Favorite Book List

This little blog is in celebration of the discovery of a book I have been looking for since college. 

I was raised in the Catholic School System from Grade 1-8.  Part of that experience was the Scholastic Book Club.  This was a program designed to encourage reading in young kids with access to discounted books designed for the specific age of the target audience.  I don't remember any of the books being more than $2-3.  I think the most expensive book I ever got was $5.

 

I remember this so clearly because I was stunned when I went to a commercial bookstore, B Dalton in it's glory days (pre-Barnes&Noble), and discovered the books there cost over $20!  I was used to hard cover bound books from my book club.  Even the paperbacks were over $5 and that was so surprising to me!

 

My mom made it a point to order "at least one" book every month.  So wether I wanted to read or not, I had to go through the catalogue and pick one book that I might like to read someday.

 

Sometime between 3rd grade and 6th grade, I read a book about a young girl, my age, who had an Aunt come to visit over the summer.  She was weird and odd, and strange.  She left a trunk in the attic of the young girl's home and went back on her travels.  Later on, the weather is rainy and wet over Thanksgiving weekend and the young girl and her friend get into the trunk.  They find Seven LEague Boots, Magic Gloves, and a magic mirror, amongst other items.  They have very interesting adventures!

 

The book really spoke to me.  My grandmother or my grandfather gave me the book.  I know that for a while, my Grandfather was buying the books.  If I refused to buy a book for the month, mom would give him the order form and tell him I didn't want anything.  It never ocurred to me that the books he and my grandmother gave me were from that Book Club until much later on in life.

 

What the Witch Left by Ruth Crew was one of the best books I have ever read.  I was at the right age, at the right time.  It was a book that imprinted on me the concepts and ideas my Grandfather was trying to show me. 

 

I finally found a diverse enough forum - with people old enough to remember - to post in and I sent out a request for help in the search.  A nice lady pointed me to Stump the Bookseller at LoganBerryBooks.com .  It took a few tries with various keywords, but I finally got the right combination and there it was.

Here's how crazy this is.....  When I finally got to see a picture of the book, I could actually smell the pages.  It was crazy.  At least from a psychological point, I know I have the right book.  LOL!

 

I am amazed at how that book became the cornerstone of my library over the years.  I decided to take a look at the list (it's the end of the year you know....), and make a list of the books I love. 

(I am not going to all the work of linking the books.  Just copy and paste the title and author into google and you'll get the info on the book - sorry!)

 

What the Witch Left, Ruth Crew, Scholatic Press
A Wrinkle in Time, Madalein L'Engle
A Wind in the Door, Madeleine L'Engle
A Swiftly Tilting Planet, Madeleine Peyroux
The Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
  The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
  The Voyage of the Dawn Treader 
  The Silver Chair
  The Horse and His Boy
  The Magician's Nephew

 

Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
Dracula, Brahm Stoker
The Talisman, Stephen King & Peter Stroub
The Stand, Stephen King
The Dark Tower, Stephen King (Started in 1985 and I finally finished it in 2003)
  I The Gunslinger
  II The Drawing of the Three
  III The Wastelands
  IV Wizard and Glass
  V Wolves of the Calla
  VI Song of Susannah
  VII The Dark Tower

 

Imajica - Clive Barker
The Great And Secret Show The First Book Of The Art, Clive Barker
Everville The Second Book Of The Art, Clive Barker
The Thief Of Always, A Fable, Clive Barker
The Vampire Chronicles, Anne Rice
  Interview with a Vampire
  The Vampire Lestat
  Queen of the Damned
  The Tale of the Body Thief
  Memnoch the Devel
  Merrick
  Blackwood Farm

 

The Mayfair Witches, Anne Rice
  The Witching Hour
  Lasher
  Taltos

 

The Feast of All Saints, Anne Rice
Cry to Heaven, Anne Rice
The Mummy, Anne Rice
Servant of the Bones, Anne Rice
 
Avalon Series by Marion Zimmer Bradley
  The Mists of Avalon
  The Forest House
  Lady of Avalon 
  Priestess of Avalon

 

Daughter of the Forest, Juliet Marillier
Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan
  The Eye of the World
  The Great Hunt

 

Wicked, The Life & Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, Gregory MacGuire
Son of a Witch, Gregory MacGuire
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, Gregory MacGuire
A Lion Among Men, Gregory MacGuire

Keep in mind that this list is not inclusive of other books, such as on religion and spirituality or those books of non fiction which feed my career.  This list is just the notable fiction that has driven me over the years.

 

Solstice Updates and New Photos

The Jamaica Inn has updated photo albums and blog.  The Snow here in Vegas, the Yule Crafts, the Pups watching the light show from the car, the tree, all of it, is updated. 

I have been "checking resources, part 2" where I went through the house and threw out the garbage and validated the treasures!  (Thanks to the Sage One!)

I woke up sick and feeling really bad this morning, was sick all day.  Coughing, sore throat, upset stomache, cramps, the works.  Around 8pm tonight, I realized I was sick from the fire place!  I fell asleep on the couch and left the gas fireplace going all night!

I have the heat on 72 but I am freezing.  It's so cold outside!!  So I am turning up the heat in the bedrooms so I won't be cold at night.  Carbon Monoxide poisoning is not such a good thing!

Ok so here's the deal with this year - Holiday 2008 - which is so different than past years.  This year, I am celebrating Yule/Solstice, Friday through Sunday, here in Las Vegas, with a traditional Ceremonial Service on Saturday night (including bonfire and drums) and an early morning Sun Ceremony on Sunday morning - yes folks, that's the importance of this year's Yule/Solstice, it falls on a SUNday.  Imagine that, the Solstice being celebrated on the very Roman Calendar Day celebrating the Sun.  Who new those Ancient Romans & Greeks had any idea what they were doing...... Wink!

Then I am headed to the Family (aka The Fam) Christmas Eve through New Years.  So I am making mom her favorite Salmon dinner (for those who remember the Broadway & Redondo days in Long Beach, it's the cashews and the asperagus one).  I am then, on Christmas Day, driving from Tujunga to Long Beach and spending a few hours with my Sister - yup capitol "S" - and her kids who are visitng from Chicago.  Archie and Loki are not welcome so I am setting them up comfy in the back of the Durango because they are goin campin that day!  (boo-hoo..... )

Basically, it's the first time I have celebrated Christmas in nearly 10 years, and it's the first Solstice my Mom didn't get to spend with me.  She likes the convenience of a hedonist daughter celebrating on Dec 21 and the conventional daughter who celebrates on Dec 25.  Keeps a happy and peaceful family.  Yep, lookin forward to The Fam.  Maybe I'll convince Mom to go to the movies....

In the mean time, I have been making crafts like crazy for this weekend's activities.  First we have, a Yule Log which was the joint creation of both Paul & I.  
Paul brought the wood over to the house way back in March/April, within the first 3 months of living here.  The log has been sitting on the side of the house for nearly a year 10-11 months.  Paul hacked up the top for me to allow candles to sit level.  We clipped branches of the bottom of the Yule Tree and I added some mistletoe.

This is our Yule Log for the house.  We lit the log tonight First Night, and will light it each night until Sunday Morning.  It's the one ritual we both agree to.  Slight modifications to suit each other's belief, but on the whole, pretty well the same beliefs.

Next, we have the edible Yule Log.  
I was surfing one night in preparation to build the Solstice Altar, and I came across this recipe for a Yule Log using cake mix and store bought icing and a zip lock baggie.  Of course, being fascinated by baggies, I had to to try it!  This is the first stage, pre decorations.

So I mix the Devils Food cake and the Yellow Cake mix in separate bowls.  I layer the Dark batter in a Loaf Pan and then spoon the yellow in the center, use a knife to swirl it around.  Repeat until I got the top - 350 oven for 60 minutes.  Well, the cake exploded in the oven - but that was a GOOD thing.  See the little knobs on the the log?  That's the "lava" from the spill over.  After the disaster with the Apple Coffee Cake, Onagh now uses a baking sheet under all cake and pie pans!  So the batter overflowed the loaf pan as it baked, and then it .... baked.  I tore up the lava, eating most of it of course, and then made three root knobs on the log.  Tah Dah!

The remaining yellow batter was going to be cup cakes.  Then I found a disposable 8x8 cake pan and decided another cake was better! 

Oh yes, the Apple Coffee Cake.   
That was some thing I put together on Wednesday night.  So I had these apples that I HAVE to use or they will go bad.  I decided to make the BisQuick Coffee Cake Crumble and add apples.  Let's get really creative and soak the apples in REALLY expensive Nicaraguan Rum!
So I am making the crumble right, and decide hey, a little rum here would be cool!  Right.  Now it takes like a Rum Cake with Apples!  It's potent.  Paul says it's really good, but I think it is too over powering.

And last but not least, the altar, newly set for Solstice.  First "official" altar (IE not whipped up in front of the fire place) in the House!  Yea!  And the happy result is that after Yule I can take it down and I have FINALLY decorated the Room - Game, Dinning, Great, whatever name you call it - after only 11 months in the house!!  Whoo Hoo
The Pine Cone on the Altar is from our Beltane at May Magick in Angeles National Forest.

This is now the view coming into the house from the Garage.  Much better than the blank space that is nothing but storage limbo! 

You can see from this photo that I have plans for the PS2 when I get home from Long Beach!

This next photo is just curious.  It looks like a woman lying on the couch!  The purse is the head, the brown blanket is the arms & torso, lying with a pillow underneath, the light blanket is the legs with a pillow.  That was all by accident, but very cool.

So it's a busy time for me.  I am so happy I have been able to enjoy this time to do the fun crafts I have been wanting to do for years and never had the time or energy!

I have decided to stay in Vegas and look for Contract Work nationwide.  It will be easier and more comfortable to have this beautiful house to come home to, and enjoy.  McCarran Airport will be easy to fly in and out of, and I will go back to the 35 hour week - Consultant Hours.  Fun Times.

Other than that, I am planning a trip to someplace tropical with drinks that have fruit and umbrellas in them..... I'm feeling Spring or a Birthday Celebration!

Ok Everyone!!  Happy Solstice, Happy New Year!

The Goddess is Alive and Magic is Afoot!

For those of us on the Pagan Path or fans of Marion Zimmer Bradley, the book, Mists of Avalon has a place in our mental library. At the end of Morgain's journey, even amidst the Christian invasion of her country via Catholicism, she sees a very subtle, public celebration of the Goddess.

The lesson is that no matter what the faith, the Goddess finds a way into the world through every portal.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/13/nyregion/13virgin.html?em

How appropriate is this? The timing is absolutely divine! The weekend of the full moon, with the moon closest to Earth in it's journey around the planet. Yule is around the corner and the Goddess is being paraded through Manhattan.

7-Days in Zion!

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, we spent 7 days in Zion National Park.  I had the best time, and finished nearly all of the posted trails - Zion in under 3 hours & Zion in Over 3 hours.

 

The photos are posted here because family who want them can easily download from Spaces than anywhere else on the net.

 

Next year will be all about Petroglyphs, as we only found one site.  The other sites are 6-8 hour hikes and are a full day committment.

Sex Education

Did you know that the any discussion of the Human Reproductive organs – ANY discussion – is classified as Sex Education in the United States public schools?

From 1999 to 2001, I was an active member of the Endometriosis Resource Center (endocenter.org) and was listed as a Contact in my area for any women or Teens who needed information about the disease. In late 1999, after Endo nearly killed me, I discovered the volumes of emails begging for help were form girls 12-18 and young women 18-35. The idea was, get information to the school nurses so that Teen girls with Endo can get help.

Not allowed.

It is sex education and requires several things: a license to practice medicine in your state, a teaching credential, an approved permission slip form from the school district and a 6 month Board Review of the proposed curriculum.

In other words, no information about a deadly disease that affects teen girls can be shared on School Property. The place where Teen Girls spend all of their time.

Based on the fact that a certain Governor from Alaska is vehemently against Sex Education in public schools and has a pregnant teenage daughter, makes me wonder if Endo will ever truly be cured. With women like this in our local governments it makes me cringe when I think of all the little 12, 13 and 14 year olds dealing with their first menstrual cycle in a hostile and dark hearted environment.

I am very worried. We may have to live in a future of Mary Howell's, cruel and vicious women who harm their own "for the better good", blindly following a systematic break down of civil rights and spread a message of "freedom for me but not for you". This is what we will be forced to choose if we want to put a woman in the Executive Branch.

http://womenagainstsarahpalin.blogspot.com/

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/comments_blog/2008/09/gloria-steinem.html

Do I now have to worry that by placing a woman in the Executive Branch means I go back into the Broom Closet? Do I have to worry that the indigenous beliefs of my family heritage will be outlawed in this country? Does a vote for a woman mean a vote against freedom?

I am just not sure that a woman who is against sex education and has a pregnant teenager understands power – or rather the empowerment – knowledge can provide for a person.

Then again, maybe this same woman is simply a staunch defender of Free Will. Her unwillingness to interfere with the Free Will of her daughter might be evidence to support her true beliefs. Hey, maybe she's secretly a Pagan too!

 

For The Little Sister & Baby Bear #3

Interesting...

So now the lamestream media is going to defend a racist, wife-abusing, drunken, out of control cop.

You go lefties! Obama for emperor!

Posted by: patch | August 30, 2008 2:09 PM

Monegan confirmed his allegiance to the "Good Old Boys Network" in failing to do anything about an obviously unfit trooper. Obviously, he was not doing his job to protect and defend the residents and laws of Alaska and he had to ge.
Way to go, Gov. Palin

Posted by: Larry | August 30, 2008 2:22 PM

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/washingtonpostinvestigations/2008/08/monegan_to_palin_maam_i_need_t.html

This is more for The Little Sister than for the public, "This is my Position" blog.

A lot of people are asking me, and I have been resistant to respond, about my Political Position since Hillary did not get the Democratic Nomination. The reason was because , at the start of the Presidential Race, the Democratic offerings were unpalatable. So at that time 2 years ago, The Little Sister and I begrudgingly acknowledged that we were again on the same Political Team. For the first time, the entire family was on the same side.

Then Hilary joined the race. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pantsuits was on the move. For those of you who don't know, in the corporate world, the Suit is the uniform – and the Pant Suit is the "everything but the tie" female answer to the Executive Uniform. I am a fan of the pantsuit.

People didn't even ask me anymore. On the day she put her hat in the ring, The Little Sister called me at 6am to say, "Your with her right?". I didn't know yet, and turned on the news. With Little Sister on the phone, I whooped and hollered and politely told The Little Sister that she would be a fool not to support Hillary simply because we are both Middle Manager Women in the Corporate World. Hillary is our role model. Mom raised us to be as strong and independent and fiercely capable as any man. And she ensured we were US Citizens to guarantee we would be totally free women, free to do what when and how we pleased. Of course I was supporting Hillary and still do.

Hillary is Our Generation. Every woman under the age of 60 has benefitted from the same Fore Mothers of Women's Liberation in the United States as Hillary. We share the same DNA. It doesn't matter what your Political Position is, if you are a woman, you have a bank account, you have a Driver's License, you are a US Citizen with the ability to vote, and you have the right to attend the University of your choice, then you too are a Child of the Fore Mother's of Women's Liberation. Feminism is a bad word these days. But ask any Socially Conservative women if she is willing to turn back the days to Pre-Movement, and she will have you committed. You must be touched, dear, sit and have a cold cloth on your forehead. Ask any Democratic woman and you could likely end up in the Emergency Room. Regardless of our political views, we are women, we are free, and we are never going to let that freedom escape our control.

Then Hillary did not get The Nod. Instead, Obama got it. We all held our breath when Obama visted Hillary at her Washington Office immediately after the voting closed. No word on anything from that meeting. We all thought it – What if it was an Obama/Hillary ticket? Would that work? Somehow, someway, the deal was not struck. Now we have Obama/Biden. The Democrats have completely cast out the women's vote. They put us aside and said "Too bad, so sad".

Not a single woman on the ticket.

McCain was supposed to pick Romney. McCain was supposed to ensure our Family would remain on opposite sides for at least another 4 years. And then he did the unthinkable. McCain chose Palin, blindsiding everyone and putting Women back into the equation. But wait, there's more. McCain chose a VP candicate from our Sisterhood!! She is a Corporate Mother, a Business Woman Soccer Mom. A Woman with a sister embroiled in a nasty divorce and custody battle with an abusive ex-husband!

Every Social issue that ever mattered to a Woman is rolled up into one candidate. Pay Equity, Social Engineering, Education, Economy… need I go on? For the educated woman, looking out for herself and her family, which Ticket is she going to choose? Is that a great big DUH?

The Liberal Media wasted no time getting this story out to the voters. So now the Democrats are supporting the Good Old Boys? How does that equate? Supporting a cop that couldn't even follow the simplest of laws – hunting without a license – and violating the very laws and rules he has sworn to uphold. This is what the Democratic Party and the Liberal Media want to support? A cop who tasers his own Clan? What if the kid said "Hey Dad, try the .22 out on me! Let's see if it really hurts!", would we be reading about a teenager murdered by his step-Dad? And the best inference, that Palin placed pressure on Monegan to do something. Like the entire Police Force is threatened by an abused woman and her Senetor Sister! They run the daily life of the sister, they determine wether Palin's family has a good day or a bad day in their home town… and the idea here is that Palin pressured the cops to do something about their out-of-control Officer. There must be something in the water up there in Alaska.

So, being the educated woman that I am, I say, GOOD! Show the Good Senator from Alaska defending her Family tooth and nail. We love seeing a woman protecting her Tribe. The angry Mama Bear swiping at the aggressor, claws and flesh and teeth. Bring it on! Teach America's Daughters how to be strong, fiercely independent Citizens who protect their freedoms and their families!

Now our Family is reunited in the Political Arena. And all our Canadian Mom cares about is "Which one is going to benefit my daughters best?"

I am supporting the McCain/Palin ticket, and it seems that plenty of other folks feel the same way about McCain's pick as the private party donations mounted since the announcement of Pailin as his running mate. I hate that it's another 4 years of Republicans, but if this is the compromise we have to make to get a Woman in the Whitehouse, then so be it.

Is that such an outrageous position? Maybe, maybe not. Hillary played nice by not contesting the Democratic Election. She could have tied it up in court and demanded a fair recount. She did not. She was polite. Her politeness is admirable, but it doesn't get Women in the Whitehouse.

Consider this: women control 85% or more of the average US household's discretionary budget. Women decide where families go on vacation. Women decide what educational choices are made in terms of their children. Women control the brand names that enter their homes. And believe it or not, women control religion. We have controlled government from behind the men for thousands of years. Why not finally come out from behind the curtain oh great and powerful Oz, and show the world who wears the pants.

Of course there are die hard Democrats who will never leave their party. That's to be expected. But those of us who think for ourselves and decide what is best for us, we outnumber the die-hard Democrats. And our ability to cross party lines to defend our choices is legendary.

So yes, I am voting for McCain because he is giving me, a woman, representation at the highest office. The foot will be in the door for a Female President, and that's what I want for me, for The Little Sister, and especially for Baby Bear #3.

Why My Aunt Judy Isn’t A Pagan

Cauldron Farm is a small homestead in Hubbardston, which is just south of Gardner in Central Massachusetts

Why My Aunt Judy Isn't a Pagan

Why My Aunt Judy Isn't A Pagan (Or How Far We Still Have To Go)

A few years ago, my Aunt Judy had a faithquake. Raised by one Baptist and one Methodist parent, she decided that her church wasn't doing enough for her and cycled quickly, in a period of a few years, through several different religions. She'd call up periodically and tell me about her perambulations, since I was the member of the family with the strangest religion yet.

I'm a hardline, polytheistic, pantheistic, animistic, died-and-born-again-the-shamanic-way pagan. Of course, I was perfectly willing to help when she decided to check out paganism as a potential faith - having already investigated and tossed Buddhism, Shinto, Taoism, Hinduism, and Native American beliefs. I gave her a list of reading materials in books on and the Net, and sent her to investigate practicing groups in her area. After about eight months, however, she came back to me to talk about this final leg of her search, and to apologize, regretfully.

It seemed that she hadn't found what she wanted here, either, All right, I understand that religion is an intensely personal and intensely individual journey. There is no one path that's right for everyone, and sometimes a search is necessary. However, I have to admit that I foolishly assumed her issues would be with the theology and beliefs of my faith, or perhaps its politics. Of course, I had to ask where paganism had fallen short for her....and I got a surprise.

First, let me point out that Aunt Judy, although raised Christian, is by no means a Bible-thumping fundamentalist. Like most of the rest of my family, she's an environmentally aware liberal Democrat, a self-proclaimed feminist since I was in diapers, raised in a white-bread liberal church that politely tolerates queers and would never be so rude as to suggest that anyone short of a mass murderer is destined for Hell. She admitted to finding a surprising resonance with many pagan beliefs and values, admitted to being touched by its aesthetics and rituals, and will always carry with the skills of Tarot and astrology that she picked up on this leg of her search.

However, for her at least, a big part of religion is community of belief, and community action under that flag of belief. She pointed out that she could believe anything she wanted in the privacy of her bedroom, and intended to, but the point of her search was to find others of like mind with which to band together, worship, and serve. And, she felt, paganism fell down severely in that category.

But there are a lot of pagan groups! I protested, but soon discovered that what she really wanted was not a coven but a congregation - something with a built-in structure where she could step in and out without having to start over each time. She enumerated the things she'd liked about her church upbringing - the seeming effortlessness with which service projects were initiated and carried out, the willingness and enthusiasm of church members to pitch in and help, the regular schedule with some worship-oriented thing happening every week and sometimes twice. The child care and potluck suppers.

I remembered how hard I'd had to work the last time I tried to get a bunch of pagans to do a service project, First of all, just agreeing on something politically correct enough for all the members took months, and then, when we actually went to do the work at a local soup kitchen, half the people didn't show up. I was almost ashamed of us. Leading pagans is like herding cats, they say. I noticed the fundamentalist church had more people there than we did, and after asking I discovered that this wasn't a regular gig for them either, but just something they'd decided to do a week ago. A week ago! I tried to bring it up with my fellow pagans, to no avail. They're all just brainwashed, the tossed-off opinion seemed to be, and we're individualists. Creative. Not clones. Of course it's easier to get them to show up and work. Maybe that's the case, but I still felt bad about it, especially when I heard some of my fellow pagan workers trumpet proudly for months afterwards how they had actually done real service work, as if it was something terribly special for which they deserved extra praise.

If I'm a Baptist or a Mormon or even a Buddhist, Aunt Judy pointed out, "I can go anywhere in the country and get in trouble, and make a few phone calls and find someone who will come out and talk to me, even if I'm in jail. If I die anywhere in the country, my friends can find a clergyperson to speak at my funeral on a day's notice. I can be buried in a graveyard of my faith. I can get marital counseling on a day's notice. If I need food, I can call a church and they'll have a list of local food banks and help agencies. If I want to help with something, I can walk in, offer myself, and be sent to do something useful for the community in short order. If I'm pagan, I can't do any of those things.

She also missed, quite frankly, having a building. She agreed that one didn't have to have a building in order to worship, but she argued that buildings become community centers, and thus serve to bring people together, and that they also serve as places that members can give the gift of devotional art, long a satisfying spiritual experience. Gardens! she said. Even the Shinto priests have gardens. And there's no place for monasticism in paganism, so there are no retreat places. She feels that our rejection of monasticism, in whatever form, is a mistake.

She also pointed out the lack of older people in the pagan community - my Aunt Judy is no spring chicken - and suggested that part of this lack is our faith's serious lack of a service structure. Older people get a lot of their needs met through churches, she said, whether it's a community, company, delivered meals, or even a minister to show up every week and pay attention to them. That's why a lot of them stay in churches even when they might not necessarily believe the dogma. Paganism has a lot less to offer them than, say, the Catholic Church.

Of course, I had to bring up how many folks came to paganism after being somewhat religiously abused by harsh doctrines; they may see the concept of structure and buildings and Meals on Wheels as far too intertwined with harmful dogma to ever be separated. Her brow furrowed. Do you mean that most pagans are just reacting against their upbringings? she asked. Religions structured on rebellion against something, rather than being open to whatever is good, generally don't last very long. Then she grinned. With the possible exception of the Satanists, that is. But eventually you have to get over it.

Aunt Judy has joined a Quaker church now, and is happy. She still practices Tarot and astrology, and keeps a little goddess altar in her room. She's casually tossed off that she might look into the pagan community again someday....when we've grown up a little, she implies. I wish her well, and I hope she's found her place. Her cogent points did not shake my faith in my religion, but they did spotlight a number of big holes in its practice. Of all the people I know who call themselves pagan high priests or high priestesses, perhaps five percent do anything near the amount of religious scut-work performed by the average English Anglican vicar, or Brooklyn rabbi, or even the cheery old Methodist minister who served our family while I was growing up. And even with the question of stealth, I know more out pagans than I do in the closet ones.

Sometimes I feel like our religion is going through an extended adolescence, and it doesn't want to grow up. Part of this may be the all-too-young demographics of most pagans....I'm old enough now to remember the battles over child care at pagan festivals two decades ago, back when it seemed most pagans were college-age, and a few had just started to have families. Part of it may be that we've embraced, as a group, the archetype of the Youth, and are still warily coming to terms with what a community with as many Elders as Youths would look like. Would all those Elders start telling those Youths what to do, I can almost hear people thinking as a knee-jerk reaction. Would they start trying to Curb Our Freedoms? Would they try to Make Us Work? Would they start, God/dess help us, passing a Collection Plate for Maintenance on the Temple Roof? Or talking about Pagan Nursing Homes? What a Major Bummer!

Every day, though, my teenage daughter gleefully tells me how many new grey hairs I've grown. People who look like I once did have started to show up on my doorstep and treat me like I was....an Elder. I'm not sure what I think of this, or what's the best way to handle it. I'm beginning to think that it will be up to those of us with the grey hairs to build the buildings and set up the service projects, among ourselves. And maybe, somewhere along the line, the Youths will start to nose around, hungry for the satisfaction of Meaningful Work, drawn by the sound of people Making A Difference In The World.

And maybe I'll let you carry some boxes. Because my back is aching, and I cannot shoulder the work of dragging this community kicking and screaming into adulthood alone. ("2004", 2, "Raven Kaldera")

Thank You Friends!

To my local friends here in Las Vegas

Thank you so much for a lovely, amazing, fantastic Saturday Night Fight!!

I am so happy I was able to create the kind of atmosphere that was comfortable and welcoming.
I had so much fun with you I can't wait to do it again!

The final count stands at:
2 Chi-Xolos
2 Pit Mixes
1 St Bernard
1 German Shepherd
2 Kids
10 Adults... at least their driver's licenses say so...

I am hosting the next IFC and Swim Party.... er..... Bryant, when is that again??

Love to you all, thank you for a wonderful evening

Comic Book Tattoo

Here it is, finally.

 

Comic Book Tattoo

 

Josh I Miss You.

I'm Not Livin to be the Mrs.

You can bring your dog
I got three
He can play the wolf for the evening
If you were to get lost behind these locks
Ain´t that a good thing
Ain´t that a good thing
Ain´t that a good thing ´cause

I´m not makin´ any promises
I´m not livin´ to be the Mrs.
I´m not makin´ any promises honey
But you still got that somethin´ pretty boy
You still got that somethin´ as a man
You still got that somethin´
Of this I know
Of this I know

That one fancies herself
as a black lab
I hear that your old flame
is a pure breed
Me? I guess you could say
I´m a Siamese
Ain´t that a good thing
Ain´t that a good thing
Ain´t that a good thing ´cause

I´m not makin´ any promises
You´ll be too busy boy
to sue her for damages
I´m not makin´ any promises honey
But you still got that somethin´ pretty boy You still got that somethin´ as a man
You still got that somethin´
Of this I know
Of this I know

You can bring your dog anytime
You can bring your dog
You can bring your dog
You can bring them all
You can bring your mom
Bring your dog
Baby Baby Baby
Please now
Bring your love

New Tattoo

 

The Design  

 Yes, it does hurt

Fresh Ink   

Blue Gerbera Daisy with Aries Symbol in the Center

24 hours old - the light blue is coming in!

 

“Nasty Bad Pagans” – Kathy Lee Gifford Hate Speech

On Wednesday, June 25, 2008, during a live broadcast of a wedding reception on the TODAY Show, Kathy Lee Gifford gratuitously referred to Pagans as "nasty, bad Pagans." Ms. Gifford's hate speech has done harm to American Pagans' ability to live in peace with our neighbors of other faiths. By allowing her hate speech to be broadcast, her direct employer the TODAY Show, and their network, NBC, participate in that hate speech.

I am completely appalled that NBC has stooped to this level. This woman enslaves Asian and South American children and then turns her nastiness on Americans.

NBC, loose the trash and fire the hill billy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a petition calling for, at the very least, an on-air apology. A TODAY Show program devoted to dispelling misconceptions about Pagans and Paganism would go a long ways toward undoing the damage..

Clicking the link below will take you to this petition:


http://www. thepetitionsite. com/1/quotnasty-bad-pagansquot-protesting-hate-speech-on-nbc


Clicking the link below will take you to the site to view the video:

http://today. msnbc. msn. com/id/21134540/vp/25368216#25368216

My Summer Solstice (aka Litha)

This weekend was a holiday for people of the pagan persuasion.  It is my second Litha in Las Vegas, and once again, I am not the responsible Priestess hosting and leading the ritual celebration.

Instead, I celebrated Litha honoring the people and things that are special to me. 

On Friday night, after recovering from my devastating fall in the shower, I spent the evening with some really wonderful friends at a really fun party.

Saturday was fun at CostCo and a fabulous dinner with my best friends.  We went on our walk around Desert Shores - where they live - and we played our traditional game of dominoes.  I forgot how much I love the lake and that walk.  When I first landed in Las Vegas, it was Erik & Sherry who made me feel welcome and who I bonded with.  Our weekly dinners and walks were the corner stone of my first summer in Vegas.

Paul came with us on our walk.  It's funny how I seemed to have forgotten life before Paul.  I forgot that my walks with Erik & Sherry came well before Paul.  It was a lovely Litha on Saturday.

On Sunday, Paul and I spent some time with a great friend out on Lake Mead.  We took his boat on the lake and had a picnic out on the water.  I made chicken salad and mixed fruits and crusty bread.  We sipped tea and water and sodas and floated.  We jumped off the stern and swam in the most refreshing water!  It was so blissful!  I got the best picture of Paul!

Archie Sings BowWow

Archie Sings BowWow
http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf

Archie & Paul

Archie & Paul Howling
http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf
 

A Year & a Day in the Life of a Red

In December of 2006, I threw a tremendous tantrum to show the world just how pissed off I was and how I wasn't going to take it anymore. Actually, the tantrum began sometime in October and reached it's pinnacle right around the middle of December.

In any event, the crowning moment of the tantrum transpired at a strip-mall-hair-franchise and the words "cut it all off" spilling from my angry mouth. The minimum wage stylist added her opinion (in a hybrid language somewhere between Russian, Armenian and English) on how great I would look if I colored my hair, "Copper, I think, yes you look good Copper."

It just so happened the WalMart across the street had a $2.99 box of color with the word "copper" in the description, and away I went.

I dove right into the pit of Red after more than 15 years as a tried and true blonde. In a matter of 3 hours, I disappeared from the world. By the time I left my garden apartment post-color, not a single person noticed me, or looked in my direction. My dog couldn't look at me. Since his birth, his mother had been a pretty blonde lady – he had no idea who this dark haired stranger was. My best friend avoided eye contact when he first saw the newly coppered Onagh. Everyone was amazed.

At first, I was a little stunned – I wandered around in a daze as people simply ignored me. Women looked right through me, men stared right past me. Even young children failed to notice me. I had become invisible.

For the first time in my adult life, I experienced the normalcy of the non-blonde.

I moved to Vegas, and where I could not get past the first interview as a blonde, as a red, I was offered a job at the first meeting. I had forgotten that blonde equates to stupid in the real world. I discovered an entirely new way of living. I was incognito, I was under cover, I was a Copper Fox!

I spent a year and six months as a red. It was strange and different. There was almost an "otherness" to the life I was leading. As if I had left my former life, and been transported into the body of this other person, this non-blonde.

This Red made decisions about my life that I never could have made on my own. When the Audio Thief returned, she rousted him from my psyche like a Dorm Mother on crack. When my old habits returned, she calmly shewed them away like dust bunnies from under the bed.

I found a hair stylist at a fashionable day spa who understood red and all it's complexities, most specifically the dreaded fade! He maintained Red in perfect golden and copper tones required of the Copper Fox.

Eighteen months went by – not a very long time – but long enough to forget the blonde.

And then, at a recent hair appointment, I found myself telling Johnny, "I can't stand the fade, I need serious highlights". Due to my ever creeping grey hairline, it becomes harder and harder to keep the red, red and the grey gone. And so, once again, I release control of my destiny to the person who stands at the ready with color bowl and applicator brush to transform me.

As Johnny was drying my hair, this stripped, blonde-copper-red tapestry hanging from my scalp, he looked in the mirror at me, and had the most perplexed look. "Why does this look so natural on you?"

I didn't know what to say. I was so surprised myself. I stared at the mirror and quietly said to myself "Oh it's you again".

I very calmly turned to Johnny and told him my deepest most California-sun-bleached of secrets. I confessed to my hairstylist that for over 15 years I was a blonde.

His eyes got as big as saucers and then squinted at me as he laughed his wicked little giggle. I could see behind his squint what he was thinking: another blonde hiding out in a red head's life, a dish water trying on the brunette for size.

I didn't see anyone after my transformation back to blonde. It was late in the evening by the time I encountered any of my regular friends. Archie was so glad to see me. He greeted me with an unusual amount of kisses and tail wagging. He stares at me a lot more lately. Most of the people who are seeing me as a blonde for the first time all have the same surprised look – as if they knew I was blonde all along.

So I start a new phase of "Life in Vegas" as a blonde. I have to wonder how much the next eighteen months contrasts the last. Only time, and a constant supply of bleach, will tell.

Always the Bad Guy… er.. Girl

In every relationship, I inevitably come out as the Bad Girl. No matter what happens, no matter how much I 'let go' or how often I 'just let it slide', in the end, I am the Bad Girl for getting angry when I have had enough. Every negative emotion, statement, or state of being in the relationship is my fault when I stop 'letting go'. Because, after all, how dare I stop 'letting go'. I am the easy going girl who lets it all slide. It's all good, baby.

Maybe it really is Eternal Sunshine of the Spottless Mind :

I can't see anything that I don't like about you.
But you will! But you will. You know, you will think of things. And I'll get bored with you and feel trapped because that's what happens with me.

I can not escape this pattern. Despite my owning my own shit, I consistently choose men who are incapable of owning anything, let alone their own emotional and psychological shit. It's frustrating as hell, because on the surface, or rather, in the beginning, it all appears to be quite stable. And then…. And then six months into it, every single solitary thing that is bad or negative or whatever, is laid at my feet.

I thought I had put a moratorium on rescuing injured animals and lost boys. I thought I had torn off Wendy's dress and told Peter to get the fuck out. Then I wake up one day and discover that Peter is slouched on the sofa drinking a beer and watching football or Nascar, or cartoons. How in the hell did that happen? Then I kick Peter out and I'm the bitch for causing the dumb bastard to be homeless. I just don't get it….. and I probably never will.

The Staggering Presumption of Love

Do any of us,
except in our dreams,
truly expect to be reunited with our hearts' deepest loves,
even when they leave us only for minutes,
and on the most mundane errands?

No, not at all.

Each time they go from our sight we,
in our secret hearts,
count them as dead.

Having been given so much, we reason,
how could we expect not to be brought as low as Lucifer
for the staggering presumption of our love?

Stephen King, The Dark Tower VII "The Dark Tower"

Mauprat

 

Do not think that I am full of virtues and noble qualities, as the abbe pretends;

I love, that is all;

but I love strongly, exclusively, steadfastly

-George Sand, Paris 1837

March 23, 2008

My Sin Eater

It is always in the darkest hours of the night that these thoughts take form and I release them into the ether of the internet. Tonight's dark creatures take the form of the Sin Eater. (Look it up on Wikkipedia)

This thought train began because my dear sister came to visit. Well, no, that is not entirely true. This thought train began 5 years and 3 months ago, approximately 2 blocks from where I sit, in the shadows, typing these dark thoughts. Because 5 years and 3 months ago, I ran away and hid from the world in the hopes that the cancer would simply eat me, swallow me whole and end my miserable existence.

Instead, the Audio Thief threw me out of his house and sent me back to Los Angeles.

So when my dear sister came to visit, I was able to show her my secret hide out for the first time. Suddenly, the story of my demise had form and contextual reference. For the first time, my sister could see that 'behind the waterslide and down the hill where heaven reaches' was a very real and tangible place. She finally understood where I was on the night when 'land and time is left to float away'.

As I pondered the information from her point of view, I wondered how I managed to escape that mental and emotional breakdown. The Audio Thief who threw me out of that house and sent me back to Los Angeles for the required surgery, is now lying in a hospital bed himself, at Las Vegas UMC Hospital. He has been in an incapacitated state since November. His dog, who sat with me, lovingly sprawled at my side, be it sofa or bed, died two weeks ago. The cause was cancer to the throat. I, on the other hand, seem to get healthier by the day. In fact, since I have moved to Las Vegas, my health and my life have improved considerably.

So I sit and wonder. And I wonder. Was my illness, like a sin, eaten? Was that festering cancer ingested, swallowed whole and drank down with a six-pack of sale priced American beer? Did the very act of love and companionship given to me by that beautiful Hound result in the absorption of my cancer?

I went to see him. Before this latest turn of events, I went to the hospital on my way home from work one afternoon. I went because I thought he was dying then, and the notion of the sin eater had not yet crossed my mind. He did not know who I was when I walked in the room … or maybe he did. In any case, the impression I was left with was that this was a temporary condition. I was furious as I left the hospital, thinking it was yet another false cry of Wolf. I drove home in disgust.

Then I got the Instant Message late one week night, that he was back in the hospital and this time it was for good. There was no way he was recovering, yadda yadda yadda. I had actually begun to toss the notion of a visit around in my head. Should I? Shouldn't I? Back and forth. Somehow, I think I was hoping that while I tossed the notion, wasting time with each toss, he would either get better and go home or simply slip away in the middle of the night. Then I wouldn't have to worry about going or not going to the hospital.

Now, with the notion of the sin eater bouncing off the walls of my mind and invariably banging up against the Vault door, I fear a visit. I've read the folk-lore and the cultural significance of the sin eater. I have to assume that the disease eater works in much the same manner. There is nothing in the folk lore regarding the deceased miraculously rising from the grave, thereby justifying the Watcher's sixpence, and encountering the sin eater. No one talks about what may or may not happen.

What remains now is that I am free. The sin eater, or the disease eater, ate my disease 5 years and 3 months ago in the house with the waterslide and set me free. And let's face it, this may be Las Vegas where you take a gamble, but there are some risks, some bets, I am just not willing to make. So until I can shake this notion of the sin eater from my psyche, I will remain apart from that hospital bed and the man who threw me out of the house will not receive a visit from me.

Yes, it's selfish, but like I said, this is Vegas, baby.

Un-Packing

As I unpack yet another box, my hands wrap around another piece of an old lover, long since gone from my life.

"You move a lot" My sister's voice echoes through my head.

Yes, I think , I have to move a lot. It's the only way to shake them lose, to pry them out of my life, so that all that is left is a fragment of the "We" that used to be "Us".

Maybe they were only a part of me for a week, a month, a day. But with the unwrapping of paper and bubble wrap, there is another piece of him, or him, or oh yes… I remember him. I realize I only keep the fragments that remind me of happier times. Of times before I got mad, or bored or simply lost interest. The trinkets hold the shiny fascination that they, themselves, can not hold onto over time.

So a new house, a new life, old memories. I look around and see that my chatchkies are simply pieces of them that have lingered. Or maybe it is simply the pieces that I can tolerate. Who really knows the inner workings of a mad-woman's mind.

A Year and a Day

January 1, 2008

In seven days, I will have been in this desert for one full year. January 8 will be the poignantly significant "year and a day".

For one full year I have refrained from magick and all things "witchy". Until last night, New Year's Eve, I have not even thrown a tarot spread. No rituals, no spelling, no mixing, no candles. A true hiatus from religion and magick.

As the anniversary comes near, and the hiatus wanes, I am slowly recognizing the return of magick into my life.

On Yule (December 21 for the Muggles or Mundanes), driving home from a Vegas Show with my Heathen Friend, we encountered Coyote at the Crossroads at exactly midnight. The significance is really quite shocking, for a number of reasons. Those who know me understand what I am talking about here. Those who don't, well….. <shrug>

On December 27, 2006, Coyote ran with me across the desert as I drove back to Long Beach to pack my belongings and prepare for the move to Las Vegas. It was an optical illusion of distance and movement, but the effect was that Coyote appeared to be walking by my side as I drove along the highway. A year later, Coyote is standing at the crossroads just outside my gated community – another message.

When I first got here to the desert, I felt lost and abandoned by my Gods. As if in leaving my beachfront I had left my Deities behind, tied to the tides, as it were. For months there was no sign of life from the other side. The Christian YVHV made several attempts at contact, but His dutiful followers made sure I never entered his Temple. Which is just fine by me…. Really. I guess, in retrospect, even my Deities were intent on enforcing the strict "year and a day" policy.

just tell your
Gods for me
all debts are off this year
they're free to leave
yes they're free
to leave

On January 8, I will have to decide where I want to go. I left Long Beach and Wicca behind. I traveled as far as I could down that path. Going forward, I need to decide how I will practice my Craft, and how I will worship my Deity. Hekate has made her presence felt this past month. It is with both shock and awe that this year, the eve of the new moon falls on January 7 and the New Moon on my one year and one day anniversary, January 8. Clearly, it has been the Queen of the Witches, Hekate, who has been closely watching over me this past year. And in true Hekate fashion, she has done so quietly and at an extreme distance.

 

The Commandments of Coyote

The Commandments of Coyote

Originally Posted by Ocean1025 over at http://deafpagan.com/author/ocean1025/

 

1. Thou Shalt Have As Many Gods and Spirits and Personal Trainers and Gurus As You Like Before Me, But You Shalt Not Let Them Block the Exits, and More, You Shall Not Permit Them To Take the Last Beer, For That Beer Is Mine. Seriously. Don't.
   
2. Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Wife, But Thou Art Totally Welcome To Admire Her Ass When She Walks By, and If It Happens To Come Out That They Are In An Open Relationship, Dude, Tap That Ass As Much As They Are Willing To Allow. Same Goes For the Ladies. Coveting Is Sort Of Stupid, But Sex Is Just Plain Fun, Unless Thou Art Doing It Entirely Wrong.
   
3. If Thy Neighbor Says 'Hands Off My Wife, Dude', Thou Shalt Listen and Back Off, Because Otherwise, Thy Neighbor Will Be Totally Justified In Hitting You About the Head and Shoulders With Gardening Tools, and Don't Think That I'm Going To Step In There and Stop Him.
   
4. Adultery Is Actually Pretty Fun. Commit It All You Like. Just Make Sure Everyone Is Cool With It, Or I Will Not Help You Out Once the Hitting Gets Started.
   
5. Thou Shalt Not Eat Poisoned Bait. If You Do, Don't Come Whining To Me About It, Because I Am Very Unlikely To Care. Once It Is In Your Mouth, It Is Your Problem, Not Mine.
   
6. Of Course Thou Shalt Kill. Carnivores Do That. Also, Swatting Mosquitoes, Sort Of Instinctive. But All Creatures Are Alive Before You Kill Them, and So Thou Shalt Respect Them In Their Lives and In Their Deaths. Thou Shalt Not Kill Without Reason. Thy Neighbor Tapping Thy Wife's Ass? Is Not A Reason. Don't Make Me Set A Plague Upon Thy Ass. Thou Wouldst Not Enjoy It, I Promise.
   
7. Thou Shalt Not Hoard. Seriously, Here. If You Have Enough, Share. Only Assholes Would Be Selfish.
   
8. Thou Shalt Not Be A Martyr. If You Have One Beer, Drink It. Do Not Give It To Me and Then Expect Adoration. Dude, That Was Your Beer, I Did Not Break Your Arm To Get It. Give What You Can Give, and Expect Neither Praise Nor Worship. You Are Not Being Morally Superior, You Are Being A Decent Human Being. There Is A Difference.
   
9. Assume This Is It. Maybe There Is Reincarnation; Maybe Not. Not Only Am I Not Saying, Please Consider the Fact That I Probably Get A Say In Whether You Come Back, and If You Are the Sort Of Person Who Doesn't Do Anything With One Life, Why Should I Waste My Time Giving You Another One? Live Like You Get No Second Chances. You Will Have More Fun.
   
10. Are You Going To Eat That?