Thoughts At The Grocery Store

 

Went grocery shopping with hubby the last couple of weeks. I did our shopping from 1985 to 2012. He took over in 2012 and has been doing it since.

Since my primary care doctor scolded me a couple of weeks ago I have been going with him, so I can explore healthy options.

Thanks to the Remicade I can do that now, although I’m still pretty pooped by the end, and almost laughably klutzy which we both get much comic relief from.

Today I walked around for the second week in a row, just bowled over by the ridiculous prices for so many items. Grocery prices are just off the charts.

Naturally the most inexpensive things are unhealthy junk. The healthy stuff is super expensive. This is a problem in our country. A big problem.

Healthcare and multi mega food companies are two areas that make some of the biggest profits in the United States. Anyone see a problem with that?

I found myself watching the employees at the store. How many of them can even afford to fill their cart? It’s a valid question.

I thought of the hoarding that people did at the beginning of the pandemic and realized how little we have evolved as a species.

Yesterday someone posted out here that she won’t hire anyone who had a gap in employment during the pandemic. Another posted that “of course everyone has options for transportation in this day and age.” I just can’t. Such mind blowing privilege.

So, yeah. Grocery shopping. I have a new appreciation for many things.

The total on our grocery bill literally frightened me today. But we have plenty of food. So far, our budget can handle it. How many cannot afford much? And how many stand in judgement and assume if someone is in trouble they must have earned it or deserve it somehow?

Grocery shopping must have been super strange during much of the pandemic. Rob never complained. But looking around the store today I thought how easily this house of cards we all live in could fall, if we don’t learn to unite in support of one another.

Do I think too much? Probably. But there’s a lot to think about these days.

Right Now

There is Magick 

Yes, with a K

It is in the sun beaming on my head 

In the tiny flying creature before my eyes 

In the pattern of clicking sounds 

From the thicket beside me

The small one answering me back as I click to him 

In the light on the water 

In the huge Heron flying overhead 

The scent of life in the wind

The falling leaves and acorn bombs

It is part of the ants and bees final preparations 

The birds who draw close 

Asking for a poem, just for them 

And always it is in the presence of the Ancient One, my Soul Friend 

Right now, this moment

Be glad of it, soak it in

You'll miss it later

If I were A Bird

If I were a bird

I would sit high up 

Perched in your strong branches 

We would talk all day

About the wind and the moon

And many other things 

Stories that most of the two legged ones have forgotten 

All is sacred 

I am so glad of you, so thankful 

My Old Friend 

Oh yes, it will be grand!

I will come back as a bird 

And we shall have such days!

Stay The Course

I think at times

I’d like to wake you up 

Then again, maybe not

You probably don’t want to know all of this, anyway 

Sometimes, even those of us who do know 

Have moments when we would like perhaps to forget 

But it doesn’t work that way 

So we’ll keep carrying you 

Like before 

Lately, you’re getting fuck all heavy 

Just so you know

It’s not that I think I’m all that 

Trust me, I’m not 

But this having to explain to you 

Why you’re supposed to care

About people, and the Earth

It’s just….bizarre 

I’m not so sure if I should go 

With dignified silence 

Or screaming?

Are you asking yourself the same thing?

Do I make you crazy? I’m sure I seem as bizarre to you as you do to me.

Today I went to the wild places

The hawk reminded me to look at things from the highest possible perspective.

Dragonfly said not to let the tough moments get me down. 

The tree people played with Zephyr, the west wind. They sang a beautiful, refreshing song.

All the plants showed me how to tell the severity of the upcoming winter.

Lastly, as I sat near the water, an ancient deer spirit reminded me that all times, places and worlds exist simultaneously. He said to remember that there’s a reason I have always had one foot on each side of the veil. Stay the course, he said. Stay the course.

Always, the mystic and the mundane collide. Forgiveness, understanding and compassion. They can be a tough commodity these days. Stay the course.  Stay the course.

Woman's Decision

 Whether people are comfortable with this or not, we, women, are the gateway. 

We are the ones who carry and give birth. We have our entire existence rearranged by this event. We are changed forever.

We alone have decision making rights over this body, and all that happens to it. 

I know two women who each had two children in their 20s. When they had their second child in their late 20s they wanted to have their tubes tied and they were told no by the doctor - that they were too young. Whether this would have ended up being a mistake for them or not later is irrelevant. It’s her body and it’s her choice. We do not owe you motherhood.  That is our choice.  And it is our choice when we are finished bearing children, if we choose to do so. 

Our society needs to catch up to including men in sex with responsibility, and providing better child care and support as other countries have for decades.

Reports have shown that for families hardest affected by the pandemic, the largest majority of those who have become unemployed are women.

Lower income families, and increasingly middle income families are being priced out  of many of the choices available to higher income families. This means decisions around work, where to live and child care are very challenging.

These are just a few of the things women do not have the luxury of ignoring when they are deciding whether to carry a child or not.

Many people frankly don’t care about the well being of a woman’s offspring. As long as she gives birth, somehow they feel washed clean. They’re done. That’s her problem now. 

Additionally, we live in a society that demonizes sexuality, discourages open discussion about it, teaches that you are a sinful, horrible person if your sexuality isn’t kept within specific, narrow limits and tells you birth control is a sin. 

This ridiculous teaching on birth control is, in and of itself, responsible for endless unplanned pregnancies.

I could easily go on for days. But until the “sperm contributor” has equal responsibility here, there is no discussion to be had.

Release

Just for an afternoon 

To live in the moment 

To let consequence and consideration flee 

To give my heart flight 

To allow my body to ask for what she needs

And receive it! 

To have my feet on the ground 

But nothing to carry 

To have no one to answer to 

To enjoy the delights of this life 

In blissful freedom 

Oh, yes

What a dream that would be 

Accommodating

 

You can spend so much time being accommodating

That when you start to pull back  

To take something for yourself 

When you shift that everyday rhythm 

Their true colors come out 

And it's not so pretty

That sweet veneer slips 

When you're not holding it up for them

But, no worries 

 I am Sovereign 

Never doubt 

I will prevail 

 

New Containers

 

Yesterday, I spent some time in my Sanctuary Room downstairs. This room houses my working altar, a table for crafts and divination, and a couch to relax.  There's a tiny kitchen where we store extra things and I have many witchy supplies, and the best thing of all, my very own bathroom. 

The Sanctuary Room is the only place in the house where I can have live plants.  This is a combination of where the sun comes in and......kitties.   The Sanctuary Room gets great sun most of the day, and Jack and Willy aren't allowed in this part of the house.  This is good because they just can't handle the temptation of live plants.  There would be soil, water and plants everywhere, and Jack would eat all of it, because he's Jack and that's what he does.  He reminds me of a goat sometimes.  "Oooh, what's THAT!?  I think I'll eat it!" And when you catch him doing this, he moves like lighting, just like when you catch a toddler putting a random inanimate object into their mouth.  Try catching a cat who does NOT want to be caught. 

So, no plants in the main part of the house.

Last weekend, I went to the plant nursery and got mint plants.  I was thinking, I'll get 1 or 2 plants. Yeah.  Famous last words, as they say.  I was like a kid in a candy store. I know some of you get this! So, I got five. FIVE.  Each is a different variety of mint.

I love using mint in cooking, tea blends, spell work, making mint oil and my brother's favorite which is using the oil made from the leaves to create a room clearing / freshening spray.  Every time I give  him a refill container, it's gone in 2 days! So I've really missed having my own mint. 

Over the past year or so, I've been working with "water only" plants.  It started with some segments of Pothos that ended up in water and were so happy that I never bothered giving them a pot.  After that, I took one of the endless babies off my mom's spider plant and it is loving the soil free environment, too. 

Recently, I came across a blog post written by a plant fanatic who grows all of her herbs this way all year round, and has for some time. THIS intrigued me.  In 2014 and 2015 I had begun quite a nice little collection of herbs growing here in our yard. I got sidetracked and unfortunately lost all of it because of neglect.  I've wanted so very much to get back to growing herbs! 

It has been challenging for us, for me, to get the sweat equity (due to rheumatoid arthritis) and the wallet lined up at the same time as the free time so I could begin my herb garden again. The yard is in need of attention on multiple levels and what will and will not happen this season is still up for grabs.  (We got a new weed whacker with saw attachment yesterday, so excited!)  Anyway, seeing that blog got me excited - I can try growing herbs INSIDE! 

So, the five plants made it  home last Saturday.  They were horribly pot bound, so badly that it was incredibly difficult for me to get the roots moving and flexible again.  I can't imagine how they were even soaking up any water.  Eventually, after a great deal of effort I got them all out of those tiny, tight pots and rinsed the roots. Each plant got a brand new, glass container, I picked up an assortment of inexpensive but cheerful and bright ones at Marshalls and the Dollar Store.  Each got some fresh water, and a new spot where they could enjoy the sun shining in the windows.

Fast forward to yesterday , one week later. I spent some time in the Sanctuary room, checking all of my plants.  When I got to the mint, there was a story unfolding.  3 of them were doing amazingly well, and appeared to have lots of life and even new growth! They had gone through a lot of their water and needed more.  They looked amazing!  The other 2 were struggling.  Lots of brown and yellow and not much water was gone.  I spent some time with all 5, talking with them, singing, trimming them, offering reiki and making sure everyone had enough water.  One didn't like his container so he got "new shoes."  So far, this morning, everyone looks happy and strong. Time will tell. 

The mint quintuplets have a lesson for us today, I think.  Lots has happened them.  They've always been in that plant nursery, always in those pots.  At first, the pot was safe, and warm and wonderful, with so much room to grow.  After a time, it wasn't so roomy, but there was sunshine and water and life wasn't so bad, you know?   Lately, it was just really crowded and unhealthy and it wasn't good at all but it was all they'd ever known.

Then, things got crazy.  A witch brought them home and was pulling and tugging on them, taking them out of their nice safe pots! Pieces were falling off  onto the ground, how could that be good?  She put them in water instead of pots, and placed them carefully in the sunshine. It was really tough to adjust.  What WAS this place?  Was this home now?  Where was their soil?  WTF!?  

As the days went on, a few of the mint quints decided, OK, hey....this is FABULOUS.  There's water, sunlight and a great chill atmosphere here.  I've got room to stretch out and it feels GOOD! The witch talks and sings to us, and I think I like that thing she does with the energy, that's nice. I feel stronger after she does that.  Some of the others really missed the plant nursery and all the other plants. They missed SOIL.  They missed being outside.  They were really just not sure of this new place. 

Time will continue in the Sanctuary Room for the mint quints and their adopted sibs who were there already.  Sunlight, water, trimming, talking, singing and reiki. They'll get to sit in when I do rituals. Some will continue to thrive, I hope all of them.  Some may not, and may need to go back to a soil planting, and that's ok.  Others may decide, NOPE, and fade away, returning to mother soil outside.

The mint quints reminded me that change can be really challenging for all of us. LIFE can be challenging.  We grow, we learn, we leave behind what doesn't work, we get better every day. We take on new things. Some may embrace this and revel in it, some need time to adjust and others fight to keep things the way they were.  Having a good support system around us sure helps, doesn't it, the way the quints have sunshine, water, and all the help I give them?  A good reminder to always lend one another a helping hand as we walk through this life together.   

Nature always teaches us things, isn't that the most amazing blessing? 

I'm feeling like next weekend I need to add some Rosemary to this herb and water love fest.

Well, it's time for this little witch to sign off, and do some more things around the house. The catbird outside is yelling at me to deal with the bird feeder and I want to dust some of my altars and shelves around the house.  Later, tacos for dinner with the family.  Enjoy your Sunday!

Speak To Me

 This is New England 

The stone walls still run through the woods 

Stacked by hands long dead 

Maybe an ancestor of yours, or mine 

What dreams accompanied that work?

The church steeples stretch toward the sky

Reminding us of so many prayers 

Some aloud, some only in the heart 

Answered or unanswered, we cannot know 

But for the messages we carry, encoded in our DNA

Street names that we have forgotten the meanings of 

Odds and ends in a little shop

Quaint to hang on the wall 

Who used them, what stories do they tell?

Family farms struggle to survive 

While so many who have worked the land before 

And now rest under her quiet grace 

Look on with a mixture of sadness and hope 

Brick walls of buildings, standing for 200 years 

Ask us to pause, and listen 

If we are very still, we can hear all who came before 

The lessons.  You still have much to learn, they say

We spoke our piece, and acted. What now shall YOU do?

For a very few, who come in humility 

Perhaps the land will tell you of the times before  

When all was green, the rivers ran clean 

And the people who lived here were one with the land

Before the endless betrayals

In the libraries, the keepers of the books 

Work to hold and honor the sacred history 

We must know it to learn from it 

Layer upon layer, endless stories 

They are everywhere, if you care to listen 

Silence yourself, and open your spirit 

This place is old, and while bodies may die

The stories, they never die 

What do they have to tell you?

The Swoop

 What is "the swoop" you may ask?  

Simply put, the swoop is when you see a situation, and without any further evaluation, you "swoop in' and fix it.  

Today, we're going to have a little chat about why "the swoop" isn't always a good idea.  I mean, in general helping people is good, right?  RIGHT?  

Not always!  Yes, I said that.  I'll wait, think about it for a minute.  It's OK. Go ahead, put your hands on your face and make like Macauley Culkin in Home Alone and do the shocked face. I assure you, I am neither crazy nor am I a selfish ass.   

See, that's the thing about the swoop.  We tend not to evaluate.  We just act.  We assume "the issue must be addressed" and worse yet we think we are the only one who can do it.  That isn't always the case, though.  Taking a few minutes to stop and think can be very valuable here. 

Does the issue actually NEED to be addressed?  Not everything does, you know. If indeed it should be addressed, are YOU the right person for that?  If you insert yourself into the situation, will you truly be adding value, can you truly help, or are you feeding your ego? Lastly, if constructive action is to be taken, what does that look like, let's define it.  Who is best to carry out these actions?  What is the expected end result, and when is this complete?  Adding specifics keeps things from dragging on without resolution. 

Another important factor is what I fondly refer to as "The Level 2 Swoop."   The Level 2 Swoop isn't just trying to fix something for someone.  Level 2 is when you don' t just DO things for others, you actually try and protect them from FEELINGS as well. 

Despite the fact that this is a lot like trying to block a tsunami with an umbrella, many of us fall into this trap.  "Oh NO!  Someone I love is having a FEELING! I must protect!"  

OK, I get it.  I've done this before, and still do it at times.  It's only natural to want to stop the people we care about from being upset.    

Whether it's picking up something while grocery shopping that will make your spouse smile, letting someone know that you appreciate what they do, or reassuring someone and commiserating with them when they've had a tough day - that's just what we do and that's normal. 

It turns into Level 2 Swoop when you sort of try and turn your loved one(s) into the person in the plastic bubble.  You internalize everything they say, assume it's about you or at the very least YOU must fix it, and basically try and fly around like "the feelings fairy" trying to waive your sparkly wand and stop anything difficult from happening.

That sounds ridiculous, you say?  Yes, it does.  But many of us do this, and spend YEARS  in this pattern. 

The thing is, sometimes we can't really do anything constructive.  Sometimes, the other person needs to navigate this on their own, and you can't make it go away for them.  In fact, it's not always a good idea to put on your cape and fly in every time.  It sounds awful, but it's true.  Sometimes they need to feel shitty, decide what comes next and take action.  We can be supportive, but we aren't always helping if we do it for them.

And frankly, when we OVERDO this, and play fix it fairy too much, we find ourselves in burnout mode with no energy, no clarity and no passion to get anything moving.  We simply get too exhausted from the lack of balance in our day to day lives. 

Most of the time feeling awful is something we ARE going to get through.  There are times when we have to sit in, or slog through the steaming pile of poop, and it will just suck until it doesn't.  Sometimes, all we can do is  hand our loved ones a shovel and let them get on with it. 

The trick then, is in stopping to evaluate whether a situation you're observing is one that you should jump into and help, or one where you need to be hands off. It takes time and I'm still learning, too. Balance is like that, it's an ongoing process with adjustments all the time.

Grey Ghost

Don't want to be a grey ghost 

Only half of me

Don't want to fade away 

I've got no room to breathe

I can step aside and watch myself

I don't like what I see 

Best take some steps to lighten up 

It's time I let this soul be free 

I can look and find the blessings 

In what's draining me of life 

But I'm still pouring sparkles on a pile 

It's time to end the strife 

So from here on in, it's out of here 

If the committee votes it out

Body, mind and spirit 

In agreement they do shout 

Bring me joy and show me ease 

And the blessings of the flow 

There's no more need for all the crap 

On a new path I now go 

The Library

 

Recently, I've made a point of setting aside time to just read, for pleasure. Spending some time before work just enjoying relaxing with a great book is something I've missed.   

Right now, I'm reading "The Library Book" by Susan Orlean.  It's about the fire at the Los Angeles Central Library in 1986.  It's a great book, I'm really caught up in it. It has me reminiscing.  I spent so very much time at the library growing up! Our town library was within walking distance for me.  As a result, I made several trips each month.  Reading books is one of the things that was most formative for me growing up. 

The very first book I remember taking out was Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry. I subsequently read all of her books.  I had two horse pictures on my bedroom wall.  After that I remember going through what felt like most of the sections of the library. My appetite for books was insatiable.  I recall that at one point in Junior High I became very interested in books about ghosts and spirits, and read just about everything in that section. Hmmm.....a bit of foreshadowing there for certain! 

Like many avid readers, I've gotten quite caught up in the need to "own" a book if I enjoy it.  I must have it in physical paper form, and put it on my bookcase, so that I can....what?  All I can picture is Looney Tunes now, "I will hug it and pet it and call it George" or perhaps Golem with "the precious." 

I'm exaggerating a bit, but you get the idea. As the pandemic stretched out and I was home longer and longer, I've spent more time on my home office, which is also where about half of my books are kept.  Basically all of the witchcraft books are downstairs, and everything else is up here in my office. 

As I finessed the office over the last year or so, I came to realize something. It just isn't practical, for me, to "own" every book I read, based on sheer space to store them, and on basic smart budgeting.  In fact, it's ridiculous. 

Now, I know where you're going here. "Get a kindle" you say? I already have one.  This is a very good thing, because if we had a physical copy of every book I have read, this place would be inundated with books on every surface.  I do enjoy having the Kindle. Sometimes, it's the most practical format. 

But I'm a 70's kid, and so I do love the feeling of holding an actual book.  I think for me, moving forward I'm going to be really thinking about HOW I want to access a book: 

(1) Buy a physical copy and keep it 

(2) Buy on kindle 

(3) Listen as an audiobook - some narrations are a work of art aside from the story itself.

(4) Borrow it from the library 

When I think back on how much I loved going to the library,  one of the best things about it was that I didn't just have any book I wanted on hand every second. So part of the fun was the exploration of the library.  It was like a portal, a gateway to the entire world, and I never knew where I'd end up.  Then I'd take those 2 or 3 books, carry them carefully home, and then bliss out immersing myself in whatever world the books brought.  It was SPECIAL, not everyday, not finger-snap accessible. 

Now? Someone says, "Hey, XYZ is a good book. You should read it." So, I order it on Amazon, and it arrives the next day. Plop, on the pile it goes.  Does anyone else have a "TBR" pile that is beyond what you could read in a year?  Because I do. Or if I get it on my Kindle, zing, there it is, where I will promptly forget about it until next year when someone mentions it again. 

I wasn't doing this consciously, but that is exactly my point here. In my brain, "books are wondrous, fabulous things" is encoded in everything I am. So "get more books" is a good thing, right? 

Actually, for me, I think NO, it's not a good thing. This easy access at the snap of a finger has taken a bit of the shine off the process of reading for me. I enjoyed the trips to the library.  Getting dressed, knowing I was going to my favorite place.  Calling my best friend to see if she wanted to go. The walk to the library, enjoying the tree lined streets. The familiarity of that nearby library, the look of the building, that "library smell" inside, and the sheer joy of an hour or two of exploration, putting my hands on dozens of books before making my decision on what was coming home with me.

I loved using the card catalog.  I miss the card catalog. But, I digress. 

Moving forward, I'm going to focus more on my "recommended book list" and see how many of these I can borrow from the Library, and return.  If something is going to make it to Kindle, or to my physical book collection, it's going to be because it is so well loved that it's like a part of me, something I want to re-read, or that the sheer sight of it on the shelf brings joy. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett is one of those for me.  I have an older hardcover copy and I DO want to see it and touch it often.  I think from now on, I'm going to be far more choosy about which books end up getting promoted to the "permanent collection."  

While the mission and role of the public library has changed, they are still a vital and important part of our community, and I support them wholeheartedly. I am looking forward to spending much more time at our town library and finding ways to support that mission and make sure others understand it's importance. 

Out The Window

Out my office window

In the room upstairs 

The sun shines  

I can hear the birds singing

And the trees wave hello  in the gentle breeze 

I am so glad 

Please continue your beautiful song, my friends

My heart is happy because you are there 

While I work 

 

Blooming

I recently found this in an old notebook of mine. I can tell I wrote it in the early spring, but I have no idea of what year. 

_________________________________________________________

 I've never had much to give by way of sweat equity.  I haven't really ever been a "healthy adult."  So, I sit in little boxes, with screens and phones. I move numbers and words around. 

Sometimes, this makes people happy.  Other times, not so much.  Am I good at it?  Really, I've never been sure. 

All the while, I am thinking of being outside.  I imagine running, playing, digging and helping things grow. I watch the people I know who do grow things and I just think they're - Oh!  I don't even have the  words.  I'm in awe, their lives are close to the land. 

Mine would be too, if I were strong.

Today I started some plants in pots that I  hope will grow strong and be planted in the yard.  Deep dark soil. Seeds. Sun and rain.  

And hope.

I found some little seedlings trying to peek above the leaf litter and odd bits of grass.  I put a bunch of stuff over there last year, but nothing grew.  Maybe these little guys are a year late?  So I made space for them, the way Mary Lennox does in The Secret Garden when she first sees the flowers coming up.  Whatever they are, they can breathe now, I'll be watching them. 

Can you get things done with your determination only, but not physical strength?  Sometimes.  People are helpful, but sometimes it just gets strange when no one shares your passion or your vision.  There's love and there's willingness, but they still have no idea what you're talking about, you know? 

Every spring, I try and bloom, too. My result and my vision are so far apart. But like the little green things I found poking out of the soil, I AM something, after all.  

And, so are you. 

Maybe we aren't Tower Hill Botanical Garden type of blooms.  

But we ARE beautiful, nonetheless. Like these little guys in the picture. 

Remember that. 

The Space Between

(Originally written April 5, 2019) 
 
The night of the New Moon
Her daughter, in the void
Neither dreaming nor releasing
Not planning, nor leaning back
No drive or direction
No turning toward or away from
The dark, empty space
Where she was born
All things exist here
And yet
There is nothing
Absolutely nothing
Sentient Void
Vaguely amniotic
She is
And nothing else
Understanding all things
Knowing nothing
Existence
Devoid of form, time or concept
Returning to the body
Heart keeping the secrets
Reality twists
Galaxies move
Wordless, lying in the dark
As she has ever done
Familiar dark mystery
You consume me

Stained Glass

(Originally published 3/24/12 on an old blog)

Unsettled again
Must uncover what
Is eating my insides
This time.....
I am not one sided
There is darkness
And yes, there is pain
But there is also joy
And laughter
For life is amazing!
And is meant to be LIVED
There is music
Dancing, sweet and sweaty
Under summer's full moon
That knowledge when eyes meet
Or souls embrace, despite all odds
This poet's heart
Sees everything, and feels it, keenly
And so this is what I express
I am truly sorry
If that overwhelms you
Causes you pain
And yes
Each expression
Holds the tiniest piece of my soul
But unless you hold them all
You do not know me completely
Though you may think you do
Some have called me broken
And we are all so, in some ways
And I am no different
But it is in the working of those pieces
Like the fragments of a stained-glass window
Held up to the sunlight
That we see our colors come through
And our beauty
In this life
We will all be broken sometimes
Other times, we will feel smooth
Like the finest silk
I am not afraid
To look upon
The beautiful
And the ugly
Within myself
Or in this World
Directly in the face
I am strong
Stronger than you know
Perhaps stronger even than you
For I know who I am
And I will not cease

A Woman's Choices

 

 (Originally published January 15, 2013 on an old blog)

Her name was Ellen Hughes. She was born in Wales, and lived there through the age of 24. By 1894, somehow she was in the United States. She married my great grandfather, Lemuel Bartholomew, in New Hampshire that year. My grandmother, Margaret Ellen and her 4 brothers were born over the next several years. By 1903, at the age of 36, Ellen Hughes Bartholomew was dead.

My grandmother was born in 1902, and she had no memory of her real mother. She always kept this picture in her closet, but never on display. Not long after Ellen's death, Lemuel married Jenny Dwyer, a very Catholic woman who had been turned away from the convent because she did not have the physical ability to deal with the hardships of convent life. She became the only woman my grandmother ever called "Mother". I believe Jenny Dwyer is the reason those children and many of their offspring are Catholic to this day, since to my knowledge no one was before that. 

Whenever my father took out Ellen Hughes Bartholomew's picture my grandmother would get irritated and insist that Jenny Dwyer was her mother. It always bothered me, as a little girl, to hear this. All I could think was that it wasn't her fault that she died, why can't you even acknowledge her? This was just intrinsically wrong to me somehow, even as a little girl. I recall being angry at my grandmother about this. I do understand it now of course, she had no memory of her real mother.

After my grandmother passed away, her few family photographs came to my father, including the one shown here. It's about a foot tall and perhaps 8 inches wide, still in it's original frame. On the back, in my father's handwriting, is written "Ellen Hughes Bartholomew, my mother's real mother."

I can't be sure if it's because of the way her memory seemed to me, as a child, to be ignored by her only daughter but when the picture came to me, it was displayed in my home immediately. I like to tell people her story, the parts I know and those that I do not.

Ellen lived for 24 years in Wales, based on the last census record I can locate there. In those days, 24 was not young for a woman. I have so many questions! What made her come to America? Did her parents come, or did they stay behind? What about her siblings? Ellen had 4 brothers and one sister. How did she come to be in New Hampshire? Was there ever anyone before my grandfather? I know that choices for women in those days were very limited, and I can't help but wonder how her life unfolded.

How did Ellen and Lemuel meet? Were they in love? Why was she so sick? Did he love Jenny Dwyer or was she simply a needed convenience for a man left to raise 5 small children alone? My grandmother had little to say other than that her mother (Jenny) was a saint. I do have to give her props for raising 5 children that she did not give birth to.

Perhaps there are other Hughes or Bartholomew family members who would be interested in Ellen's picture now, or the one I have of my grandmother with her 4 brothers. There's a very sweet picture of my grandmother with her daddy. My grandmother did not have an easy life, but in that picture there is just the sweetness of childhood and all the possibility in the world. I will write about what I know of Margaret's life another day.

Ellen Hughes Bartholomew's picture hangs in a prominent place in my home. She lived a quarter of a century, a life that is a mystery to me, before she came to the United States. During the time she was here in the United States, she married a man and gave life to 5 children before she died. She never got to see any of her children reach adulthood, never held a grandchild, and as wonderful as Jenny may have been - another woman got all the credit for those 5 lives and who they became.

I guess I'll always feel like Ellen got shorted somehow. And so her picture will always be displayed in my home. And when people ask, I proudly say "That's my great grandmother, Ellen Hughes Bartholomew."

Breathe

I love an open window at night 

You can slide into that sweet energy so easy 

Trees rustle, I exhale a reply 

I’m lying here, sure 

Safe in my room 

But I’m traveling 

My hand touches the bark of an ancient tree 

I smell the sweetness of the moss, and the soil 

I hear the stream

Energy pulses along the connections 

Between everything out here 

Including me 

I like it here 

Too much, truth be told 

The forest, the green places

Their energy signature is home to me

Rare, so rare to find that signature anywhere else 

But it happens

Oh, yes, I do like being out here 

Shape of truth 

Breathe 

Be 

Within

You go on long enough, and far enough

You learn things

Things about how Everything works

At times it's awe inspiring, heady and delicious 

Sometimes you wish you didn't know 

But there's no way you'd go back 

Not ever 

So, you embrace it 

Even when it puts space 

Between you and others 

And turns the acceptable and expected 

Into the laughable and mindless 

Chaos suddenly makes perfect sense 

And all at once

It's WONDERFUL

No more worry about approval 

And the difficult times are just that 

Times that come and go like waves on the shore 

Their only constancy in their ebb and flow

No more need to build stories to survive them 

You don't define yourself by them 

Any more than you'd do with the times 

That slide by like ice cream on your tongue 

It all comes and goes 

And the magick is in how you decide to walk it every day

Pain doesn't define you. Bliss doesn't define you. 

What's in that core within, the place where you KNOW

That's the place it all comes from.   

Not your brain, that's just a processing center. 

Send and receive from your core

In time, you'll get used to the feel of what makes sense for you 

And what doesn't  

Most of what's around us is just noise 

Tune it out, often, and go within 

A Shameful Patriotism

 The events of Wednesday, January 6, 2021 at the Capitol Building in Washington DC brought something to a head for me, something that had been brewing over a very long time. 

I always vote in every election.  I have for about 20 years.  

It's important. But I can remember a time, when my kids were toddlers, where I'd skip the midterms or town elections because I was busy, or tired. Over the years I came to realize this isn't ok.  Now? I vote in every Town, State and National election and if you are in my circle and you're NOT going to vote, you will hear about it. Voting is your sacred responsibility as an American Citizen, and is not to be taken lightly. 

I remember growing up, there was a picture of JFK in our home, his gaze seemed to follow you wherever you'd go in the room.  My mom and dad truly connected with JFK and his photo was there for that reason.  For them, he represented something good, someone you could look to and respect.  And, someone gone too soon. By giving him a place in our home, they were saying "What he believed will continue. You haven't won."  

I have an 8X10 of Barak Obama in my office at home. I admire him very much.  Did I agree with every decision he made while in office?  No.  But I trust him. Implicitly. If he decided something, I trust that he made the best decision possible based on the facts.  He is dignified, highly educated yet without a hint of separating himself from others. He is well read.  He is highly intelligent with an agile mind.  There is a sense of grace about the way he navigates life.  It is clear that he has an inner sense of who he is, where he comes from, what he can offer, where he is going, and above all a sense of integrity.  He has a sense of humor, and can laugh at himself.  There is a sense of being real.  Barak Obama represents everything I could hope for in a leader.

I added Ruth Bader Ginsburg to my office wall.  Notorious RBG, indeed.  I have come to look to her more and more over the past several years. As I looked up more and more information, I found more and more to admire and to be inspired by! The second woman to serve on the Court, Ginsburg was a champion of women's rights and gender equality.  I think the thing I admire most in reading about her life, is the way RBG JUST KEPT GOING, despite the inequalities built into education, law, and society.  As she made her way, she found she could make it easier for others to make their way as well.  Now she is on my wall, and I look at her when I think perhaps I will give up on something that's important to me.

Lastly, I have a picture of George H.W. Bush, Barak Obama, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton and Jimmy Carter, all together at the White House. They're all laughing and enjoying one another's company.  There isn't one fake smile in these shots, it's abundantly clear these guys are just happy as they talk and share together.  Barak Obama asked George W. Bush if he could help him make this moment happen, because it meant a great deal to him, and George was more than happy to do so.  Several pictures were taken that day, and they have become a treasured historical moment. 

Again, I didn't agree with everything each of them did.  But in each case I have come to understand that each  brought the best they could to the table.  Sometimes they were brilliant, and other times they missed the boat.  Sometimes they listened to the wrong people.  Some were suited to the job, others were not. But they loved our country and held her, our laws and our constitution in their hearts.  Sometimes we even saw them do an about face and own up to something by doing BETTER when the time came.  So, I can look at these 5 men with respect.   They represent something that I lost in the last few years, the innocence of believing that those who sit in the oval office are trying their best for us all,  even when I vehemently disagree on an issue.  That moment of them laughing together is beyond precious to me. 

I purchased these three photos months ago, but finally got frames and put them up today.  This week showed me that much of what we took for granted in the past is so much more fragile than I ever believed.  I made the connection between my hardworking parents and their picture of JFK, and my own relationship to our country and her leaders.

On Wednesday, our legislators were running for their lives, and hiding, because they were doing their jobs and some disagreed with that.  Our Capitol Building was desecrated. I found myself shaking with rage when I saw what had happened. On the deepest, most visceral level, came a NO. NO!  YOU DO NOT GET TO DO THIS.  Our country, our people, our sacred sites, our constitution, and the rule of law are NOT there for you to harm, abuse, desecrate or trample upon.  These are sacred and belong to us all.  ALL of us. 

I have absolutely never felt drawn to visit Washington DC. Now? Now I dream of a day when perhaps I could visit The White House, The Capitol Building and all of the sites in DC.   I want to stand in the Rotunda. I want to know that I was there, just once, for a few moments in these important and sacred sites. 

I have allowed my feelings about specific politicians in the past few years to affect how I feel about My Country. And this makes me feel ashamed, and that's where the title of this blog post comes from. Too many have worked, sacrificed and died so that we can be here. How many of my ancestors worked and worked so that my family and I can be Americans? 

Is America perfect? No. Were the founding fathers perfect?  Heavens no.  But they DID leave us a way forward, which, IF APPLIED EQUALLY TO ALL, DOES WORK PERFECTLY.  That is our job now. 

First, we work together and get past this plague. 

Then, we vote, we volunteer, we run for office, we donate time and money, we teach the little ones, we look for the good and the humanity in one another, we work for the common good, we ensure equality and opportunity for all, and we preserve our land and our sacred sites for future generations. ABOVE ALL WE HOLD OUR CONSTITUTION AND THE RULE OF LAW IN THE HIGHEST REGARD, DEFENDING AND UPHOLDING THEM ALWAYS. 

I know, all the capital letters, some of you are cringing.  We're having a plague, so I can't sit and talk with you guys over coffee, and show you with vocal tone and body language how passionately I feel about this.  So, instead you get these fabulously mature ALL CAPS. You're welcome.  

I’m Not Your Lightworker

Yesterday had a profound effect on me, as it did many people.  

Let me make something perfectly clear as we all process what happened yesterday. This statement from me has been coming for a long time and is overdue.

I am not a "Lightworker". I do not subscribe to the Wiccan Rede. I am not going to blow sunshine and daisies up your ass about what happened yesterday. I am under no obligation to accept that which harms people or our country just to avoid rocking the boat or to avoid upsetting people.

If you have mistakenly thought that I had that belief system let this be your notification that I do not. 

While I certainly have an open mind, there are limits. I have made plenty of mistakes in my time, and I seek to learn from them and to be better every day. I believe in the greater good. I ask questions. I examine motives and delusions including my own. I look under the surface. I also believe in firm boundaries and stopping at a personal and systemic level all that harms our country, our communities, our planet, and our people.

Those firm boundaries mean that some beliefs and practices that others hold dear do not work for me. 

Please seek your sunshine elsewhere. I didn’t come here to provide it. 

This has come up more than once recently and it was time that this witch put it out there.

HINDSIGHT IS 2020, AN ODE TO OUR ELECTED PUBLIC SERVANTS IN CONGRESS

History will remember you
But not the way you'd hoped
Constitution and Law you pushed aside
Integrity? What a joke


Money, power and supremacy
Have had their day in the sun
But now those days are over
Your allies are on the run


Have you thought about your legacy?
It's a horror show for sure
Best cut your losses and make for home
Far better you speak no more


You've shown the country and the world
The truth of what you are
You've deceived so many with your lies
The disease has spread so far


History and Karma are never kind
To those who choose this way
I shudder just to imagine
The trials of all your days


You tried to hide yourself behind
The One they call The Christ
But you went against all he taught and said
You knew that wasn't right


And now, you're in the bed you've made
I don't envy you at all
The people aren't your playthings
And now you take the fall