I’m Well Cared For

The Butcher has this way of making me feel well-cared-for and supported, which I just love.  I’ve been slipping in my household duties lately.  I don’t know why.  I’ve just been distracted by spring, I guess.  And he’s done the dishes without complaint and cleaned the tub twice.


Have I cleaned the living room?  No.


And he showed me how to work his MP3 player so that I could take it with my on my trip and found me some headphones and left the car for me this morning in case I realized I needed anything out of it.


He even went back out and got soap and shampoo after we realized that the evil man-hating cashier at Walmart had failed to give us ours.


And he claims he’s actually going to post here while I’m gone.  That would be cool.


Anyway, I need to get in the shower and finish packing.  Somewhere along the way, I’ve turned into a girly girl.


I can remember when I would pack for trips like this–three days, two nights–when I was younger and I’d just lay out my sleeping bag, lay everything I needed for the two days in it, and roll it up.  I had that and a pillow.  Now, I have a big old suitcase which may end up being too heavy for me to actually get down the stairs, and I still don’t have everything I need, so I’m going to have to pack a backpack for the rest of it.


When did this happen?


Anyway, it should be a good time.  I wonder if we’ll do “Light as a Feather; Stiff as a Board”?


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I’ll Be Back Before You Even Have Time to Miss Me

The invitation said, in part:

I’d also like to start our process with a ceremony of some sort to honor the sacred work we are doing.  If you have special sacred tools that you use in your own practice (whatever that might be) or objects that you would like to place on an altar that we might create, please bring them.  All faith traditions (or lack thereof) will be honored in the circle we create.

and so, of course, I felt like I had to accept.  The chance to go sit on a mountain with a bunch of other funky people to see what you can pull forth out of There to bring over here is just not one a girl like me can pass up.

I couldn’t decide what to bring, but then I caught this awesome special on Stonehenge in which these crazy scientists built a scale Styrofoam replica of the site and, through a series of tests, came to hypothesize that Stonehenge isn’t actually built to mark the dawn of the summer solstice, though it does that, but to mark the evening of the winter solstice.  Further, they hypothesize that Stonehenge was the site of a great funeral rite that took place at the start of winter.  First, they think, a huge festival with pork and other foods would have been had at Woodhenge, a wooden circle located about two miles away from Stonehenge, and then the dead all brought to Stonehenge.

They think that wood, and by extension, Woodhenge was for the living and that it was important to have this ritual to allow the dead to move from the land of the living to the land of the dead and so the bodies were moved down the river from Woodhenge to Stonehenge there on the longest night of the year.

So, I’m bringing a stick Mrs. Wigglebottom picked up on our walk and a stone we found, both as a reminder of the living and the dead, but also because it comes from here, and so hopefully will return us safely home again.  I’m bringing the vertebrae from the turkey we had at Thanksgiving a couple of years ago, to honor family.  And an apple, in recognition of all the trouble all the apples in all good myths cause.

I’m also bringing Diet Dr Pepper, because I can’t go that long without caffeine.

I’ve got the Butcher all set up to post, I think.  Whether he will remains to be seen.

I’ll be back on Wednesday, with good stories, I hope.  And after that, the birthday nonsense starts.