The Ramblings and Wanderings

Archive for the ‘About Juniper’ Category

This last Friday myself and Lady N were in charge of leading the Lughnasadh ritual for our Hedge Group. Lady N is newer to the Path (and thus doesn’t have mountains of ritual tools) and I am a terrible pack rat, who also just happened to be in possession of the Hedge’s Ritual Toolbox (or box o’ ritual tools and candles and stuff). Therefore, I found myself spending much of the afternoon beforehand going through the Ritual Toolbox, my own collections of items, making a list and checking it twice.

One item was nearly forgotten. This is the red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth I’ve had in storage for ages. Having been going through a phase these last couple of years I like to call my “The dirt is a great place for setting up my altar and to practice my rituals on because I am a hardcore Hedgewitch phase” my red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth has been sitting forlornly in storage for some time. I did remember it right before I left on Friday; as I figured this would be a good contribution to the groups’ Ritual Toolbox. I also felt kind of bad for neglecting the poor thing. So on my way out the door I pulled it, still folded, out of its place of storage and stuck it in the Ritual Toolbox.

After promising Brendan various sexual favours if he helped me get everything to the park without breaking, we arrived well before everyone else at the appointed place. I had planned to be there a good hour before the other members so that I could have everything set up and be all grounded and ready for their arrival. I talked Bren into hauling a large stone into the South to act as a hearthstone for my thurnble (thingy you burn stuff in) and then I decided the best thing to do was pull out the altar cloth and lay everything out on it so I could decide what will go where. This was also necessary as the Ritual Toolbox doubles as a Portable Altar, so you have to have everything carefully removed from the Ritual Toolbox and the lid closed before you can set up the Portable Altar.

So, I gently pried open the wicker top of the Ritual Toolbox that doubles as a Portable Altar and unfurled the red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth. Which was to my horror, covered in DOG HAIR and LINT!!! Oh, the humanity! This is no doubt due to having spent the last couple of years in storage at my mother’s house where she fosters rescue dogs. I can only blame ADD for the reason why it did not occur to me that a red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth that had been stored in such a way might be covered in lint and dog hair.

All the contents of my purse and bag were then unceremoniously dumped on to the grass as I flailed about hoping beyond hope that I might just maybe have a lint brush or even some duct tape amongst my belongings. But alas, I did not. I tried rubbing the cloth vigorously to remove the offending grey lint and dog hair but to no avail. I shook it out repeatedly as Bren watched on unsympathetic to my plight.

Alas, nothing was going to remove the copious amounts of lint and dog fur covering the red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth. Especially the lint, which mocked me most cruelly, it said “Ha ha! Fancy yourself capable of handling a Priestess’s duties do you? You fool! Everyone will see how incompetent you really are now!”

I could have simply not used the altar cloth at this point; I could have given it to Brendan to take home with him. But I refused to be defeated by lint and certainly not to sarcastic, mocking lint! “There’s no use for it” I said to Brendan, “I will have to arrange the tools in such a way as to cover the worst of the lint.”

Brendan is a wise man and kept his mouth shut, though he did raise an eyebrow.

So I cleverly placed the lint covered red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth upon the Ritual Toolbox that doubles as a Portable Altar in such a way that the least-linty area was positioned on the very top. Then I curled the ends under and tucked them against the Portable Altar to hide them.

After strategically arranging the ritual tools upon the lint covered red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth I then sprinkled dried herbs and flowers all over the damned thing to fill in the space and hide the offending lint. Luckily, the ritual called for large quantities of dried herbs, leaves and flowers and had I brought extra. Taller ritual tools were placed on the ground around the Portable Altar and leaning against it, which also helped to hide the evil lint of death.

With an amused Bren looking on I waved my fist at the Sun, demanding that it sink quickly so as to help hide the evil lint of death from sight.

Just then, I heard voices! The other members of the Hedge were arriving. Would they notice? Would they laugh at me? Mock my ability as a Priestess? Would they ban me forever from the group for daring to bring a lint covered red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth to ritual?

No!

My cunning ass-covering worked like a charm. Instead the ladies gathered around and actually admired the beauteous creation that was my altar set up. They said things like “You have raised the bar for all of us with this” and they weren’t making snide, sarcastic fun of me either. They meant it!

One of them was so impressed with how lovely and elegant my altar was she took pictures. If you would like to see these pictures you will have to go to the As Within Blog, make nice comments on said blog, and ask Lis politely to make a blog post with the pictures. If you do just enough ass-kissing maybe she might be swayed to do so.

Of course, the lint covered red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth wound up back in the Ritual Toolbox that doubles as a Portable Altar, which was then handed over to the next person to Priestess a ritual. I really should have snagged the lint covered red (probably real, but may not be) velvet altar cloth and took it home so no one would be the wiser. I can just see her getting home, planning the ritual, opening up the Ritual Toolbox that doubles as a Portable Altar and saying to herself “Why the fuck is this thing covered in lint and dog hair?!”

Forever hiding the flop sweat,

Juniper

Well we are back from Fest and somewhat recovered. I will get my workshop on Building Your Own Personal Divination System up in the next day or so, as well as the additional info I promised.

We recorded about 3 hours worth of stuff for the podcast so we hope to start editing that soon.

I will also start catching up on blog posting and the Wild geek Hang (the forum) and get the calendar creation into action as well.

Cheers!

(Breaking the rules of wordless Wednesday … Sorry I haven’t been around much! I have lots going on right now. I’m writing like crazy, reading like crazy, working and job hunting, Bren’s birthday is coming up, helping with the starting of a ritual group, planning and performing all night rituals and Hedge crossings, doing some wood burning, there’s the podcast … the list goes on.

Two things I owe you guys: an article on Hedge Crossing for here and an article on building a relationship with a landscape for New World Witchery, I hope to have these finished up asap.

Also check out the upcoming book from Pendraig Publishing called “To Fly by Night” recognize any names? Only my first name is listed right now hehehehe)

30 trips around the Sun!

1) I often have to drag my large, heavy and awkward work gear onto the bus. Whenever the bus is being driven by a man, he “kneels” or lowers the bus to make it easier for me to board and disembark.

Female bus drivers never do this, not ever. Even if I ask them too the response is something along the lines of “Oh you’re fine” or “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” in a rather annoyed or even disgusted tone of voice.

2) Sometimes I drop my large, heavy and awkward work gear. Sometimes I wipe out on my bike. Sometimes I struggle to drag something like my work gear or my bike up steep staircases.

I never ask for help, but if another person is around they will usually respond to my “distress”.

Almost always a man or boy will stop to help me. Women however never help me and will tell me “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” if they acknowledge my presence at all. Actually often they are annoyed that I am taking up space on the sidewalk or taking too long to get up the stairs, I guess they are in a hurry eh?

And they say chivalry is dead.

Stuff like this makes me wonder if I am a bad feminist for wanting or accepting, assistance.

It also makes me wonder why women do not help each other more. Do we feel we have to prove that we are strong girls and can do it? Do we feel the need to force other women to prove they are strong girls too?

3) A fellow whose blog I read related a story of how a few days ago he was walking home from the store. Feeling quite happy and somewhat childlike that day, he hopped, skipped and danced most of his way home. He jumped over a planter or two, and even did a cartwheel.

This fellow is a large and muscular young man, who was wearing shorts and had taken his shirt off as the weather was warm.

After accidentally knocking over a planter that he had jumped over, he was stopped by the police who demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing? His attempts at explaining that he was just having some fun were not enough for the police. He was handcuffed and driven home by the police who told him he needed to cool off, as his behaviour (skipping and jumping) was erratic and potentially dangerous.

I like to hop, skip and jump. I often hop onto park benches, jump over planters on the sidewalk and balance along the edge of retaining walls. I like to do cartwheels. I have accidentally knocked over planters. However, I would never be handcuffed and brought home by the police for such behaviour, for I am a small and cute young woman.

4) The other day I dragged my work gear onto the bus. I had a large and awkward slab of plastic (that unfolds into a table) and my wheel-about full of heavy objects. Along one side of the front of the bus were Moms and their children’s strollers.

Sitting in the courtesy or compassion seats on the other side of the front of the bus were two men. A young man and middle aged man. The courtesy seats are for disabled people, people with strollers and people with large and awkward objects. There are signs all over the place stating as such and telling more able bodied riders to give up these seats if need be. The rest of the bus was about half full.

It was obvious that getting past the strollers with my work gear was going to be very difficult. It was also obvious that I counted as someone who needed the courtesy seating.

I caught the eye of the young man, who was closest to me and asked him if I could please steal his seat? He looked away and pretended he could not hear me.

The middle aged man was looking right at me, so I asked him if I could please have his seat, as I am burdened with heavy objects and don’t want to bash the strollers by accident. He unfocused his eyes and looked right through me, saying nothing.

“Alright then” I said, “If you are going to pretend I don’t exist, I will just have to run over your feet!”

So I did, making sure to press down on their toes with my wheel-about and bashing their shins with it was well as I went past. The young man tried to pretend nothing was happening, perhaps concerned about being “cool”. The middle aged man looked quite shocked and tried to get his sandalled feet out the way … but failed. Neither said anything as I did my best to leave them with some nice bruises for the rest of the day.

Once past them I looked up and glared menacingly at the other passengers on the bus. One man quickly gave up his window seat to me and sat beside someone else. I thanked him kindly.

The men on the bus looked shocked and surprised and a little bit scared of me. I guess being a strong girl is a little bit frightening to some men still.

The women on the bus were all hiding smiles, a few even made eye contact and openly grinned at me. “You go girl!” their smiles said. I guess so long as I prove I’m a strong girl who can do it, I’ll be getting those smiles.