Wednesday, April 23, 2014


Or it could be that that dream was a warning to eat more fruit and take some echinacea, because yesterday I got sick. I am still sick. I paid $30 to learn this, but at least I got antibiotics out of it. I hate my nose.

I am going to hose everyone at work down with Lysol.

That is all for now.

Monday, April 21, 2014


Equinox; equal night. Maybe this is my personal equinox - the light and dark balanced.

Last night, after love, I anointed my own forehead and asked for guidance in dreams, for Sight. And I dreamed. But all I remembered when I woke was telling a bunch of people, "They say I'm dying. But I feel fine. Besides, shouldn't I look sick?" I wasn't scared, just sure that whoever had told me this was wrong.

Somehow, I doubt this has much to do with the Waking World and a lot more to do with the Unseen. I imagine I'll find out soon enough.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Open Letter To The Idiot Landlord.

Dear Idiot Landlord,

We told you that the tree where we park needed trimming so it didn't throw another branch through another of our windshields. You have yet to do so. You have been far too busy pulling out old trailers (so that you can rent still more substandard housing) and tending your garden.

Don't make me blight your crops, you rapacious, tax-evading bastard. While I would feel bad about hurting innocent plants, I would not feel bad about giving you a serious case of the pants-ruining shits.

No love,
the ocelot

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

I've Been Nominated!

The kind and debonair Veles at Adventures In Witchery has nominated me for a Liebster blog award. I have no idea what this is, but am flattered. Onward to the questions I'm supposed to answer!

1. What is your most favorite magical mistake?

Putting a ward on my dorm room in my sophomore year of college, but forgetting to ward the rest of the house...which meant that the Little Nasty just lurked by my door and scared shit out of two previously skeptical friends. Whoops.

2. What resource (book,etc) do you actively discourage people from reading?
Y'know, I don't. I'll tell someone if I think something is shite and why, but I don't even slap a certain author's tiresome tomes out of the hands of noobs (cough - silverravenwolf - cough). Even errata can teach us something.
3. A God you'd most like to shag? (We love blasphemy here at Adventures in Witchery)
Hm. Pan. And Aphrodite. Jointly and severally.
4. Favorite movie witch?
Ooo. Tough call. I can't pick just one, so I'll do a top three: Jessica Lange as Fiona on AHS: Coven, Britt Eckland as Willow in The Wicker Man, and Lachlan Morrison in The Wicker Tree.
5. Favorite actual witch?
Historically? It's a tie between Doreen Valiente and Biddy Early. Personally? All the ones I know and like, both online and in meatspace. Special shout-out to my coven, who, of course, are my favorite favorites.
Yes, I know, I am demolishing the meaning of "favorite". Shoo.
6. What first drew you to witchcraft?
The full moon in the woods on cold spring nights in upstate NY. A book called "The Active-Enzyme, Lemon-Freshened, Junior High School Witch." The idea, gleaned from reading about Native Americans, that everything has a soul. The idea, gleaned from the ancient Greeks, that there are many gods. And, being Irish, probably genetics - I don't think you can get the polytheism out of a Mick.
7. If you could go back in time to your newbie self, what mistakes would you correct?
I wouldn't almost ask out the Dean of Students' wife - no, wait, yes I would. Oh. That isn't what you meant, is it? Well, I'd have looked for BTW earlier, maybe. But all in all, everything I did and didn't do made me the witch I am now, so I can't say I'd "correct" anything.
8. Favorite tarot deck?
I like the Crowley deck, but I don't actually use them.
9. What drew you to your particular tradition?
The people and the feeling that I'd come home.
10. What magical or religious system outside of your own interests you?
Catholic nuns. I'm actually serious. I'd love to spend a month in a cloistered order under vows of silence. Also, the Mormons and the Amish.
11. Biggest pet peeve about online paganism?
Oh, please, like I only have one? The idea that just because you have an opinion, you should voice it - no matter how ill-informed you may be. The refusal to admit that if you're not part of an oathbound tradition, you really can't have all that much of an opinion about it. The refusal to admit that some things are provably, factually wrong.
Now let me think about who I can shout "TAG!" at and nominate.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Better Pissed Off Than Pissed On, Or Why Tao Jones Is Right.

Yesterday, I was looking at where else I might be able to afford to ride, and eventually leverage that into teaching again. I realized that I was feeling less crushed and despairing and more pissed off at my summary and rather shitty dismissal.

Then I thought, fuck this. You forgot. The Good Barn wasn't supposed to be forever - you lost sight of the end goal. You forgot, when you came home grieving and broken, that this was temporary, that all this has ever really been about is you eventually running your own show. Your own barn. Your lessons, run your way. You got comfy and you forgot. Re-break your horse, or pay someone else to do it - he'd actually pay for himself with two lessons a week. Don't go back to where you were, because it is gone for a reason.

And I looked at Tao's comment again, him saying he believes in me, and thought, how? He doesn't really know me. But maybe he does. Maybe Tao is a little smarter about me than I am, right now. Maybe he's right, and the thing to do is dust off my sandals and keep moving toward where I'm really supposed to be.

I have no idea how this will happen. I need at least two schooling horses and the room and time to teach. But I managed to pull my shit together posthaste and find us a place to live, two cars, and enough work that we survived rather well after The Hasband decided to call it quits. Surely I can pull this off. To quote Uncle Aleister, if I do my Will, no other shall say nay.

And who's going to look under my saddle to see if it's got sigils all over it, anyway?

Monday, March 31, 2014

And Now, "Sugar Hill".

I recommend this film because it is a Greek tragedy. Wesley Snipes is a drug dealer who keeps trying to get out of the business. He keeps getting dragged back in.

I got through my last lesson tonight without puking or crying or burning the whole damn place to the ground with the power of my grief. I kep trying to think that RO is right, vis-a-vis his whole "Congratulations On Your Recent Trauma!" post.(Linky.) I keep trying to tell myself that Good Barn was a mixed blessing, that maybe something better is coming and the Universe is just making room for it.

On the other hand, as Tao Jones so wisely said in his comment, "The glib response is to say, 't's all for a purpose' but I won't bullshit you with that stale Judeo Xtian surrender." Sometimes defeat is just that. It's not cleansing or making room. It's just failure. And that's what scares me - that it's time to sell the tack and the horse and just get back on the boat, and I'm just not accepting that.

So I grieve. I took my last look at the barn today. Supposedly I'm riding on Saturday, and I do fear that Barn Owner will try to make me pay for lessons I can't afford for this month, citing that I didn't give her notice despite the little notice I got from her. And if I don't suck it up, pay and take lessons, I may not be allowed to teach Special Student if she comes back in two months. Not that I have faith that they'll actually give her back to me at this point.

So many things swirling around in my head, so much struggle. I am so tired. So tired of this odd cycle of getting my heart broken every two years. I just want some peace and quiet. A routine, things I can count on. Stability and whatnot. 

And I have a bad feeling that the Universe does not have this in store for me any time soon.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

A Few Hours Later, "Apocalypse Now".

"Never get off the boat." - Apocalypse now

Maybe that's the problem. I keep trying to get off the boat. What would I do with my own barn, anyway? I can't train people to the Olympic level or even to the National Horse Show in New York, and who really wants to take lessons for years just to ride competently and have fun?

Put your head down. Stay on the boat. Go to work. Go home. Make food. Clean things. Sleep. Get up and do it again. Abandon the idea that there are Gods who care about your little life. Just put your head back down and get back on the damn boat. Outside the boat lay tigers, and even worse than being eaten by a tiger is failing to be eaten by the tiger.

All I want is to go home. Back on the boat, which is my mother's house, in the town I couldn't get away from fast enough in my late teens. I want to sit in her yard and refuse to ever move again until the coyotes come and either lick the tears from my face or eat my bones clean.

I am no longer a trainer, and I have no idea who or what I am now, so I don't much care which it would be. I just want some peace and damned quiet for a change. I am not a creator god, I am not a good witch who can't be kept down. I am just a tired woman who's been fighting too much for too long.