Blogging from Beyond

Hello, April Patterson's readers. This is the Ghost of Grandma Marian, hacking into April's account. Normally, we ghosts are urged not too interfere too much in the lives of the living, but sometimes a spirit just gets fed up!

Recently, my daughter Elly and granddaughter Elizabeth went to the home of my grandson Michael and his wife Deanna, so that Liz could try on "my" dress, after Deanna's alterations. I commented here before to say that I don't know whose dress that is, but it ain't mine! My dress had a high collar, buttons up the front, mutton-chop sleeves, and no lace. It fit in perfectly with my image as a veteran of the Royal Canadian Air Force.

So, Liz put on this dress that looks like something you can pick up off the rack at any bridal store today, and she stood up on a block that Dee had placed for her. Dee was pinning the hem, and Elly was kneeling in such a way that, for a moment, I thought she'd lost her legs. Then I saw one pathetic little heel of hers peeking awkwardly behind the swath of white fabric she was holding aloft, and I knew she still had legs, only they were poorly attached.

Next thing I knew, Dee was pulling at Liz's bodice, pins in mouth, as Elly held the pin cushion and Liz had an incongruously smug expression on her face. Maybe it was the novelty of being "felt up."

Liz continued to look smug, closing her eyes and posing as if a photographer from Modern Bride were in the room, and Elly said, "You've done a wonderful job on this dress, Deanna!" And Deanna said, "Thanks, Elly!"

Liz opened her eyes as Dee tugged at the waist line and said, "It sure was hard to cut the fabric. I kept wondering what your Mom would think." And Elly said, "My mother would have loved to see her wedding dress worn again." I guess that's true. I wonder where it is?

Elly told Liz, "Turn around again, please, Elizabeth." And Liz twirled about while saying, "Like this?" Elly said, "Yes... I think she'd have been very happy. And if she was here right now.... She'd be helping you to try it on." I was about to say, "No, Elly, it's 'if she were here right now,'" when suddenly I saw another ghost, a plump, cheerful, stereotypical 'grandma' type, holding a ghostly veil aloft, as if she were about to place it on top of my granddaughter's head.

Naturally, I had to intervene. I tackled her and said, "Who the heck are you?" She said, "Why, I'm Emma Sue Jenkins! I used to live just down the street, when I was alive that is. I love weddings! I used to crash every single wedding in Milborough, and no one ever stopped me, because I was a sweet old lady and they figured I knew someone. I think this veil would look lovely on your granddaughter." I said, "Don't be stupid. You can't put a ghost-veil on a living bride! Didn't you read the manual?" Emma Sue got up, dusted herself off with her ghost-veil, and said, "Hmph! I'll find another wedding to get involved with!" And she passed through the door.

Later, as Elly bathed in the claw-footed tub that's in the basement of their new house (the space that's supposed to be April's), I stood to one side and judged her. What kind of a mother is she, spreading lies that April's been picking flowers from the neighbourhood gardens, just so she can simultaneously get April out of the house (to use the tub) and also cover for that no-good son of hers, whom she never taught you should never steal flowers from people's gardens? I'm going to judge her some more after I wrap up this entry for you all.

Cordially yours,

Ghost of Grandma Marian