Are You Wicked Enough? Exploring the Archetype of the Wicked Witch…
Author: Gray Lady
Daily Archives: October 25, 2011
Are You Wicked Enough? Exploring the Archetype of the Wicked Witch…
The Wicked Witch is a main stay of the word “Witchcraft” whether anyone likes it or not. We see her as the commercialized Halloween Witch and the nasty witch in the Wizard of Oz. Many of us practicing witches have attempted to throw out the ugly green-faced hag to embrace a more realistic and pleasing vision of our religion. But is really what we should do?
Samhain Inspired Thoughts on Community
Samhain Inspired Thoughts on Community
Author: Crick
Hey folks, Samhain energies are at work and so I woke up this morning with some thoughts that I would like to share. First I would like to preface my thoughts with an analogy that I learned about many years ago. Basically, it is about a frog and a scorpion.
The Scorpion wanted to get to the opposite shore of the English Channel. And so he sought out various creatures that could assist him in the endeavor. Each time he was turned down, in part because of the fear of who he was and in part because of what he was capable of doing to others.
At any rate, he finally came to Frog with his entreaty. At first Frog turned him down like all of the others before him. But Scorpion kept pleading, as he knew this was his last chance to reach the opposite shore. Finally Frog relented and agreed to carry scorpion across the channel on his back. When they got to the middle of the channel, Scorpion stung Frog with his venomous tail.
Aghast, Frog cried out to Scorpion, “Why did you sting me, for I am dying and we shall both surely drown now?”
Scorpion responded, “You knew the nature of my personality before you agreed to help me!”
There are several reasons why I offer this analogy as a preface to my early morning thoughts. Imagine that, an Irishman resorting to the art of Triad (grin) . To begin with, there has been a great deal of talk over the years by modern pagans about “pagan community”. The reality is that such a community is a long way from becoming a valid entity. It is a concept that is rife with the insecurities of those who claim to adhere to such a concept. Many modern pagans were once members of the Abraham faiths, in particular, Christianity. And in many cases, such folks have parents, siblings, relatives and friends who still are Christians or what have you. And that is all good.
However, this has created a consistent undercurrent of insecurity because these modern pagans feel an overwhelming need to either hide their current pagan beliefs from their families and friends or to frantically seek approval from such folks.
To my mind, if folks have doubts about their self-professed beliefs, then perhaps they should reassess their desire to follow said beliefs. For to be true to others, one must first be able to be true to yourself. And such insecurities are detrimental to any efforts to build a genuine community whether it be modern paganism or what have you.
In view of such insecurities, there are many modern pagans — either individuals or groups — who feel that their primary mission as pagans is to engage in outreach with other religions. In spite of the fact that there are over four-hundred established religions in the modern world, this generally means that these modern pagans ignore four-hundred of these religions and reach out primarily and in most cases, specifically to the Christian religion.
At this point, I would like to point out that in this age of electronics that genuine communications skills are falling to the wayside. The current generation is losing the art of one-on-one communication due to their reliance on such electronic devices.
And as such, there will inevitably be the “me, me, me” types who will assume they know what I am trying to convey here. They will not seek clarification, because they already have the ‘answers’ to my thoughts… at least within their own self imposed limitations they will think so.
To such folks, I can only shrug my shoulders and hope that one day they will actually grow spiritually and thus find the genuine wisdom to understand a concept that is greater than themselves.
It will be said that that damn Crick hates Christians. My response would be “of course not”, but like the scorpions, I am aware of their own established behavior.
It will be said that that damn Crick is against community outreach. My response would be “Of course not”, but it should not be a primary and driving force in order to validate my pagan beliefs. And such outreach should be “attempted” with an expectation to meet with an equal amount of reciprocity… reciprocity of which is clearly absent from the Christian community. Yes of course there are exceptions to every rule, but it is realistically not the norm.
What then to my mind should be our primary goal you may ask? Well actually there are two very general goals if the modern pagan community is ever to reach a degree of cohesion and thus validity as a genuine community.
The first is to accept the realities of your chosen path. There are very few, if any, real “Masters” in modern paganism. The regurgitation of over the last fifty years of “101 Paganism” should be clear confirmation of this. And besides, we are all students over the course of our lives.
It is this denial of being a student that gives birth to the plethora of twenty and thirty-year-old ‘masters’ that modern paganism is noted for. It is also this denial that precludes modern pagans from acknowledging the pagan paths around the world that have been in place for many, many generations. And finally, it is this denial that sets modern pagans upon those who actually may know more than just the basic 101 scripts that defines modern paganism.
This is why the word “Elder” creates such a conflicting morass amongst modern pagans. For to define the word “Elder” in the manner that it is used among pre-modern pagans is to admit that one may actually be a student and not the “wise know it all’ that so many modern pagans strive to present themselves as, no matter how subtlety it is done. Yes, I know. Let the denials begin. It is to be expected when insecurities cloud reality. Besides, in this modern generation, everyone is right and no one is responsible, which is why we have the current me, me, me mindset in the first place.
Anyway, moving on.
The modern pagan community needs to find the strength to grow beyond such self-centered concepts of me-ism. Each community, pagan or otherwise is the sum of its members. If the modern pagan community is ever to become a genuine community, it must first learn to be true to its own tenets. Many within the modern pagan community will mouth the words acceptance and diversity. Sounds like good tenets to establish a community by doesn’t it?
And yet as soon as a free thinker such as myself proffers an “opinion” that is divergent from some other pagan, well … the ugliness rears its head. Hateful and disparaging words are hurled at will, in an attempt to hurt the author of such individual thoughts, and in extreme cases, threats of physical violence are made. Are such reactions, which in all reality are based upon personal insecurities really conductive to creating a sense of cohesiveness in a budding community?
And finally, we need to find the strength to break out of the modern concept of “me-ism” and reach out to other pagans in this fragile community without preconceptions and/or preconditions. As an umbrella community, we do not walk in lockstep with each other. The modern pagan community, unlike pagan communities of olden times which consisted of folks of identical beliefs and usually of small enclaves such as covens, tribes and the like, is now a morass of many, many different paths.
We need to reach a genuine understanding of the modern interpretation of pagan community that goes beyond just mouthing the words.
Perhaps when we develop genuine outreach amongst ourselves then we can validate the inordinate amount of energy that some modern pagan individuals/groups employ towards the Christian religion as being based on something other than an attempt to give in to ones personal insecurities.
Before I stop here and grab my first cup of java of the morning, please keep in mind that the preceding thoughts are simply the personal opinion of one old witch who has more years behind him then he has in left in front of him. And before you allow the “me -ism” to take precedence in your thoughts, please understand that my sole purpose in this rant is to spark the fuse of thought… it is an attempt to ignite a blaze of introspection that in the end will open the door to a understanding that is greater than you or I.
Now, where is that cup of java?
It is this denial of being a student that gives birth to the plethora of twenty and thirty-year-old ‘masters’ that modern paganism is noted for. It is also this denial that precludes modern pagans from acknowledging the pagan paths around the world that have been in place for many, many generations. And finally, it is this denial that sets modern pagans upon those who actually may know more than just the basic 101 scripts that defines modern paganism.
A Taste of Autumn
A Taste of Autumn
Author: Lady Rain StarDragon (Teresa Garcia)
Over the past several days, I’ve watched the maple tree between the laundry room window and the Mountain. Slowly, the vibrant green has yellowed to gold, and today, the whole tree now blazes a brilliant vermilion. Other trees still wear their green, like our own maples, while yet others are changing into their yellow robes. Across the street and all through the neighborhood, those that have apple trees have the golden and scarlet fruits of the season.
The air bites when I step out into the chill, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I am constantly in a state of in between, my dragon self balances well with my human self, and so I can sense when my plumes stand up a little, and the shiver passes clear to the tip of my tail. When walking in this, the blasts of wind the town site was chosen for combs through my head and I can’t always resist the urge to spread my wings and revel in the feel.
Now is the time for hot apple pies heavy with cinnamon, and soon the pumpkins will be ready for harvest. Thoughts of warm pumpkin bread and persimmon cookies dance through my head. Sometime soon, I know that I will give in to the desire for pie, and indulge in the ecstasy that comes with baking, and then eating the fruits of my labors with loved ones.
The sky is gray, the clouds high and not touching the Mountain; yet again I’m sure the Mountain will wear a little more white. The wind and rain that caresses the land at night brings forth a purr from me, and inwardly I coil. Now is not the time to den though. This is the season of the harvest and the hunt.
Where Tia is, I know that she feels similar urges to mine. If I close my eyes, even during the day I can hear the short pant of her breath as we run through the forests in our dreams. Though we are different species, there are things that we share…
However, it is the waking world of physical form that I am in now, not the metaphysical one where not all is as it seems at first glance. Even in this waking world, I can practice my art. I can be One with Nature, draw it deeply into myself.
I have noticed that lately I have started wearing clothes that echo the changing leaves, a subconscious nod to the stately trees that teach me so much. The trees begin to draw their essence further inside of themselves, and I do as well.
The chill encourages this, this time of introspection and preparation. Now is a good time to finish things, and then I can have a little rest. The earth murmurs softly as the wind passes by, a reminder that change is the only constant.
The ranges around are still mostly green; various evergreens make up most of our forests here, despite the deciduous trees that are beginning their turning.
It is said that at this time, the veil between worlds is thin, and I’m inclined to believe it. I’ve always noticed that at this time of year, dreams become easier to recall and more vivid. It could be inspired by the weather, which inspired deep contemplation, but there is more to it.
The pendulum swings and the wheel turns, this is the way of my world. The voices grow louder, and sometimes even those that aren’t particularly open have interesting experiences.
It is also said that, in folklore and traditionally, anything left in the fields after the 31, must be left for the fey folk. Not only is it easier to pass between worlds, but they need food as well… It’s said that they blight anything left in the fields, I have sometimes wondered whether it’s because of the freeze possibility messing with the food, or whether it’s from them taking the essence… or some combination. At any rate, much of modern society doesn’t seem to follow this.
Perhaps it is a good idea to let the late stuff stay though… the nutrients return to the ground to nourish the earth, and animals have food to eat… The deer will not be quite so hungry, and the predators will benefit from this, but so will those prey animals that are fed upon. With the scat and vegetation turned under, the soil will be richer, and we will have a little less impact. But these are random thoughts as I let myself mingle with the season.
The waters grow colder with the temperature changes, and soon enough the lakes will begin to freeze. Ice will form over the rivers, though some larger ones will stay unfrozen. Small streams will sleep. But for now, we are between, and Summer mixes with Winter to make this Autumn.
Some traditions depict this time as a War between the two Kings of Summer and Winter. I’ve often thought of it more as the union of Summer and Winter, the blending and uniting of the two… male and female each season, yet neither sex as well. Two forces or essences swirling and merging, pressing into each other until at last… one gives with a last sleepy sigh and gentle nuzzle.
Summer sleeps then in the arms of Winter, and he/she covers them both with a mantle of snow as he/she watches the Beloved sleep and incubate the new life, resting for the next shifting in the Spring.
This is the Deep Magic, working with these forces that eternally shift and merge, draw apart and dance together again. This is what holds me trapped as I dance with Life and Death, Growth and Rest.
When people ask me what I think about the weather, I never know how to answer them in the moment. It is the weather, and the season, and I am a part of it, responding ever to the promptings. I’d like to share the ecstasy that a good gust of wind gives me as it passes by, leaves swirling giddily in its wake.
This is all that I can do… leave you with a taste and a touch, and let you hear the sighs of Summer and Winter in their Autumn Meeting.
My Broom is Bigger than Your Broom
My Broom is Bigger than Your Broom
Author: Lady Abigail
Walking across the freshly harvested field of hay, I watched the sun as it sank, little by little, between the great oaks on the hillside. The trees seemed to be burning in the autumn colors of orange, gold and red. The air quickly became crisp and cool.
Smoke from my Great Grandmother’s chimney lay heavy in the air, like it was dancing in the vanishing twilight. The sweet aroma of the evening placed images within my mind. For me, it was as if the essence from times past were encircling me in a mist of stories not yet told.
I could hear the crunch of each of my footsteps as I walked across the field home. Suddenly, the sounds changed around me. I heard more footsteps, a wagon bouncing across the bridge, and cars turning down the dirt road, chased by the dusty shadows behind them.
I ran as quickly as my short legs would carry me to reach the house so I could hug those that were my family. My heart was pounding like a drum from some distant land. This night was special; this was the night of the ancestors, the night of the calling, calling the dead.
I had been watching all day, for I understood the magick that this night would bring. The energy found within the veils and the mystical visions that would be called to those that stood within the circle to be cast.
They were called the sisters, my aunts. Each one filled my life with stories and knowledge of the old ways. Each was a Witch and Crone in her own right. Each one was different and each was a force of nature, independent and strong. Not one was accountable to the other until they stood beneath the moon as a covenant of power.
My aunts, my family, were not as other families. We didn’t look the same, we didn’t speak the same, and we didn’t even think the same. But that was okay. Now I see what a wonderful and magickal gift that was; diverse energies, histories, and traditions that came together as one all-encompassing power.
My Great Grandmother was Cajun. Her Native American beauty gave her dark skin and silken raven hair marked with silver from time and wisdom. Myself, born of mixed blood, had been given extremely light-colored skin and white blond hair, what those in the old south called a “toe head.”
Even as a child, I learned the judgmental hearts of others. I saw how some treated my Great Grandmother, how some looked at us as odd when they saw us together. Sometimes people could be extremely rude and say hurtful things.
Many would turn their backs as we walked by. Some didn’t understand and didn’t realize that this dark-skinned woman was my Grandmother. But within all the dim-wittedness of those around us, what I remember most was my Great Grandmother’s pride and forgiving heart.
As twilight turned into night, the great feast was placed on the long table in my Grandmother’s house. The sisters respectfully placed the setting on the table for the ancestors. I was now old enough to help and got to light the candles all around the room.
There were countless candles. Most were the bees’ wax candles my Great Grandmother and the sisters had made during the spring and again just at the break of fall. I walked quietly from table to table, lighting each candle with a blessing. The honey-scent fragrance, mixed with the smells from the food and the holiday, gave way to an energy that made my skin tingle with excitement.
Once the feast was ended, it was time to ready for the calling. My Great Grandmother asked me to go to the back porch and bring her in her broom. I stood for a moment outside on that tiny wood porch held in place by the stones under each corner.
I looked at the glow coming through the windows and falling on the sparkling ground, now wet with dew. The sensation of my family gleamed in the warmth that shown from within that small house. I had no doubt that the spirits would be moved to join us that night. My spirit had found flight with the energy of love that surrounded me.
The sisters now walk within the veils with my Great Grandmother, and at this time of year, the time of the calling, I will welcome them all and ask that they join my table for the feast. Now I am the Crone; I seek within my Great Grandmother’s teaching to be a wise woman.
I endeavor to teach all those that walk our path in the old ways, with acceptance, truth, and light. My family has aged, changed, and grown. My circle is filled with those that I love, both brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, in a blending of various traditions. I am truly blessed.
Not long ago, while attending different gatherings, I sadly watched and heard many that walk our path begin to rank themselves among each other. For lack of a better term, I would have to say it was a syndrome of “my broom is bigger than your broom, ” or my tradition is better than your tradition.
It frightens me that we have somehow decided we are better than another because of what name they choose to call themselves or what magickal path they walk.
Do we really need to judge each other?
Many of us proudly call ourselves Witches and Pagans. Some use the traditions of the path they have selected within their title. Some will call themselves by nothing at all, but simply know they have found themselves within their own hearts.
Along this diverse path, I have spoken to many within our communities, and they speak of finding their way home and reclaiming life within our varied and blending traditions, escaping the critical judgments of past beliefs.
The sisters, my aunts, were also very different. They came from all over the Ozarks. Some of them were old, some younger, some dark, some light, some with grey hair and some with red. They were scholars, teachers, mothers, and wise women. Each was as different as the night is to the day, yet each was respectful of the other beyond question.
They did not talk about what the other family members were doing or not doing. They did not discuss in what manner one worked within magick over the other. They respected each other with honor and shared their understandings together.
In truth, we are each individuals; our practices and beliefs are equally individual. We are all following our own spiritual and magickal path. Let us be a gathering of like-minded souls, yet, at the same time, strive to be open- minded and accepting of each other’s personal differences. We are all equal as we walk together, no matter which path we take in the walking.
It is not necessary to pull others down to strengthen ourselves. Strength is found as our circle grows in understanding of each other. As we enter this time of welcoming the ancients and the wise ones, let us stand as a cohesive brotherhood and sisterhood, brought together by the belief, that within understanding, all things are possible.
It is time that we all, each one of us, reflect on how far we have came, and how hard a path we all traveled. Remembering the sacrifices of those that walked this path before us, let us think before we judge or criticize another. Then shall we truly stand together in this magickal circle as it expands within the universe.
Together let us be as one family to celebrate our beliefs within life and magick.
Can You Recognize a Pagan or a Wiccan When You See One?
Can You Recognize a Pagan or a Wiccan When You See One?
Author: jajlo b
I have only been studying and practicing Wicca (and I say practicing since I’m not perfect) for the last 10 years. I’m very much eclectic, and have had to do much of it on my own. I just haven’t found a teacher that I feel is right. And in all honesty, I’m not looking for one just now. I enjoy my freedom to digest what I read in many forms and what comes to me through my dreams, and mediations.
But I often wonder… can you really tell who is Pagan or Wiccan and who is not, by some outward sign?
I mean I know a lot of people who wear t-shirts with faeries and fey on them. I have seen people with bumper stickers saying, “Give me that old time religion” and a Pentacle right next to the phrase. I have even seen t-shirts in Kansas near where the Wizard of Oz museum is with “Good Witch” on the front. (I actually have that one because I have a strange sense of humor.)
But in all honesty, how do you tell a Pagan or a Wiccan from everyone else you meet in your daily life and travels.
The reason that I ask is because of two separate occurrences that happened to my husband and me.
Okay picture if you will, walking into a truck stop about 11 p.m. one night and the cashier is busy with a line full of costumers. And she is wearing one of those fancy sterling silver pentacles. Not a pewter one, but one that you know is sterling silver and she has a small Pentacle ring on that I notice as her fingers are flying across the cash register keys.
Anyway my husband and me finally make our choices and approach the cashier. “Hi, that is a pretty necklace.”
“Thank you, I’m a High Priestess, and my daughter had me order this from such and such” is the response she gave.
Ok, not exactly the response that I was looking for or expected. I only commented on her necklace. I had to do double-check my appearance; yep my pewter Pentacle was safe inside my uniform shirt. And I don’t have any tats or rings or earrings that have Pentacles on them. So why did she just come across with that answer.
Just then I realize she is still talking about the necklace. She goes on to tell me that she was thinking about doing a consecration ritual when it comes in the mail. But she decided not open it till the night of the full moon. So she could do the whole ritual properly (I still haven’t said anything else at this point) .
She goes on to explain she got her ritual bath and set up her altar and went to her room to get the necklace (This was an outdoor ritual she adds almost in a whisper as there is another customer at the register) . But as she goes to take it out of the tissue paper that is wrapped up she gets a shot of what she can only describe as static electricity.
Just then she says she realized that the maker of the necklace had consecrated it when they created the piece. Her daughter quickly tells her to just put it on, and wear as the artist that created it had to be stronger and more skilled than her and her ritual would only ruin the piece.
I tell her that is amazing and thank you for sharing with me and I walk away with my husband, who looks at me and says, “She’s a High Priestess. You didn’t even tell her you were Wiccan. So how did she know?”
I just look at him and shrug, “Beats me”
About a month later sitting in Montana at another truck stop we are eating. I see the younger couple come in (They look to be in their mid to late 20’s; my husband and I are in our 40’s) with their two children. I’m facing the door so I can see the t-shirt the young woman is wearing” 51 percent Angel/ 49 percent Pagan {don’t push it}.
I laughed. “ I like your shirt” I say while giggling about the thought of it.
“Thanks. I’m a High Priestess, ” she says back to me. And walks past.
I look at my husband; he looks at me, and says, “ What is it about declaring High Priestess status suddenly?”
I shake my head and double-check my appearance. My pentacle is in my shirt, not visible to anyone. So what is the deal with people saying this when I just comment on something they are wearing?
Suddenly the young lady comes back over to my table and she ask me point blank.” Do you know what Paganism is?”
“Yes, I do.” I tell her then I tell her I’m a solitary Wiccan.
“Oh really!” she says with a smile and some excitement in her voice (someone that she could talk for a few minutes) “ I was a solitary but then all my friends started coming to me and asking me to help them figure out what books they should read, so I ask them if they wanted to just start a coven with me.
They all said yes, and I told them we could do this but I would have to be the High Priestess since they came to me for advice in the first place.”
“Did they all agree to that?” I ask.
“Yes they did, ” she informs me. “My husband drives truck and he is heading to take me home so that I can do a new moon ritual and an initiation this weekend. I have to run to restroom. I’ll be right back”
She walked off, and my husband looks at me and asks, “Is that the way it is done in a coven” (I’m Wiccan; my husband is Catholic)
“No, ” I tell him, “ it is not done that way”
The young lady comes back and asks me to hold out my left hand palm down. I did and she places her right hand under palm side up. She looks at me and proceeds to tell me” Your energy isn’t very strong. I think you need to study more”
“ I have a head and chest cold that is eating up a lot of my energy right now trying to heal.”
“Well I can tell when people aren’t that strong of a Witch. I was doing a tarot reading on a chat line and for a woman in Ireland and she left in the middle of her reading to talk to her High Priestess”, she says
“Why did she go talk to her High Priestess? “ I asked
“Well when she came back she told me that her High Priestess told her that if I was able to pick up on the things that I was that I was one of the strongest High Priestess she had ever heard of.”
“And the woman told me that her High Priestess was now afraid of me”
I just smile and say, ” That is wild that another High Priestess in another country would be so afraid of you.”
She smiles and says” But I know that I’m that powerful and can do that, so that makes me one of the strong elders in this life”
She says she has to go; her husband is motioning for her to come on and help with the kids.
My husband and I get up and walk up to pay for our food, and my husband ask me, ” How do people just know that you are Pagan or a Wiccan?”
“I don’t know, ” I tell him.
To this day, I often wonder. Can you really tell a Pagan or Wiccan from some other outward sign?
Or were these two women just trying to startle me because I made a comment about their religious items?
View From My Side of the Broomstick
View From My Side of the Broomstick
Author: Keyokwee
I am always amazed and enlightened by the differing views that we all take away from our encounters with each other and Mother Nature herself. We can choose to look at ritual performed in the moonlight in the nude, as a powerful statement, a beautiful sign that there is nothing between yourself and Goddess, or simply cover up. But the choice is yours to do so and no less is thought of you if you choose not to do so.
Also since I am a Crone, I can truly savor a wicked sense of humor when it is delivered with justice! My husband, while pagan, does not go for the “foo-fer-all” of rituals instead preferring to sit on the sidelines and watch (usually mildly amused) . But he does understand and accepts me, as I am when I do my thing.
Now in the Crone aspect of life, I can truly respect Hecate. I am constantly amazed by what she can teach me, including and especially, in preparation for the unexpected in life. And since I’m mainly Irish, Hecate likes to throw a twist of the Murphy’s into my life, to keep me on my toes, and to gently remind me to cover my bases before throwing myself enthusiastically into my worship.
I’m reminded that I must approach Her with extreme caution and Wisdom because she will deliver a lesson that you’re sure never to forget. As Hecate is kind of like the Goddess of the Crones, she respects the fact that one is a Crone and allows some leeway for it. But in my case, She delights in delivering her lessons with a ruthless sense of humor. Case in point…
My husband and I live in a very rural part of Northern CA, and we like our privacy. It’s wonderful to have such freedom with no neighbors in sight. We have an above ground pool that is well used during the summer and we feel we can safely skinny-dip in the pool or pretty much walk au-natural around our house. (Polite people call before barging in!) And I feel quite comfortable in my own skin. So when my younger neighbor topped the hill after crossing the front pasture…I think that he pretty much got what he deserved!
It was a typical end to a very hot day. My husband I took advantage of the near darkness to dip into the delicious coolness of our pool and then climbed out to sit at our patio table. Each had our beverage of choice in hand. Mine was wine; his was beer. We were both caught up in the magic of the stars starting to twinkle overhead and the crickets and tree frogs were starting to turn up the volume on their nightly serenade.
There is something seductive about this time of the evening, especially when you are pagan. It’s one of the two times during the day that light meets dark and embraces. So we have come to expect that anything to happen.
I started humming and swaying and dancing around, caught up in the moment and had just raised my glass in a salute to the Goddess when the applications of Nature were driven home. The ensuing chain of events was a lesson to us all.
For it was at that time that our neighbor chose to walk over the top of the hill. But was that the end of it? Oh! Heck No!
Throw in the Murphy’s Law Applications: One Reubenesque Crone. Darkness falling. A salute to the Goddess with a glassful of wine. A gopher hole. And nine billion mosquitoes that all saw my 40 axe-handle butt shining with more lumens than a full moon reflected in an amusement park Hall of Mirrors!
You can see where this is going, can’t ya?
I was a mosquito posse’s dream come true served up on a smorgasbord! It was truly a sight to behold: A Gen-U-ine Kodak moment! I swear that I heard cackling a split second before everything converged at once. My neighbor got a free shot (Or so he thought) of a fat, drunk, naked middle aged lady who spilled her wine while flailing her arms around, waving at him!
I bet that was a little bit too much information! But on the flip side, I’m a crone and I can appreciate the warped sense of Her dark humor served up with a liberal dose of Justice and Common Sense!
The seductive song of a warm summer’s night was disturbed by the unexpected appearance of a fool! There’s a reason why I am a solitary. May your mind be seared by the shocking sight of a Crone moments before her just desserts are served in Spades! I’m no Barbie Doll, honey…this is the real stuff at 54-gravity served up on steroids!
Well that poor kid must have thought that his eyes and brain just sucked a big one on the un-sweetened Lemon of Truth because the ensuing retreat was felt on the local Richter scale.
And what desserts are those, ya almost forgot to ask?
Never think that you can get away with just a toast. Share or She’ll take it all! And if you toast Her, come with just a little wisdom and be prepared to use some common sense. Burn the incense of citronella or ‘Off ‘coils.
(Friends and neighbors, please call first. That’s the polite thing to do!)
And to the fool drinking the beer: Keep your mouth shut! Never again wince and look at your bottle and say, ”That’s going to leave a mark!” to the retreating form of your neighbor’s back.
In the blink of an eye that song of that summer night was drowned out and replaced by the high pitched whine of the incoming going to Glory! The mosquitoes were everywhere! I quickly started flailing about inside the midst of that cloud, stepped in the gopher hole in the process, and flung my last glass of wine out to the grass.
I left three-quarters of the cloud of mosquitoes there to deal with Mr. Naked Big-Mouth while I hastily retreated to spray myself with ‘Off’. The other quarter of them followed me into the house where they fed on his sorry carcass for the rest of the night because he refused to spray himself down!
So what marks is your sorry butt referring to now? The ones left in the mind of our neighbor, or the ones on your backside? Or on mine. Even my hills and valleys now have hills and valleys. (And have you folks ever sprayed yourself with Off after scratching yourself? There’s a real in-the-now reminder! Humph!)
I still swear I hear Her cackling and snapping Her fingers saying, “ YES! The Goddess is in the house!”
Peace and Blessings, Honey!
Feng Shui Tip of the Day for October 25th
Once upon a time a Feng Shui master taught me some ‘secret’ Shui that promised health, happiness and prosperity, as well as increased exposure, recognition and reward! Of course, many of the Feng Shui cures that I know promise to activate those same blessings and boons, but this particular adjustment is applicable only in the month of October. This somewhat secret Shui promises to potentially rocket your reputation to the stars and bring you as many personally and professionally rewards as there are bright and shiny orbs in the sky. The key is to place a yellow chrysanthemum in the Fame area during any day this month. I have since learned that the mum can be put into especially prime positioning anytime between the ninth and the fifteenth, and it has special powerful application on the latter date. I have always ascribed that putting those pale petals into the Fame arena at any time will bring recognition and rewards, but October energies support that intention in a big way. Just remember, this is considered to be ‘secret’ Shui, so mum’s the word!
By Ellen Whitehurst for Astrology.com
Your Daily Number for October 25th: 2
Sensitivity and a feeling of self-consciousness pervade the day. Stress levels may be high due to deadlines and commitments; if possible, take some time off to relax and focus on your personal life, as romance is highly favorable.
About the Number 2
Theme: Adaptable, Tactful, Gentle, Cautious
Astro Association: Moon
Tarot Association: High Priestess
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