exit from the body. Likewise, mirrors should be covered. This act serves a couple of purposes. First, it prevents the newly departed soul from getting trapped in the mirror.  Catching a glimpse of themselves in the mirror's reflective surface could prevent them from passing over appropriately. While uncovered, the mirror reveals the state of the dead and those mourning in the room, which could certainly also cause unnecessary alarm to the newly departed!  Second, there was a belief that if the mirror remains uncovered, the spirit would be made aware that it has departed. After this occurs, the first living person to see their own reflection will soon follow in death. It is best, therefore, to prevent anyone from peering into the mirror: dead or alive.

The fear of following the departed before one's time was strong enough to suggest that mirrors should remain covered until after the first meal that follows the funeral. This meal should be eaten at a table that has a place prepared for the deceased so that they can have proper sustenance for their journey to the other side. Failure to do so could endanger their ability to pass through the veil. However, with successful completion of these steps, the mirrors can comfortably be uncovered with the knowledge that your loved one has moved on without issue.

There are other beliefs found in Appalachian mirror lore, of course. For example, one should not allow a baby to look into a mirror until it is six months old or misfortune will follow. Likewise, if you ever look into the mirror and cannot see your own reflection, this is an omen that you are not long for this world. 

Mirrors play a role in ghost lore as well, but that is a story for another day. In the meantime, how do you suppose you would behave if you were to look in your rearview mirror only to see that your backseat passenger has suddenly vanished?

Until next time!
Heather



Further reading: 
Appalachian Folklore: Omens, Signs, and Superstitions by Nancy Richmond and Murray Walkup
​Appalachian Magazine's Mountain Superstitions, Ghost Stories & Haint Tales

We are and have the ability to create energy, especially when our emotions are high. They say that any object can be haunted, for anyone can emotionally attach to anything, so imagine standing in a room filled with boots once warn and helmets that were suppose to protect the wearer only to fail and still lay on the head of a dying soldier.  These objects filled with the energy of the time and emotions from war can fill the observer with many feelings. 

It was early October of this year, 2019., that I had the privilege of visiting The MacArthur Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas.  It was night fall when we arrived, the building greeting us, standing tall with it's double balconies, red brick glowing in the night., beautiful magnolia trees standing around it, it was a sight to be seen. 

Stepping inside the building you could feel whispers of the past. Each room filled with ghosts of their own. I couldn't help myself but to wonder around, going where I was called. In the first room to my right when entering the first floor, there stood a Jeep.  It was as if you could still feel someone sitting inside, ready to go where they were ordered.  Old photographs and Uniforms perfectly preserved looked as if someone still stood within them. I remember standing in front of one particular uniform, that as I stood before it, I was over come with emotion and began to cry. It was an overwhelming feeling, that makes me want to further my research on the wearer. 

I was gifted access to the tower and the basement during my time at the paranormal expo they were holding that weekend. It was an honor and a privilege that I will never forget.  In the tower it was said there was an angry ghost, however I did not feel anything on that night that we went up there. It felt quiet, there was a small door however in this singular room that I did feel afraid of, so I never touched it, paid my respects and left. 

The basement was a different story however. When descending the stairs, I first went left being called deeper and deeper into a very dark corner. In my mind I could see a black cloud radiating, moving with almost tentical like shoots coming off of it. I developed a very bad headache and a feeling of being drunk that increased the longer I stayed in the presence of whatever was over in this corner, I ended up needing to leave and check out a different location. 

The basement was beautiful though, the stillness and the stonework, architecture that takes you to a whole different time. I felt so lucky to be able to experience this during my time there. It was on the other side of the basement however, where a room stands behind lock and key, where seance's have been performed. 

As I stood within this room, I looked upon the hats, the helmets, the boots that were once worn long ago. Guns and swords also stood, each having a story of their own. It was powerful. I took a series of photos however,  as I stood in one particular spot, looking through the lens, I did see what looked like orbs floating by, never did I see them in any other spot but this, in the center of this very room. I did not capture anything by the time the photo was actually taken thought.

The last place that I toured around was the grounds outside, for out back a boy; David Owen Dodd was hung, accused of being a spy. His death, it was said was in no way quick and swift. The same headache and ill feeling I had below in the basement around this black mass had returned. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, there could be any connection. 

This experience has made me even more curious then I was before and has given me the desire in trying to communicate with those whom are no longer physically with us. 

If you have had an experience, I would love to hear your tail. Please send me an email at Thecaravanoflore@gmail.com

Its been quite some times since I have written here, due to recent activity in my home however I thought that maybe this would be a good place to share.  About a week ago I was sitting in my daughters room when their bedroom door flew open. This was not any type of wind, the cat or one of the children. The door was wedged shut just slightly due to the metal rack that holds their backpacks over their door and when it swung open no one was standing there. When I went to check on everyone, the cat and my youngest were asleep in my room and my other two children were laying down all tucked in on the couch zoned into whatever TV show they were watching. 

I was alone, but I wasn't. In that moment, sitting there briefly before checking on everyone, I felt an ominous presence. It literally felt like something was standing there, but I braved through it and tried my best to ignore it. Not wanting to think about it anymore I decided to do some chores. So I walked into the kitchen and laundry room to put stuff away. It was after I closed the laundry room door that it flew open and almost hit me. This sent me running back into the room I was originally in. 

It feels embarrassing to say, especially because I have attended and performed house cleansing myself. However, it was just one of those situations where it was so real and so unexpected and I believe that is why it got me as well as it did. I should also make mention of something that happened about a month ago. I was in my living room sitting on my couch when one of the cupboards flew open,  it startled me but it did not feel evil in any way. So I got up and shut it only to have something that was on my wall, hanging above my couch fly off the wall. There again, I was spooked and it was a little tough to put it back on the wall but the feeling was not anything close to the evil I felt last week. 

Once back in my daughters room and able to collect myself a bit more, I decided to grab my sage and do the best I could to get rid of whatever was there without alerting the kids. As this was right before bedtime as well. I should also note how important I feel it is not to lie to children, because honestly this stuff does exist and I believe it very important to teach them the tools of how to deal with these things when they arise. 

So I did what I could and during the process two things happened, one I hear a low growl and it sounded as if it was all around me. The second was when I walked by the hallway in the corner of my eye and in my minds eye I saw a tall figure in a black cloak with the head of an animal either a deer or a horse, however I want to say more deer. As I was sageing and saying my prayers I got the sense it was laughing at me. It was the worst feeling I have had in a long time when it comes to my paranormal experiences.  I'm not sure what it was that finally make it go away but everything stopped that evening and we were able to go to sleep without any problems. 

It was the next morning that the next thing happened, I had not had a fire in my fireplace for 10 days but when I was cleaning that morning I found burning embers in the ash of my fireplace. Nothing has happened sense, in fact we actually have all just been sick with colds the day after that. 

​I will make sure to update if anything more happens. 

Over the course of the past week I have been doing research and falling into hour long  conversations in regards to projects artichoke, MK-ULTRA, Philadelphia and many others. Movies such as The Banshee chapter and the new Netflix series Wormwood have been great eye openers for me, for there is a lot of information and theories that I have not yet thought about or entertained.  

I personally entered the USAF  and when it comes to brain washing, I never tied the two together until now. It sounds silly to not look at it that way but when you do, it really makes you think. I believe it took me 6 to 8 weeks just to eat normally and begin to break my habit of calling everyone Ma'am and Sir after I got home to the civilian world. 

Another interesting experience that I have had, are constant re-occurring dreams of re-enlisting, I have spoke to several veterans as well as did a google search on this and found out that I was diffidently not alone in this experience. Now was this due to it being a significant experience in ones life or a left behind mind control bug that tries to keep you loyal to the military?

It is in my personal opinion that projects such as the above mentioned are still going on to this day, they just take on different names and are done in different forms. In one experiment you may be using drugs such as LSD and Temazepram where as in another you may be using certain frequencies.  One thing is for certain however, it will never stop.

Lets take it a step further as well,  there are theories out there that the government has made it so that the public has increased interest and access to genealogical research, sending in their DNA via spit to companies such as Ancestry and 23andMe. These theories state that the government can then search through what has been sent in and they can try to look for certain individuals that carry a certain gene or sequence. 

What if however you decided against doing that, that you did not want to take the risk. Lets say though, that you had a parent in the military and lets say that your parent carried one of these DNA anomalies that the government is so keen to find.  Who's to say then that the children of said parent weren't on some type of watch list or predestined targets, to at least somehow find if they too carry the same genetic piece of information that the government so wants to find. 

We plan to do an episode on this subject, if not a two part piece. If there is anyone out there who has had personal experience or knows a good story in regards to government cover ups, mind control programs ect. Please send us an email at Thecaravanoflore@gmail.com We can either read your submission on air and keep you anon or if you rather keep your submission confidential we will honor that too. 

Upcoming episodes will be announced on our Facebook page just look us up under The Caravan Of Lore. 

​Goodnight! 

Fear is an interesting thing, it can be difficult to deal with but can serve a great purpose as well, to keep us safe.  Some fears can actually be passed down in the womb, as has been in my case. There was a story that my mother almost drown when she was a child and both my sister and I, who have never had a close encounter with drowning and with never knowing what happened to our mother until we were much older, both have a fear of water in some way. 

In celebration of all things scary this month, I will dive more into some of my own personal phobias. 

The first and one of the biggest fears I have, I am not sure there is even a name for it, is peepholes on front doors. I am always worried of seeing something resembling a slenderman or BEK when I check at night which leads me to a more twisted phobia; phobophobia the fear of fears. This travels down the path that if everything is made up of energy, the chairs we sit on, the clothes we wear, if everything is made of energy then so too can our thoughts be made of energy. If our thoughts are energy then it would be realistic to think, that the more thought, or more energy you put into something the more likely it can be created,  manifesting it into being, and if many of us think the same thing, it can surely manifest, which would make things like the creepy pasta slenderman go from just a story, to a terrifying reality. 

What if than, cryptids such as the rake, chupacabra, Sasquatch and others were manifestations of mis-identification. What if what someone saw created such a great fear they took it as fact and that fear seeped into whoever heard the story spreading so vastly that a mass fear conjured these monsters? I am in no way saying this is in fact what happened but rather playing with a new thought, I really enjoy entertaining what if's. So, what if? 

What are things YOU fear? Do you have phobias? A certain monster that you know just cant be real.....but what if it was? Leave your comments below or feel free to send in your story, you can always remain anon. 

​thecaravanoflore@gmail.com