Things I Must Remember

Tags

Baron, biography, cooking, pagan, paganism, Pomba Gira, recipe, remember, spirituality

6-25-2012 ~took Baron his offering. Took two spoonfuls of dirt from his Chateau to be a base for his dirt. Realized why he invited the colony of bees to live in the Chateau (home security system!)

~moving pots to refresh dirt and replant and found a fist-sized toad in his burrow. He ran off for some rotten wood before I could snap a picture.

6-26-2012 ~Today I have coveted a toad’s burrow. I have an overwhelming desire to burrow naked down into soft dirt and mud. Buuuuurrrrrrrooooooowww.

6-27-2012 ~I dreamed, but it was a dream of a book. As I read, it came to life. Strange.

~Ah, what a fine line to tread. And a reminder that he really doesn’t need any of the pretties.

6-28-2012 ~Coincidences line up. The feelers are out there, I just need to learn how to use them deliberately.

6-29-2012 ~Strong, strong desire to buy a high-quality flat-top solid wood coffin and use it as an altar. Or a coffee table. Or a spare bed. (Haven’t decided yet.)

7-1-2012 ~Claira Jean. This is important. Please remember.

7-4-2012 ~Huh. Reading Scarlet Imprint’s Pomba Gira book and …. thinking.

7-5-2012 ~It occurs to me that the mysterious chicken killer may be a teething chupacabra.

~Four Thieves Vinegar made with garlic (Elephant and a mysterious softneck strain, grown in sacred ground [composted offerings and a small amount of my grandmother's ashes] and pulled yesterday), rosemary (fresh from my grandmother’s rather large tree), bay (dried from a family friend’s tree), and red peppers (dried and hot, but not the tiny Peppers of Mass Destruction that Baron got in his rum). Cleaned the garlic and put it in a jar, whole, with apple cider vinegar (Heinz brand, but half of it was well-aged and sweet smelling). Currently sitting in my fridge gettin’ all yummy and stuff. [This batch is less get rid of enemies and more get rid of infections because, frankly, I think we're gonna need it since 3 out of 4 people on this property have a compromised immune system at the moment. Here's hoping it tastes good.]

~Incredible craving for sushi ended up netting Baron some Baron-brand chocolate, a small pretty wooden box, a large footed (insanely cheap) platter with a design that reminds me of a tree, and two red taper candles molded to look like roses. Yep, I definitely know what happened.

~HEXENCOOTER.

7-6-2012 ~Rosa Caviera. [Stepping in the dance, we move ever onward to the tune that sings unseen and the Labyrinth that opens at our feet. I may walk blindfolded but I walk with confidence.]

~Made Baron’s dirt. Started with his half-burned tobacco ground to powder. Next, the leftovers from the long-ago pepper rum, also ground. Then the dirt from the Chateau, powdered. Then the ashes from filter papers and the scratcher [soaked in cologne and the pepper rum] ground as fine as possible. Heavy pinch of pipe tobacco, not ground. Dried roses, crumbled. All mixed together. Then the wet ingredients- pepper rum, the spiced rum, some skull-head tequila, cologne, and BPAL Port-Au-Prince, shaken together then poured over, moistening the rest. Sitting on altar to ripen (it smells so different than it’s parts, but in a wonderful wonderful way).

~Painted the lid of the dirt jar. Waiting for everything to dry before I seal it up.

Things I Must Remember

Tags

Baron, biography, dead, graveyard, pagan, paganism, remember

6-16-2012 ~Strange dreams. Bears (black and grizzly), a plethora of goats, two pigs (one friendly spotted, one with Predator-like mandibles O.o ), a buffalo, a bobcat, all trying to get in the front gate (bobcat and black bear spotted first- “Holy sheeeeeyit, closethegateclosethegateclosetheGATE!”) which was all accordian-y and floated in the air- managed to get the center shut and locked but the ends were stop-gapped with plyboard. Dad running through with gun yelling to keep ‘em pinned so he can shoot (yeah, I’ll keep them pinned with a flimsy sheet of particle board! Great idea dad! Oh shit GRIZZLY!!!!), strange goats flooding the place (ooo, a ram! and some pretty babies! Just let those in! And the pig- er, maybe the one without the crabface? Awesome!). And then the meat eaters realized that they could just go around the board….

~More strange dreams. Living on some sort of space ship, I think, and I’m a male, engineered bio-robot sort of thing specifically designed to eat the small representations of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse that cropped up (I got to fly. Was awesome.) If these mini-evils were allowed to procreate, they’d buff up into a super evil that others saw as a woman but I saw as a dot with bands around it (think old-school atom models). Once everybody found out I wasn’t human they didn’t like me but couldn’t kick me out because then they would die. Oh, and there was an entire wing of the ship-place filled with water.

~Even more strange dreams. Somewhere in between and around those two I was the beloved of the Goblin King (in space, no less) (It wasn’t actually me but I was riding the girl in question), and did something to royally piss him off. I ~think~ he had hurt me somehow first, so I put on a show and sang some sort of song about him that painted him in a less than stellar light. Not certain. But it was fun when he wasn’t unholy pissed at me. (Small figurines were also involved. I had made one of him and a bunch of other people, including two that were walrus-y Molochs. Painted but unfired so they kept chipping.)

~Verdict? No more rum before bed. It does weeeeeird shit.

~You have a tick on your dog and the vaseline trick isn’t working, but you don’t do cigarettes? Go get a piece of stick incense and burn that sucker. Works a treat, though the smell of singed dog hair, burnt tick, and Nag Champa was a wee bit strange XD

6-17-2012 ~Mom had weird dreams too, same night as my Space Voyage Con Animal Planet. Apparently I should avoid slender black and white not quite serpent or eel looking things next time I play in a ditch. Duly noted.

6-18-2012 ~moved preying mantis to rosebushes (so cute!)

~went to scrub gravestones in early afternoon. Started with great-grandma. Turned it from rust colored ick to granite. Scrubbed her neighbor since she needed it too. Rinsed clean of vinegar, then final-rinsed with specially scented water. Repeated with grandmother and her neighbor (saw little red-eyed jumping spider. Went awwww!). Repeated with child-uncle (some stole his broken urn since the last time. Fuckers.) Shared his sweet-scented water with other children in his row. (I’m guessing they all play together, so why not?) {Not forgotten, my loves, not forgotten. Cleaned and nourished with fresh clean water and cleansing wash and protected under the auspices of Baron and of me.}

~CELEBRATE! WITH BOOZE! BECAUSE I CAN!

6-20-2012 ~toasted Sylv with the last of the spiced rum. [I miss you dearheart. I miss you so much.] Happy fucking solstice, right? (Y’know, for once I would be perfectly happy to not have the symbolism be heartbreakingly accurate, ok?)

6-21-2012 ~Hmm. I dreamed I had sex with a moth (as a moth) last night.

~I tried. For good or ill, I tried. Now to see how the bones will fall…

6-22-2012 ~went for walk. Tried several times to dig for wild morning glory roots. Failed (2 feet down and no signs?! No wonder they’re expensive!). Boyfriend warned about jimsonweed. Still lopped it off. Found what looked like a spined pot plant. Identified as Xanthium spinosum, Spiny Clot-Bur (NOT burdock).

~Tried to light match to light candles with. Refused to light. Finally lit, only to have the head break off mid-strike and fly 5 feet away to inflame my couch. Am really really hoping that it was just a one in a million shot and not a sign that someone/something is highly pissed at me.

6-23-2012 ~Last night I lit 3 sticks of mini-incense. One for a specific purpose, one for “everyone” in general, one for whomever I pissed off. First one burnt like normal. Other two refused. Moved them down to bedroom. Second burned well on His altar (need to get lighters again.) Third refused until boyfriend used his Zippo (that blew out before we could get it to light the first time). Set it up to finish burning. Woke up and it was STILL NOT FINISHED. I lit it with his Zippo and it finally finished.

6-24-2012 ~I think I wanna be a trollwife.

Things I Must Remember

Tags

Baron, biography, pagan, paganism, remember, strange

6-4-2012 ~So many books and good coincidences, and more secrets learned [defanging secrets is a good practice, I've found.]

6-5-2012 ~I Ching before appointment was accurate [What will the doctor say today?] [How much you wanna bet you're gonna lose the tonsils, hmmm?]

~Strained Goop through mesh strainer, set up paper filter to drip overnight [dipped out a ladle-full to go on altar], wore smear of it on forehead to bed

6-6-2012 ~Mmmm, the joys of Venus.

~changed filters on the Goop to get the last little bit to go through. Debating straining the ladle-full from altar into the general batch.

~Left the glass-full on altar. Bottled majority of (crystalclear bloodred) Goop into gin bottle; remainder in white-capped brown glass bottle in fridge [note to self- invest in ritual funnels]. Alcohol-based holy fluid hurts when accidentally spread onto open cut.

~PLEASE NOTE that Venus did her Thang with the sun yesterday, and that all this rosy stuff conglomerated just in time for it.

6-9-2012 ~Purchased chocolate cigar for Baron; put it in his little stone coffinbox. Starting the rum tonight [Thank you for services rendered on behalf of a friend.]

6-11-2012 ~Ok, I bought it for you, now what do I do with it? O.o Do I dare use it, or should I just keep it as a pretty? [Note- scritched it for him, found nothing. Ah well, better luck next time my dear. Since it's his I think I shall burn it and add the ashes to his dirt that I really should get started making someday soon. {This requires graveyarding!}]

~washed myself clean of impurities; anointed with holy water, pepper rum, blood thickened on the altar for five days [it blooms like scarlet sin], red red water, and a generous splash of Snow’s Florida water [need to find the commercial stuff and compare; if I like homebrew better I'm going to have to hunt down a recipe and start tweaking -.- ] all mixed together and poured all over. My eyes are clearer and my lips tingle.

~rosemary as part of mix for graveyard offering fluid? [You are remembered, long after I am dead and gone. You are remembered.]

~note to self- start pondering how you’re going to make some holy washes for everybody [what goes in where and so on and so forth]

6-14-2012 ~Why hello J.C., fancy meeting you here. I think I’ll put you up there next to Our Lady of Grace until I get some more space and finish your lovely lovely book. [Baron I see your fingerbones all over this one. Thank you for making introductions, m'dear <3 ]

~Hand felt naked for the last time. Caved and bought a new one. Hopefully it lives longer than the last.

6-15-2012 ~Frothing rage down to a low boil. Liar. Liar. FUCKING LIAR. And this the third time, too. [Note- the irony. It buuuuuurns.]

~Note to self- never drink more than a shot with Baron because any rum he gets his hands on burns in a warm wave out every hole on your face (including eyes o.O ) and in a line down your chest, even when it is straight from the bottle and unmixed with the Pepper Death.

Gifts Freely Given, or Bribes In Disguise?

Tags

biography, Magic, pagan, paganism, rant, spirituality

What’s the difference between an offering in thanks and a preemptive bribe? Between a gift given to a spirit and a conditional offering? It’s something I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since the 5-25 incarnation of Things I Must Remember, more specifically the mini-entries for 5-20 and 5-21. Even more specifically, the quandary of Baron and His Lotto Scratchers.

[Before anyone gives me the stink eye, I do have a perfectly legitimate reason for very occasionally {as in, he's gotten a grand total of one so far} buying Baron a scratcher- he likes to gamble for actual money and that is the simplest way to do so when I haven't seriously played poker since I was 7 {my dad taught me and I wiped the floor for chocolate chips and mini cookies}. I plan on definitely getting him one every Fet Ghede as part of his presents. {Yes, I buy him "birthday" presents. Even skeletons like presents.} See? I have a reason!]

Now, any money that was won with one of his “birthday” scratchers would be his, of course. But what about a random one purchased because it was there and my ghede sense made grabby hands at it? An agreement has been made that winnings would go “halvsies”- half for him and half for me. (I’d love to make it all his but I gotta, y’know, eat and pay bills and all that crap.) This has got me thinking- what exactly would Baron use “his” money for? The first thing that popped into my head was rum, since I can only afford the occasional bottle and what I buy is fair game to my boyfriend as well. It would make sense to me that given free reign with money he would ensure his own private, off-limits supply of rum to be poured out every night, instead of for special occasions as is the current state of affairs.

This train of thought got me started pondering the nature of offerings and reciprocal relationships with spirits. Because, anything bought with “his” money wouldn’t… count, I guess. I mean, it would make him happy which is always a good thing, but it wouldn’t “up my credit” with him. That idea of a divine credit line based on how many offerings you give and how much booty-kissing you’re doing? Always struck me as inappropriate/icky/wrongwrongWRONG for long term work. Banking a few favors with a spirit that you have a situational relationship with (such as asking Hera to help you defend your marriage from an interloper) is one thing. Asking the being you interact with on a regular basis (such as the disembodied skeletal black man you share living space with) to do something because, goddammit didn’t you buy him the super spiffy cape and he totally owes you now? BEGGING for an ass kicking. A deserved ass kicking. [Honestly, I'm not certain I'd do such a thing with a "situational" spirit anyway. Even if I never interact with them again its plain politeness to be respectful. They have the power in this interaction buddy and owe you NOTHING, no matter how many correspondences are racked up and sweets laid out for them.]

I freely admit that I have a tendency to try to make others happy. I’m ~almost~ certain that there may be a woo-woo component to it (such as picking up a very specific thing years in advance of meeting the person it’s for, or thinking an item would be perfect for someone before I learned about how much they adore similar things.) This carries over to spirits’n'deities as well. I’ll pick little things up for Manannan, or Baron, or one of the other beings I interact with. I don’t get them stuff because I expect stuff in return. I get them stuff because I think they might like it, same way I’ll pick up a little something for my boyfriend if I think he’ll like it. I don’t expect it to obligate a return gift because that makes it an exchange, not a gift. If any relationship I have relies solely on an exchange of “gifts” it isn’t much of a relationship.

Now, if I ask for a favor I have no problem offering a bit of an enticement, especially if the favor is not vital and/or not for me personally. By asking for a bit extra I had better be willing to give a little more, as well. Its plain good manners. So, say a friend of mine asks for some assistance in a delicate matter. I may promise Baron extra rum, or a fine cigar, or something equally pleasing for his help, but that doesn’t require him to do it at all. And I don’t “punish” him by shorting his regular offerings or getting angry. You don’t do that to a friend, to someone that you respect and care for. He’s not mine to punish. He’s a friend with his own will and desires and if its important enough that he can’t be seduced into helping there’s probably a good reason why.

That’s something to remember, that these spirits and gods and dead folk are beings in their own right. There is no secret code that will make them do what you want when you want it. The most perfect offering in the world won’t work if they don’t care for you (or are, at least, willing to hear you out). Can you stack the deck in your favor, so to speak, with offerings and services and some really really tasty booze? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Its part of the reason gods can drive their followers batty by accepting nothing but the finest settings and foods and wine and incense from one person, and “slumming” it with a hotdog and a whispered prayer with another. Neither relationship is superior or inferior. Just different.

I’ve seen far too many new little devotees begging the “masters” for advice on what this god would like, what that spirit prefers, and hey could you design a ritual for me that he/she/it/they would really like? [God forbid they find A book or A website because THAT information becomes sacred writ.] This is where I see the most egregious use of the divine credit line theory. Honey, if all you have to bring to the altar is a pisswarm beer, stale Twinkies, and a incense stick that smells like an Avon graveyard in exchange for phenomenal cosmik powerz, all I can say is good luck and I hope you’re a chaote (or Eris likes you. Or both.) Human ideas of value do not necessarily transmit into spiritual ideas of value. [Please see any number of fairy tales where dinners served on golden plates turn into crapfests, but a single crust of bread shared at the right time saves the princess/kills the ogre/wins the day etc. etc. etc.] Gratitude and kindness are key words here babydoll. They speak across all modes of being.

Things I Must Remember

Tags

Baron, biography, dead, graveyard, pagan, paganism, remember

Lost several days to a reboot of my computer. Blah.

~At some point I added the rose petals to the Goop. Need to make cushion for Baron’s chair. And other stuff I have forgotten -.-

5-25-2012 ~Dreamed of snow. Woke up to HOLYFUCKINGHELLITSCOLD, with white clouds covering half the sky. [At least the wind is calmer?][Next time I read cards sooner...]

~el duende, the goblin wind. Remember, please.

5-29-2012 ~The offering fortune cookie given to the Little Grren Man? Not only jumped into my hand, but also had no fortune inside [yeah, I think he was finished with it.]

5-30-2012 ~Its the little things that line up together and near-shout “PAY ATTENTION MOFO”.

6-2-2012 ~I owe Baron and assorted spirits for helping find lost graves. Also gotta go back and scrub.

~Confirmed bee-hive in Baron’s Chateau. (I told you! Darn you not-listening graveyard persons!)

~remember where you found the three types of plums, the loquats, and the rowan (EDIT- may be true ash. Still need better identification and search for berries or flowers) in the rural graveyard. Also, willow in the Catholic graveyard.

~Kissed on the right-forehead by a yellow-jacketed wasp. (Same side as the wet kiss on the cheek last spring.) No sting, just a small kiss.

~Use #3892 for silverplate tea service stuff- a covered butter dish holds a Little Debbie fudge cake quite happily. [Hey, it was chocolate, I owed Baron, and anything uncovered gets eaten by ants or mice.] Also need to give Baron his thank-you rum.

Things I Must Remember

Tags

Baron, biography, pagan, paganism, remember, spirituality, strange

In case anybody is wondering at the posts with the same name, I’m starting up a sort of catch-all for random stuff that happens throughout the day, writing a bit about it as it happens in chronological order. I’ll probably post these about once a week, unless something better happens.

5-19-2012 ~Today I was wonked in the nose with a seed potato that did not rot. My blood dripped on the threshold of the garden, in between the onion patches and on the hose. (It was dripping very fast, from both nostrils [the left more than the right]) It also dripped on the golden tree necklace’s roots (some blood is still there)(yes yes I see, I understand, quit doubting you already. Message received loud and clear.) Bleeding stopped strangely fast, especially considering how I normally bleed from the nose. Some residual pain but no broken nose. Tightness in between eyes.

~Picked rosebuds from rose behind house, lavender leaves and buds, pomegranate petals (from fruiting tree, not the flowering one), rose petals from red bush near road, petals from red viola (both the main plant and the one that regrew from broken stem; please remember that this is post attempted-murder-of-main-pot), and miniature white rosebud from large mini rosebush. Drying on silver tray to be added to the pot [Stirred it and still smelled a bit too strongly of alcohol. Petals losing color {reminds me of wet toilet paper}, decide soon if you're using ALL or just some of the Petal Stash. Remember, those won't pulverize so shred 'em if you use 'em.]

~Tried to nap. Felt skeletal hands on my hips and read instead. (Nice to feel wanted, but nicer to lose let’s-try-to-bust-her-nose-with-root-vegetable-headache first.)

~While trimming recalcitrant mule, asked Baron to make it go easier and quicker so Dad could sit down. Mule only bucked once in the ropes (because foot was moved improperly) with the only casualties being Baron’s hematite ring (the replacement for the one broken and written about here) and an achy thumb (without the ring the rope could have broken it when mule jerked.) Found one piece (nearly a whole half- hopefully the mules don’t eat any other bits >.> ) and put it in Baron’s treasure box. Will look for more later. Remember to pour Baron a big glass full of rum spiked with his pepper stuff. {Note- ran out of rum, added about half a glass of vodka. Spiked liberally with the pepper stuff.} {Image of Jack Sparrow- But why is the rum gone?}

5-20-2012 ~saw $5 scratcher at gas station called “BLACK GOLD”. Made Baron grabby hands but did not have spare cash. Either get him one at Fet Ghede or as a random present during the year? (Afraid to promise that any winnings go to getting him stuff, for fear of hitting the jackpot and having to buy him a house to put his stuff in.) (Never make promises you can’t keep.) (You still have to decide how you’re naming your first kid after him, remember?)

~During the eclipse the light turned to Underground. I put out the dream so it could soak up the light and I watched the goblin grin while listening to the music. (Remember the snail shells, remember the dog’s tails, remember Manannan, remember Baron. Links on a chain you can’t see only feel.) Guidance (remember the black chickens!) is strange- for want of the egg smashing, I wouldn’t have taken a shower and wouldn’t have been ready for the eclipse. (Wanna go Underground….) Little floaty things floated, and a toad started croaking during the eclipse-proper. [Looked through the old helmet with cracks in the side- "The cracked shall let in the light."]

~STILL. PICKING. POTATO. DIRT. OUT. OF. MY. HAIR. AFTER. A. DAY. AND. A. SHOWER. WHATTHEHELL.

5-21-2012 ~Bought Baron spiced rum with a skull pattern on the bottle. Thanks to a series of fortunate events, the price was well within my means. Saw Lucky Hand beer. Must return for it. (Had a thought- if I give Baron dollars and change and such, and occasionally consolidate that into a scratcher [definitely bought for fun, not for winning], would he like that? {Need a suitable jar for such shenanigans.}) (Still worried about promising him the proceeds and hitting the jackpot.) (Why do I worry about this shit, anyway?)

~Staring at a Lady of Grace cheapie statue I bought and trying to decide who to repaint it for- Maman or The Lady of the Stars? (Say it with me now- nail polish is our friend!)

5-22-2012 ~Stirred the Rose Goop. Added the drying stuff from the 19th (lavender was only stuff not crispy-dry). Stared at it. Added pinches of shredded rose petals from Petal Stash (tall jars only)- petals smelled like aged tobacco, heavysweet. Decide soon if you’re adding the last red rose from from new bush or drying the petals before adding it to the Goop. [I like the living symbolism, but worried about the water in the petals throwing off my Goop and starting mold.]

~realized that while gods’n'goddesses can go solo, anything else has a slight tendency to get paired up around me (Damn the Libra scales!), even if it/they do not have a relationship outside of me. [Read your damn cards, woman, and start confirming shit since you ain't at the intuitive-spiritual-connection-level yet. Progress is good but you still need to install that spirit phone.}

5-23-2012 ~you dreamed about your friend during the night, and they made contact today.

~picked the single red rose from the front of the trailer and several rose/buds from bush behind house; set up to dry. Strained the Goop (saved solids to dry, powder, and make incense with), poured back into jar, and set up into cabinet to wait for final batch of petals [hoping it settles out into clearer {but still gorgeously colored} liquid; final straining will be through coffee papers]. Scent needs more roses but I am resisting “cheating” and pouring essential oil in it. {Bloom faster ye thorny devils!} Also, repeated deep inhalations of vodka based liquids may not have been the most intelligent thing I’ve done this week.

5-24-2012 ~read cards. Read lots of cards. Frowned at cards. Made faces at cards. Think I have a handle on the cards. Maybe. [Not Her, but me? Boy, is giving control up gonna be fun...]

Dead Children And Broken Rings

Tags

Baron, dead, graveyard, pagan, paganism, spirituality, story, strange

And thus do souls of children weep
For stories they shall never tell
And secrets they shall never keep.

I debated about sharing this bit, but I felt that sharing it would be better than keeping the idea all to myself. You see, three days ago the above bit of verse crawled into my head and stayed there. Today a broken ring sent me to the graveyard and I realized what it was for (both verse and ring).

The ring shattered into 4 fairly even pieces. It was a hematite ring I wore in honor of Baron that I only ever took off for really nasty jobs. I cracked it on a kiln shelf a few months ago but still wore it. I had been planning on going to the graveyard but I wanted to give Baron and the assorted dead folks something, and my go-to bakery was closed. So, when my ring broke I saw OFFERING in big shiny neon letters. Most of it now resides in the graveyard (if/when I ever move, the last bit will go there as well unless I get told differently)- one to the spirit-door hiding in the crack, one in the Chateau poked through the door, and one in the Queen as She dives Underground.

On my way back, I saw a familiar bunch of graves. If you’re just walking by, you may not realize what you’re looking at… until you start reading dates. The groundskeepers call it Babyland for a reason- far far too many headstones have no separate birth and death dates. Just one single day. Those that have different dates are rarely over 10 years old. Most are 5 or less.

Since I had nothing physical to give them this time (last time I was there I cleaned up palm fronds and dead branches on the graves) I gave them a story. It was my own slightly-cobbled-together version of Beauty and the Beast, featuring a music box I own. Once the story was finished, I promised the next time I came I would bring it, so they could see that it was true and hear the music that Beauty did.

Now, I am very very spirit-blind. I can’t see or hear or sense any sort of spirit very well at all. But once the story (frequent pauses, bad acting, and mild scrambling for the next bit aside) was finished, I felt at peace. So very very at peace. (And the ant nest I was sitting on apparently liked the story too, because they didn’t bite me at all.) So, the next time you’re in a graveyard and you see a child’s grave, stop a bit. Invite all the children to come listen, especially those who never had a chance to have someone tell them a story. Who never got tucked in with a soft voice murmuring a fairy tale to them. Tell them a story and spend a little time with them. I think they’ll appreciate it a lot.

Graveyard Tending

Tags

Baron, dead, graveyard, Magic, pagan, paganism, spirituality, story

(Sorry for the weird photo stretching, I hosted these on photobucket to save time and space.)

I had a little extra time today after work, so I spent an hour or so walking around the rural cemetery. I had my camera on me so I took a few (uh…. 40 >.>) pictures and learned some interesting things about the cemetery.

This particular cemetery is 7.3 acres right smack dab in the middle of town. Its behind the Catholic cemetery (I prefer the rural cemetery because its wilder, even though I have relatives in the Catholic cemetery), the hospital, and most of the “medical row”. I get chemo a block or two over from it. Unless you want to deal with the hospital’s emergency room and occasional ambulances, it’s far easier to go down a little side road. First thing you see is a large church (it’s a working cemetery, even if I tend to stay in the older portions) and a small white iron gate. I tend to park right in the middle by the head office because it has marked parking spaces. I always feel guilty parking in the cemetery on the little roads because I’m scared of blocking off other people, or pulling over too far and running over graves o.o

This is the awesome wooden cross for one Nathan Strong. This graveyard has woodpeckers that love hiding acorns and pecans in EVERYTHING. Close up the cross is like Swiss cheese. He tends to get a lot of candles; the second step from the cross is covered in wax drippings.

Bit of a panorama shot, pointed towards the “new” area. There are a lot of different trees and bushes, including a cool tree called an Osage orange which makes green nubbly fruit that squish out an awesomely mint green goo-juice. I stole a few fruits from the ground and I’m hoping they sprout!

The little tiny bird just about dead center is a hummingbird, who sang lovely little warsongs to me as I walked along the gravel road.

I was going to go take a picture of the Queen’s Oak (awesome old tree just about as big as the King’s Oak across the road from me) but I was sidetracked in (what I later learned) “Babyland”- the section where they bury infants and young children. I picked up several palm fronds off of the graves and toted them over to a pile of similar trash on the side of the road for the maintenance guys to pick up. I also found a busted water pipe too (hardly surprising with the hard freezes we’ve been having). I traipsed all the way back to the office to report it, and decided that since I was there I might as well go the other way.

I sit under the umbrella-shaped bush and feed the dead. (I also may have stalked the bluejay sitting on the monument behind it >.> ) They really like egg custard tartlets from the Chinese bakery

Awesome tree and the Boggs family pseudo-boulder monuments. This is one of my favorite photos out of the whole batch.

Another awesome tree, with a big hollow in the trunk. I wonder what you would find if you looked inside the hollow….

The Blossom grouping. One of my favorite ones. They even gave me a gift- a handful of tiny grey flight feathers, soft and lovely. Some of them are tipped in bright yellow.

Baron’s Chateau. I just realized what that palm tree looks like today XD

Close up of the Chateau. It even has a sidewalk going around it. Very awesome. (Can you tell why I think Baron lives there?)

The leaves are deep in places XD

I’ve left chocolate here for Brother before, and the tree that holds him.

A shot of Mausoleum Row. They’re spotted all over the older section but this area has its own little road and grass area. I found another busted water pipe, but this time I waited until I got back to my car to report it.

One of my verymostfavorite mausoleum doors.

I’m not gonna lie- I saw a black dog coming at me in a graveyard and jumped a bit. Then I realized it was a ChowChow, which is quite possibly the least threatening-looking dog breed I’ve ever met. She wouldn’t stay still for a picture so here’s a picture of her butt. I was a little worried until her people came along behind her. Apparently she really is a graveyard dog. She used to live in the graveyard until her people got her used to them, to the point of taking her home with them. They bring her back to visit from time to time. She certainly acted like she had places to go and people to meet.

One of these days I will have to take pictures of the cremated remains building and the half-a-rotunda, and the neat rows of war veterans, and the Baby’s Field, and all the other amazing things I find (according to a person I know, escaped parrots live in this graveyard O.o). I thought this was an acceptable beginning, at least. Next graveyard on my list is a little pocket one up the street that needs some love (and 90% dark chocolate).

Baron’s Holy Moly Rum

Tags

Baron, Magic, pagan, paganism, recipe

It's not holy WATER, that's for sure.

So, since about, oh, late October, early November I’ve been steeping some pepper rum for Baron. Not a lot because of rum-supply constraints, but enough to fill the adorable Crystal Skull Vodka mini leftover from Hallow Week. Plus a little extra, as you can see; the two hot-sauce bottles are in the freezer, to be used as mixers for future Baron drinks (if a glass of booze has a splash of this in it, I sure as hell ain’t drinking it). The shorter brown bottle (recycled essential oil bottle with a dripper insert) is for guerrilla acts of sanctification. Or possibly low-cost mace. The smidgeon left over will be added to a “clean the fuck out of the house” washbucket at some point in the near future (I cannot imagine any sort of bad crap staying around with the threat of getting this stuff in their eyes).

My recipe was not exactly traditional; to be honest, the only traditional bits were the rum (Crossed Keys!) and the peppers (2 kinds of insanely hot dried wild Mexican mini peppers, 9 of which were popped into the finished skull bottle). (Not that Mexican peppers are traditional but they were the hottest little bastards I could find, and BOY did they spice it up.) I also added a generous amount of ground black pepper (horrible joke), ginger (to up the heat even more [not that it really needed it, but overkill is fun]), and nutmeg (uh…. another not-so-horrible-but-still-silly joke).

This was all put into a small, clean jar and shaken every day or so, until Christmas Day, when it was decanted into the jars pictured with a Holy and Magical Turkey Baster. I learned three valuable lessons.

1) When you spill Baron’s Rum on your fingers, DO NOT LICK IT OFF. Failure to abide by this rule results in a mad dash for milk and sour cream.

2) When you get it on your hands, soap and water doesn’t remove it. I still tasted (mild!) pepper on my fingers several hours later, AFTER doing a sink-full of dishes.

3) It works as a pretty decent liniment. I could feel a pleasant warmth in the joints of my hands for an hour or so after decanting. It intensified when I put my hands in warm water.

The skull bottle will stay on his altar as a permanent offering. The other three will be used at some point unless he says different, the brown bottle especially- I have an inkling that it will go with me to some local graveyards in the not-so-distant future. Particularly the cemetery where his chateau resides (which is another post entirely). (Basically, there’s a really cool graveyard with really cool graves and a REALLY COOL crypt in a secluded corner complete with scraggly oak and big palm tree. Thus, the Baron’s chateau.)

Hallow Week 2011

Tags

Baron, pagan, paganism, spirituality

Thank to some lovely billing muck-ups with my insurance company, on Halloween I was playing catch-up to chemo (I wore a knitted fish hat as a costume. Funfun ). So, holy week started a day early, on the 30th.

A note- I start celebrations the night beforehand. Yet another reason to start on the 30th.

The Offerings-

The set of plates, bowls, and cup I made for ritual use. Once I get the specialized sets for specific spirts, this set will become solely for ancestor-use. The cutlery set came from Cost Plus World Market.

The candle is a longstanding offering. The black blob to the left is Baron's skull candle. The cup holds Crystal Skull vodka layered with cherry Torani syrup (for the dead). The plates and bowls are set up to prevent ninja ants from discovering the offering (chocolate-hazelnut hedgehog truffles), with a bowl to protect from flies. And my little hedgehog guards the offerings

The offering stood all throughout the week, to specific spirits, deities, and one extra for benevolent I-know-not-their-names. Baron got his own shot glass of Cross Keys rum and unspecified other (basically those not dead and not Baron) got honey whiskey in a brandy snifter.

Day 0 and 1-

The altar stayed the same for the 30th and the 31st- the day before the gates opened and the day the gates opened.

Everyone- all spirits, ancestors, deities, and incorporeal beasties- were invited for the Opening, even if they didn't get their own "day" later on. Basically a great big party with booze for all.

Pure atmosphereical shot.

Crossed bones and black candles open the way. White candles to honor the Dead. Plus a bunch of assorted Very Important doodads for Very Important people.

Day 2-

First of November. No pictures. This was a day for my close ancestors, the ones I knew and the ones that I’ve heard about ever since I can remember. It mostly involved a really old photo album and a weepy hedgehog girl.

Day 3-

Bon Samedi! The second of November!

Baron's doll with Baron's candle, new tapers, and some extra Baron tapers just for kicks.

Couldn't resist.

I bought this cute little skull and bone ice cube tray at a discount Halloween store. So, Baron got a skull cube in his rum. Pardon the fuzziness of the camera.

I went to work dressed in Baron colors, wearing skulls and bones around my neck and a death head grin on my face.

Day 4-

Third of November, a day for the land and the turning of the seasons. No pictures, minor altar changes.

Day 5-

Fourth of November. All my Dead and my Honored Ancestors got libations (and boy did we libate).

Day 6-

PAAAAARRRRTTTTTTAAAAAYYYYYYYY!

Finishing off the candle stubs. Everything dead gets invited back for one last shebang before I pass out for a while.

Day ?-

In a word? Cleanup. Finding suitable repositories for holy booze (sacred earth and graves of the beloved dead) and offertory candy (secreted in particular places around the agricultural fields around here suitable to who they were for).

****

And then? Then I slept for a LOOOOONG time.

So yeah, that was Hallow Week. With an unexpected loss; due to misguided care, I killed my Bird. I never even too a picture of her. I learned a very very sad lesson. Love can kill as easily as anything else. May I never have to learn it again. May I always remember so I do not cost another beloved their life.

Goodbye Bird. I love you. And I’m sorry. So, so sorry.