Fact, Fiction, or Freaky?

You know that feeling when you meet someone for the first time and you feel like you've known them all your life?

Or when you see someone's "twin" at the mall or the movie theatre and you are 100% sure they were not separated at birth, like in a cheesy after-school special?

Weird, for sure.

Something very similar happened to me, but it doesn't fall into either of those two freaky categories. It's stranger than fact or fiction.

Is it Karma? The Universe? Or the Great and Powerful Oz? 

(Yes, we watched the critically un-acclaimed Muppet's Wizard of Oz on the weekend. Twice. It was one of the world's worst Ground Hog Day moments.)

Ah, but I have drifted.

The point is, that whatever the source, what happened to be me last week was extremely odd.

It's a sort of Literary Doppelganger.

Are you ready to be slightly amused, dumbfounded, or quite possibly all-out shocked?

Mr. B.'s Doppelganger - Mr. Hoover the Principal.

When I received my eBook, back in December, I noticed a striking similarity in appearance of one of the characters in the book to one of the teachers at the school where I work.


What a cute coincidence I thought.

Mr. B IS Mr. Hoover.

Once I received the paper book, I quickly realized one of the other characters looked like another one of our illustrious teachers.

Coincidence again?  

Methinks not.

It was so eerie that the staff began to wonder if I had this done on purpose. But since I wrote the book 4 years ago, and only started at Linden Meadows last year, this is impossible.

Mr. Hood IS Mr. Cohen.

Mr. Hood's Doppelganger - Mr. Cohen the Librarian

(Plus, my cartooning abilities remain firmly in the stick people realm.)

I am now looking to find Mrs. Rosetti, Mr. O'Brien and Mrs. Chan in the faces of our staff. Who knows whose fictional twin is lurking in the halls of Linden Meadows...

A Stroll Down Karma Street

www.trollable.com



 

I think Karma is one of the greatest inventions. 

 

What you put out there, comes back to you - the good, the bad, and always the ugly.

A few weeks ago, my mom and I were sitting in my living room, sipping our coffee, catching up. She reminded me of a question I asked her, back when I was still in college. Back when we still thought of spanks as something children avoided, not something you wore under a cocktail dress.

I had been watching her mail a letter of complaint to some company who had not delivered the high quality service they’d guaranteed. She was quite the expert in giving, “constructive criticism.” Mom was never rude. She was polite, yet firm, believing the only way a company could improve was through customer feedback.

“Mom,” I said that day, “Do you send as many thank you letters for great service as you do for bad service?”

My question made her stop and consider her actions and from that day on, she became a champion of the Good News Letter.

The End.

(Ah, not quite.)



Although that would’ve been a tidy little story, I worried you may have left thinking, "Is that all? Isn't there more?" 

 

www.getinvolved.ca

Why, yes! Yes there is!

Pretty soon this blog is going to take a stroll down Karma Street. Big time.

Earlier in the year, Mom was rushed to the hospital by ambulance (yes, she is fine) and this particularly caring paramedic took especially good care of her. To show her appreciation and to tell him how this extra attention relieved her fears, Mom wrote him a thank you note. She said it took her about 10 minutes to put her gratitude into words. 10 minutes. That's 600 seconds.

Many months later, she was at her favourite breakfast spot, The Garwood Grill, and the server told her a remarkable tale.

“My friend is a paramedic,” the server said, “ and he's had this thank you card posted on his fridge for ages. It's tattered around the edges. He said getting it was the proudest moment of his entire career.”

And can you guess who sent that letter? Right again. My mom.

Now, that is Karma.

It’s those little comments. A simple thank you note.

Small acts of kindness can make all the difference.

They can have real impact.

They can change lives.

Go for it.



www.myspiritgarden.com

 

Don't be Messing with Karma.

All parents know it. Once you’ve had children you are no longer allowed to brag. About anything. Even the smallest accomplishments that you or your children achieve must be kept cloistered away, never to be shared with those outside your home.

If you dare remark on your own good fortune, Karma will come a’ callin.’

Guaranteed.

And not the good, happy-happy Karma either. I’m talking about Murphy’s Law Karma.

Yes, the Karma that’s spawned when Irish bad luck and Indian folklore meet over a pint of Guinness and a pot of C’hai tea. It’s wicked nasty and should be avoided at all cost.

Yes, oh Great Karma, I am guilty.

I messed up. I forgot the rule and I bragged. I boasted on facebook for the whole world to read, that I had a full night’s sleep. Zero interruptions. No children waking from bad dreams, needing back rubs. No pooch  making tiny OCD circles by my feet, dog tags jingling wildly. No blackberry pings, jolting Drew from sleep, grunting incoherently.

And I didn’t crow about just one night of slumber, but I went so far as to gloat about two uninterrupted glorious nights…in a row. Go big or go home, I always say. Woopsie.

So what gift did Murphy’s Law Karma present me as punishment for my bravado?

Two inglorious nights of insomnia – awake until 1:00, with a side of Monkey-Brain – random worries flooded my brain as I remained sleepless, all unpleasantly capped off by Rooster-Riser – scruffy-eyed and half alert at 4:30.

My lesson has been learnt, oh Great Karma. I promise to keep silent on all future accomplishments.

Oh. Hmm.

I wonder if sharing my daughter’s great report card would be considered bragg…kk9l';'g..kdm

Doh. Hand Cramp. Owie. Duly noted, Karma.