Good morning, my dearest of friends! How are you today? Me, fantastic!!! I did some astral projecting last night. It was great. I went back to a very happy time in my life. Then I came back, I relaxed and fell asleep in the floor. Then this morning at 6:00 a.m., my son ran in the bedroom. He proceeded to hit me on the foot with a magazine, hollering, “Get up! Get up!” He then ran like hell. He woke up Kiki and she flew off the bed trying to eat him up. He came back and told me, “my damn dog bite him!” I told him not to worry she had all her shots, lol! Then he turns around and goes back to bed. I thought what the heck? So I went down to his bedroom, and told him to get his butt up! He had to get up and go do something at a boarding kennel he works at. The kid has three jobs. But his point of getting me up was something I said yesterday. For supper, I unthawed some pulled pork I had made and we had sandwiches. I told him I had slept to late to put a roast in the crock pot and let it cook. So he got me up this morning were I would have time to fix that roast. I thought you little poop!
Funny thing, Razzy remembers my son from the dog attack. I went down to his room last night while he ate. There was clothes drug out of plastic garbage bags all over the place. I asked him, if he was looking for something. He said no he figured that one of my cats had been playing. While we are sitting in there, here come Razzy. She is crouched down on the ground, sneaking in the door. The next thing, she has one of his shirt and is off and running. I laughed my rump off. My son chased her till he finally got his shirt. His dear sweet wife packed up all his stuff in garbage sacks and sit them on the porch for him. I haven’t said anything about this to anyone but she is trying to paint him as the villain. He might be my son but he isn’t a villain at all. His wife is two months pregnant and come to find out she has been having an affair. She would take their two kids to her grandmother’s and then she would be off to meet her man. It gets me, my son working three jobs. He has a brand new house, two new cars, he has given her anything she wants. Then she does him like this. I told my son, very gently, that he might want to consider having a DNA test on this third child. He agreed with me.
My son has changed so much since he has come back out here. It is expected that when he comes home from work that we sit and talk. He said talking to me clears his head. He also apologized for the way he has treated me the last seven years. He told me I was right all along. Between my two children, my son was the one most interested in magick. I asked him last night if he has a moment would he like to help me in operating the Ouija Board. He told me, I was crazy. Then I reminded him what a time we use to have. He then said, yes if he had the time he would like to help me. Then he wanted to know if I still had those Tarot Cards he had gotten me one Christmas. I told him, he was crazy if he thought I would ever throw them away. He told me, he wanted a reading. After last night, my hopes are I am getting my son back. But with children and one on the way, who knows what might happen.
My son told me that her family had run me down and talked about like I was a dog. He told me that he had gotten the point to where he wanted nothing to do with me. Especially since they had started going to church. Then listening to her grandmother yell, “Suffer not a witch to live!” I quietly told him, I knew what was going on. He started crying and saying how sorry he was. Then he asked me, how he could have turned so against me? I told him I didn’t know. Perhaps these past seven years were something he was supposed to experience. Perhaps he just married the little *&$@^ just to spite me. Who knows? All that matters is that you knew no matter what, you could always come home. You knew this was your safe haven. The Goddess’ Love brought him home. Her Love & Grace will open his eyes finally. As for me, I am going to serve them a dish best served cold! Not only for myself but also my son.