Thursday, October 30, 2014


It's Samhain, folks, Sherlock style. Thanks to all the wonderful fan artists who appear below, as well as the pumpkin carvers! 

Sherlock got your gourd?

... And now, a little Nightmare Before Sherlock...

  Happy Halloween and Good Samhain to all!!

Sunday, October 26, 2014



It's Samhain. Wiccans and Pagans worry about the following, in the days leading up to October 31:

The opening of the gates of Life and Death:

The blighting of the crops:

The rising of the Pooka:

The reaping of the Dead:

The darkness of predictions:

The coming of the Crone:

The time of the God of Winter/ Death:

The Visiting of the Dead:

The Wandering of the fey:

Here's what you non-Pagans worry about:

And you all think WE'RE weird.

Happy Halloween, and Good Samhain, everyone!

Monday, October 20, 2014


It happens every year. The Autumnal Equinox comes and goes, and we head for the Celtic New Year. Yup, its Samhain-tide, when the veil between the worlds grows thin, and we prepare for the gates of Life and Death to swing wide on October 31st.

...And as the barrier between the worlds becomes more and more permeable, things begin to happen. I've often told my Wiccans, “At Samhain-tide, if it can go wrong, it will.” Happily, no permanent harm is ever done. It's just annoying. Your computer crashes, the tires go flat, you can't seem to keep hold of open bottles which bathe your rugs in soda, etc. You trip on your own feet and start a domino effect of things falling into other things with ludicrous speed. Yeah. Samhain-tide.

Those who have passed on find ways to let us know they are here. Things tend to happen at my house which would turn the hair of “normals” white – if they believed me. But THIS year, in a few instances, I've had WITNESSES! Oh yes! Huzzah! Vindication at last!


Greenies on Parade: The first indication that things were starting up was the Greenie bag. Rufus LOVES Greenies. He will sit up, bark, say “I love you”, high five, and invade your personal space until he gets one. So, in the middle of a crystal lesson with friend Bob, I had to do a Greenie brake. I then placed the sealed Greenie bag back in my sofa-side basket.

A minute later, it started to walk. OK, I told myself, the contents are just shifting. The bag grew still, and I went back to the lesson. The bag started to walk again. I paused; silence fell. I started teaching once more, and I heard rustling. I beckoned Bob over and simply said, “Watch this bag.”

The bag started to move around the basket. “The bag is moving” stated Bob. The bag went quiet and never moved again. BUT! Can I have a witness? AMEN!

Away We Go: The next little trick had no witness, which is good. I was sitting on the loo when my knee walker decided to take a itself. I managed to snare it at the last moment and pull it back. “Don't muck with that,” I yelled. “I need it to walk!”

It hasn't strayed since.

Score!: Rufus saw the next instance, not that he'd tell you. He's still mad at me for this year's Halloween costume. I read before going to sleep. I sit on my bed, and use a set of hug lights. (If the room is too bright, Mr. Rufus does not settle down.) Because the hug light eats up batteries, I always have extra in my knee-walker basket. This particular night, as I tried to plow through yet ANOTHER Laurel K. Hamilton sex-fest, there came a rustling from my walker basket. Suddenly, a battery hurled itself out of that one and into a basket on the floor by my end table.

Rufus and I looked at each other, then down into the basket. “Nice shot.” I said to no one in particular, and returned to my book.

Next up: The Curious Incident of the Keurig in the Daytime. My wonderful housekeeper, Gocha, made me a cup of coffee. The machine spit out a full cup of Pumpkin java, then stopped. Gocha put on the lid, handed it to me, and stood talking as I sat at the dining room table. Minutes go by. Then, we both hear a gurgle, and Gocha makes a drive fore the machine. Mr. Coffee decided to make HIMSELF a cuppa, so he turned himself on, then brewed and spewed himself some liquid caffeine, sans cup. Witness #2!! Thankfully, Gocha agreed to stay on!


Don't be Alarmed: I had a very long day, filled with a lot of stops and a lot of walking. By evening, I was done in, and fell asleep at my computer. I woke up to the panicked bark/voice of Rufus saying, “Mama! Mama!! MAMA!!!” (No, it's not magic. Rufus can say a few words.) My poor bunny boy kept looking over his shoulder towards the hall, from which emanated a constant tinging. My first thought was the furnace room. Something in there has been buzzing since June. If it was now “tinging” as well, I'd have to break down and call maintenance.

With Rufus behind me, I rolled towards the furnace doors. No tinging. It was coming from my bedroom! There I found an alarm clock, which I haven't used in 3 years, buried in the bottom of my floor basket, next to the flying battery, ringing its heart out. It rang for over 10 minutes. This alarm clock isn't designed that way.

Them!: Last week, I had my friend Helen visiting for a few days. The evenings were nicely cool, so we watched TV with my back sliding door open (The screen was closed.) Suddenly, there was a loud “TWANG!” against the screen.

What was THAT?” I shouted. Helen suggested it was just a big bug. I thought it would have to have been a 20lb bug, but let it pass.

The next evening, after she retired, it happened again. I ignored it. After taking Helen home on Thursday, I opened the door once more. My neighbor happened to come by and walk up to the screen to say hello to Rufus. It was then we discovered that the bottom had been pushed in, as though something had tried to enter. Good thing I warded my home. 20lb. bug my aunt Fanny. The screen gets fixed tomorrow. Maybe it will last past October 31.

There are 11 days left until the big night. If I start to find teeth marks in the cold cuts, toys lined up in my bedroom doorway starring at me, or “Hi!” written in Rufus pee across the rug, we're out of here. Days Inn, here we come!

As mentioned, Rufus hated his costume this year. Actually, hate doesn't even come close. I wanted this to be a great photo session since it might be his last. Epic fail. As you can see, the best shots featured him giving me the stink eye, and the costume. We may just try something a bit more enjoyable. I'd hate for his last costume to be a torture device. (PS: He's suppose to be an owl.)

It's so hard being her shih tzu...

Here's a little Halloween treat that doesn't suck. His name is Teddy Bear.

It's coming for you, dear ones. Stay safe!