Today is Samhain. It’s New Year’s Eve for some of us and it’s one of the most sacred of holidays.
It’s also the night when the veil between the worlds of living and spirit is thinnest. That makes it a really good night for spirit contact. Even if you don’t try, someone across the veil just might be trying to get your attention. Keep alert.
If you want to contact anyone who’s crossed over, always say a prayer of protection first as you never know who might be cruising the currents. If you are going to open yourself up to contact, be safe. To do it simply ask God or your favorite Higher Being to extend his/her loving protection around you.
You can also add this declaration: “Only those beings who love me and work with me in the light may come to me.”
Be firm. Mean it.
Do this if you’re going to dust off any divination tools like an ouija board or dowsing rods.
Eat well. I posted earlier about foods associated with Samhain and offered a recipe for my Nightshade Casserole. If you’ve been meaning to try it, why not give it a go tonight? You don’t have to, but it would dovetail nicely with the holiday.
And set an extra place at the table for any spirit who stops by.
Whatever you do tonight, be it Trick or Treating or doing a reading, enjoy it. Get right into it and don’t come back out until you’ve had all the fun possible. Enjoy the night.
Happy New Year.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Talk About Gall
This tree has some character. It makes me think of magical forests and I fully expected to see a gnome or small mythological beastie pop its head around from behind it as I took the photo.
Sadly, what the tree has is gall. Something like an insect, bacteria, injury or what-have-you attacked it and changed its hormones.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Gratitude Monday – Soul Restocking
It’s Monday again and I am happy. Another week starts full of hope and possibilities.
The past week ended with a lovely walk in the West Country yesterday and lunch in Nordegg. It was once a thriving coal town on the edge of the Rockies, but the mine has been closed for more than 50 years. Tours of it are available in the summer, but mostly the area is devoted to recreation.
It’s in the mountains with plenty of camping, hiking, fishing, horseback riding, and most anything else you want to do right at it’s doorstep. It’s also got a hotel, restaurant, gas station and small store and it’s very busy during summer and hunting season.
It’s about 50 miles west of Rocky and an easy, scenic drive. I’m grateful for that. A trip out west restocks the soul.
So another week starts and anything can happen. Events are good, bad or indifferent depending on our perspective. I’m going to make an effort to keep mine focused on good.
From the walk around Goldeye Lake
The past week ended with a lovely walk in the West Country yesterday and lunch in Nordegg. It was once a thriving coal town on the edge of the Rockies, but the mine has been closed for more than 50 years. Tours of it are available in the summer, but mostly the area is devoted to recreation.
It’s in the mountains with plenty of camping, hiking, fishing, horseback riding, and most anything else you want to do right at it’s doorstep. It’s also got a hotel, restaurant, gas station and small store and it’s very busy during summer and hunting season.
It’s about 50 miles west of Rocky and an easy, scenic drive. I’m grateful for that. A trip out west restocks the soul.
So another week starts and anything can happen. Events are good, bad or indifferent depending on our perspective. I’m going to make an effort to keep mine focused on good.
From the walk around Goldeye Lake
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
First Rejection In
The week started off with my first rejection from the last batch of queries and proposals. The batch went out earlier this month.
On the whole it was a pleasant enough rejection. It was even a bit helpful in that it thoughtfully listed the reference books available for finding publishers.
Still, it was a standard, general rejection thanking me for thinking of the company and wishing me luck.
On the one hand, when I’ve got queries and proposals out I live in hope. It’s a lovely place and I return there whenever I can and I stay as long as possible.
But on the other hand the quick rejection is humane. And there’s more to come. It was one of half-dozen sent out in this final round.
A few years back my first manuscript had a few bites. My second manuscript had a few as well, though less than the first. So far, the third hasn’t any.
I wonder, shouldn’t this be the other way around?
On the whole it was a pleasant enough rejection. It was even a bit helpful in that it thoughtfully listed the reference books available for finding publishers.
Still, it was a standard, general rejection thanking me for thinking of the company and wishing me luck.
On the one hand, when I’ve got queries and proposals out I live in hope. It’s a lovely place and I return there whenever I can and I stay as long as possible.
But on the other hand the quick rejection is humane. And there’s more to come. It was one of half-dozen sent out in this final round.
A few years back my first manuscript had a few bites. My second manuscript had a few as well, though less than the first. So far, the third hasn’t any.
I wonder, shouldn’t this be the other way around?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Beer Or Brain?
We’ve all heard various urban myths over the years. There’s a wee bit of believability in them until you give the story some thought. Once you do that, stories like the kidney removal are barely worth the effort it takes to shake your head.
My first urban myth came from my mom. I was about eight years old, I think, and had been outside on a winter’s day waiting for my parents to return from a trip to a nearby town. I was wearing earmuffs.
According to mom some poor fellow in that same nearby town had been out making deliveries two weeks earlier, wearing earmuffs, and he froze his brain.
The story stayed with me. I didn’t have the capacity for critical thought at that age to realize it was less than possible for this to happen. Eventually I realized the absurdity of it. Years later I told my husband the story. To this day he calls earmuffs “brainfreezers.”
Sometime in the mid-1990s mom told me the story again as it had just happened two weeks earlier.
Oh, well. Poor fellow.
If the frozen brain is absurd, then this next story is preposterous. I heard it about 20 years ago when I was working in Fort St. John in northeastern BC.
Seems some members of the local Native population spent a good deal of time outdoors in the winter consuming alcohol and building fires to stay warm. According to my boss, the editor of the local daily newspaper, one woman fell asleep by her fire and wound up in the local hospital for eight days. She was okay, but the beer in her stomach was frozen.
I started to say something, but realized it was pointless. It’s a good story in that it covers so many bases. Alcoholism, racism, medical marvels, mysterious ways of the Natives, plus it’s entertaining and it makes the brainfreezers story sound legitimate.
So I wonder, now that the cold weather is upon us, if I put on some earmuffs, lift a few, and then sleep outside, which will freeze first, beer or brain?
My first urban myth came from my mom. I was about eight years old, I think, and had been outside on a winter’s day waiting for my parents to return from a trip to a nearby town. I was wearing earmuffs.
According to mom some poor fellow in that same nearby town had been out making deliveries two weeks earlier, wearing earmuffs, and he froze his brain.
The story stayed with me. I didn’t have the capacity for critical thought at that age to realize it was less than possible for this to happen. Eventually I realized the absurdity of it. Years later I told my husband the story. To this day he calls earmuffs “brainfreezers.”
Sometime in the mid-1990s mom told me the story again as it had just happened two weeks earlier.
Oh, well. Poor fellow.
If the frozen brain is absurd, then this next story is preposterous. I heard it about 20 years ago when I was working in Fort St. John in northeastern BC.
Seems some members of the local Native population spent a good deal of time outdoors in the winter consuming alcohol and building fires to stay warm. According to my boss, the editor of the local daily newspaper, one woman fell asleep by her fire and wound up in the local hospital for eight days. She was okay, but the beer in her stomach was frozen.
I started to say something, but realized it was pointless. It’s a good story in that it covers so many bases. Alcoholism, racism, medical marvels, mysterious ways of the Natives, plus it’s entertaining and it makes the brainfreezers story sound legitimate.
So I wonder, now that the cold weather is upon us, if I put on some earmuffs, lift a few, and then sleep outside, which will freeze first, beer or brain?
Monday, October 22, 2007
Gratitude Monday – The Little Voice
The little voice inside will direct you properly. I’ve learned to heed mine, mostly, and it’s been worthwhile.
We’d been looking around for a new mattress to replace our 17-year-old foam IKEA mattress. I checked a store that specializes in foam mattresses. I checked IKEA, too. Something similar was available and it seemed logical to get the replacement from the store which sold me the product originally.
I was going to phone in the order and arrange for delivery (the nearest stores are two hours away) when I felt a nagging urge to check out a local furniture store.
I did. Spring-style mattresses were available and the store was having a sale. It looked good.
My husband was off work the next day so we went back, check things out again, and bought a new mattress. The price was good. Part of the deal on the sale was no GST being charged.
We bought it and brought it home. The whole transaction took less than an hour.
I heeded the voice that said to look there. Our mattress was replaced quickly and it was on sale.
The little voice inside is there for a reason. Sometimes it’s our intuition, other times it’s a guide or helper or angel who’s stopped by to nudge us along.
Usually we hear about this help when something life altering is involved. It’s good to be reminded that that the little voice speaks to the mundane, too, and for that I’m grateful.
We’d been looking around for a new mattress to replace our 17-year-old foam IKEA mattress. I checked a store that specializes in foam mattresses. I checked IKEA, too. Something similar was available and it seemed logical to get the replacement from the store which sold me the product originally.
I was going to phone in the order and arrange for delivery (the nearest stores are two hours away) when I felt a nagging urge to check out a local furniture store.
I did. Spring-style mattresses were available and the store was having a sale. It looked good.
My husband was off work the next day so we went back, check things out again, and bought a new mattress. The price was good. Part of the deal on the sale was no GST being charged.
We bought it and brought it home. The whole transaction took less than an hour.
I heeded the voice that said to look there. Our mattress was replaced quickly and it was on sale.
The little voice inside is there for a reason. Sometimes it’s our intuition, other times it’s a guide or helper or angel who’s stopped by to nudge us along.
Usually we hear about this help when something life altering is involved. It’s good to be reminded that that the little voice speaks to the mundane, too, and for that I’m grateful.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Throwaway Friday
I have no idea if this is a good thing to do. I wrote this several years ago and thought it had some potential.
It’s been languishing in a desk drawer for more than a decade. I thought I’d bring it out to the light, clean it up a bit, and set it free to roam the blogosphere.
Faery Day
I used to hide in a copse of willows just up the hill and watch. Their wings glittered as they caught the late afternoon sun. They’d swoop and dance just above the water near the bend in the creek.
I used to pretend, you know, as the warm August sun caressed their faces, that I was with them; singing and flying and laughing as they chased dragonflies above the sparkling water.
That was nearly 70 years ago. I hardly recognize the creek today. My willows are gone. It’s a bare spot now, though covered with the crisp yellow-brown leaves of October.
The water is barely a trickle. Waning daylight barely touches it.
Oh, wait. There. Out of the corner of my eye near the bank I see one, no two, more now. They are here. Oh, if I could just . . . what did you say? I’m sorry. My old ears. I can hardly hear you.
My eyes are heavy and I’m so tired, but I want to keep watching. And now I’m so light. So airy. And what’s that rushing sound?
I’m swooping and swirling and diving above the water at the bend. I’m smiling and I’m so happy. . . so happy.
They’re here, all around me, and they’re smiling too and they’re asking me something.
Why, yes. Yes. Thank you. I will dance with you today.
It’s been languishing in a desk drawer for more than a decade. I thought I’d bring it out to the light, clean it up a bit, and set it free to roam the blogosphere.
Faery Day
I used to hide in a copse of willows just up the hill and watch. Their wings glittered as they caught the late afternoon sun. They’d swoop and dance just above the water near the bend in the creek.
I used to pretend, you know, as the warm August sun caressed their faces, that I was with them; singing and flying and laughing as they chased dragonflies above the sparkling water.
That was nearly 70 years ago. I hardly recognize the creek today. My willows are gone. It’s a bare spot now, though covered with the crisp yellow-brown leaves of October.
The water is barely a trickle. Waning daylight barely touches it.
Oh, wait. There. Out of the corner of my eye near the bank I see one, no two, more now. They are here. Oh, if I could just . . . what did you say? I’m sorry. My old ears. I can hardly hear you.
My eyes are heavy and I’m so tired, but I want to keep watching. And now I’m so light. So airy. And what’s that rushing sound?
I’m swooping and swirling and diving above the water at the bend. I’m smiling and I’m so happy. . . so happy.
They’re here, all around me, and they’re smiling too and they’re asking me something.
Why, yes. Yes. Thank you. I will dance with you today.
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