Uh oh: I woke up this morning to an overwhelming, deadly smell of petroleum. I'm not sure what I had been dreaming about because, unfortunately, The Girls were waking me with multiples kisses (must have been a really awful dream for all 3 to comfort me at once). Later this morning as I was filling the car's tank (makes me cringe!), my credit card wouldn't go back into the wallet slot; I found out why when I saw a ribbon, pulled it out, and attached was a St. Francis medal. St. Francis is the Patron Saint of Animals, Birds, Fire, Merchants and Solitary death. The last time I saw this medal was when I ordered it about 3 or 4 months prior to 9/11/01. Beginning around May or June of 2001, I had been having nightmare after nightmare of a nuclear holocaust, with one vivid dream of an airplane propeller slicing through a crowd of people in New York. I felt desperate for protection, and although born into a family of Catholics, I wasn't raised in the Catholic Church and knew very little about the saints. I researched online for a patron saint (guardian angel?), found St. Francis and ordered a medal for both Jeff and I to carry in our wallets.
An all-encompassing smell of petroleum, followed by my guardian angel's icon: I'm sensing we creatures of Earth all need a little (a lot???) protection in the months to come...
My dreams, visions, sightings and a healthy dose of holistic and homeopathic remedies: the paranormal and unusual world of Kerry Murphy
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