The Family Bible.

"Laughter is good for the immune system!" Flossie Boomer told herself. This was it, the day she planned to start her new online career. www. clairvoyant-at-home.com

Flossie was descended from an impressive and scary array of the society of dead Grandmas. Their team leader had been Great-Grandma. Flossie, a style icon of fat fleecies, was the holder of the definitive family Bible. "And you're fat!" the shade of Great-Grandma spoke.

Yes, Flossie and her boomer sisters had inherited the cuddlesome gene. Phwoar! Flossie was not a hottie. She smiled. But wait. She was receiving a clairvoyant's message from the other side. The symbol and signal were clear. Flossie was hearing, "I see "S" for shower in your immediate future."

Ever complicit, Flossie did her ablutions. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness!" My, oh my, the spirit world is lively today. She, too, could sound like Great-Grandma.

So Flossie wiped the mirror, and cleaned the shower. " 'H' is for housework." "Housework makes you slim." That was the theory of all her grandmas. Quite prophetic, if not entirely accurate. Flossie's Great-Grandma was never lost for an adage in her family Bible.

"And you're fat!" "Yeah, yeah, got that." Flossie muttered, wondering why the mother of such boomers was emerging in her brain. It was an age thing, she guessed, that all her grandmas' thoughts had melded with her neurons. It might have been terrifying, but one was never alone.

"Procrastination is the thief of time!" "The nights are drawing on, and Christmas is coming." Flossie was receiving a vivid image of Christmas gift wrapping in her future on the weekend. "Post early!" said an advertisement on the radio. It seemed life was full of hidden instructions.

"You're fat! That's about that!" "Yeah, yeah," muttered Flossie Boomer, the as yet unlaunched online clairvoyant. She sneezed. Oh no! Germs! Did she see a health provider in her future? What would he or she say? "Here's a script for antibiotics. You have the flu. Off to the pharmacist. See me next week if you do not improve." Flossie was a great reader of beyond the pharmacy's veil, or was experience a great teacher?

" 'B'stands for bed rest...." "Come on, prophets, come on!" Flossie told herself. "Now you've got something to whinge about!" Great-Grandmas words echoed from beyond the between. The family Bible was getting a workout today. "Too true, too true," Flossie Boomer was having a whinge as she went back to bed.

Flossie Boomer had a cold, influenza, or Covid. " 'N' stands for nap," she told herself, "Cannot be too hyperactive. Poor old me." "Strike while the iron's hot!" the shade uttered. Flossie dozed off, snuffling her germs. Her new website could wait.

Waking up, Flossie Boomer received a message from the other side. "Waste not, want not!" So she ate in bed, some leftover chicken. Tomorrow, she would make some good old chicken broth. If she ever arose from this bed of virus.

Today, Flossie Boomer had dispensation. She was hearing a retinue of messages from her other side, whether anyone in her family believed in witching. She checked her witchline. "Go to bed early and get a good night's sleep." Good, sound, practical advice. Let's face it, no one in Flossie's family was ever short of a word.

The morning dawned, raining and cold. "Loose lips sink ships." Flossie was not going to tell her fearsome sisters about her upcoming future career as a mystic visionary life coach. That good news would be for her unmet online clients and fans. "Do not trip up trouble." Great-Grandma was the chattiest one in the bloodline.

Flossie Boomer had wrecked her knee doing the vacuuming the day before. Hobbling back to bed, she noted 'B' is for bed rest, as a suitable past time before she started her brilliant new career and lifestyle. If, indeed, boomers in fleece can be thought of as having a lifestyle.

Flossie lay in bed, gazing at the rain pouring past her window. Maybe she had a temperature. " 'H' is for hypochondriacs," she prophetically told herself. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness!" "Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay." Flossie Boomer staggered through her shower. Back to bed, too exhausting. 'N' stood for nap, in Flossie's future. Gee, she was good. Or goofy.

Still, no one is ever alone, Flossie considered. She held the family Bible, from the spirit world. Then she picked up her large print Christian Bible, reading the part in Matthew about not being under the same roof. That said it all. Soon she would start her website.

"Guess there's your positive thinking, and your negative, stinking thinking." Flossie Boomer was being wise today. This sounded like some good mystic advice she could dispense online, very ethereal. For a fee, of course. Her clients could cross her online palm with silver. A premium fee would bring Flossie's individual lotto numbers, predictions, life coaching, and messages from the other side, across the veil on this side of midnight. Winner!

She still had not established her website. Flossie lay back on her pillows, feeling woozy. "When do I want to procrastinate?" she asked herself, "Now, or later?" Feeling undecided, she nodded off into another nap for mysticism of senior esprit de corps with all her germies.

Flossie's red face matched her red, bleary eyes when she awoke again. Flossie still did not feel alone. Both her family Bibles gave her free messages from the beyond. She sent a silent prayer for healing. Flossie Boomer believed that no one prays alone. All the angels are still on their thrones, barracking for their loved ones, here in this mortal coil.

With that uplifting thought, Flossie Boomer foraged in the fridge, in true hunter gatherer style. There was a lot to be said for chocolate as a food group. God was still good, for He or She had created rich, luscious, family size blocks of chocolate. In addition, if she could stagger to the computer, she could order more food groups to be delivered.

Not to worry, "Things will look better in the morning!" She could still receive such optimism in the ephemeral. Or maybe she had a fever. Whatever. Nothing to worry about, really.

On the third day, Flossie Boomer rose again, thanking the Lord above for the healing talents of chocolate. Flossie turned on her desktop, in the old-fashioned way. Perhaps she could combine her talents. As well as being an online clairvoyant, she could become an online healer, like a female Bishop of a worldwide church of faith in chocolate. Plus some racing tips. Race One, Number Three. A handsome chestnut, Mildly Delusional.

What would Great-Grandma say? "Put your best foot forward." Old Great-Grandma seemed to say. "Great, Flossie, great!' Flossie said. Anyone for a sweet little grandma? Or was Halloween time of year? Scary........