Last night's Solstice journey work was...interesting. In a "JESUS H. TAP-DANCING CHRIST WHY CAN'T I JUST SEE HAPPY SHIT WHY IS IT ALMOST NEVER BRIGID OR THE DAGDA OR YEMAYA OR SOMEBODY LIKE THAT" kinda way.
See, what I saw was this one-eyed man, dragging a dead reindeer through the snow by its antlers. And I thought, "Oh, right, so that's why the suit is red, because it's covered in blood and WAIT WHAT THE FRESH HELL".
I attribute years of Weird Shit Experiences to my ability to not flee the circle while screaming like a troop of violated Girl Scouts and turning Trothwy's pool into the Biggest Cleansing Bath Evar. I mean, ONE EYE. Ravens on his shoulders. A deer that didn't look like it had been hunted so much as savaged. I am pretty sure I know Who this is, and I do not like it. I do not like it in a car, I do not want to be Asatruar. I do not like dead deer or ham, I do not like them, "Old Squinty" You Am.
The Husband didn't fare much better. Without blogging things he might not want me to blog, I'll say that some of his ancestors got up to unpleasant hijinks, to put it mildly, and he got to see a lot of it in full Technicolor detail. While he was disturbed by this, he was also interested and pleased to have felt something profound and new, magically speaking (that's my little ray of sunshine!).
And then, just to balance things out, there was the sex. Which led to me having, at a - cough- climactic moment, a revelation. It struck me as so profound that I could not keep it to myself until a more appropriate time, and I cannot blame the Husband for being confused for a few seconds:
ME: Holy fucking shit. Damn. So that's why he comes down the chimney.
HUSBAND: What?
ME: Santa. Comes down the chimney. Because it's a birth canal. I mean, why else would you come into a house balls-first into a fire?
HUSBAND: Oh. I suppose that makes sense.
Since he isn't awake yet, I don't know how he slept, but I was treated to a nightmare in which Evn and I were trying to either blow up someone's apartment or make ammonia/bleach gas in it. While I can see us lobbing chickens over fences, I cannot imagine us indulging in chemical warfare. And while it sounds funny by light of day, monitor, and the influence of coffee, it was not funny at 3am or so. There were other nightmares, but I don't remember them. I am just fine with this.
THE OCELOT'S REVISED TO-DO LIST
Feed dogs & cat.
Feed horse.
Come home, eat, drink coffee, blog.
Go get a tree and some lights for it.
Get groceries.
Feed horse again.
Clean Area of Puppy Devastation so as to have somewhere to put up tree.
Put hyssop soap to good use (thank you, H.). Do same with Florida Water. Salt all the things.
Put horseshoe up over door.
Talk to all of Them about how I do not need That One-Eyed Guy in my life, so could they perhaps let him know that I am already well-spoken for, plz?
Feed other pets. Rush puppy out before she can piddle indoors.
Pack for tomorrow.
Fall over while thinking how peaceful it would be to be Episcopalian.*
*This is what my brain settles on when there has been a little too much Woo. It is not meant to imply in any way that I think Episcopals are spiritually shallow or lazy or anything of that sort. I just think that they probably don't see things out of the corners of their eyes for three weeks before Halloween, get dark visions about the true meaning of Christmas, etc.
**I am sincerely hoping we do not see any Santas today. I don't think I'm ready.
