Goddess Journey Check-In:
How was your week been? Where has your journey taken you? What blessings have you been gifted? What challenges have you faced? What lessons have you learned? What do you need right now?
These are the questions asked by Great Goddess Leonie.
I’ve been reading her blog for a couple weeks now. I am very much into the whole stealth method of joining things lately. So much for the whole, I cannot hide, persona, eh? But then again, I don’t stay hidden. I do eventually come out from beneath the Shadow’s skirts to play.
Well, last week-end, as we all know from various blog posts, was a really bad week-end for me. Guess what. I survived it. Brain intact. Soul intact. Relationship intact. Kids unharmed. Lol
The week was much better. There were rocky spaces, to be sure. My offer of the beaver stick to my bff for other purposes seems to have come back to haunt me—as it may not be such a bad idea if he use it on me once in awhile to keep me on an even keel.
The beaver stick is just that, a stick I found by the river, chewed by beavers. It’s one of my Staffs. One end is wrapped in leather for decorative purposes that I never really got around to augmenting. The feathered staff has the bells and so on. This one, the beaver, does not. I prefer the beaver one, but the belled one does have its uses.
Now, the deal with the beaver stick is bff has an idiot for a gf—and she needs to be smacked in the head to help comprehension dawn—in a figurative manner, this smacking, now mind you. Not actually physically smacked in the head. Oh no. I do not condone nor recommend that—except in the most severe of circumstances. Well, ok, maybe this on does deserve it—but then again—I digress.
I finally came out to my one writers group again, re-introduced myself. See SoulFoodCafe. I am so very glad that I did too. Their feedback has always been wonderful and precious to me. Of course, this has to be one of my least productive weeks ever with my writing. Things have been rather rocky since the trip to WV to get the last of everything. About the time I was getting back together and on my feet, I get hit with last week-end.
The dawning magic inherent in my request for fearless true love is overwhelming some days. It is having the most unexpected results.
Some days I have to work harder than others not to look a gift horse in the mouth and to keep myself open to allowing things in.
Then again, I am sitting here typing, while my daughter riffles through my latest acquisition, ‘The Sumi-e Book by Yolanda Mayhall’, and I feed the goofy brown dog baby carrots. The dog loves them. My son runs in and out, giggling madly for no visible reason, jumps on the massage chair and jumps off again, then runs out of the room. So, everything here is pretty much normal. Lol
I wrote every single day this week, without exception. Even if most days that writing took place via email and IM-ing. I did it. When it’s in email and IM, I don’t count how many words, but I do know I well exceeded my 1000 words a day goal, every single day.
My key dolls are done. E says they look like little faeries. I hung them on the mobile yesterday. I secured the hanging thread with glue for extra insurance. I have since been waiting for that to dry (which means I could have done this any time since oh eight o’clock this morning which is roughly the time I got out of bed today) before trimming ends and making everything look nice and tidy. It’s just sort of tossed over a curtain rod at the moment, before I go in search of a hook so I can hang it from the ceiling in my son’s room. It didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to in my head—but I like the way it turned out. We’ll see when other people get here how they feel it looks. I myself am happy with it.
Remember Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, the little black tear drop shaped poppets I haven’t yet finished creating……..they’ve been quietly mentioning how much they would like it if I would come up with something for them too. Which reminds me. I do need to see if I can find a beading dvd here so I can watch someone do some art doll beading. I can read sites and read books all day. Until I see it done, forget it.
I sent the paperwork off for my LLC this week. Even though I have had it ready to send off for probably a week before that.
I finally started to send in reviews to this one site I have been meaning to send in reviews to—so I am hoping that has positive results.
I have been doing what I can to encourage other artists and writers, by commenting on their work, online and off.
Up until yesterday, because of my loving son, I did asana practise every morning—except that one day I took off. Last Tuesday I took off. I was still recovering from the week-end and other turmoil. I decided to skip Yoga and writing that day—even though I spent most of the day writing anyway. Skipped it today as well, the Yoga—even though I am currently planning on doing some this evening.
That’s also the day (Tuesday) the pipe in the sink in the kitchen decided it didn’t like doing its job anymore. I fixed it all by myself—with plumbers tape and –my temper. I was about to give up on getting the darn thing in place again, after quite a bit of time spent cajoling the pipe loudly trying to get it to cooperate. I finally smacked it in desperation—only to find out when I smacked it I smacked it right into place with just the right amount of force. I haven’t had a bit of issue with it since. Go figure.
I have not yet planted everything I need to plant. Heck, yesterday I had more bulbs come in. I found the baby boxwoods growing along the one perimeter out front where I was planning to stick my dwarf burning bushes. I really really need to mow my lawn—but it is cold and wet and I have no real desire to do anything right now—and lucky me, my excuse is I have no place to stick my lawn mower if ever I pull it out of my den anyway. (Please stop laughing at that. It just is not funny. Really.) The hedge roses were planted. The lilacs were planted. The climbing roses were planted. I took the biodynamic approach. Which for me means I didn’t cut their chances by overloading them by lining the holes with fertilized soil or mulch or anything. It means I stuck them right in the ground, into the dirt they are going to have to grow and thrive in. They may grow a bit more slowly the first year, but guess what, when they do take off they are going to be much healthier and happier because they know what their real soil is like.
And on an aside here, I darn near spent the time I planted the climbing roses—and the dwarf spruce my daughter picked out to replace the old Christmas tree that did not survive the transition from apartment to house—snarfing and chortling. Well, keep in mind, I was out there in my front yard, with a hand shovel, in a mild mist of rain, digging in the middle of my yard. Hehehe. The ex husband would have had a big ole cow over that, not just when I planted things but where and how. I have prepared not one flower bed. Not bought one bag of mulch. I have not even weeded. Nor do I actually plan to either. I don’t care what grows up under the bushes. I am hoping not to ever have to look up under the bushes. I plan to feed everybody now and then, just because that’s what I do. But other than that, let nature handle things her own way. I prune and I feed. Otherwise, the bushes grow on their own. But that spruce, I told my daughter to pick a spot anywhere in the yard, so long as it was not too close to the house and so long as it was not anywhere that I planned to plant anything else. She did. Not too far from the driveway, not exactly in the center of everything and nothing, but close. That is exactly where I planted it too.
My climbing rose bushes? I decided why should my neighbours be the only ones who get to see and enjoy these things? The backyard belongs to the dogs. I am not planting anything out there. I don’t see planting anything alongside the carport, mostly because there’s not a lot of room over there and there is a gate to worry about there as well. But why was all this so funny to me? I knew X1 would have pitched the biggest fit and then would have gone behind me and either dug everything up and put it in ‘the right’ place—or he’d have somehow managed to put a ‘tasteful’ bed around it. MOre than likely he'd have just dug it up--or had me dig it up--until he got around to fixing things his way. Snarf. So not me. I put the climbing roses in a semi-circle in front of my son’s bedroom window, far enough away from the lilacs, and far enough away from our big old tree too. I still need to get something for them to grow on and up and along, but I have them in the ground. Then again, after X1’s image left my brain—thankfully his voice there has been banished the past couple years--I still heard the disapproval of X2—who cannot do anything that is not utterly mainstream and just like everyone else. I find that sad, actually.
Since it is colder these past few nights—and the forecast says it’s going to FREEZE by the end of the coming week!!! – I haven’t planted the bulbs or the other bushes. My poor bushes are still sitting in their bucket of water. I had planned to plant the dwarf burning bushes yesterday, but my son didn’t have school and came to visit a day early. There is no way I can manage planting, since I do it by hand and barefoot, with my daughter watching the phone for me in case it rings (work), while my son is here—he distracts my daughter—and me—and it’s just a much better thing to take the week-end off right now.
And, as much as some people will hate this, I spread insecticide all over the yard, front and sides. I haven’t gotten to the back yet—because I do things by hand—and usually barefoot. Mostly because the day I did it I was barefoot. BUT—I haven’t had ant one in the house since I did that—since the DAY I did that. Except of course for the ants that I paid money for and that now live in the space age ant farm kit of my daughter’s. I still feel ridiculous having bought ants after spending so much time and effort attempting to eradicate them from the house.
Since I feed the birds anyway, they don’t seem to mind that I have put out bug killer. I haven’t seen evidence of moles in the yard, other than that which was already here. I still have castor bean seeds that I am planning to start here soon as well.
Which reminds me—I planted white sage and the 2 kinds of sacred basil that I have, in planters outside. I think E’s strawberries are drowning, since it keeps raining; but then again they haven’t germinated yet, so maybe they stand a chance on down the line.
I not only signed up for Poetic Asides—I have written a poem based on its prompt every single day. And by doing so, it released something else inside me and I have been writing a lot of poetry since the start of the month. Now, a lot of things have been going on the past couple weeks. I have been writing fiction more than ever, consistently, daily, yes. But I have a lot of backlog in the non-fiction arena going on. Non-fiction I have been trying to hold at bay, trying to ignore, trying to make just go the heck away so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. Since I write free form poetry, writing for Poetic Asides has opened the door to allow other things to come through—not that I haven’t been writing bits here and there anyway. Now, though, it’s like a massive strain. I have to pick up my pen, because I have a much better time writing poetry like this on paper before I type it up, and just write. I write while on the phone with clients, which is a really weird thing. It’s almost like automatic writing then. Which is basically what poetry is for me anyway—free form—free flow—stream of consciousness. I edit my writing—stories, etc—as I go—I hold myself back from doing this or saying that—but in poetry I just let it go. Add into that that I will circle a topic, round and round, until I either dig deeply into it or shake it around enough to feel fine letting it go and not dredging it up again.
Then again, using the poetry to open things up has given me an advantage. I am not actually used to having to dig deep and then hand it to someone. Look at my past relationships. I haven’t ever trusted anyone enough to want to let them in that far—not even X1—and look at how long I was with him. But—of course there is bff now—and I have always trusted him implicitly. The whole time I have known him I have found myself telling him things that I never told anyone else before. Now, this is the man I have to come clean with and to—whether I like the idea or not.
Have you ever seen the movie, ‘Practical Magic’, with Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman? It’s one of my favourite movies (the book is WAY better though ). Remember how the lawman comes into town and Sally cannot lie to him for any reason? I have that same compelling need to tell R everything. Even as something begins to brim up from wherever I hide things, before I am even fully aware of it, I have to tell him. I get very uncomfortable if I don’t tell him. And there are so many other way too complex levels to get into at the moment. No matter how hard I try to fight—I have to tell him—everything. There are so many reasons this drives me crazy.
He is the one big reason I can no longer hide. Well, that makes it sound as if it is his fault and it isn’t. Not by any means. The thing that happened with the White Counsel is the first and most major reason why I can no longer hide. R is just the impetus and the support I need in order to achieve this. As you can see, I have made changes on this blog—and on every other blog I post to on a regular basis. I have been trying to go in to the places I use the most and am the most active and update things so that I am more accessible and available. On the one hand, it is pretty freaking scary. On the other hand, it’s ok. It feels good not to feel the need to have to hide anymore. You know?
Do you know I offered to knit the man a sweater? I have the yarn, on hand, ready to go. All I have to do is pick a pattern, or get him to pick one, and go. After I knit up the Captain America sweater for N, of course, since I did say I would do that for Christmas last year …. Ahem. At least with R there is no rush. I really want to finish the other willie warmer, now that we know what we’re doing, before I start a sweater. But my fingertips have to be ready for that one. And I want to be able to sit and just do it and not have a stop anywhere in between so I do it right all the way through. Although I have been contemplating a seamed version, for the sake of my poor fingertips. But we’ll see. I have yarn for two more of them. Lol So we’ll see how that goes.
Remember my octopus appliqués I got from ebay? The ones I used on the bags? Well, I still have a few left over. I ironed one onto a pair of jeans the other day. Ok, note to self. It was a good idea, making octo jeans. But, next time, do not use stretch jeans. Now, see, I actually KNEW that. But still—I did it anyway. It’s not as bad as all that, because my jeans are not tremendously stretched when I wear them, thankfully. But I can tell the fabric is stretching wrong so it bugs me. Plus, one of the tentacles got caught on the iron on the first pass and it twisted. That can be fixed—and it was, with little trouble—but the slight pulling of the fabric—I’ll notice it every time I wear them. And, oh yes, I do plan to wear them. I also plan on pulling down some of my older, non-stretch, jeans and smacking an octo onto them too, just because .
I found a street sign on ebay that says “caution, octopus trapped in a human body”, and I keep hemming and hawing about wanting it. So, I did what I do and I searched for that phrase—I googled it. Which led me to cafepress. Do you know I very nearly bought 2 shirts just because they had something like that on them (one was octopus, one was cephalopod) – almost $50 for two shirts. Now, I am laughing enough over the $45 pair of jeans (which btw arrived this afternoon—woo hoo) – but I could not buy two shirts just because they have octopus on them. Then, just before I really did commit and buy the things, it dawned on me…this is cafepress. These are not my favourite octopus, or even my favourite octopus images. These are not blue-rings, or giant Pacifics. No. I can work up my own artwork and make my own shirts. Screw that, paying $50 for two shirts. When I can make up my own that I know I will like a heck of a lot better.
Then again, do you know how simple it is? I was trolling etsy one evening and found wife beater shirts, drawn on with black sharpies, to create rather nice, but still expensive for what it was, octopus shirts….. do you see how simple some things honestly can be here?
Other than the added drama I keep drawing my bff through at the moment, I have had something really good happen this week-end though. Someone found me on facebook. Did I tell you how excited I was a few weeks ago when another friend from high school found me? Well, this other friend found me last night. And he said something which actually dropped a hammer in my brain. I graduated in 1987. That was supposed to be my junior year, but since I was threatening to quit school I got to take my junior and senior year together. My friends didn’t. It dawned on me today, as I went looking, that most of my friends didn’t graduate until the 90s. 90, 91, 92, 93. Do keep in mind, I had a lot of friends and grades/age didn’t really stop me from doing anything. So, this morning I went looking, in the proper time frame on facebook. And I found several people. Someone I have been missing for such a long time too and been wondering about. I had such a great conversation with a friend this morning. Plus, she offered to let us come visit-and go skiing. Among other things-since I’ve never been skiing. I am actually just looking forward to going and talking and hanging out. I am far too easy.
Here’s looking forward to an even better coming week.
