Monday, December 21, 2009

Return of the Distant Goddess

In the Kemetic Orthodox tradition this day celebrates the Return of the Distant Goddess. This refers to Hethert (Hathor) who in the form of Sekhmet has traveled south in Her bloodthirsty rage. There are variations on the tale but in summary She is calmed and convinced to come back home. She is the Eye of Ra and therefore associated with the Sun.
You can read one of the stories at a fellow Shemsu's website: here

In modern times we can equate this with Yule in that the Sun is returning. In that we should make merry!

I hope everyone has a Blessed day no matter how you celebrate it. As for me I will be celebrating tomorrow evening.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Yule Season

I'm sure everyone is familiar with the traditional cinnamon ornaments?
Well, someone I know makes them with only applesauce and cinnamon so she can burn them as incense when she is done with them. I thought that was pretty awesome! So, I decided to try a variation of that using an actual Yule incense blend. I mixed equal parts of the incense blend with the applesauce. It seemed too moist so I added some flour to thicken it up. I then used a cup to cut out circles and my pentacle cookie press. I used a straw to poke a hole at the top and stuck them in a 250 degree oven for about an hour and a half. I used red and green ribbon to make loops for them. They came out excellent!

Yesterday my family played hooky and had a family day together. We went to the grocery store and picked up egg nog, cookies, and fixin's for Make-your-own-pizzas. I cranked up the Xmas tunes and we decorated our Yule tree.



Despite it not being officially Winter until the 21st we are already in the midst of Winter here in Maine. I woke up to a temperature of 1 degree this morning. It is very icy everywhere which I don't much like. I can't wait for the next snow storm here. I enjoy the snow much more than the ice.

Here is a picture from our last snow storm here:

A winter wonderland!

On the EMPPD front we have been having lots of fun and a lot of success in our endeavors!
We completed our first photo shoot for our Naughty Pagan Calendar. There were many beautiful (and hilarious!) shots taken and we are looking forward to our next shoot in January.

As far as Yule in my house we will be spending time with our adopted family here on the 22nd and I hope to make a big batch of Wassail.

Blessed Yule!

Monday, December 7, 2009

Naughty Pagan Calendar and Snow!

Em Hotep!

Recently, I have volunteered my time to both Cherry Hill Seminary as a slave to the Academic Dean and Eastern Maine Pagan Pride Day as a co-coordinator. I have been absolutely thrilled about these opportunities.

Most recent development with EMPPD is that we have decided to make Yule Crafts and a Naughty Pagan Calendar as fundraisers. We will be soon setting up the crafts for sale on our Facebook page and our first photo shoot for the calendar is scheduled for this Saturday. We also are finally able to send off our paperwork to the State of Maine to have our non-profit status. It has been such fun meeting new people in the community and the ball once started rolling just took off!

Here in Maine we got our real first snow yesterday! So I had to take a trip to the thrift store and get myself a new coat and shoe liners for hubby's snow boots. I'm not sure if I am entirely ready for Winter yet but I am certainly enjoying the beauty of the snow everywhere.

Today I will be dragging out Yule decorations and trying to get in the spirit of the season. Although I totally hate the commercialism of these days upon us.

Ankh, Udja, Seneb!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

For a good cause

There is an awesome online Pagan Seminary school called Cherry Hill Seminary. Some of you might be familiar with it and for those who are not please check out the site. They are in the process of trying to become an accredited school.

Recently, it was brought to my attention that someone on Facebook has asked for donations for this school as a birthday present.
What an awesome idea! And kudos to her!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Giving Thanks: Take 2

So Thanksgiving is upon us, which means the madness of the holiday season is upon us.
I won't go into the humbug of that.

In my home Mabon and Thanksgiving are pretty similar. Eat too much and pass out.
Although instead of Mabon bread I will be making Maple Nut bread (a recipe passed around in my family and much treasured). I'll have snacks out such as dill pickles, sweet pickles, black and green olives, and baby carrots with dip.
On the menu:

Stuffed Turkey wrapped in bacon
Garlic mashed potatoes
Sweet buttery corn
Cranberry Sauce
Mashed Turnips
Apple Cider
Pecan Pie

In other news:
I rearranged my bedroom. It included moving my Kemetic Shrine and dusting it. There was much rejoicing, "Yay!"
I also was reminded through a Karma Card reading to put faith back into prayer. I am thankful for that. Prayer has always been a powerful tool for me and lately I have abandoned it. I took this reminder pretty seriously and immediately refocused to include it in my life again. Already, I feel the effects of it.

Many blessings to everyone on Thanksgiving!

Ankh, Udja, Seneb!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Fill in the blank

it's been awhile. I know...

Our Witches Ball was a success and we raised enough money to file with the state of Maine as a non-profit. (Huzzah!)
We will soon be having our next interested party meeting on Nov. 15th and discussing what to do from here.

Lately I have noticed a strong need to organize things before Winter hits. This is a cycle I am not use to but not unappreciative. However, with my focus on the mundane things I have been disconnected spiritually. Something that I think happens to all of us. So, I decided to pull out my tarot cards and Karma cards last night to see what they had to tell me. I should expect it by now as it always happens...but they actually told me what I pretty much already knew. Ha! What few things that seem cryptic to me never make sense until the event actually passes.

I absolutely love my tarot deck. It was a gift to me from a best friend back when we were young teens. I have since found out that it is no longer in print and going for a lot of money. That just blows my mind. Although I would never depart with my beloved deck. The Karma cards were a bridal shower gift and are really nifty.
It is split up into three small decks; Planets, Signs, and Houses.
You can ask either an Action question (such as "what should I do?") or an outcome question (such as "What will happen if...?") and draw one card from each deck. If it is an action question you will out the red side up to read and if it is outcome then the blue side up to read. Now this is the really cool part because the 3 cards form 3different sentences that apply to Spiritual, Mental and Physical.
If you get a chance to check them out, please do!

Now off, to have a visit with a friend and have some yummy Smoothies.

Blessed Be!

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Welcome Mrs. B's Followers!

This blog was just created not that long ago but I hope is enjoyable to all.
I am a stay at home mother of 3 and happily married. I lived in Florida all my life and just recently (almost a year ago) made sudden life change and moved with my family to gorgeous Maine.
So, enjoy what I have so far. :)

Hope everyone's Samhain is blessed!

And don't forget your Ancestors!

Friday, October 30, 2009

Lugh and Balor - A Tale for Samhain

Due to the recent request of author Micheal Sean McGuinness I have removed the story of Lugh. I'm sorry that I am unable to share it any longer even when credit was given.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

EMPPD Witches Ball

In case you haven't heard there is a Witches Ball in town! Co-coordinated by yours truly.

So come on down and boogie into the night Witches style!

17 Island Ave.
Orono, ME

This will be a family friendly event with Costume contests, candy making contest, Ancestor Shrine, Divination, Music, and Bonfire!

This is a FREE event! (But donations are gratefully accepted!)

Candy making contest:
Jars will be set out for each entry. To vote you place money in the jar. The winner is the jar with the most money. The total amount of money from votes will then be split between winner and EMPPD.

Costume contest: There will be 2 categories, one for adults and one for children. There will be rune chocolates for sale. The sales from the chocolates will be split between the winners and EMPPD.

Potluck will begin around 5pm and we will have some chairs provided but we ask you to bring one if you have it.
Also we will allow a minimal amount of alcohol to the event and a volunteer will be providing a Taxi service to those that need rides for the price of monetary donations. Car seats are available also.

Please feel free to pass on this information to ANYONE who wishes to support the cause.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

"What you are now, we once were; what we are now, you shall be."

Samhain/Halloween is coming up fast. This is time when the veil thins, we commune with our ancestors, and contemplate the year ahead.
One of the great things I enjoy as being pagan is that I open myself up to messages or lessons in the strangest places or things. It amuses me. My husband recently won a horror movie quiz in which he received the most recent issue of Girls and Corpses. It is a magazine of (you guessed) girls and corpses! However, amongst their blatant tries of offending they actually had an interesting article that I thought was highly appropriate for Samhain and thought my fellow pagans would also appreciate.
There was an article on a place in Italy known as Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini or Our Lady of the Conception of the Capuchins. Underneath the church is a crypt but what makes this crypt unique is the way the remains are displayed. All the bones have been used to artfully decorate the crypt.
The crypt is known as the Capuchin Crypt and contains 6 different rooms each with their own title.
1. Crypt of the Resurrection
2. The Mass Chapel
3. Crypt of the Skulls
4. Crypt of the Pelvises
5. Crypt of the Leg Bones and Thigh Bones
6. Crypt of the Three Skeletons

Some pictures of the Crypt:

After reading about this crypt I found that this was just one Ossuary and others existed. I think it is amazing the art created from the skeletal remains.

There is also the Sedlec Ossuary which is Czech.

There is also the Portugese Capela dos Ossos or Chapel of Bones which has a poem by Padre António da Ascenção that I like.

Where are you going in such a hurry traveler?
Pause … do not advance your travel;
You have no greater concern,
Than this one: that on which you focus your sight.

Recall how many have passed from this world,
Reflect on your similar end,
There is good reason to reflect
If only all did the same.

Ponder, you so influenced by fate,
Among all the many concerns of the world,
So little do you reflect on death;

If by chance you glance at this place,
Stop … for the sake of your journey,
The more you pause, the further on your journey you will be.

So, this Samhain don't forget your ancestors and all the ones who have passed before us and think of an artful way to celebrate them.

Blessed Be!

Monday, October 19, 2009

A Victorian Halloween

Many years ago my mom had a Victorian calendar. When it came to October it had this great page with vintage postcards and decorations for Halloween. I loved it so much that I ripped it out and kept it ever since. One of the things I loved about it was the little divinations and text on it. So, I wanted to share them. :)

On Halloween the witches resort
To test lovers hearts in a glass retort
If they turn Black she knows what to do
Should it stay Red your lover is true
Throw ink down her well, to break the charm
And your lover is safe for it will shield him from harm.

On Halloween look in the glass,
Your future husband's face will pass.

Pick a pumpkin
and on it's back
you'll find your future
bright or black

With a goose wish-bone and four
Pumpkin seeds, marked with letters love
On Halloween place over door on the sill above
And he Who first passes from under, your
Future husband is to be-if he don't blunder.

There is another one on the page about lighting both ends of a candle but unfortunately part of the text is cut off.


Thursday, October 15, 2009

Eastern Maine Pagan Pride Day

Okay, I promised to elaborate a bit more on a few things.

I figured I would start with the project I and a friend are coordinating together.
I am very excited to help put together the First Annual Eastern Maine Pagan Pride Day. This has been fun, I'm meeting new people, and is a labor of love.
For a few years now there has been a PPD event in Southern Maine. Since I have moved here I noticed there seems to be a large population of pagans here but not much networking or coming together. My friend and I were chatting one day and discussing this and decided to take the plunge to try and bring the pagans for this area together and increase the awareness of the community.
We had our first Interested Party where we had a hand full of people show up to discuss ideas and what we all wanted from this event. As soon as the meeting was over word spread like fire among other pagans within the community. There seems to be a great amount of enthusiasm and this just tickles me.
We have created a page on Facebook:
Eastern Maine Pagan Pride Day
We also have a Yahoo! group:

If you don't know what Pagan Pride Day is visit the website:
Pagan Pride Project
You might even decide to bring this to your area!

Our first fundraising event will be a Witches Ball on Oct. 30th. This will include bonfire, music and contests!

Please, if you support this cause and wish to help in any way contact me
Let me know how you wish to contribute!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Quick stop in...

I have been recently consumed with other things in life and have not been able to put aside some time to write a thoughtful blog.
However, there are things I intend to share on here as soon as I can.

1. Last Full Moon: I have a picture!

2. Pagan Pride Day: I'm Co-coordinator for next year's First annual Pagan Pride Day for my area.

3. Excting news for myself regarding an offer to volunteer to a good cause. WooT!

So hang on a bit and I'll get a chance to elaborate a bit more.

Blessed Be!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Mrs. B's 2nd day of Halloween

Yes, expect a blog like this for every day this month. Afterall, what pagan can resist these kind of goodies! :)

There are 3 giveaways today over at Mrs. B's, allow me to showcase them.

Over at Custom Zombie!
they are offering up one of their digital Zombie prints.

A personal blogger over at
Encanto da Lua is offering up a crystal ball, incense and a censer.

And from Jeanne of The Candy Corn Chronicles
there are 3 little paper mache candy cups.

Good Luck and Blessed Be!

The Fall is creepin'

Yesterday I ventured out to the store and decided to bring my camera with me. I wanted to capture the Fall creepin' in. It was a chilly and dreary day yesterday and there was a stillness in the day. I could hear the heartbeat of the Earth, of this place.
I thought to myself, what a big difference it has been experiencing a full cycle of seasons. There is a whole rhythm to life here that I never imagined. I find my body and mind has easily adjusted to this rhythm but it is still so new and strange to me. There is a beauty to it.
I thought for sure my body and energy was more aligned with this cycle rather than the the cycle I lived in down in Florida.
I see the Gods beauty everywhere here...

Ankh, Udja, Seneb! (Life, Prosperity, Health)

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Mrs. B begins her 31 days of Halloween

Hey all!

One of my favorite blogs is having an awesome event! If you are unfamiliar with Mrs. B take a hop on over to her blog: Confessions of a Pagan Soccer Mom

Today is the first day of the event and includes 4 giveaways, a guest blogger, and the first stop on the Haunted blog tour.

Let me share with you the 4 witchy items that are a part of the giveaway today.

From Indigo Squirrel
there is a Witches Rattle with a Victorian witch pictured on it.

From Magical Muse Designs there is a bottle of Witch's Flying Ointment.

From Marcy Hall Arts there is the Hallowbunny decoration.

And last but not least, from Quirk Books is the book from Ben H. Winters, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters.

Be sure to check back every day this month for more awesome giveaways. I know I will!

Yay for Witchy Goodness!

Monday, September 28, 2009

Mabon recap

On Sunday I had my Mabon feast. A few friends came by for it and the house was filled with noise and good smells. The things that made it onto the menu:

A stuffed turkey wrapped in bacon
Mashed potatoes
Cooked squash with sugary substance
Garden Succomush (like succotash)
Mabon bread
Pumpkin bread
Acorn bread of Death
Caramel and candied apples
chips and herb ranch dip
crackers and cheese
Pecan pie
Chocolate pudding pie
Applecookielicious pie
Homemade honey butter
Apple cider
Blackberry Merlot

A few explanations on some of the contributions...
This is only the second time I have attempted Succotash and a different recipe from the first I made. I have no idea what succotash is even suppose to look like. When I cooked it this time by a different recipe it turned into a mush thus the name of Succomush. However it is suppose to look it was a big success because everyone really liked it.

Secondly, the Acorn bread of Death was thusly named because the acorns were harvested from some oaks in a graveyard.

The apples, apple cider, squash, potatoes, and heavy cream(used to make the butter) were all products from here in Maine.

The apple variety I used are called Northern Spy.

Aset(Isis) is the Goddess I honor so I naturally made her a presence on the Mabon Shrine area for the day along with her husband Asar(Osiris). The reason I decided to put him up there with Aset is because along with his common association with the Underworld he also a God of vegetation which I thought was appropriate for a Harvest meal.

Some pictures from the feast

Squash with sugary substance

Mabon bread

Alexandra, our turkey

The Feast table

Mabon feast casualty

I hope everyone else had a Blessed Mabon!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Giving Thanks on Mabon

My life has changed immensely in the past year in a way I didn't think would ever happen. This Mabon I have a lot to be thankful for.

I am thankful for finally finding a place I can call home.
I am thankful for my children.
I am thankful for my hubby.
I am thankful for my friends both old and new.
I am thankful for the opportunity to help organize something for the pagan community here.
I am thankful to have found a place where my children can have better opportunities in their lives.
I am thankful for my parents who despite differences have been supportive.

I feel I have come a long way in my life in ways people will probably never know about.
Netjer and my Akhu have blessed my life.

What will you be thankful for this Mabon?

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Mabon is a comin'!

Yesterday I went outside to check the mail and to my surprise felt a mighty chill. My hubby says there is talk around work that Fall has arrived early and that we might get snow early this year.
My opinion? I have none. I'm new to this thing called seasons.
What I have noticed is that it is chillier and the smell in the air is changing. Maybe that is what Fall smells like, maybe it is here.
One thing I know for certain is that Mabon is creeping up on me. Time to start menu planning!
A couple of years ago I came across an Apple Mabon bread recipe that I fell in love with. Of course since the move I have not been able to find a darn thing I am looking for. However, I think I found a YouTube video of someone making it. Seems to be the same ingredients. Thank the Gods!


2 ½ cups grated apple
2 cups raisins or crazins (soaked)
1 ½ cups boiling water
3 Tbs oil
1 cup honey or Agave nectar
1 ½ tsp cinnamon
1 ½ tsp allspice
1 ½ tsp salt
½ tsp cloves

3 cups whole wheat flour
1 ½ tsp baking soda
¾ cup chopped nuts

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease two loaf pans and set aside. Combine first 9 ingredients together in a bowl and set aside.
In another bowl, mix together the last three ingredients. Add the wet mixture to the flour mixture and mix until combined. Pour into prepared loaf pans and bake for one hour.

Let rest on rack until cool.

I still have not entirely figured out what I am putting on the menu. One thing I would like to try for this feast is to try and put as many local ingredients as I can into it. I am hoping for a chance to take the kids to an apple orchard to pick apples for us to use in the feast.

My ideas so far have been:
Apple Mabon bread, pumpkin bread pudding, candied/caramel apples, mashed potatoes, succotash. As far as a meat I am considering roasting a chicken or turkey with my homemade stuffing.

If you have any favorite Mabon or Fall recipes please post and share!


A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings

This is a wonderful story a friend of mine posted on his blog. While it is not pagan in nature I thought it was well worth passing on.

A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Translated by Gregory Rabassa

On the third day of rain they had killed so many crabs inside the house that Pelayo had to cross his drenched courtyard and throw them into the sea, because the newborn child had a temperature all night and they thought it was due to the stench. The world had been sad since Tuesday. Sea and sky were a single ash-gray thing and the sands of the beach, which on March nights glimmered like powdered light, had become a stew of mud and rotten shellfish. The light was so weak at noon that when Pelayo was coming back to the house after throwing away the crabs, it was hard for him to see what it was that was moving and groaning in the rear of the courtyard. He had to go very close to see that it was an old man, a very old man, lying face down in the mud, who, in spite of his tremendous efforts, couldn’t get up, impeded by his enormous wings.

Frightened by that nightmare, Pelayo ran to get Elisenda, his wife, who was putting compresses on the sick child, and he took her to the rear of the courtyard. They both looked at the fallen body with a mute stupor. He was dressed like a ragpicker. There were only a few faded hairs left on his bald skull and very few teeth in his mouth, and his pitiful condition of a drenched great-grandfather took away any sense of grandeur he might have had. His huge buzzard wings, dirty and half-plucked, were forever entangled in the mud. They looked at him so long and so closely that Pelayo and Elisenda very soon overcame their surprise and in the end found him familiar. Then they dared speak to him, and he answered in an incomprehensible dialect with a strong sailor’s voice. That was how they skipped over the inconvenience of the wings and quite intelligently concluded that he was a lonely castaway from some foreign ship wrecked by the storm. And yet, they called in a neighbor woman who knew everything about life and death to see him, and all she needed was one look to show them their mistake.

“He’s an angel,” she told them. “He must have been coming for the child, but the poor fellow is so old that the rain knocked him down.”

On the following day everyone knew that a flesh-and-blood angel was held captive in Pelayo’s house. Against the judgment of the wise neighbor woman, for whom angels in those times were the fugitive survivors of a celestial conspiracy, they did not have the heart to club him to death. Pelayo watched over him all afternoon from the kitchen, armed with his bailiff’s club, and before going to bed he dragged him out of the mud and locked him up with the hens in the wire chicken coop. In the middle of the night, when the rain stopped, Pelayo and Elisenda were still killing crabs. A short time afterward the child woke up without a fever and with a desire to eat. Then they felt magnanimous and decided to put the angel on a raft with fresh water and provisions for three days and leave him to his fate on the high seas. But when they went out into the courtyard with the first light of dawn, they found the whole neighborhood in front of the chicken coop having fun with the angel, without the slightest reverence, tossing him things to eat through the openings in the wire as if he weren’t a supernatural creature but a circus animal.

Father Gonzaga arrived before seven o’clock, alarmed at the strange news. By that time onlookers less frivolous than those at dawn had already arrived and they were making all kinds of conjectures concerning the captive’s future. The simplest among them thought that he should be named mayor of the world. Others of sterner mind felt that he should be promoted to the rank of five-star general in order to win all wars. Some visionaries hoped that he could be put to stud in order to implant the earth a race of winged wise men who could take charge of the universe. But Father Gonzaga, before becoming a priest, had been a robust woodcutter. Standing by the wire, he reviewed his catechism in an instant and asked them to open the door so that he could take a close look at that pitiful man who looked more like a huge decrepit hen among the fascinated chickens. He was lying in the corner drying his open wings in the sunlight among the fruit peels and breakfast leftovers that the early risers had thrown him. Alien to the impertinences of the world, he only lifted his antiquarian eyes and murmured something in his dialect when Father Gonzaga went into the chicken coop and said good morning to him in Latin. The parish priest had his first suspicion of an imposter when he saw that he did not understand the language of God or know how to greet His ministers. Then he noticed that seen close up he was much too human: he had an unbearable smell of the outdoors, the back side of his wings was strewn with parasites and his main feathers had been mistreated by terrestrial winds, and nothing about him measured up to the proud dignity of angels. Then he came out of the chicken coop and in a brief sermon warned the curious against the risks of being ingenuous. He reminded them that the devil had the bad habit of making use of carnival tricks in order to confuse the unwary. He argued that if wings were not the essential element in determining the different between a hawk and an airplane, they were even less so in the recognition of angels. Nevertheless, he promised to write a letter to his bishop so that the latter would write his primate so that the latter would write to the Supreme Pontiff in order to get the final verdict from the highest courts.

His prudence fell on sterile hearts. The news of the captive angel spread with such rapidity that after a few hours the courtyard had the bustle of a marketplace and they had to call in troops with fixed bayonets to disperse the mob that was about to knock the house down. Elisenda, her spine all twisted from sweeping up so much marketplace trash, then got the idea of fencing in the yard and charging five cents admission to see the angel.

The curious came from far away. A traveling carnival arrived with a flying acrobat who buzzed over the crowd several times, but no one paid any attention to him because his wings were not those of an angel but, rather, those of a sidereal bat. The most unfortunate invalids on earth came in search of health: a poor woman who since childhood has been counting her heartbeats and had run out of numbers; a Portuguese man who couldn’t sleep because the noise of the stars disturbed him; a sleepwalker who got up at night to undo the things he had done while awake; and many others with less serious ailments. In the midst of that shipwreck disorder that made the earth tremble, Pelayo and Elisenda were happy with fatigue, for in less than a week they had crammed their rooms with money and the line of pilgrims waiting their turn to enter still reached beyond the horizon.

The angel was the only one who took no part in his own act. He spent his time trying to get comfortable in his borrowed nest, befuddled by the hellish heat of the oil lamps and sacramental candles that had been placed along the wire. At first they tried to make him eat some mothballs, which, according to the wisdom of the wise neighbor woman, were the food prescribed for angels. But he turned them down, just as he turned down the papal lunches that the pentinents brought him, and they never found out whether it was because he was an angel or because he was an old man that in the end ate nothing but eggplant mush. His only supernatural virtue seemed to be patience. Especially during the first days, when the hens pecked at him, searching for the stellar parasites that proliferated in his wings, and the cripples pulled out feathers to touch their defective parts with, and even the most merciful threw stones at him, trying to get him to rise so they could see him standing. The only time they succeeded in arousing him was when they burned his side with an iron for branding steers, for he had been motionless for so many hours that they thought he was dead. He awoke with a start, ranting in his hermetic language and with tears in his eyes, and he flapped his wings a couple of times, which brought on a whirlwind of chicken dung and lunar dust and a gale of panic that did not seem to be of this world. Although many thought that his reaction had not been one of rage but of pain, from then on they were careful not to annoy him, because the majority understood that his passivity was not that of a hero taking his ease but that of a cataclysm in repose.

Father Gonzaga held back the crowd’s frivolity with formulas of maidservant inspiration while awaiting the arrival of a final judgment on the nature of the captive. But the mail from Rome showed no sense of urgency. They spent their time finding out if the prisoner had a navel, if his dialect had any connection with Aramaic, how many times he could fit on the head of a pin, or whether he wasn’t just a Norwegian with wings. Those meager letters might have come and gone until the end of time if a providential event had not put and end to the priest’s tribulations.

It so happened that during those days, among so many other carnival attractions, there arrived in the town the traveling show of the woman who had been changed into a spider for having disobeyed her parents. The admission to see her was not only less than the admission to see the angel, but people were permitted to ask her all manner of questions about her absurd state and to examine her up and down so that no one would ever doubt the truth of her horror. She was a frightful tarantula the size of a ram and with the head of a sad maiden. What was most heartrending, however, was not her outlandish shape but the sincere affliction with which she recounted the details of her misfortune. While still practically a child she had sneaked out of her parents’ house to go to a dance, and while she was coming back through the woods after having danced all night without permission, a fearful thunderclap rent the sky in two and through the crack came the lightning bolt of brimstone that changed her into a spider. Her only nourishment came from the meatballs that charitable souls chose to toss into her mouth. A spectacle like that, full of so much human truth and with such a fearful lesson, was bound to defeat without even trying that of a haughty angel who scarcely deigned to look at mortals. Besides, the few miracles attributed to the angel showed a certain mental disorder, like the blind man who didn’t recover his sight but grew three new teeth, or the paralytic who didn’t get to walk but almost won the lottery, and the leper whose sores sprouted sunflowers. Those consolation miracles, which were more like mocking fun, had already ruined the angel’s reputation when the woman who had been changed into a spider finally crushed him completely. That was how Father Gonzaga was cured forever of his insomnia and Pelayo’s courtyard went back to being as empty as during the time it had rained for three days and crabs walked through the bedrooms.

The owners of the house had no reason to lament. With the money they saved they built a two-story mansion with balconies and gardens and high netting so that crabs wouldn’t get in during the winter, and with iron bars on the windows so that angels wouldn’t get in. Pelayo also set up a rabbit warren close to town and gave up his job as a bailiff for good, and Elisenda bought some satin pumps with high heels and many dresses of iridescent silk, the kind worn on Sunday by the most desirable women in those times. The chicken coop was the only thing that didn’t receive any attention. If they washed it down with creolin and burned tears of myrrh inside it every so often, it was not in homage to the angel but to drive away the dungheap stench that still hung everywhere like a ghost and was turning the new house into an old one. At first, when the child learned to walk, they were careful that he not get too close to the chicken coop. But then they began to lose their fears and got used to the smell, and before they child got his second teeth he’d gone inside the chicken coop to play, where the wires were falling apart. The angel was no less standoffish with him than with the other mortals, but he tolerated the most ingenious infamies with the patience of a dog who had no illusions. They both came down with the chicken pox at the same time. The doctor who took care of the child couldn’t resist the temptation to listen to the angel’s heart, and he found so much whistling in the heart and so many sounds in his kidneys that it seemed impossible for him to be alive. What surprised him most, however, was the logic of his wings. They seemed so natural on that completely human organism that he couldn’t understand why other men didn’t have them too.

When the child began school it had been some time since the sun and rain had caused the collapse of the chicken coop. The angel went dragging himself about here and there like a stray dying man. They would drive him out of the bedroom with a broom and a moment later find him in the kitchen. He seemed to be in so many places at the same time that they grew to think that he’d be duplicated, that he was reproducing himself all through the house, and the exasperated and unhinged Elisenda shouted that it was awful living in that hell full of angels. He could scarcely eat and his antiquarian eyes had also become so foggy that he went about bumping into posts. All he had left were the bare cannulae of his last feathers. Pelayo threw a blanket over him and extended him the charity of letting him sleep in the shed, and only then did they notice that he had a temperature at night, and was delirious with the tongue twisters of an old Norwegian. That was one of the few times they became alarmed, for they thought he was going to die and not even the wise neighbor woman had been able to tell them what to do with dead angels.

And yet he not only survived his worst winter, but seemed improved with the first sunny days. He remained motionless for several days in the farthest corner of the courtyard, where no one would see him, and at the beginning of December some large, stiff feathers began to grow on his wings, the feathers of a scarecrow, which looked more like another misfortune of decreptitude. But he must have known the reason for those changes, for he was quite careful that no one should notice them, that no one should hear the sea chanteys that he sometimes sang under the stars. One morning Elisenda was cutting some bunches of onions for lunch when a wind that seemed to come from the high seas blew into the kitchen. Then she went to the window and caught the angel in his first attempts at flight. They were so clumsy that his fingernails opened a furrow in the vegetable patch and he was on the point of knocking the shed down with the ungainly flapping that slipped on the light and couldn’t get a grip on the air. But he did manage to gain altitude. Elisenda let out a sigh of relief, for herself and for him, when she watched him pass over the last houses, holding himself up in some way with the risky flapping of a senile vulture. She kept watching him even when she was through cutting the onions and she kept on watching until it was no longer possible for her to see him, because then he was no longer an annoyance in her life but an imaginary dot on the horizon of the sea.

If you know someone. Pass this along. Keep good literature alive......

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Another Beginning

I felt the need to keep two different blogs. My geek blog is slowly coming along but sometimes I don't have things to write about for that topic. The other topic that I could write about is paganism or alternative religions. In theory, this plan might work. If I can't write about one thing than perhaps I can write about the other. We'll see...

So! Welcome! This blog will be dribble from the mind of a pagan mother.
I moved to Maine almost a year ago from Florida. My spirit was called here and I found an amazing spiritual family here. I have three children who, along with another mother and her two children, are a part of a homebrew pagan scout group.
I am also a co-coordinator for Eastern Maine Pagan Pride Day. It will be the first for this area and I am thrilled to be a part of it.

As far as my spiritual path goes...
I connect with both Wicca and Kemetic Orthodoxy and often just refer to myself as just pagan.
I really enjoy celebrating the 8 Sabbats and especially with friends. Moving here to Maine has allowed me to experience the Sabbats in a whole new way. I actually get to see the seasons changing and to me it is magic. The beauty never ceases for me here.