Samhain Percolations

Our coven celebrated Samhain on Wednesday night. It was the full moon too but the group conscience says that we never mix a full moon with Samhain. We concentrate fully on the Sabbat.

far_too

I made a special dish, which I highly recommend, perfect for Samhain and those who are especially connected to Hekate. Chopped hard boiled eggs with mayo and pepper on the bottom layer, sweet onions (saved the walla walla’s for this), cream cheese and sour cream, topped with black caviar. You can take chopped parsley and “frost” the sides too but I didn’t. All Her favorites. Black, white, eggs, onions. Served on crackers, it was delicious. Spendy but I wanted to celebrate all the abundance that I’ve received of late.

Everyone brought their divination tools. Before hand we were drawing cards and ogham sticks and I was getting some really great stuff. Pulled the 9 of cups from my High Priest’s deck. Niiiiice.

We had the ancestor altar and a large dumb supper. I had remembered to bring two photos because I printed them off at work and completely forgot the photos of my ancestors. So I had the photo of me and Joel and one of Steve Marriott. LMAO. I figured that my ancestors were close enough and I did got messages from all of them. But I got a lot of stuff from Joel and Steve. What was really weird is that folks kept saying things that were titles and lyrics from S.M.’s songs, including one of my favorite love songs, Say No More. It was a little uncanny after awhile.

During the ritual we had a lot of drumming and rattles and singing and dancing, really frikking cool, the coolest ever. The God took each of us to the divination corner one at a time while this was going on. I did a brief grounding and meditation, talked to Joel and Steve (and Alva and Lou and Nana and Beebo and Grandpa Uncle Bill), pulled some cards from my DruidCraft deck. Thanks guys, that about sums it up. Smiled my ass off. Suffice it to say that I got a lot of high cup cards that night. Went back to the group, picked up my rattle, and tranced out and yet remained fully there.

Asked an ancestor that was of my blood to show up. I’m adopted so all my ancestors are not of the blood. I was curious who might be connected to me in that way. And I got some voodoo queen, all caribbean, rattles and snakes and fire and blood and rum, Papa Legba and Urzulie. Extremely interesting images and energy. How frikking cool and very curious since my Mom’s family is from Kingston Barbados. Perhaps, blood or no blood, they are still my ancestors.

And I said a long and heartfelt goodbye to Joel, thanked him again for all the good. Asked him to send me someone to love who had many of his qualities and who would be a strong love like ours but without the drunkeness and womanizing. *wink*

It has to be the best ritual I’ve ever attended. I’ve attended a few Samhains that have knocked my socks off, my favorite sabbat of all, but this one was just amazing. I can’t even tell you about the drawing down the goddess part. Really, I can’t even tell you. Holy Mother, it was astonishing though.

So, tonight I’m gonna boogie til the rooster crows or I turn into a pumpkin…

Halloween Potluck

Every year one of my recovery meetings has a Halloween potluck. There are actually 4 Halloween sober parties I’ve got on the agenda, only know of one for sure that I’m going to. The potluck where I know everyone. The challenge was to be creative, look great, and spend as little time and money as possible.

Pulled out the one outfit I still have left from my SCA days. Going as Boudica. Warrior Queen. Gotta figure out my spear. But have the hair, the face paint, and the clothes…

Wool tunic (black) with linen undershift (green). The woolen tunic embroidery design is mine, the embroidery design on the linen was begun by my ex-teacher. (She did about 20% and then sold it to me for $5 and I completed the work.)  The woolen tunic has slits over the thighs surrounded by the motif on each side.  Amber, bone, wood, and rowan berry necklaces.  Wove the belt with tablets in a technique known as card weaving. The design is not from the Romano-British time period but it was a challenge I set for myself. The combination is stunning I think and it will serve. The leather belt with the shield boss buckle I got at Walmart of all places. I know. Only shopped there twice years ago and once I heard about their practices I never went back but the belt is awesome and can’t be denied. I wear it every day. This time it will be seen and not hidden under a t-shirt.  The red wig will be braided and the like with beads in it.  A woven band to hold the defiant bangs down.  Green pants in the same linen as the tunic and leather boots.  Good enough.  I think it will be Good Enough, which is excellent since that is the name of this particular meeting.  The Just Good Enough group.

boudica00

boudica01

boudica07

boudica02

boudica04

boudica05

boudica06

The New Phonebooks Are Here!

Well, not really. But an out of print book on the life of Steve Marriott has been re-published and is affordable again. And is being shipped to me this week. Woot!

The more I know about his life the more I see similarities between it and my life and my ex-husband. The destruction that is addiction is just incomprehensible. You take a perfectly delightful, and in his case supremely talented, human being, add more money than god and a cocaine addiction and you get:

An alcoholic in his cups is an unlovely creature. Our struggles with them are variously strenuous, comic, and tragic.

It is the truth. And we lose so many folks this way. My ex’s death certificate said “suicide” and Steve Marriott’s said “smoke inhalation due to a house fire.” They should have said “alcoholism.”

The man fascinates me and I’m dying to get my hands on this sometimes flawed book. I read a lot of biographies and when they deal with addiction I’m all over it. As much as I have a girl crush, the truth is his story breaks my heart. I wish he could have found sobriety. I don’t know if was denial, too much access, fame, or what. I know in the very early 70’s he tried to clean up his act to save his marriage. I think when he failed to do both, he gave up. Fuck it. The battle cry of the alcoholic. I always see myself running down a hill, painted with blue celtic symbols, a huge sword, screaming FUCK IIIITTTTTT! And I laugh and the moment passes. I’m a very lucky woman.

Little Boys

I felt that Hecate really had something to say today about Little Boys that was a slight tangent or perhaps an elaboration on what I was trying to say about female relationships with our men in the Mercy post.  Had to share here.  There are more thoughts that occur to me over time that I’ve simply been to emotionally busy to deal with of late.  But I had to make sure I shared this tidbit.  I guess, for me, this place of Little Boys and Nonnas, is the place to begin.  But what about those who didn’t have those relationships.  Do we give up on them simply because they are no longer little boys?

No I say.  No.  Nay.  Not one bit.  I know too many absolutely awesome men to stay in a hating mode….

Today is a New Day

Dad is very pleasant and willing to laugh and be happy today.  180% change.  Hard to keep up but I’m extremely grateful.  Must have been all the prayers and good wishes.

I’m exhausted but cleaned the house today while they were at church just asking for healing for all as I did them, ran some errands, took a nap.

Everyone feels better today than they did even this morning.

The roller coaster ride begins I’m afraid but at least my plea that my relationship with my father not end acrimoniously was answered.