Dancing Barefoot

2011-12-06T12:19:00.000-08:00

So obviously I suck at countdowns. And apparently I need to add one of those Blogging Without Obligation buttons to my sidebar, because I've clearly failed in any kind of blogging obligation I might have had.

The good news is, I'm alive. In fact, I've been alive this entire time! I'm not going to go about giving excuses for my absence, because in truth I don't really have one. I just didn't feel like blogging, so I didn't.

But now I do.

In other news, today's my birthday and I have important things to do. Mostly just knitting, slothing, and interneting, but important things nonetheless. Talk soon!

All posts, images, and content are © Dancing Barefoot unless stated otherwise. All rights reserved.
No content may be copied, reproduced, or used without the express written permission of the author.

All Hallow's Grim Blog Party

2011-10-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

Magaly, the Wickedest Darling of them all, is hosting Pagan Culture's 1st Annual All Hallow's Grim Blog Party, along with a fabulous giveaway! (Incidently, she is also hosting another giveaway, Outside the Bones by Lyn Di Iorio. Generous, or what? Check them both out!) Magaly is a writer who embraces the dark side of fiction, so in the spirit of the party I have delved into the dark recesses of my own disturbed mind to produce a short story fitting for the occasion.

So without further ado, I present to you...
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The Dreamer May Die

...but Never Dies the Dream

You look around your room, lay your head on your pillow, and let the darkness embrace you. You fall into a cold and terrifying sleep, but are unable to wake, finding yourself shackled to the blackness of your unconscious mind.

And so you dream.

And in this dream you are in a large cavern, illuminated only by a gently pulsating glow from the depths of a chasm nearby. The walls are rock and ensanguined; the ceiling disappears into the darkness above. The dim light reveals spatters of rust-coloured dirt – blood-coloured dirt – decorating the jagged rock floor, and one by one, the hairs on the back of your neck rise and prickle the nerves along your spine. You walk towards the chasm and peer over the edge, searching for a bridge, a path, a means of escape – but what you find instead makes your body quiver: a bottomless hole, radiating with burning light, corroding your dark-adjusted eyes with its sheer, caustic brilliance.

A soft and cautiously-placed footstep distracts you and your thoughts, and you turn your head ever so slightly to accommodate this new sound.

A man, unaware of your presence, steps out onto a beam you hadn't noticed. A whimper is heard, and a curious, crackling noise, and you see the man delicately lift his back foot and place it forward. As he shifts his weight, a cry echoes through the darkness, and the noise – louder, more pronounced this time – hisses over the reverberating sound emanating from the pit below.

The man screams, and his step falters. You watch in horror as he tumbles off the beam, and for a brief moment, your eyes meet. His anguish and pure, raw fear slash madly at you over the distance, accusing you of life while his own is forfeit.

And then he is gone, his terror echoing off the walls and gradually fading into the dark.

You step back, then walk towards the place where the man had fallen only moments before. As you approach, you realize that the beam is not as benign as it first appeared, but is instead a shimmering bar of superheated steel that stretches the entire width of your prison.

The air is heavy with the stink of burnt flesh. The exit beckons you from the other side, and you realize that you, like the man before you, have no choice but to cross. Bracing yourself, you cautiously place your right foot on the red-hot metal and press down with the full of your weight.

Each step is agony.

The pain sears from the heel of your foot to the ball, decimating the soft, tender tissue between. Blisters burst as they form, spouting streams of plasma that crackle before disappearing in tiny wisps of steam, leaving behind scattered, fragile trails of biological residue. The traces left behind – the only evidence of your passing – mingle and intertwine with those of previous travelers. Heat waves dance and shimmer before you, taunting you with their silky movement, and your nostrils fill with the smell of your own flesh: the sizzling, sickening stench of scorched skin, fat, and bone. The hissing and popping crescendos over your screams as you place your left foot down, down on the fiery forge and into the blinding white torrent of pain. Tendons react and contract in the heat, causing your toes to curl and exposing their soft, unmarred skin to the vicious steel. Nerve endings rupture as muscles spasm and erupt, threatening your balance, your very survival.

You must not falter.

You must not fail.

You shift your weight and whimper, tugging at your back foot. The charred flesh of your sole has fused with the metal, forcing you to tear the surviving tissue as you move desperately forward. Each step, each precarious placement, fills your ears anew with the spitting and hissing of fresh skin,

sealing,

searing,

settling your fate into the depths of the unforgiving steel.

You shudder, then lift your back foot gingerly to take the next purgatorial step...

All posts, images, and content are © Dancing Barefoot unless stated otherwise. All rights reserved.
No content may be copied, reproduced, or used without the express written permission of the author.

Countdown to Halloween: Oct. 8-11

2011-10-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

My computer ate my camera's memory card, which makes me grumpy. I had some fabulous photos of The Boy, Husband, and me at the pumpkin patch this weekend, but they are lost. However, I did manage to rescue a picture of our pumpkins sitting on our front steps, and pictures of the wreaths we made. (I was in the process of transferring the pictures from card to computer when the latter got hungry.) I also lost the pictures of that awesome tree I talked about in this post, along with pictures of some pretty dahlias from my garden.

So! Saturday night we feasted at my parents' for Thanksgiving, which isn't Halloweeny but is definitely autumny (at least for us Canadians).

Sunday was the pumpkin patch and another Thanksgiving dinner. Pumpkins:

Monday we made wreaths:

Husband and Boy made this one, hanging on the front door

I made this one for the living room

Today it rained. It rained on the weekend as well, but that has nothing to do with what I'm about to tell you. Remember the pumpkin fields I was going on about a few days ago (the same place where we got our pumpkins)? Well on the drive home from work today, there was a beautiful rainbow framing the fields and the barn. I would've taken a picture, but if you recall my earlier complaining, my camera's memory card doesn't work any more so instead I will provide you with ~~an artist's~~ my rendition of the scene:

Dramatization.

It was simply gorgeous, as you can no doubt see.

So that's it, just a quick update for you. I need to finish writing my story for the All Hallow's Grim Blog Party, which will be posted on the 13th!

Snickerdoodles!

2011-10-10T17:24:00.000-07:00

If you've never had a snickerdoodle, you're missing out on some serious cookie goodness. Bonus points: They're easy!

1/2 cup butter or margarine
1 cup sugar
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
1 egg
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
2 tbsps sugar
1 tsp cinnamon

Beat the butter with an electric mixer until it's all..well, beaten up. Mix in the sugar, baking soda, and cream of tartar. Beat in the egg and vanilla, then add the flour.

Voila, you have your dough. Because you've just beaten the crap out of it, it will look all crumbly and not very dough-like at all, like this (except you'll have about twice as much because it didn't occur to me to take pictures until half the cookies were already in the oven):

Cover the dough and chill in the fridge for about an hour or so.

Mix the 2 tablespoons of sugar and the cinnamon in a small bowl. When your crumbly dough has been chilled, shape it in to small, cookie-sized balls, then roll them around in the sugar/cinnamon mixture until they're nicely covered.

Put them about an inch or so apart on an ungreased cookie sheet, and bake in a 375 F oven for 10-12 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

This is supposed to make about 36 cookies, but apparently I either a) make really big cookies, or b) eat way more dough than I think I do, because I always end up with around 20.

Countdown to Halloween: Oct. 1-8

2011-10-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

Sooo..this past week I was kind of in a funk and didn't really feel like doing much that involved the computer. Being incredibly busy at work and having to work overtime nearly every day hasn't helped much. And while I haven't done anything big and spectacular for the countdown this week, I have been doing little things every day!

Most of my little things involve collecting various crafty items that can be used in..well, crafts. I picked up a couple of grapevine wreaths one day, a bunch of cute, fabric, autumny leaves another day, and some paper mache (it just occurred to me that I have no idea how to spell that) apples and fruits on yet another day. The idea will be to herd the Boy and Husband to the table sometime this weekend (and it's Thanksgiving, so it's a long weekend) and convince them that we are about to partake in an incredibly fun and valuable bit of quality family time, then glue the leaves and fruits to the wreaths and make pretty things before they realize that they are actually participating in a craft. Which I know isn't at all original, but whatever.

Last night, a friend on Facebook posted a poor-quality cell phone picture of an amazing tree, and I am bound and determined to hunt down this tree today and take a picture of it with a real camera. It's a huge maple, and all of the leaves are still very green, except for this one small patch of phenomenally bright red leaves. Seriously, they're so bright and in such contrast to the green leaves that they look fake, and in fact I thought they were. There is absolutely no yellow-orange transition between the green and red, it's all just greengreengreengreenBRIGHTFREAKINREDgreengreengreengreen. I will find it and show you, and your mind will boggle.

I've also been oggling the pumpkin fields that I drive by every day on my way home from work. (Actually, I drive by them on the way to work as well, but apparently I'm still asleep when I do because I can't remember even seeing them in the morning, nevermind oggling them. I should probably consider waking up before I drive.) There's nothing like watching an entire field turn bright orange day by day.

And I think that's it, aside from watching witchy movies almost every night. Oh, and season 4 of Merlin has finally started, so I watched that too. Very fitting for this time of year - they're celebrating Samhain, and Morgana has gone and torn the veil between worlds. If you're looking for a good TV series that's not particularly deep but entertaining nonetheless, I'd suggest this one. It's a family-orientated fantasy show (and not historical fiction, so don't expect everything to be 100% accurate), and I love it. The Boy and I are both addicted.

So there you have it. My first week of the countdown has involved crafty things, pumpkin fields, and TV/movies. Oh, and I decorated my office with Halloweeny things, including a supercute "The Witch is IN/OUT" sign (where you flip over the in/out depending on whether you're in or out!) and a pair of bloody handprints (gel-clings) on my window. Awesome.

Mom's a Witch! (well, almost)

2011-10-07T15:15:00.000-07:00

The Boy brought up his beliefs at the dinner table the other night. Husband is out of town, so it was just him and me. I don't mind talking to him about religion and his beliefs - in fact, I rather enjoy it, and I always use the opportunity to remind him that he can believe in whatever he wants, no matter what anybody else says, and that other people can believe in whatever they want, and just because it's different than what he believes doesn't mean it's wrong.

The thing is though, I'm not overly comfortable talking to him about my beliefs. Not because I'm ashamed of them, but because I really really don't want to influence him at this stage in his life. He's still young. He's very impressionable and is always seeking approval, and I'm worried that he'll want to do something or be a part of something just because Mom is. And it's not that I don't want him to be a part of it, I just firmly believe that people should find their own paths, and should not be steered in any one direction. While my intentions would certainly not be to steer him or influence him, I think it would be unavoidable given his insatiable desire to be Just.Like. the people he loves. But I want him to be Just.Like. him. Does that make sense? So the only aspect of my personal beliefs that he's been aware of up to now has been that I don't believe in a god.
Read more »

Giveaway Winner!

2011-10-01T22:08:00.000-07:00

I used a Random Number Generator to pick.

And the winner is...

Elle from the Witchy State of Mind blog!

See?

Congratulations Elle, and thanks to everyone who entered! There will be more giveaways in the future, I promise!

Halloween Giveaway - Two Days Left!

2011-09-29T21:10:00.000-07:00

What the title says! The winner will be chosen on October 1st, sometime in the evening, Pacific time (I'm not organized enough to give you a specific time).

Oh and also, I know I said I would post better pictures, but apparently I'm incapable of taking better pictures, so I gave up and bought a large box of Halloween chocolate bars instead.

Halloween Giveaway!

2011-09-22T11:34:00.000-07:00

My first giveaway! It's pretty last minute and I apologize for that, but I'm really good at leaving things as late as possible so I think this is an accurate reflection of my personality. Can't have me pretending to be someone I'm not, right?

So here's the goods. They're not spectacular, awe-inspiring, ZOMGSOORIGNAL handcrafted objects, but so what? They're free! The winner gets to choose which one they want.

1. The famous sign! It actually does hang, but it's hard to see the hangy bit in the picture.

Or:

2. Two martini glasses! The glass looks black for the most part, but when the light hits them they're actually a really pretty, dark, aubergine colour. The spiders and webs are silvery, and there's little faux diamonds at the end of each spider leg.

I will take better pictures tonight, because both of these kinda suck.

How to Enter:

Super easy. Comment here and tell me which one you like best.

If you want a few extra entries, you can one (or more) do the following:

1. Follow this blog
2. "Like" my Facebook page
3. Post a link to this giveaway on your own blog/Twitter/Facebook/whatever

Be sure to leave a separate comment for each one you decide to do, and remember to give me some way of contacting you (email, blog link, etc.). You know the routine. The winner will be announced on October 1st.

You have eight days. Go.

Mabon - Gluten/Sugar/Soy-Free Vegan Pumpkin Muffins

2011-09-21T21:24:00.000-07:00

Another recipe for the Mabon blog hop! I just can't get enough pumpkin at this time of year. I found this recipe when I was on a 6-week elimination diet to determine whether food sensitivities were contributing to my RA. It was the most restrictive and horrible diet ever, but thankfully I discovered this gluten-free recipe and was able to modify it so that it was also sugar-free, soy-free, dairy-free, and egg-free, which meant that they were one of the few things I could actually have.

In other words, I mostly ate muffins for six weeks.

So after reading what isn't in these muffins, you're probably wondering what is in them. Answer: an assortment of interesting ingredients, most of which I'd never heard of before.

Gluten/Sugar/Soy/Dairy/Egg-free (and therefore Vegan) Pumpkin Muffins

1/2 cup garbanzo bean flour
1/2 cup tapioca flour
1/2 cup brown rice flour
3 tbsp flaxseed meal
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp nutmeg
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp natural sea salt
1 cup pumpkin
(just under)* 1/2 cup light-flavoured olive oil
2/3 cup applesauce
2/3 cup agave syrup
Raisins (optional)

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* When substituting agave syrup for sugar, you need to take into account the total amount of liquid going into the recipe and adjust accordingly. For each 2/3 cup of agave, you need to reduce the total liquid by 1/4 - 1/3 cup. The original recipe calls for 1/2 cup oil, so if you put in 1-2 tbsp less oil, you should be okay. You also need to reduce the heat by about 25 degrees, but I've already done that for you in this recipe.

Clear as mud, right?
------------------------

Preheat over to 325 F.

Mix the dry ingredients and wet ingredients thoroughly in separate bowls.

Combine the two, stirring until just mixed. Add enough raisins to make you happy (1/2 cup, maybe more? You be the judge). Now if you're a bit of a batter connoisseur like I am, I will give you this little bit of advice: this batter does not taste good. Not even a little bit.

Pour batter into greased or papered muffin tin (reminder: don't use butter to grease, because that would mean it's not dairy-free and therefore not vegan. Use olive oil). Bake for 24-30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean.

Allow to cool for five minutes or so in the tin, then remove muffins and place on a wire rack.

Yes, there is a weird number of muffins here.
I don't know why this happens.

That's it, you're done. Time to pig out without feeling guilty!

Mabon Recipe - Pumpkin Pie

2011-09-20T21:57:00.000-07:00

Iknowiknowiknow, pumpkin pie is usually an October thing, but when Angela at The Pagan Mom Blog announced her blog hop, I knew right away what recipe I'd be submitting.

We're huge pumpkin pie fans in this house. The moment those leaves start to change colour I begin to salivate, because I know damn well that someone is going to ask for a pumpkin pie in short order and I'm always happy to oblige, providing I get a nice, healthy share of the goods. I will happily make 1, 2, 3 pies a week, and they always get eaten, usually with an abundance of whipped cream and satisfied grunts. We do like our pie.

So here's my go to recipe, from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook:

Single Crust Pie Pastry:

1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup shortening
1/4 tsp. salt

Combine salt and flour. Mix in shortening until the pieces are pea-sized. Add cold water (I use water that's been in the fridge) a little at a time until dough is moistened. I don't measure it, but it's probably around 5-6 tablespoons or so. Too much water will make your dough sticky and you'll curse a blue streak trying to roll it out, whereas too little water will make it crumbly and fally-aparty (technical term), which will also result in a cacophony of profanities. Or at least it does in my house.

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Public Service Announcement: Never try to make pie pastry with strictly rice flour. I'm sure there are blends out there that might work, but pure rice flour is just not the way to enlightenment. Ask me how I know. As far as I'm concerned, its only conceivable purpose is to sit on the shelf and make my pantry look sophisticated.
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Once your dough is appropriately doughy, form it into a ball, then roll it out on a floured surface and transfer it to your pie plate. The best way to transfer it is to roll it up over the rolling pin, then unroll it over the plate. Actually, I don't think there's any other way. Just roll it up over the rolling pin and be done with it. Try to work your dough as little as possible, because overworked dough is tough and gross and makes babies cry.

I may or may not have gotten carried away with the flour-sprinkling.

Now that your dough is on the plate, you can trim the edges and fold them under. Crimp them and make them pretty if you want. I couldn't be bothered.

Pumpkin Pie:

2 cups pumpkin (1 16 ounce can)
2/3 cup sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
3 slightly beaten eggs
2/3 cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 375 F.

Now you can go out and find a pumpkin and do all the hard work yourself, or if you're like me, you're lazy and will just go buy a can of pumpkin. Don't judge. If you do go the can route though, make sure you check the ingredients because some companies like to add unnecessary things like sugar and preservatives and occasionally botchulism. When you find one that just says "pumpkin", you're good to go.

Combine pumpkin, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg. I ran out of ginger, so I just used pumpkin pie spice. And because I like my pie spicy, I used 3 teaspoons of the stuff, although I could probably use more. Anywhere between 1 1/2 tsp and say, 4 should work fine, but go ahead and use more if you're a fiend. Full disclosure: I haven't tried using 4 teaspoons, so I will not be held liable for the results should they be disasterous. However, if they're fantastic I will take full credit.

Add eggs. Beat with a fork until just combined. Slowly stir in evaporated milk and milk. Mix well.

Pour the mixture into your pie plate. Yes, it's supposed to be that liquidy. Don't panic.

It's actually kind of hard to pour and take a picture at the same time.
I deserve a cookie, or at the very least, a badge that says I'm awesome.

To prevent your crust from overbrowning, wrap tin foil around it. I take a square of foil, fold it in half, and cut out a half moon shape. When I open it, I have a (somewhat deformed and lopsided) circle. Magic!

Carefully put your tin foil-covered ~~hat~~ pie into the oven. Don't slosh the pumpkiny goodness. Bake for 25 minutes, then remove the tin foil (filling will still be liquidy!). Bake for another 25 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center of the pie comes out clean.

Cool on a wire rack. Store (covered) in the fridge. Consume with wild abandon and no regrets.

Whipped Cream:

I trust we can all make whipped cream, but I will tell you how I do it because this is my blog and I can if I want to. I sweeten the whipped cream to taste, then add a teaspoon or so of vanilla. It really makes all the difference, I promise. Try it.

PS - Stay tuned for my first giveaway!

The Air is Alive

2011-09-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

I love my walk to work in the morning (actually I don't really, because I'm lazy, but I can't park any closer so the walk is a must, and I'm constantly trying to find things to make it worthwhile). I love the smells, especially at this time of year, when the air is crisp and everything seems magnified.

There's always those stationary, reliable smells that come from the various shops and businesses, the ones that are there every morning. The first one I encounter is, not surprisingly, coffee. It comes from a cute little Mom 'n Pop coffee shop, and occasionally there's a tinge of almond, hazelnut, or vanilla to it. My city is full of gardens, and sometimes there's the smell of cut grass, and wet dirt if the sprinklers have been on. Next it's the sweet, spicy smell of cinnamon buns from wafting across the parking lot from a bakery. As I get closer to the far boundaries of that smell, the scent of flowers begins to intermingle with it before overpowering it entirely. This is the market, where they display their fresh flowers on stands outside on the sidewalk. This morning it was the intoxicating scent of lilies (my favourite). There are also tables and chairs outside, so with the lovely smell of flowers comes the pungent smell of cigarette smoke. Depending on the day, they might have a delivery truck parked in the lot, carrying fresh bread, or meat, or fish, the smell of which is always faintly tainted by exhaust fumes from the truck itself.

After the market, it's the heavier, slightly burnt smell of Starbucks coffee. Then I will usually get a strong but fleeting whiff of urine, presumably from one of the doorways, but that is quickly overrun by the delicious smell of morning sausages from the German restaurant. After that, there's the sickly sweet, moldy smell of the bottle depot, again combined with urine. A strong, harsh chemical smell comes follows as I walk past a long, concrete wall that is favoured by vandals. It seems the property owners are constantly covering their messages, and the smell of paint is relentless.

I cross the street and pass a little cafe, where bacon is usually cooking and toast toasting. More urine, then a metallic-smelling gate that blocks off a courtyard full of flowers. Now on to another coffee shop and a delightfully strong-smelling Turkish deli. The spiced meat gives way to the musty smell of used books and burnt incense, followed by the dust of an old rug shop.

I cross another street, a busier one filled with exhaust, and am affronted by a second Starbucks, along with the smell of cigarettes and an unwashed body emanating from the man that begs for change out front. Another busy intersection, and the warm, homey smell of bread from another bakery. A small, greasy spoon diner. The library and a string of newspaper boxes, smelling of ink and grime and recycled paper. A parking garage of exhaust and cold concrete, a Mexican restaurant and another coffee shop, and finally, my building.

And those are just the stationary smells. The transient smells are so much more interesting, because they are never the same. They surprise you and tantalize you as you walk by. Transient smells are usually, but not always, associated with people, and being downtown, there are a lot of people. The smell of freshly-laundered clothes, still-wet hair and the lingering scent of shampoo. The alcohol smell of hairspray, and minty clean toothpaste. Perfume on the women.

But my favourite is the men. When a man walks by, I secretly inhale. The smell of freshly-shaven skin, aftershave, cologne - strong and overpowering on young men, subtle and expertly applied on the older men. Hair product sometimes, starched collars of the businessmen. Animal smell of leather jackets and briefcases, perhaps even a lingering smell of a woman - a wife, maybe - as she kissed her man on his way out the door. And always the pheromones, that sweet, intoxicating scent of man that belies our animal roots.

It's all so delicious.

Athena and the Witnesses

2011-09-19T20:05:00.000-07:00

Two Jehovah's Witnesses came to the house today. I'm usually not home during the day so I have no idea whether this is a regular occurrance or not, but they came and I answered the door.

That was my first mistake. My second mistake was not closing the door when I realized why they were there: they wanted my soul.

Okay, I don't actually know if they were there for my soul or not. It's not like they came out and asked for it. They did, however, start talking about the bible and the Creator and how everything beautiful is because of him, etc., etc. Then they questioned me about my beliefs, which is where I become uncomfortable because first of all, it's none of their business, and second, I certainly don't like talking about my beliefs with random strangers that come knocking on my door, especially when their purpose is to try and convert me to their beliefs, or at the very least get me to listen to a bunch of drivel that I have absolutely no use for and quite frankly, makes me angry.

But I won't get into that. The point is, I really don't like being forced to be impolite, but they just would not leave. I finally had to cut the lady off mid-sentence and reiterate (louder this time) that I Was Not Interested and close the door in their faces. As they were leaving, the man shouted to me that religion was very important and that even that sign on my wall was religious (and it is. It's a large Aztec Sun).

And then I spent the rest of the day feeling like a jerk for being rude, which in itself pisses me off. I hate that people can make me feel that way when I'm in my own home, minding my own business, and all I want is to be left alone.

SO IN OTHER NEWS...

I bought a budgie!

I'm not sure why, exactly, I felt like I needed a budgie, but I did and I do and now I have one. Her name's Athena. She's not tame yet, but she's settling in to her new home and I've started putting my hand in her cage and whatnot. She ate millet out of my hand today, so I'm feeling pretty confident about getting her tamed eventually. Mind you, I've never tamed a bird before so the jury's out on whether or not I'll be any good at it. She's beautiful though, and it will be a fun journey nonetheless.

Harvest Moon Ritual

2011-09-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

Quick note before I go ahead with my post: Magaly over at Pagan Culture is hosting a blog party! I'm so in. It'll be the first one I've participated in, and I think I'm going to write a story for it. Exciting! Check it out! (Button on sidebar)

And now back to your regularly scheduled blogging:

I did my harvest moon ritual last night instead of tonight. I'm not sure why, but I did. I thought about it today and managed to use my time zone as justification. In my time zone, the moon became full at something like 2:26am today, so doing it last night makes perfect sense. But of course, the intricacies of time and my unfailing ability to justify damn near anything after the fact are not what this post is about. This post is about my altar.

Apparently I am quite shy about posting pictures of my altar, because I've been wavering back and forth on it all night. I don't know why. It's silly. Maybe I'm scared somebody's going to be all "UR DOIN IT WRNG!!1!", but then I could just be all "Pfft mofo, YOU'RE doing it wrong!" because I wouldn't be able to bring myself to type in text speak, and that would mean I win by default. Tangent stops here.

I bought an altar cloth today. I've never had one, because I haven't been able to find one that appeals to me, even just a little bit. Actually, the one I bought today is not an altar cloth at all, but rather a really wide scarf that I discovered by chance in Sears. I've just folded it up to make it work for my purposes, and work it does. I think I will continue to use scarves as seasonal altar cloths. So without further ado:

Rich, autumny colours with a subtle pattern, and a thin line of silver separating them. Bonus points for being 25% off. I love it. I absolutely adore the colours of fall; the oranges and reds, faded greens and bright, sunny yellows. They're so warm and cozy, I swear the colours themselves help fend off the brisk chill of the air. Autumn colours are also what look best on me, which means I feel my best when they're on me, so that likely has something to do with it, too.

And now my altar! I decorated it with autumn stuff, which was fun. My table is really small though, and it feels crowded. But I'm the type of person that will fill up any space with as many trinkets as possible, so whatever.

I finally found a pentacle tile last week, after looking for one for months. Granted, I've seen a few pentacles in the local shops, but none even remotely resembled what I was looking for. So this one - simple, carved from soapstone - is a perfect fit. It has holes for incense sticks, but I don't think I'll ever use them. Another thing I don't have is an athame. I don't mind so much though, because I don't feel like I really need one. If I've cast a circle (which I don't do all the time, either), I will use the bear claw to open it, but that's about it. I'm happy with my claw. I also don't use the wand I made, but it sits underneath the table anyway in case I feel like I should.

Aaand that's pretty much it. Goodnight!

Love Thy Neighbour

2011-09-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

Today the blogosphere is posting about 9/11, but I'm going to post about something different. I'm going to post about my neighbours.

The house we live in is the same house that I grew up in. My family moved into this house when I was in kindergarten, and our neighbours built their house a few years later. I moved away for ten years after I graduated, and my parents built another, smaller home that they moved into a few years ago. But now I live here again, with my own family.

Our neighbours are elderly, and have always been a very nice couple. They've known me since I was a little girl. About five years ago, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and he has been caring for her at home ever since. They've hired nurses, and they currently have one living with them, but she won't have anything to do with them so he still has to do a lot of her care himself. Their family lives in Ontario and is unable to provide much assistance, although I'm not trying to paint a bad picture of them.  Her illness has turned a once-kind and loving woman into an argumentative, mean, and utterly foreign personality, and from what he has told us both today and in the past, it seems she's alienated their children and have forced them to distance themselves for their own wellbeing. Unforunately though, in the process of distancing themselves from their mother, they have also distanced themselves from their father. It was unavoidable.

This past week he finally called an ambulance, and they came to pick her up. She's at the point where she's soiling herself and refusing to shower, so she's now staying at the hospital, waiting for the doctors' evaluation before they decide whether or not she can go home. She wants to come home. He goes to visit her every day, but each time he does she gets upset because she wants to leave with him, and he won't bring her home until the doctors complete their evaluation. She begs and pleads with him, and then turns nasty and calls him names.

Obviously, it's very hard on him.

Husband and I went over to their house to visit with him today, and out came the photo albums and stories of days gone by. He spoke of his beautiful wife, how her ugly disease has progressed, and how he never thought 65 years of marriage would end like this. He talked of his children, and how they've been pushed away by this horrible illness and the empty shell of their mother.  The man is just so lonely; you can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes.

And I tell you, there is nothing more heartbreaking than seeing an old man cry.

I want to adopt him. I want to bundle him up and feed him apple pie and make it all okay, but of course I cannot.  Husband is out of town during the week until November, but I've given our neighbour my phone number in case he needs anything. He will never call, I know that, because he doesn't want to bother anybody and is the type of man who would feel silly inviting someone over just for the company. So I will try to visit him, hopefully twice, maybe three times a week if I can, and bring him baked goodies and listen to his stories and look at the pictures of his life. I should've been doing this all along, because of course I've known of his suffering for years, but I've been too wrapped up in my own life and have been ignoring the trials of those around me.

And you know what? My cat is over there all the time. She's been visiting them for months and months, every day, and they adore her.  I often see my kitty over there, sunning her fat ass on their balcony, looking for all the world like the Queen of Sheba reincarnated.  Our neighbour doesn't remember her own children, but she's never forgotten my cat (although she has forgotten who the cat belongs to).

My cat has been more compassionate than I have.

Then I think of my own grandparents, who live only five minutes away, and yet I don't visit them nearly as often as I should. Thankfully, neither one of them have Alzheimer's, but my dear Poppa has a plethora of other health issues to contend with and both of them are getting on in years. I mean to go visit, but something always comes up and I don't. I've even toyed with the idea of sitting down and recording all of Poppa's stories and turning them into a book at some point, but I've never gotten around to doing it. I must start soon, before it's too late.

For millennia, elders have been a cherished, respected, and valued part of their societies - so why is it that they are so often forgotten in ours? How can all that knowledge and experience and life be so invisible to so many of us? And why is it that an entire society - civilization, even - can turn their focus and their compassion and their love towards people and events that happen so far, far away, but they cannot tend to the suffering and sorrow that occurs in their own backyard?

This, dear readers, has been a sad, sad day.

Andrea and Meditation: Take I

2011-09-08T15:03:00.000-07:00

Most of the books I've read about Paganism or witchcraft mention meditation and/or visualization somewhere along the line. In fact, meditation and visualization seem to be a big part of a lot of things Pagan, and I have no problem with that. The only this is, I don't know how to meditate. I can visualize, I suppose, but I'm not very good at it and it takes a ton of concentration and I'm easily distracted. A typical bout of meditation/visualization usually goes something like this:

"Picture a bright, white light eminating from your core. Picture it as a tree, its roots reaching down to connect with the Earth, its - My toe is itchy - reaching high into the sky, spreading its leaves and - I wonder how worms make their tunnels underground - unbroken stream of light, connecting the Sky, the Earth, and your body - I mean, how do they dig? Where do they put the extra dirt? - so they are all one with each - damned toe - feel the energy from deep within the Earth travelling up the stream - ♫♪doo bee doo bee dooOoOOo♪♫ - until it flows over your - Can birds really--No. Focus, Andrea - peace and calm surrounds you and - Dear Toe: Bugger off already. I'm meditating - sounds of the birds as - Also, wtf's up with the cat? Puking all over the - trees make a beautiful canopy overhead - leaving it for me to step in - wind rustling through the - cold and disgusting ARGHH STUPID TOE!!"

Needless to say, it's not very relaxing. The books always give you all sorts of helpful advice and walk you through it step by step, which is nice and all, but seriously? Who the heck can read step-by-step instructions and meditate at the same time?

So I bought a meditation CD. I can't remember the guy's name, but the meditations (there's two of them) have to do with spirit animals and guides and such. I figured I'd give it a go.

It all went okay for the first meditation. I was laying down for it in the hopes of minimizing my fidgeting, but of course I still found it difficult to fully concentrate (see above). I did manage to stay on track for most of it though, which I'm happy about. I imagine it will only get better with practice, and eventually I'll be able to do it without a CD.

Anyway, after it sets you all up in a forest with a clearing and a campfire and whatnot, it tells you to visualize an animal. You're not supposed to consciously choose an animal - whichever one shows up is the one that you're supposed to derive some kind of meaning from (or not). I wasn't expecting a "message" or anything profound, because at this point, I'm just following instructions and trying to learn how to meditate. I can save the messages and deep spiritual stuff for later, when I hopefully have a better idea of what I'm doing. So I visualized an animal, and there it was. Then you're supposed to go over and interact with it, but I didn't really know what I was supposed to do, exactly, so I just hugged it because apparently that's my default Interacting With Spirit Animal action.

Go ahead and laugh, but I'll tell you this: as soon as I hugged it, my brain went "GREEN WITCH". It actually startled me, and I almost lost my concentration. It was like Microsoft Word ran amok in my head and typed it out in bold, 72pt Times New Roman font, then plastered it right in front of my eyeballs. The word "green" was, of course, green, with a dab of purple and a touch of red, and "witch" was orange with a dash of yellow (synesthesia, anyone?). But I digress.

My point is...well, I don't really have a point, aside from "That happened." It could very well be that my mind just spazzed and produced a random distraction (as it is wont to do), but I'm going to dig around and try to research green witchcraft a bit more. Obviously I've come across it in my books and online, but I haven't looked into it specifically. Anyone know of any good resources that could help get me started?

So moving on to the second meditation. I was feeling pretty good about the first one, so I let the CD run to the next track and off I went. It was still dealing with spirit guides, etc., but the scenery was different and had the added bonus of drumming. So there I was, sitting on my rock ledge next to a stream, happily drumming away on my drum, and I'm supposed to be visualizing an animal on the other side. I thought for sure it would be the same animal as the last meditation, because it was only like, 15 minutes later, but it wasn't. This new animal didn't want to materialize. I thought it was vaguely bird-like, and I was trying very hard to make out what it was and still keep up with the CD, which was now telling me to interact with it again. Only it's extremely difficult to interact with something that's nearly invisible and keeps changing its mind about what it wants to be. After all, I didn't want to find myself hugging a porcupine.

And then suddenly there was THIS, just right up in my face (well not exactly that picture, but pretty damned close), and if I wasn't so bloody annoyed at it I probably would've burst out laughing. But here I was, trying to be all serious and interact with my animal and now this ridiculous-looking goat was getting in my way. And furthermore, the silly thing kept jumping around and blocking my view of the Extremely Difficult To See And Probably Not Even There At All spirit animal, and it was just ruining everything.

And then I realized that this goofy, obnoxious little goat probably was my animal. The other thing disappeared completely, I played with the goat and hilarity ensued. Not exactly the noble, majestic creature I was expecting, but there you are.

So that was my first experience with my new CD. It was much more light-hearted than I was expecting it to be, what with the goat and all. I think I need to work on putting my expectations aside, and I've definitely learned that not everything has to be serious and straight-faced - I need to have fun along the way!

Now I'm kind of hoping my goat will visit me again :)

Updated BlogRoll

2011-09-07T03:13:00.000-07:00

Just an FYI, I updated my BlogRoll today. It was pretty sparse before, but now has a bunch of the blogs that I regularly stalk (in no particular order). There's a few more blogs that I spy on as well, but I couldn't find their buttons so they missed out on the incredible opportunity to be featured on my uber famous blog. (That was tongue-in-cheek, in case you were wondering.)

If you'd like to see your button on there, please let me know!

Edit: I just put it in alphabetical order. Not that this matters to you, but whatev.

Pineapple-Carrot Cake Recipe

2011-09-05T19:10:00.000-07:00

This is the cake I made yesterday, in between the pickles and the peaches. I know I told you I wasn't going to post boring pictures anymore, or at least not any time soon, but this one comes with a recipe so it doesn't count. The recipe is from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book (which is quite a few years old, so isn't exactly "new" anymore), and it's a fantastic one. The cake turns out super moist and delicious every time. Probably not the healthiest cake around, but it has fruits and vegetables in it so it can't be that bad, right?

(it actually took a few more carrots than this)

2 cups all purpose flour
2 cups sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
3 cups finely shredded carrots
8-ounce can crushed pineapple
1/2 cup shredded coconut
1 cup cooking oil
4 eggs

In a large bowl, mix together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon.

It says you're supposed to shred your carrots. Personally, I couldn't be arsed to shred them. Why would I bother to do that when I can just throw them in the blender and they're nicely massacred in about 20 seconds flat? Work smarter, people, not harder.

Add the carrots, pineapple, coconut, oil, and eggs to the flour mixture. Now the recipe calls for an 8-ounce can of crushed pineapple, but I can never find an 8-ounce can and I'm too lazy to buy a pineapple and do it myself. I always buy a 14-ounce can, and just guesstimate about how much to put in. Honestly, I probably end up putting in between 10-11 ounces, not 8, but the cake always turns out great, so whatever.

Mix until combined, then pour into two greased and floured 9x1 1/2 inch pans, or one greased and floured 13x9x2 pan. Throw it in the oven at 350 degrees for about 30-35 minutes.

Allow cakes to cool completely before frosting.

Pickles and cake. Win.

Cream Cheese Frosting

2 3-ounce packages cream cheese
1/2 butter or margarine, softened
2 tsps vanilla
4 1/2 - 4 3/4 cups icing/powdered sugar

I'm in Canada, and our packages don't come in ounces (although some cans do?). I always buy a 250g package of cream cheese (which is around 8 ounces, I think) and use the whole thing, because who wants a tiny sliver of cream cheese kicking around the fridge? Also, the recipe says to sift the icing sugar, but I never do.

Beat together the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla until light and fluffy. Gradually add the icing sugar until frosting reaches a spreadable consistency.

Go ahead and frost your cake. If you want to, you can sprinkle a little cinnamon on top to make it look pretty. I'm sure there's a million other ways to make it look even prettier, but that's good enough for me.

Sadly, my cake was attacked by savages before I could grab the camera, but at least I got one photo.

Oh, and the cake needs to be stored in the fridge. Y'know, because of the cream cheese.

Canning

2011-09-04T16:56:00.001-07:00

So apparently I'm on a canning kick. This morning I made pickles, this afternoon I canned peaches, and tomorrow I'm making more blackberry jelly. I also made a pineapple-carrot cake in between the pickles and peaches, but that doesn't count as canning. My feet hurt from being in the kitchen all day.

Garlic Dills, from cucumbers

to cucumbers in a jar in a bath

to pickles!

They won't be ready for 6 weeks or so, but in the meantime, they look like pickles and I am happy. And now for the peaches!

Sliced and diced and hanging out in the syrup:

Bath time:

Finished. I obviously didn't pack them tight enough (especially the one on the left. Good grief), and they're floating, but I don't give a flying fruitfly because they will be just as yummy in the middle of winter as non-floating ones would be.

I know, these posts aren't very interesting. I won't be taking pictures of the jelly I make tomorrow, so don't worry (although I will probably make some applesauce in the next few weeks, and you just might be bombarded with pictures of those).

It's Blackberry Season!

2011-08-27T22:38:00.000-07:00

Husband left for the mainland today (he's doing a nine-week training course over there for his new job), so BoyChild and I went blackberry picking. Turns out he's the only person I know, and probably the only person in the entire world, that is quite happy to pick blackberries wearing shorts and no shirt. I blame his father.

So what did I do with the gazillion berries we brought home? I made jelly! Actually, I made jelly last weekend as well, but this time I took pictures.

First you start with a bag (or bucket) of delicious bounty.

Wash all the bugs off and smoosh them into a big, juicy mess, a little at a time (the blackberries, I mean, not the bugs).

Scoop the goopy mess into a jelly bag and squeeze/twist/wring the juice out of the berries. This is my favourite part. I always pretend I'm in a horror movie.

Once you have enough ~~blood~~ juice, boil it up with the other ingredients (this step also plays nicely into my horror movie game). I'm lazy, I used Certo today. Don't judge.

Meanwhile, you should have been sterilizing your jars and lids. I did have a picture of the jars in the oven, but then I realized my oven is in dire need of a cleaning and now I'm too embarassed to show you. So here's my lids instead.

Once you've poured your concoction into the jars (which I didn't get a picture of because I'm not an octopus), put the lids on. I like to flip mine over for a few minutes because that's the way I was taught, even though I've heard it doesn't make as a good of a seal when you do this. I've never had a problem with it though. If I were to sell my jelly, I would do the boiling water bath to be on the safe side, but I don't and also, I'm pretty stuck in my ways and would probably have a minor anxiety attack if I didn't flip them over.

Once they're flipped upright, you can sit back and listen for the popping sound of the lids sealing.

And there you are. Blackberry jelly!

This is the part where I admit that I had a little bit left over and poured it into a small bowl, and am eating it straight up with a spoon as I'm writing this. So good. What's even better is that I have more than enough berries left over to make a pie, and BoyChild wants to go picking again tomorrow so I can probably make a bunch of juice to freeze and use in recipes later. I'm thinking of making some yogurt cheese next weekend, and I bet blackberry juice would be amazing in it!

To Sea With Ye!

2011-08-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

Monday's morning was dark and rainy; not very windy, not too cold, but wet enough to serve as a gentle reminder that summer is waning in this part of the world. Husband and I waited patiently beneath the awnings, poking our heads into the little souvenier shop to browse through aisles of trinkets and chat with the shopkeeper. I'm always partial to the local interest books that abound in these shops. I couldn't even begin to guess at how many interesting tidbits of information my brain has soaked up just from reading passages in passing.

It was 8:30am, and we were waiting to go whale watching. Even though I've lived here most of my life, I'd never been whale watching. I mostly chalk it up to the boat my parents had when I was a child; most of our weekends were spent sailing in and around the Gulf Islands, and we saw many, many whales over the years. Whale watching tours are about $100/person, and I could never justify spending that much on something that (although definitely a beautiful sight to see) I've seen a million times. But, being an endlessly resourceful man with connections here, there, and everywhere, Husband managed to get us onboard for free. Awesome.

The first two and a half hours were spent zooming around looking for whales (we were the first boat of the day, so they didn't know where they were), which was fine with me; I just love being on the water. The colour of the day was reflected in the waves, the greyness speckled by millions of tiny, ever-changing ringlets where the water from the air met the water from the deep. We were moving fairly quickly at about 30 knots, bouncing over the smaller waves, falling with that butterfly feeling into the trough of the swells then bursting up over the top, just to do it all over again. I stood as close to the bow as I could and watched the water sail by, hypnotized by the movement of the vessel beneath me. It's the movement that I love the most, the not-so-subtle reminder that once I enter this watery world, I am no longer in control. The ocean and her moods reign here; her anger violent and deadly, her placidity soothing and calm. Together with her lover, the wind, she commands respect from even the mightiest of mariners. Her power is simultaneously destructive and creative, slowly changing and shaping the very land that we foolishly believe she has no hold on.

She did share her creatures with us that day. We saw elephant seals and harbour seals, California and stellar sea lions. Finally, a pair of magnificent humpbacks gave us a few brief, tantalizing views of their dorsal fins and tails, just as we had given up hope of seeing them at all. They were beautiful, but I almost wish they hadn't revealed themselves. The whale watching boats descended on them like vultures, circling and trying to anticipate where they would surface next. They were within the Department of Fisheries and Oceans' guidelines as far as maintaining their distances goes, but it still seemed like too little.

I imagine those whales were followed around all day, and that makes me sad. Another reason why I've never been whale watching. I would much prefer the whales/dolphins/porpoises to approach my boat of their own accord, either out of curiosity or a desire to play, and then to continue on their way once they get bored. It's so much more magical. We once had an orca surface right beside our sailboat; I was dangling my bare feet over the edge of the boat at the time. His spray soaked my legs, and his dorsal fin brushed against my feet as he went by. It doesn't get any more magical than that, and he was interacting with us because he chose to, not because he was being forced to.

Anyway, personal rant aside, it was a lovely outing that gave me a much-needed boost of energy, and an opportunity to reflect on the ocean, her mysteries, and what they mean to me. It occurs to me now that although I've lived in many different places, the ocean has always been nearby, whether it be the Pacific, the Atlantic, the Arctic, or the Baltic. I can't fathom being away from it.

Classes, Cards and Carrying-Ons

2011-08-19T16:10:00.000-07:00

Husband has been very supportive of me and my pagan explorations. Originally he thought to look into it for himself, but has since lost interest. He's remained supportive of me though, and I can bounce any ol' thought or idea off him without having to worry about him looking at me like I have six heads.

For my anniversary present (which I wasn't expecting, by the way, and now I'm all in a flap because I have no idea what to get for him), he got me a lovely incense holder with a Celtic knot design and a pentacle, a card with a beautiful picture of the Goddess giving birth in the forest, with the God and various animals looking on, and the Druid Animal Oracle deck.

I'm very excited about learning how to use this deck. I've never used tarot or oracle cards, so this is completely new to me. The cards themselves are gorgeous, and there are four blank cards that I can draw my own animals or totems on if they're not already represented in the deck. My drawing skills are questionable, to say the least, but it's a neat idea. It also comes with an instruction booklet, so hopefully I won't be completely lost. If anyone has any tips or helpful hints, I'd love to hear them!

Finally, he spoke with the lady that owned the shop he went to, and she offers classes on Wicca and magick, in both the fall and the spring. He said if I'm interested, I should look into taking them. They cost money though, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've read in numerous places that taking classes from people who charge money isn't the best way to go, and that if I'm looking for a teacher, I should find one that has very few students, if any (so their attention isn't divided amongst a large group of people), and that isn't in it for profit. On the one hand, this makes sense. But on the other hand, why wouldn't I pay someone for their time and expertise, especially as I don't feel that Wicca itself is the path I'm meant to follow (I'm more drawn to Celtic and Native American spirituality)? I'm looking at it from an educational standpoint, not strictly spiritual, I don't think it would be appropriate for me to expect someone to dedicate their time and effort to teaching a student who already knows she doesn't want to follow that path, without any kind of compensation. Some may wonder why I would want to take the classes in the first place, if Wicca is not something I'm really interested in. Well, I am interested in Wicca, I just don't think it's right for me (I'm also interested in archaeology, but I don't want to be an archaeologist. See where I'm going with this?). I also don't think anything can be lost in education, no matter what the subject. There will likely be things I learn that I can apply to my own practice, Wiccan or not. I've also read quite a bit about it, and while that certainly doesn't make me an expert, I do think I know enough to recognize BS, should it turn out that way.

Anyway, that's something for me to ponder. I won't be able to take the fall classes because I'm going back to school (yay! More on that later), Husband will be away for nine weeks doing training for his new job, and I won't have anyone to watch BoyChild in the evening. Maybe in the spring though, we'll see.

Ta for now!

Hawk of the Harvest

2011-08-14T19:30:00.000-07:00

I didn't do much today, aside from a load of laundry. I probably could've done about six more loads with the amount of dirty clothes in the hamper(s), but I did one and that gives me the right to say I did laundry today.

I did, however, finish the shawl I've been working on, the one I mentioned in a post a while back. I've called it Hawk of the Harvest.

Blocking

The end!

Herb Update

2011-08-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

Things are blooming in my herb garden! The pennyroyal is sporting some beautiful little purple flowers, the catnip (which was originally in another part of the yard, but I've since moved it to the table) has pretty white flowers, and of course, there's the lilies. They are so fragrant, when I leave the balcony door open I can smell them throughout the house. Heavenly!

Leechtown and Omens

2011-08-14T01:27:00.000-07:00

We went on a long walk today, about 16km round-trip. I am once again stiff and sore, but it was delightful nonetheless. We were trying to find the remains of an old mining town, called Leechtown, after reading about it in a book we purchased a few years ago about ghost towns in British Columbia. We tried to reach it once before, but BoyChild was with us and we didn't realize how far the trek was. BoyChild came with us again today, but he's two years older now and was able to make it. There is a legend about a miner who buried a boot filled with gold somewhere on the townsite, and I suspect BoyChild was secretly motivated by visions of treasure and riches.

It was pretty uneventful. There is nothing left of the town itself, aside from a clearing in the forest, and the main part of the town is all on private property so we couldn't access it anyway. I found a lovely little feather on the way back; small, black/dark grey with white spots. I have no idea who it originally belonged to as I'm not much of bird person and don't know of any spotted birds off the top of my head, but I carried it home and it's now sitting on my altar.

The river was beautiful; cool, calm, and collected, and sporting an inviting shade of dark, forest green. Had we brought our bathing suits, we likely wouldn't have made it to Leechtown at all.

The only other thing of note was that I found not one, but two dead snakes along the way. They were about 4 kms apart, so each one had come to its fate separately. The first snake, an adult, had obviously been run over by one of the many bicycles that travel the path, but the second, just a tiny baby, had no visible injuries. We moved them gently off the path and into the bushes, but there wasn't much else to be done.

My only concern is that some cultures believe that finding a dead snake is an omen, meaning that news of a death will soon come. I'm not sure whether I believe in omens or not, but perhaps that decision will be made for me shortly. I also wonder if this means two deaths are near, maybe one adult and one child? I hope with all my heart that this isn't the case, but I suppose only time will tell.

What think you, readers?

The Call of Kulshan

2011-08-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

We're back! Actually, we've been back since Monday night. But back from where, you ask? Back from an incredible trip to Mt. Baker, in celebration of our first anniversary! Our anniversary isn't until the 22nd, but Husband didn't know if he had to work that weekend so we went early.

Mt. Baker (Kulshan) is an active volcano in the Cascade Range. It's located east of Bellingham, Washington, but is visible from such noted locations as my kitchen window, balcony, and sun room. My dad used to take my brother and me to Mt. Baker every September, where we'd camp and hike and pick wild blueberries. Dad would get up really early and drive us to a little picnic area in Heather Meadows, and he'd make blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Then he'd put pieces of pancake on our heads and tell us to stand really still, and the whiskeyjacks would come and land on our heads and eat them. Dad would sit and read a book after breakfast, and my brother and I were given free reign of the meadows, with no restrictions on where we could and couldn't go. I realized on this trip that the area where we played wasn't as big as I remembered, so we really weren't very far away, but as a kid it felt like pure freedom. We'd pretend that we were mountain explorers, living off the land and traveling where no human had ever traveled before. We imagined bears and cougars around every corner, hunted phantom deer, and raced sticks down the many streams that trickled through the area. We'd lay claims to berry bushes and squabble over the best ones, until we'd devoured all the berries and had to move on to the next.

Warning: Image intensive
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Intuition

2011-07-28T13:37:00.000-07:00

Recently, there has been some drama. I don't like drama, I do not thrive on it. Drama makes me physically and mentally ill. The stress, the lost sleep, the interrupted eating patterns, and most of all, the anger, meld together and cause my body to stiffen and swell. It makes movement difficult and excruciatingly painful, leaving my mind in a state of weakness, and I slide into the dark.

That's me being dramatic. But the fact of the matter is, stress and upset is a huge RA trigger for me. I avoid it not only because it's unpleasant, which I imagine most people do, but because it's horribly detrimental to my health. It's simple: the more active my RA is, the more damage my bones incur. The damage cannot be undone, so I must take care to see that it is not done at all. I have long suspected that my general avoidance of close relationships with others is directly related to my aversion to drama, but that is for another post.

This post is about intuition.

It's a difficult thing, intuition. For the fourth time in just over a year, my initial intuition about someone has been proven correct. It has gone ignored each time because I was raised to be polite and friendly, and when someone is polite and friendly to you and makes an effort to build a relationship with you, you should oblige. After all, they haven't done anything wrong, and are usually being quite nice. It is so much simpler to brush aside that feeling of uneasiness than it is to try to explain to those around you why, exactly, you don't want to have anything to do with someone who has done you no wrong.

I have been thinking about this quite a bit as of late, even before the recent drama. Megan left a comment on my Bird of Prey post about guides, and suggested that I do some research on the meaning of hawks. I've been doing just that, and one common theme (at least in Celtic and Native American spirituality, which are both of particular interest to me) is vision and the ability to see what others have missed.

I'm going to go ahead and interpret that as intuition.

Of course, there is more to the hawk than just vision, and I have much more to learn and am certainly not claiming to be an expert of any sort, but this particular aspect of its symbolism has pretty much jumped up and bitten me square on the nose. I can't continue to ignore my intuition. I need to pay attention to what I see and interpret in others, and I have to learn to trust, and when necessary, act on that intuition.

I also really need to focus on turning all this negative energy into something productive and positive. I've been losing sleep and wearing my crankypants for a few days now, and I'm beginning to annoy myself.

Best. Dentist Appointment. Ever.

2011-07-21T14:50:00.000-07:00

I survived the dentist, and am feeling great! A tad sore, but able to eat and talk normally and I'm not swollen at all.

My wonderful parents fronted me the cash, even though they're going on vacation in two days and could've probably used it, but they insisted they didn't need it and this was more important. I am forever grateful, and love them to bits (and yes, I tell them that all the time, even when they're not lending me money). My dad also agreed to drive me there and pick me up, and I was to spend the night at their house because I wouldn't be allowed to drive for 24 hours afterwards. Husband was working crazy shifts, so he wouldn't be able to drive me.

The wait to see the dentist was agonizing. My appointment was for 12:45, so I got there at about 12:15, but didn't get called in until 2:00 because apparently the lady that was in the chair ahead of me had way more work needed than they anticipated. Or something. In any case, I quickly ran out of magazines to read, and was fretting like you wouldn't believe. First of all, obviously I'm scared of the dentist and I was about to go see him and quite possibly die, but also, I'd never been sedated before so I had no idea what to expect. It was conscious sedation, so they said I'd be breathing on my own and they would be interacting with me, asking me questions and such to make sure I was still okay. Then they said the drug would make me not remember anything afterwards, so it would all be a breeze.

And that's all fine and dandy and I don't remember a thing now, but at the time I was thinking, if I'm conscious and they're interacting with me, and I don't forget everything until later, don't I still have to go through it all and be aware that I'm going through it before I actually forget about it? So that's what had me right freaked out. It's great to be able to forget about a horrible experience afterwards, but that doesn't change the fact that you still have to experience it.
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But it could just go away on its own, right?

2011-07-19T17:36:00.000-07:00

These past two days have been awful for me. I've had to see the dentist twice. I've known about this cavity for probably a year, but going to the dentist makes me kind of uncomfortable, so I've put it off and now I'm paying for it. Big time.

Okay, so that's not entirely true. The dentist doesn't make me uncomfortable; I actually have a full-fledged, horrific, dentist-shaped phobia, enough to make me cry and panic just at the thought of sitting in that chair. But I couldn't sleep on Sunday night because my face felt like it was falling off, so I put on my Big Girl Panties and made myself an emergency appointment.

But even though they explained to me that nothing was going to happen at the appointment yesterday - they were just going to take some x-rays and have a look - I was still a blubbering, anxiety-ridden mess in the chair. I think the assistant was kind of scared to touch me, like I might bite off her fingers or something.

Smart woman.

Anyway, the dentist took one look at me and decided that he wasn't up for poking the crazy, so he referred me to another dentist that will sedate me for the procedure. I left there kind of relieved, thinking that I might have a few days grace before my consultation with the new dentist, and then a few days after that before my actual appointment. I had plenty of time to get myself worked up and develop a nice, solid, healthy panic.
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OM NOM NOM

2011-07-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

Oh hi! I made a pie:

Gluten and sugar, here I come!

Bird of Prey

2011-07-15T15:01:00.000-07:00

I was driving home from work yesterday and saw something incredible. I was in the high speed lane on the highway in semi-rush hour traffic (happily, on this highway, "rush hour traffic" actually moves). The highway has a fairly wide median covered in long grass, but because it's summer and has been hot, the grass is mostly brown. I was kind of zoned out, as I was tired from work and I do this drive every single day and nothing much interesting ever happens. Even the other drivers are polite, which is probably because we're all going slightly over the speed limit so nobody really gets impatient.

Then about 5-6 cars in front of me, this gigantic, beautiful hawk came screaming through the air, barely missing the tops of the cars, and landed in the grassy median. His wings remained open, spread wide enough so that I could see the individual feathers and their markings, and as I drove by, he turned his head and looked directly at me. I could see the cleverness - the intelligence - in his eyes, and I felt a sense of awe as it occurred to me that had I been just one car length ahead or behind, I would not have had the opportunity to glimpse that small but precious part of him and his life. Then I was past, and I watched in my mirror as he flew off with what I can only assume was a mouse clutched in his talons.

This all took about 4.2 seconds, and I nearly drove off the road, but that's not the point. The point is, in a time and place where I least expected it, I bore witness to nature's eternal cycle. I saw the beauty of death as it secured life, in a swift and calculated act that left me sitting there with my mouth agape, surely looking like a right idiot to anyone who happened to glance my way. And furthermore, I made eye contact with the magnificent creature behind it all.

It was nice to be reminded that even in the busy rush of the human rat race, despite our concrete, our cars, and our apparent determination to annihilate all things natural, the Earth carries on. Life begets death begets life.

Then on my lunchbreak today, as I was busy knitting a new shawl and thinking about nothing in particular, I suddenly realized that the colours of the yarn were reminiscent of that gorgeous hawk, and that the pattern of the shawl itself (interestingly, the pattern is called the "Ethereal Triangle Shawl") brought to mind the beauty, the delicacy, and the deadliness of the predatory nature of raptors.

So needless to say, I will be naming my shawl after him. I'm beginning to think I will wear it for ritual purposes, and not use it as everyday wear as I originally intended.

Feeling It

2011-07-13T14:23:00.000-07:00

One thing I've noticed in the months since I began my Pagan journey is that I seem to be happier. Not skipping-down-the-road-with-a-bluebird-on-my-shoulder-happier, but just an overall feeling of contentment and satisfaction. Now I'm not saying I haven't been grumpy in months, because that's certainly not true. I'm talking big picture, folks. Happier in general.

I'm not sure, exactly, what has brought about this change. I haven't gone all out and immersed myself in Pagan culture; in fact, nothing much has changed about my day-to-day routine. I still hang out with the same non-Pagan people, I still read non-Pagan books, and I still sit in an office and do the same work five days a week. I haven't actually met - or even talked to - another Pagan, at least in real life. Actually, I haven't really talked to anyone online, either. Maybe a comment here and there, but certainly nothing significant.

Could it be a culmination of the little things? I don't even know what those could be. I try to take a few moments each day to admire something pretty, and I've been chatting to and fussing over my herbs (but that's only been going on for what, two weeks? Three?), but beyond that, I just don't know. I don't think I've experienced any kind of "shift in consciousness", or whatever it is that people go on about. I still look at the world through the same eyes, don't I?

On the other hand, it's entirely possible that this has more to do with the time of year than anything else. Like a lot of people, in the winter, I am sad and dark. I tend to lighten up in the summer. Maybe my contentment can be attributed to that.

In any case, this is where it would be really nice to have some kind of guidance, someone to direct these questions to. I'm all for finding my own path through the trees, but an extra set of hands would be nice when it comes to building bridges over streams.

Glutenous Maximus

2011-07-10T12:46:00.000-07:00

I saw the doctor yesterday, and I can start reintroducing! It couldn't have come at a better time, because we had a barbeque to go to last night and I've already missed out on three other barbeques this month because of my stupid diet. I'm allowed to reintroduce things in whichever order I want, but I can only do one every three days. I also lost six pounds, which explains why all my pants fit again.

Husband was almost as excited as I was and wanted to know what I was going to introduce first, but I wasn't about to make that decision until I had properly surveyed and assessed the culinary riches at the barbeque. Sadly, dessert was not to be. I salivated over it for a good few minutes and seriously contemplated throwing all my efforts in the last 5 weeks away just to indulge, but I managed to restrain myself. Glazed strawberries in between two double chocolate fudge scones, layered with mounds of delicious whipped cream. OM NOM NOM. But it contained more than one of my no-nos (dairy, sugar, and gluten), so it was out of the question.

Instead, I helped myself to a large stack of pita bread. I also had one piece of chicken (which I'm allowed to eat anyway), but I mostly had pita bread. Lots and lots of pita bread. Admittedly, I may have gotten a little carried away, but I spent the rest of the evening immensely content in a lovely glutenous haze. So far I've felt no RA symptoms, so it looks like gluten isn't one of my triggers. Hooray!

Next up will be sugar, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. But you know what? Gluten + sugar = DONUTS.

For the Love of Food

2011-07-08T08:48:00.000-07:00

My books arrived the other day, and I've been devouring them. I've always been a reader, and I love have new material around to sink my teeth into. Figuratively speaking, of course. I don't actually go around chewing on tomes.

And now for some truly astonishing news:

My herbs are still alive.

They caught an unfortunate case of the wilts last week, at which point it occurred to me that I may need to water them, possibly even more than once. So I have been, and they've perked back up are looking quite cheerful for plants that are destined to be consumed.

This is where I confess that I've been talking to them. I've also been fondling them, and had a brief few moments where I contemplated knitting little sweaters for them. Thankfully, the logistics of that allowed me to dismiss the idea almost as soon as I thought of it (almost). Husband thinks I'm cute, although I suspect if I told him about the sweaters he would begin to think otherwise.

Topic Change
I'm going back to the doctor tomorrow, and I'm excited. This is because I've been on the most horrifically restrictive diet for the last 5 weeks or so, and I'm expecting to be allowed to start slowly reintroducing things tomorrow.

Backstory: I have rheumatoid arthritis, and I've been seeing a naturopath in the hopes of finding a way to manage it without the plethora of pharmaceuticals that I'm currently taking. Nobody knows for sure what the cause of RA is, but some theories suggest that diet/certain types of foods may be a trigger. So that's what we're trying to figure out right now, whether some of the more common triggers are in fact triggers for me. Currently, I'm not allowed to eat dairy, soy, gluten, sugar, eggs, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, corn, caffeine, alcohol, canned foods, processed foods, deep fried foods, red meat, citrus, peanuts, or bananas. It's pretty much been a month from hell, as I like food and apparently I like all the things that I probably shouldn't eat. Figures.

Productive Weekend

2011-06-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

This was a three-day weekend for me (I get every second Monday off work), and aside from a %#$*!&(^ canker sore that's sucked every last bit of joy out of my life, it's been pretty productive.

1. Herb Garden
Oh yes, I did. Saturday was spent running around to different nurseries trying to find what I was looking for, which was rather difficult because I had no idea what I was looking for. I originally thought to buy seeds, but then I discovered that on average, they'd take about three months to mature - so I bought the pre-made versions because in three months, fall/winter will be nipping at our heels.

In other words, I'm too impatient to wait. Maybe next year. But here's a photo!

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This.

2011-06-26T18:30:00.000-07:00

As a follow-up to my earlier post, The Atheist in Me, I would like to share this article. A woman named Amber Magpie wrote a wonderful essay on Paganism/Atheism, entitled Talking to the Gods as an Atheist Pagan. She neatly put into words what I have (obviously) been struggling to, and she's done it far better than I ever could.

This is how I view deity. The reason I can't reconcile energy with deity is because that's not what I need to be doing at all. Energy is different; energy is not deity, but rather the mechanism through which magic is performed and how we mold the world and our circumstances to our will, whereas deity is like a "mental placebo" (para. 6), used to strengthen visualization in order to better our chances of achieving our goal.

It may seem silly to those of you who have been on your path for any length of time, but for someone just starting out (me), it feels so liberating to not only be able to put your beliefs into words (even if they're not your own), but to realize that there are other people out there who believe similarly. I feel validated.

Many thanks, Amber.

Herbs, Herbs, Herbs!

2011-06-24T14:24:00.000-07:00

I've been interested in learning about herbs and their qualities for a while now, but I had no idea where to start. So I kept putting it off, and allowed myself to get distracted by other shiny things.

But as of about 1.2 minutes ago, I have officially ordered Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs (along with a few other things..damn Amazon). I called around to all the bookstores in town because I prefer to buy locally, but alas, no one had it. Actually, that's a big fat lie. The truth is, I'm a ZOMGINEEDITRIGHTNOW kind of person, and buying locally means I'm not out checking the mail every five minutes.

Anyway, I've heard it's a great resource, so I figured that'd be as good a place to start as any.

And as I type this, it occurs to me that Canada Post is still on strike. Arrrgggghhhh, curses and many profanities! Who knows when I'll get it!

Bollocks. Oh well. I'm still going to the garden centre tomorrow, and will still buy anything that sounds vaguely familiar. Hopefully I'll be able to keep them alive until my book(s!) arrive.

Anybody know what kinds of herbs would be good to start with?

Update: So according to Amazon.ca, my postal code will not be affected by any delays due to the Canada Post strike. The world is rainbows once again!

Domestic Shortcomings

2011-06-22T22:25:00.000-07:00

So apparently I'm not very good at making gluten-/dairy-/sugar-free chocolate cookies.

Y'know. In case you were wondering.

Happy Solstice! Or: Husband and the Case of the Mystery Soup

2011-06-21T12:32:00.000-07:00

Happy Solstice! I hope everyone has a chance to get out and enjoy the sun today!

I do not have my wand finished. I had good intentions and really did try, but life has gotten in the way - which is a pretty poor excuse, but there you are. I did manage to see the dawn this morning, although my wakening had more to do with a sleepwalking husband than any organization or planning on my part.
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Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to make a quick post to wish all the fathers out there a wonderful day!

I spent the day with two fathers: my husband, and my dad. Both of them are amazing men, and I am forever thankful to have them in my life.

Pictures! (Obviously these were not taken today.)
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The Atheist in Me

2011-06-16T22:32:00.000-07:00

Being an Atheist for as long as I can remember has made it quite difficult for me to accept the existence of a "God" or "Goddess", at least as physical beings. It's hard - nay, damn near impossible - to believe one thing your entire life, and then wake up one morning and believe something completely different. It just doesn't happen that way, and I'm okay with that.

I'm writing this all out because as a beginner - a "new" Pagan, if you will - it is a part of my self-discovery and will help me understand and solidify my own path. I'm just talking myself through it, basically. My theory is that it takes coherent thoughts to form a post, and to form coherent thoughts one must actually think about what it is they're thinking about. Make sense?
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Missed Deadline

2011-06-15T22:20:00.000-07:00

Full moon tonight, and no wand. I've haven't yet finished carving out the bits where the stones are supposed to go, as it's turning out to be a tad more difficult than I thought without the proper tools.

So instead of a wand, here's a story about socks.
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Wand Update

2011-06-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

My wand is coming along nicely, if I do say so myself. My husband was eager to help (and will be making his own wand tonight!), so he shaped my branch into a rough version of its current form. I spent a few hours today sanding it down, rounding it out, and smoothing it, then I applied a natural tung oil finish. I also fiddled around with the cord to get an idea of how I wanted to place it.

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Syrup Fail

2011-06-12T23:28:00.000-07:00

I am not very domestic. I would even go so far as to say that I am possibly the least domestic person I know. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t try, and what I lack in talent, I make up for in perseverance (to quote my mother).

Mrs. B. from Confessions of a Pagan Soccer Mom recently posted a recipe for lavender syrup, and I was absolutely smitten by the photograph. I had to make it, even though I had never before entertained even the smallest inkling of a thought of making syrup of any kind, least of all lavender. In fact, up until this point I was blissfully unaware that lavender could be used for much of anything beyond massage oils and aromatherapy.

Bibbity Bobbity Boo

2011-06-10T15:55:00.000-07:00

I’ve collected an oak branch.

Granted, this may not seem like a huge accomplishment (and I suppose it isn’t, really, considering the amount of oak trees in my area), but I’m planning on making a wand with it, and that, for me, will be quite the accomplishment indeed.

Let me backtrack for a moment. After the first month or so of reading and researching, I started to think about making an altar. Every book I read had different instructions surrounding altar layouts and the tools one should have, but I had already begun to pick and choose which ones I wanted based on what made sense to me.

Balance

2011-06-08T09:28:00.000-07:00

Over the past few months I've read what seems like a gazillion books on the topics of Paganism, Witchcraft, Druidry, Asatru, etc. The vast majority were books targeted at beginners, because, well, I am a beginner and that's where I thought I ought to start. I've begun to pick up patterns, consistencies, and inconsistencies between them all, which just goes to show how varied Paganism is. I've also begun to determine what feels "right" for me, and have been able to pick through different suggestions by different authors, discarding information that doesn't quite fit with my view on things and piecing together the information that does. I suppose this means I am on my way to becoming an Eclectic Pagan.

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Brief Intro, Hello and Whatnot

2011-06-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

I suppose my first post should be an introduction of sorts, because y’know. The hordes of people reading this will surely want to know who I am.

I’m a wife and mother of one¹. We live on the west coast of BC, Canada, and spend a lot of time complaining about how the weather isn’t what we want it to be at that very moment. If it’s cool, we’d rather it be warm and sunny. If it’s warm and sunny, it’s too hot and the cats are leaving dead flies all over the house. I suspect this (the complaining, not the dead flies) is more due to human nature rather than our disagreeable personalities, because we’re not really all that disagreeable. At least I don’t think so. In any case, we're a pretty normal bunch. We have two cats, a bouncy little dog, and a fish named Oliver. I like to knit, mess around on the internet, and play piano, while my husband sings and plays guitar (see?). Our son likes baseball, watching hockey, and just being a kid.

Why have I opted to start a blog, you ask? Well, two reasons. I’ve spent the majority of my years living a happy little Atheistic existence, but I’ve always said that if I ever had to choose a religion/faith, it would be Paganism. Then I realized how silly it was for me to keep saying that, to essentially profess a connection with something but never bother to get off my arse and look into it.

So that’s what I’m doing. I’ve hoisted myself up off my Atheistic couch (which is quite comfortable, by the way, and doesn’t steal the change from your pockets), made my way out of the house into the backyard, and am happily climbing trees, poking at things, and turning over rocks to see what I can find. Am I a witch? Not yet, because I've only just begun and am not yet knowledgeable enough to consider myself one. That is, however, my goal: to feel confident enough in myself and my knowledge to be able to consider myself a witch, without wondering if real witches are rolling their eyes and shaking their heads at me when I'm not looking.

Anyway, my point is, I want to blog about it. I will post about the things I read and do along the way, and because life tends to pop up no matter how much duct tape we use to keep it quiet, I will also yap about everyday matters that really have nothing to do with anything.

So that's the first reason.

The second reason is because my husband does a lot of Really Hilarious Things, and I need a place to write them all down.

(As a side note, if you've read this, then there's no sense reading the About page because it's exactly the same.)

              1. Or rather, stepmother. From this point forward though, I will refer to him as my son, unless for
                   whatever reason I’m also talking about his mother, in which case I will likely remind you that I’m
                   actually his stepmom in order to avoid mass confusion/chaos/wtfs.