Almost There...

We're getting closer, folks! Samhain is almost here. I love the changing of the leaves, the cooler weather, the crisp blue skies...OK, we're about to get a hurricane on the 29^th and 30^th, but hey! It's been that kind of a Samhain-tide. All I can do is laugh...in hysterics. At least I don't have to worry about a roof blowing off or a cellar full of water.

The fun continues. Thank you, friends, for your good thoughts about Ellen reuniting with her cat. Perhaps I should have included a picture of Karla so you all had a specific kitty upon which to focus. So far, she has been given a kitten, and caught a calico stray in her have-a-heart trap. Any more, and she'll turn into our local “crazy cat lady”. (Actually, she returned the kitten after a failed attempted to give me a new pet. Rufus is coming home next week, and I have no desire to face the wrath of Ru!) This is Karla:

 

I went to the eye doctor to complete my exam and pick up my new glasses. I had to do that dreaded field of vision test. You know the one: one eye is covered and you stare into a machine with the other, looking ahead as little white lights flash on and off all around the peripheral. Your job is to press your clicker whenever you see one. Problem is: they leave an after image on my retina and I end up seeing lights all over the place! I HATE that thing!!...OK. I'm calm now. The good news: pressure in both eyes is down and everything looks spiffy. Bad news: got home, tried on my new glasses, and the left eye is completely blurry. $398 dollars for glasses I can't use. I will go back and have them adjusted, AFTER Samhain, and after the flood waters from the hurricane subside. (Eye doctor is down the shore. Lucky me.)

 

Claude is doing better, although she is in pain. She expressed her displeasure at my posting her “wicked witch” picture... so I KNOW she's getting better! (Love you, Claude. Don't yell at me. I only have one synaptic cleft left and the neurons are barely speaking.)

Prescriptions have been lost at pharmacies, medical faxes have gone astray, food orders have gone wonky, my sisters showed up at the house and resurrected the Spanish Inquisition regarding my diet, my finances, yadda yadda. OH! And we finally found all my makeup...behind the couch in a cloth bag.

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Anyway, I have my musical selection for you - “Night on Bald Mountain” a la Disney's “Fantasia”. Pay particular attention to the demonic figure. Look familiar? A famous Universal actor agreed to pose for the character. His name was Bela Lugosi.

For the Sherlock fans out there: Please continue to support the Save Undershaw Project. Doyle's home has been saved from conversion into apartment units, but it is a far way from being restored. This is the place where so many great tales were penned, including “Hound of the Baskervilles”.

I also have a seasonal treat for you. It's a little video entitled “Sherlock Holmes and the Undead”. Enjoy!

Samhain-tide, Get Off My Hide!

I have often told my friends and family, “It's Samhain-tide. If anything can go wrong, it will.” Last week was a perfect example.

Claude was released from re-hab (she had a knee replacement) and was home for a week. She had several panic attacks, but I was always able to talk her down. Last Monday, I got a call at 9am. It was Claude and Jack. She was crying and he was saying, “I can't calm her down. YOU try.”

I couldn't either.

I had her get dressed and had Jack drop her off at my house. I kept her for a few hours but couldn't get her to eat, sleep or stop crying and making those constant “huh huh huh” noises while rocking. Finally, she stated she wanted to go to the Emergency. I convinced Jack to drive, and off we went at 3pm to Princeton at Plainsboro. (Don't any of you DARE make “House” jokes. Tain't funny.) Finally, at 9pm, she was admitted.

Four days later, lots of hydration and tests, and they found nothing. She was feeling better, so they sent her home. The next morning, at 9am, Jack calls. “Is my wife with you?” I thought he was kidding. Claude and I are so close, we endure endless verbal barbs about “being a couple”. So I answered, “You better hope not; I'm in bed.”

He wasn't kidding – Claude was gone. No note, no sign, just apparently rolled through the bedroom wall into another dimension. As I was talking to Jack, I got a message on my mobile. Nurse Jackie from St. Peter's Hospital called to say that Claude fetched herself an ambulance in the wee hours of the morning, and was in Peter's A&E with shortness of breath. Please tell her husband.

Jack was on the verge of collapse. It's OK to get yourself to the hospital; NOT OK to do so as a disappearing act. (I chastised her proper once she got back home.) End result: congestive heart failure, probably caused by all that hydration at Plainsboro. They kept her until Saturday when I ...again... had to don my knee walker and show Jack how to get to New Brunswick. He worried about getting lost the entire way, even though it was my home turf.

Claude on a good day

and not so good day

MEANWHILE... Friend Ellen's 14 year old cat managed to escape unnoticed into the night and has yet to return. Karla was her buddy and she was wracked with guilt that she hadn't detected her escape until an hour later. (In Ellen's defense, Karla hides in the house quite often, so there was no reason for alarm until the food dish went untouched.) Ellen and I made various calls back and forth. I had to support my friend. There was no question of doing otherwise, but the stress was mounting. (Everyone send out a little prayer that Karla and Ellen get reunited!)

THEN – I get a phone call saying Joe and Helen were coming to visit from Thursday until Saturday. These folks are like another set of parents to me, as they are 19 years older. Helen is great: when she comes she helps me go through boxes, do laundry, organize my books. We always get a lot done. Joe is no longer ambulatory, except to get from the car to my rocker, the rocker to the WC, and back. Meanwhile, he issues orders and shouts questions which are impossible to answer from another room like:

“Kat, what's that over there?”

“Over WHERE, Joe?”

“Over there!”

“Define 'there'”.

“THERE! RIGHT THERE!”

Three days of this, folks.

They left Saturday, and Sunday afternoon my in-laws arrived to stay overnight. Peter and Diana (brother-in-law and wife) and I always get along great. They were staying with me, while my mother-in-law stayed with Gary in Asbury Park. Now, I usually get along with Mom, but she is getting older and more sensitive. Due to my stressful week, I wasn't exactly in a patient mood myself. Mom started making negative comments about another family member. When I mentioned that this individual once wrote me and said that perhaps my spiritual path resulted in my Cancer (six years ago), she exploded. “He never did that!” I was virtually called a liar in front of my family and friends, in my own home.
 

Yesterday, I had to give a three hour deposition regarding my law suit (I was taped at work using the rest room, as were 59 other women. Naturally, we're suing.) I got a letter saying my company overpaid me and I had to send a cashier's check for almost $1000... and my mother-in-law and Gary are coming to visit again towards the end of the week. I'm not overjoyed with Gary, either. He told his family, out of my hearing, that I misunderstood the letter I had received re: cancer. He read said letter himself, and knows there was no “misunderstanding”. I got thrown under the bus, people!

Finally, I got to use my shoe and brace for the first time today, and my leg was swollen so it rubs on the brace. I also need a new shower chair...another expense. Oh! And I packed makeup to wear at the Para X last week. When I got to the show, the bag was in my grip but the makeup was gone... just gone. I still haven't found it. That's a good $50 right there.

Samhain. You're killing me.

We still have two weeks to go. Holy Mary....

Anyway, I have  three videos for you today. The first is for Sherlock fans. After having folks tease that Claude and I are a bonded pair....

(“We are NOT a couple.”

“Sure you are. You are a couple who love each other without having sex.”

“There's an English word for that: Friendship...you igit.”)

...I kind of understand John Watson's frustration.

And for the classical selections: Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Ah...Bach.

As well as Grieg: In The Hall of the Mountain King.

Hang on there, everyone! Samhain got ta end sometime.

Para-Excellent!

The Para-X was held this past Saturday, and I had a blast! 

Thanks to Karen Timper and her group (New Jersey Ghost Organization) for holding the event. Thanks to everyone who bought books and Graven Images Oracle decks, and all the folks who chose me to do their readings.  I was honored. 

 I had a very full lecture room for my Wicca 101 presentation, and that was well received.  Sorry to anyone who wanted to speak with me after.  I had people lined up for readings (for which they had already paid) and I couldn't stop to chat, much as I would have enjoyed that. Take heart!  My e-mail address and blog address were in the give-away packets we handed out during the lecture, so feel free to use them.  There were some very interesting questions raised during the presentation that I would love to discuss at greater length!

Thanks also to:
!) Charlene for being my driver, fetch, carry, promoter and friend. I can always count on you to chat up my talents!

2) Keith, the nephew, for being there all day, running errands, helping break down my area after the show, and allowing me to use him as a point of focus during my talk on directing energy.  There's nothing like a room full of people pointing their fingers at you by command of your aunt. Hope the paranoia after-glow faded quickly.

3) Thanks to my friend Lori from Philadelphia, who braved the trip with kids and buddy in tow, only to get lost.  At least you made it to the presentation and, hopefully, got to see a few vendors before they packed up. You took it in your stride. That's why I love ya!

4) ..And thanks to Ellen, who made time in a busy day to come, only to find me drowning in a sea of people.  Yipes!  Sorry I had to neglect you. 

Scenes from the vending floor

The Lytle sisters: Denise and Yvette. Check out Yvette's Etsy shop "Happy Harpy"

My table

My crew: Charlene and Keith

Friends from Philly

One very tired Kat

Now for the musical selection.  You may remember the opening of this music as the theme from "Alfred Hitchcock Presents"... if you're as old as dust, like me.  The show went off the air in 1962, but anyone who remembers it will think of Hitch's profile as soon as the music starts. (The rest of you can look it up on YouTube!) Here, then, is Gounod's "Funeral March for a Marionette". (It starts a bit slow, but keep watching.)

Harvest Hurry

October already! What kind of a time vortex have I fallen into? This Saturday is the Para X in East Brunswick. I remember being in the hospital thinking, “Oh, by October I should be up and walking. No problem.”

Wrong... but I'm getting there.

Meet my new shoe and brace.

It's not the medieval torture device I had envisioned. I took my first few steps since this entire ordeal began almost a year ago. It felt strange, but good. I won't be using this until my physical therapist is here from visiting nurse service, but I should be walking with a walker in a few weeks. Fingers crossed.

The Anam Cara has been released from rehab. Claude is doing very well, and is now at home. She will also be doing physical therapy. Gods! We're the walking wounded around here! The replacement knee surgery went very well and, although she is in pain now, ultimately she'll be glad she did all this. Her attitude is great, her spirits are up, and I am very proud of my gal. Atta girl, Claude!

Meanwhile, the show must go on. I put together my presentation and my handouts for Saturday's lecture ( I will also be selling my books and doing Tarot readings). I'm going extremely high tech for this:

That's right. I've finally gotten into the 20^th century. Big improvement over the rock and chisel I used in the past. Hey, I printed off exhibits onto full page “Post It” sticky picture paper and attached them to my presentation pad, PLUS (brace yourselves) I have a laser pointer. Well... OK. It belongs to Rufus. He likes to chase the red dot. But on Saturday it is a lecture tool. Folks have brought down PLANES with these things, people! I will have the power!! (...until the shih tzu comes home).

Now, on to the musical portion of the program. My first selection is Chopin's “Funeral March”. I bet a bunch of you thought this was composed purely for Warner Brothers cartoons ala Chuck Jones. Nope! It's a bona fide piece of spooky, classical gloom.

My second selection is a particular favorite of mine. I encountered Schubert's “Erlkonig” in University. I was shocked to recognize the opening as the “chase music” from dozens of silent movies. Little did a know there was a mystic, macabre story behind the music, based on the old legend of the Erlkonig. Below is the English translation of the German, and an Illustrated video of the song with the original verses.

Everything sounds more frightening in German.

Who rides, so late, through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy well in his arm
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.

"My son, why do you hide your face so anxiously?"
"Father, do you not see the Elfking?
The Elfking with crown and tail?"
"My son, it's a wisp of fog."

"You dear child, come, go with me!
Very lovely games I'll play with you;
Some colourful flowers are on the beach,
My mother has some golden robes."

"My father, my father, and don't you hear
What the Elfking quietly promises me?"
"Be calm, stay calm, my child;
The wind is rustling through withered leaves."

"Do you want to come with me, pretty boy?
My daughters shall wait on you finely;
My daughters will lead the nightly dance,
And rock and dance and sing you to sleep."

"My father, my father, and don't you see there
The Elfking's daughters in the gloomy place?"
"My son, my son, I see it clearly:
There shimmer the old willows so grey."

"I love you, your beautiful form entices me;
And if you're not willing, then I will use force."
"My father, my father, he's grabbing me now!
The Elfking has done me harm!"

It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on,
He holds the moaning child in his arms,
Reaches the farm with trouble and hardship;
In his arms, the child was dead

 

Humm... Sweet dreams!

 

                          

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ravin' at Mabon

Time seems to fly these days. Lammas is barely over and here we come to the Autumnal Equinox, the start of Harvest, or Mabon. This is the celebration of equal night and equal day, heading into the season of the God (which really begins at Samhain – Halloween for you “normals” out there).

 

In times past, I would be holding Circle, either here at home or in Red Bank, NJ. I would have soaked the wheat in preparation of making the corn dollies that mark our particular observance of this turn of the Wheel. We would buy wheat at a craft store, purchase ribbon and thread, soak the wheat, dry the wheat, lug everything up a hill or out by the altar, do the ritual portion of our observance, then settle down to lead everyone in the braiding of the wheat. The resulting “corn” dollies would hold the spirit of fertility during the course of Winter – or fallow months. Traditionally, the corn dollies would be plowed back into the earth when the fields were prepared for planting during the Spring.

 

Yeah. That's what usually happens... but not this year. My Anam Cara is in rehab after having knee replacement surgery. I'm still tooling around the house on my knee walker. There is no one to buy the wheat, and no tub in which to soak it even if we have some. (While I was was at rehab earlier this year, my siblings had my tub removed and replaced with a step-in shower.) No one is capable of climbing a hill any longer, or hauling vats of supplies through the darkness up to a Circle site.

Me and mine have been called part of the Old Wiccan Vanguard... emphasis on the old.

Meh.

So in celebration of the Equinox, I shall consume a wheat muffin with creamed pumpkin spice honey, update this blog, and welcome my nephew, later this evening, for a viewing of “Camel Spiders”. Bad movie night lives!

I have gotten word that my shoe and brace are completed. The tech is coming Tuesday for a fitting, so things are coming along. This is the scary time – when the ankle will be put to the test. If it doesn't hold up, then it's game over. I will loose the leg. So, everybody, keep the good thoughts coming and continue thinking “Biped, biped, biped..” I am rather attached to my left leg; it's been with me 58 years and we have a rather strong bond. I would hate to bid it adieu.

I had a little good news, lately. I learned that an article I wrote two years ago is slated for publication next Fall 2013 in Sage Woman. Wow. Such is the world of publication: time moves according to its own clock. For some magazines, three years wait time is a blink of the eye.

With the coming of Autumn, I decided to start something new for this blog: a selection of classical music for the approach of Samhain. I know a lot of you aren't into this genre of music, but you probably have more exposure to it than you realize. I was going to do the selections in some kind of order, but decided against it. After all, who am I to grade these spooky Masterpieces? Instead, I'll merely offer up my picks in no particular order, ending with my absolute favorite on Halloween.

All of my selections are via YouTube, and I tried to pick those that were animated. I am going to start with a piece that has been used for everything from selling cars to advertising running shoes. It's that wonderful work by Carl Orff who, in 1936, took the manuscript Carmina Burana (poems written during the 11^th and 12^th centuries) and set them to music. The opening song “O Fortuna” has been a staple in films and TV for years.

I present to you two versions. The first shows you the Latin and its translation. It is important for you to know exactly what is being said, because the second version is an animated video based on what some brilliant and creative minds term “Misheard Lyrics”.

Enjoy...and Happy Mabon!

P.S. For those of you in the area, don't forget to come see me at the Para-X in East Brunswick, NJ at the Elks Lodge. I will be lecturing on Wicca, as well as reading the tarot. Event date is October 6^th. Please come and say Hi! I'll still be non-weight bearing on my left foot, so come see how I roll!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Currently, my life seems to be on hold. I'm waiting for my custom shoes to be finished, then I have to wait for the brace to be made, which means I have to wait before I start physical therapy and allow Rufus to come home. I have to wait for someone to help me with groceries, wrapping my leg, emptying the dryer, taking out the garbage. Although I have managed to handle quiet a lot on my own, with one leg and a knee walker, I still can't do some simple tasks like vacuuming my rugs.

This doesn't mean the world stops turning. I still have to do things like renew my driver's license.. in person. So, on a mid-week day (hoping the crowds would be thinner) Gary and I set off for the MVC (Motor Vehicle Commission).

 

New Jersey's old DMV was a nightmare, with wait lines that took hours and mass confusion everywhere. Plus, the rudeness of the staff was legendary. If you hold a NJ license and dealt with these folks in the 80's and 90's, you know the truth of which I speak. The one thing that past governors were able to do was clean up the process. Usually you can go in and out within ½ hour.

The old days, with lines out the door.

Not us. Gary and I got in line for license renewal and, immediately, I knew we were in for a long wait. I can't stay standing on my roll-about for long: my back starts to throb and I need to sit down. There was one seat left, so I headed for that while Gary held my place. I struggled to position myself onto the seat, other folks around me pretending they didn't see me...except for the one gal opposite. She offered help, was very friendly, and knew exactly what I was going through. She had been a nurse dealing with my kind of surgery. We struck up a very comfortable conversation, one Gary joined once my paperwork was processed and we were waiting for my photo to be taken. I actually enjoyed the wait, in the end exchanging names, etc. I even told her about my books.

This year, you can not use your old picture on the new license. You have to take glasses off, and you may not smile. I was not prepared for that. My skin was sweaty, my hair limp, and my face was flushed from moving around on the roll-about. The resulting picture (below) was the BETTER of the two shots they took. I look like the wreck of the Hesperus. You might even see bits of driftwood in the background, for all I know. I look 98, not 58, and felt about that aged. After this, my license goes into the vault of time, never to be shown again unless you have a badge.

It's blurry but... was I telling a lie?

When I came out to wait for my finished license, there were no more seats. I looked around at the males, and young healthy females, all firmly parked in place and said, aloud, “I guess I'll just stand here.” At that point, the young lady behind the desk said, “Miss? Take this chair.” She offered me a spare office chair and then started saying, loudly, “You would think that someone younger would have offered you a place to sit. People are selfish, and there are no gentlemen left in the world. You all should be ashamed!” I laughed to see the bowed heads and guilty looks. Wow.

Later that day, I had to make yet another appointment to get my eyes checked. I gave my name to the clerk, who promptly asked me to spell it. OK, I can see where Katharine can get spelled various ways, but Clark? It's either “e” or no “e”. What's so hard? Yet, time and again I'm told, “No. Spell your LAST name for me.” Really.

Rather than get annoyed, I called my Claude and told her about it.

“Well, I don't know, “ she said. “I've seen it spelled with a 'Q'.”

“That's QUARK, ya git, It's a particle of matter...or a cheese... not a surname!”

“Well, I didn't know, OK?”

I started to giggle. “Next time someone asks, I'm going to tell them I only spell it in Egyptian: owl, squiggly line, ankh, eye of Horus, feather. Some people put an extra owl at the end. I don't.”

We were both in hysterics for a good five minutes.

I think this says "handicapped chariots only"

Late last week, another friend and I went down to Cape May (my first time) to go on a 3 hour whale watch. We had to use not only the leg walker, but also the wheelchair. Crew helped push the wheelchair up the ramp and onto the boat, and tried to maneuver it around the deck, but my chair is very wide. They stored it below deck while my friend fetched the roll-about, and that is how I moved on a speeding ship. Ever try to use the head, get in and out of a cabin, and stay topside on wheels? Every passenger over 400 lbs (and there seemed to be many) insisted on shoving past me and my poor useless leg.

We saw dolphins right before my buddy discovered she gets sea sick on open ocean. Great. She retreated into the cabin while I stayed outside, loving every minute in the sea air, watching wave and sky form the horizon. We never did see a whale (it's called a watch, after all, not a hunt) and so I joined my friend inside for the return to port. The crew not only fetched me something to eat and drink, they also got me off the boat, and stayed with me as I made my way across stone and gravel to the bathrooms. Afterwards, when my friend had pulled up the car and I got myself placed inside, a young boy who was in the queue for the bathroom ran over and helped her get my wheelchair into the car.

Lovely boat, lovely crew..BIG passengers!

So, here is the lesson learned: even the difficult, the annoying, the frustrating provide opportunities for connections. Although there are plenty of “I” centric folks in the universe, there are those who are still wiling to reach out, be friendly or be helpful. Even frustrating phone calls can be a source for cheering up a friend stressed at work. The trick is to relax, see the opportunities for the positive in people, situations, yourself. This is a great big schoolroom, after all.

BTW: Not only did my friend spend the majority of the time having her stomach roll with the waves, but my camera ate the few pictures I was able to get of us, the boat and the pod of dolphins. That's alright. We looked like crap anyway.

 

Till next time... chins up, people!

 

P.S. For the Sherlockians among you, Moffat and Gatiss have reveled the three clue words for next year's season three of Sherlock: Rat, Wedding, Bow. Will they finally write about the Giant Rat of Sumatra? Are they marrying off John? Are they doing a tale from His Final Bow? You tell me!

Go, Team Baker Street!

The Promise of Lammas

We're only a few days shy of Lughnasad, or Lammas. In the Celtic year, where half is the domain of the Goddess and half that of the God, it is the yang in the yin, the celebration of the male force in the season of the Goddess. (The opposite is also true. Imbolc – Feb 2^nd – is the celebration of Brigit in the season of the God – the yin in the yang, as it were).

How appropriate that the Olympics are being held in Brittan at this time, for part of the observance where games of strength. Lughnasad was a time of truce, so that even warring clans could meet together to make agreements, trade goods, and hold handfastings (or marriage rituals).

Lugh (pronounced “Loo” not “Lug”..he's a God, not a bolt) dedicated this day to his foster-mother Tailtiu, who died on August 1^st. Her final wish was that games be held in her honor. Talantiu is the older version of her name, which means “Great one of the earth”. In all likelihood, Tailtiu was another manifestation of the sacred earth itself, a mother who labored to bring forth life. So to, at this time of year, the earth labors to bring forth the grain crops that will sustain her people through the final harvest in the Fall, and throughout the Winter. Strength, courage and endurance is required to believe in the continuance of life and to perform the labor necessary to sustain it. Thus, the games which promote these qualities. The Greek Olympics are old, but the Celtic games are even older. May the Goddess bless the victors, and let the games commence!

These are the official mascots of the London games. What the freak....!?

This time of year is also called Lammas” or “Loaf Mass”. The green wheat was baked into an almost indigestible loaf of bread and taken to the church to be blessed. Later, each member of the family would eat a small piece of the loaf. Again, as with the games, the bartering, the vending and the weddings, it was a show of faith in the crops, a belief that the seeds we plant would sprout, sprouts would become mature plants, and plants would be healthy and strong for the harvest.

At this time of year, it would be wise to contemplate what dreams and goals you set forth in the beginning of the season, what bore fruit (or is in the process of maturing) and what you believe will be brought to harvest in the end. May all your endeavors be successful!

On other fronts... Rufus is back with his groomer and her family for a few weeks while my shoes and brace are being made. They came on Friday (Debbie and her girls). Rufus took one look at them, ran into their arms, and that was it for Mummy. He barked at my door as if to say, “Come on, let's blow this joint”...he would not kiss me good-bye, and the last I saw of my baby was his fuzzy, purple tailed butt as it skipped out the door. Thanks a lot, Rufus. Love you, too.

This week, I will be writing my Fate Magazine piece on Glastonbury. It's time I sat my own butt in my chair and got on with business. Claude and I also came up with an awesome idea for a new project, but I have to run it past a few people first to see if we can pull it off. More on that later.

My readers for “Journeys End” are starting to report back with interesting comments. Chief among the complaints? I can't spell. Well...duh, do you know me? That's why the manuscript for the book on Irish Gods and Goddesses is called “Myth Spelling”. It's not just because we look at the magic associated with each deity, but also as an inside joke.

Anyway...

A final note for the Sherlock Fans.. Martin Freeman confirmed at Comic-Con that the next season will be filming between January and April. Also, Sherlock BBC has been nominated for 13 Emmys. I think that calls for...a little caramelldansen!

(Hey, aren't you all shocked I figured out how to embed something? Moi? The one who's technology runs to hansom cabs and quill pens? Let's hear some kudos, people!)

A Happy and Safe Lughnasad to you all.