Yes! Home School Kidz Do Stuff

The Henry Doorly Zoo, Omaha NE

I've been a stay-at-home home-schooling mother for over 20 years.  I started out all super serious and scared to death that I wouldn't teach my kids everything they need to know, or teach them the "right" way-- whatever I thought "right" meant.  I have to say that I was a hard taskmaster with my first three kids and have been much more laid back and easy on the youngest three, which I'm reminded of periodically by the Older Ones.

I have realized over the years that everyone learns differently, not everyone is going to be A+ material in every subject. I've learned that everyone finds their niche, what they're good at.  I've learned that if you turn a kid loose with a question or an obsession, they will read and learn and absorb almost everything there is to read and learn and absorb about a topic. 

The most important thing I've learned is that "Learning is Natural", so stand back, give the kid some space, and let them do what comes naturally.  (Wow, I'm rather proud of this paragraph-- I didn't realize, till I read it, how progressive I've become over the years.)

Anyway, in answer to all those people who ask, Yes! Home School Kids Do Stuff.

This is our September Field Trip to Henry Doorly Zoo...

Home School Kidz, Part 1
The Butterfly Exhibit

The first snap of the shutter-- the wings were closed.

Second snap of the shutter-- the wings were open.

Third snap of the shutter-- the wings were closed.

We heard this bird long before we saw her.

 

 

Going through the exhibit is like entering another world-- it's a beautiful green lush jungle filled with butterflies.  You have to be careful where you step; you have to allow them to land where they will; you have to give them the right of way.  When you leave, you also have to check for hitchhikers!

 

There were other exhibits to go along with it, including an insect area, as well as mounted butterflies, and a view into the Lab.  It's way cool-- though the insect side might be a little intense if you don't like Creepy Crawlies (including spiders).

Mama and Emma

Papa and Sara

 

Upcoming Post:  Home School Kidz, Part 2

The Scott Aquarium

 

And Then Again...Strike 3

I've been calling Premier Staffing once a week religiously since I put in the application for the position-- the one where I'd get to write brochures and pamphlets for a company here in Fremont and take care of their internet social sites-- I even stopped there in person one week.  I learned yesterday that this position was filled. 

Boo!...sez I.

I told the lady, quietly and rather anti-climactically, "I can promise you that I'm better qualified for this position than whomever the individual was who got the job."  -- and I am, you know.  I write and I do internet social sites, both on a personal level, as well as professionally for promotion. 

I think this sucks.

Was it...

1) My age (56, going to be 57 the 24th of this month)?

2) No job history except for self-employment and publishing companies?

3) The pagan content on my own internet sites I gave them as an example of my work?

My rebuttal

1) I know that 56 going-on 57 might sound old, especially if you're really, really young.  But it's not.  When you turn 50 you will be surprised that you will still hike, bike, run, have sex, ride horses, play sports, fish n' hunt, and generally participate in life same as you did when you were 30-- really.  Yes, really, I mean it.  The only difference is, you will be a lot smarter.

2) No job history except self-employment & my publishers...If I were not a good employee, I would have fired myself.  Really.  I would have been ruthless.  I'd have come to my desk for work one morning, cup of coffee in hand, and I would've called myself right into the main office, sat myself down, and said, "I'm sorry Amythyst, this just isn't working out-- you suck.  You're Fired."

3) Pagan website content (meaning Witchcraft and all that occult forbidden-- but intriguing-- type stuff).  Hey, this is Fremont.  If you don't like football (and especially Nebraska Husker football) you are already considered odd.  I hate football.  My Freak Flag is waving bravely in the wind-- in big slow-motion ripples, with really cool special effects lighting and everything.

A Favorite Haunt

Calm days, clear water, gray skies, wild flowers, river banks, fallen logs, the quiet murmur of voices on gravel trails...this is one of our favorite pass times, one of our Favorite Haunts:

Create your own free picture slideshow Yes, I'm playing with Smilebox again :)

A Hell-Of-A-Week...or...There Are Fish in Our Ditch

It's been a Hell-Of-A-Week...

Joe just got his stitches removed yesterday, and was given a little rubber ball and a wad of silly putty to be used for 'therapy', to get his gripping strength back in shape before he goes back to work and hits 10 hour days with a  welding gun in his hand (ow).  The purple writing is all courtesy of the Doctor, who very carefully marked all three fingers to be done, then drew arrows on the palm at what appears to be the area for incision, and then adds-- with a flair-- his initials at the bottom of it all.  Ta-da!!!




This is Joe's-Hand, the day of the surgery, stitches & all. 

Night before last I was hit, unexpectedly and very rudely I might add, with a terrific bout of "Internal Issues".  Suffice it to say that I was rolling on the floor at one point, while Joe-- my loving and ever thoughtful and caring husband-- kept asking me, "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital, honey?"  At that point, honestly, I could not have gotten up to get to a hospital on my own steam-- I actually needed help just getting to the bathroom and back.

It progressed through the night to a point that was actually alarming, so much so, that I wound up making an impromptu ER visit the next morning.

"What do you think could've brought this on?", I was asked by the Medical People. (Actually, for the several hundred to a thousand dollars that this ER visit will probably cost, I was sort of hoping that they could tell me.)

Let's see...the possibilities could be:

1)  that narley ice-cream cone that I ate at McDonald's the day before-- it Didn't-Look-Right; I almost handed it back.  I even mentioned this fact to my daughter, who was with me.  I jokingly said, "I might regret eating this." (I'm psychic, remember, she says with a wink-- so why don't I listen to myself?)

2)  St. John's Wort-- which I just started re-taking 2 days before the onslaught of "Internal Issues".  We actually googled this and there is a syndrome, called Serotonin Syndrome, which is linked to taking this herb in combination with other medications, or taking too much at one time (she says guiltily, the extra 3 pills glaring at her from the dark recesses of her memory).  And I have to say, though I'm not a Doctor, that my symptoms and this syndrome were right on cue.  I have thrown the bottle away, and from now on, I will now be an advocate for tightening up access to "Herbal Remedies"-- Hey, peoples, these 'herbs' are drugs, they may be 'natural', but they're still chemicals that need to be handled with caution!!

3)  For months I've been bothered with severe pain in my lower left abdomen, even had a Cat Scan done, which revealed "nothing".  My body, and the sharp shooting pain, has kept telling me There's-Something-Wrong-Here, but the highly modern and technological cat scan says that everything is "OK".  Everything is not okay, believe me, technology or not, you know when something is wrong with your body.  This is where the severe pain stemmed from, and it shot straight across my lower tummy, laughing at me all the way.

Okay, so the Medical People get this all down.  Doctor comes back in and wants to do another Cat Scan, at $4000.00 a pop, no less.  I had already explained that this was recently done, and I had my own copy, and he could look it up and view it since it was done at this facility.  (Yes, I declined.)

Then I said, "This hospital is already suing us for a back bill."

Holy crap.  They had me up and out of there faster than you can say "witch-on-a-broom".

"Okay, we'll just treat the symptoms." Doctor says, slightly red-faced and rushed.

Yes, I felt better when I left-- they had rehydrated me, given me a pain killer, and some anti-inflammatory medication.  But remember, oh--I didn't tell you, colon cancer runs in my family, but, oh well.  What the hell-- get her outa' here. (This is the energy I felt.)

I won't name this facility, but you know where we live, so you can google it.  And from now on, I think we'll listen to the advice we've been given by oodles & oodles of people-- Bypass this facility and go into Omaha for medical treatment.

There is a humorous turn about this story-- You know the little paper armbands with your name & DOB on it, the one they use to identify you, and the one they use to scan every single item they use or bring you in order to charge you for it?  Mine didn't work.

Nurse Gena, who was a sweetheart by the way, tries to scan the meds she's giving me.  "Hmmm, this is odd.", she says. She calls over the phone, "Bring me another scanner, this one isn't working." 

In minutes, a new scanner is delivered to the room.  It doesn't work.  "Hmmm, this is really odd.", Nurse Gena says again.  Over the phone once more, "Can you print me off another wrist band, this one isn't working."

Within minutes, I have another wrist band on my other arm.

The scanners don't work on this one either.  "Now this is really, really *Weird*!", Nurse Gena says with emphasis.  She laughs, and looking down at me she says, "You must be a ghost!"

I look up at her, laughing, and say, "It must be Witchcraft!"

She hasn't got a clue.

My Witchy Room

Spells & Stuff...I love receiving emails and messages from people who are interested in Witchcraft and the whole Pagan scene.  But I have to tell you, I cringe when I start an email that says, "I need your help..."  And it goes on for several paragraphs, in-depth, about their personal issues.  They want me to come up with some sort of magickal spell, on the spur of the moment, and apparently with no compensation for time spent working on the project. 

I tell you peoples, if money were no issue, and I had all the time in the world to sit around and write up spells for people, I would be in seventh heaven.  But that is not the case.  Money is tight here, just as it is for many families, and if I'm going to spend time researching your particular situation, hovering over spell books, typing out all the info, and keeping in touch if you have Any-Other-Questions, I'm going to have to be paid for my effort.

Please note-- there are oodles of Free-Spells at my blog, just follow the links; and also, you can search my blog, Magickal Connections, for blog posts on a variety of magickal subjects.  You could also buy my books-- Ahem!

If  none of the above suit you, and you still want me to help you put together a spell tailored just for you and your specific issues, I offer Spell Consultations at my website.  (No, they're not free.)

I know this is my Personal-Blog-Spot-For-Personal-Stuff, but I've just been inundated with requests; and I may wind up posting this section of this blog at my Other Blog and elsewhere.  (In the couple days I've been sick, my email has been deluged with 600 pieces of correspondence coming through for all kinds of things, including requests like this-- this is why I usually manage my email Every Day to keep up with it.)





Our Backyard Garden
 

I'm going to wind up this blog post with a weather report, because we can all relate to the weather.

It's rainy here, we've gotten so much rain that I looked out the bedroom window this morning to see that the ditch was flooded to the point it was ready to run over into the road.  I love rain.  Love it, love it, love it.  But once in a while, it's true, you can have too much of a good thing.  It can stop now, preferably before we get water in the basement.

The photo above is Our Backyard Garden, as the caption says, complete with a cool spider web and sun rays-- you can almost hear the Angel's Choir.  You'll find fairies in this garden, though, and maybe a gnome or two.  :)

Pass Me a Jack Daniels

My week, this week, is starting out on a string of notes, most of them off key:

1.  Monday: a visit to Premier Staffing, looking at a position-- writing promotional materials for a company and overseeing their social sites (Facebook, Twitter, Website, Blog, etc.)...Me to Joe: "They *Pay* people to do this???"  Joe:  "Yeees!".  Geesh.

I leave them my card and make a fast trip home to switch out vehicles-- when I go back, I'm thinking that they will have time to have brought up my website, blog, twitter, etc.  I'm thinking that the best thing I have to show them that this position is right down my alley (I do this All-The-Time for myself) is to allow them to view my own work.  But there's a catch.  After viewing all this They-Will-Know-I'm....Different. 

When I return, I'm asked in almost immediately for an interview and a few clerical-type Can-You-Do-This-and-This-And-This type questions.  Follows a lively 20 minute chat with the lady.  I can tell she likes me, and I believe I've answered the verbal questions to her satisfaction ("Do you look at The Big Picture, or do you concentrate on The Details?)...Ummm, you have to give The Big Picture a passing glance so you know how to whip the details into shape-- you have to know where you're going to figure out How You're Going To Get There.

Her parting words: A cheery, "If you don't hear from me by Friday, Call Me!"

2.  Tuesday:  blah.  Preparing for Wednesday.

3.  Wednesday:  Joe's surgery at OrthoWest in Omaha for Trigger Finger (This means that Joe will be off work for the next 2-3 weeks, on temporary disability, which hasn't even been approved yet, and is a fraction of Normal Pay-- *gulp*-- Who needs electricity anyway, it's probably highly over-rated)...yet to do.

4.  Thursday:  Pyewacket into Dr. Kent's for an allergy shot. (If it isn't The Dog, it's one of The Cat's)...yet to do.

5.  Friday:  Call the lady back at Premier Staffing...yet to do.

So there's our week...in a nutshell.
Pass me a Jack Daniels.

Summer Daze

The blackbirds are flocking.  I noticed it last week, on my walk through the yard, under the trees, to hang a bird-feeder up at the feeding station.  It startled me, even though I love this time of year, and the huge flocks of birds that will come with it.  It startled me because my grandma told me what her dad (my great-grandpa Smith) told her-- the earlier the birds start flocking, the earlier winter will arrive.

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

Emma & Pyewacket

 

The youngest, Emma, turned 14 this July.  She has shot up almost taller than me, she no longer smells like a kitten (she did for the longest time), she is growing breasts and transforming into a beautiful young woman.

 

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

 

 

The large backyard flower garden is the only one I didn't re-mulch this year; I just salted down the pebble path that runs through it and sort of let nature take it's course.  As much as I loved how it looked, all sharp and dramatic with black mulch, the reality of keeping it this way struck home with the dozens of 40lb bags of mulch we hauled in to do the other garden spots.  My back and various other muscles complained loudly.  The garden has been over-joyed with its new-found freedom.  Purple cone flowers have sprouted in amongst everything, being all friendly and amiable; the black eye-susans have spread to twice their area, and I have found (to my delight) that strawberry plants are happily mingling with everything, throughout the entire garden.  It's working.  Everyone is getting along.  That's how it's suppose to be.

 

 

I added inspiration to our covered back porch this week-- a space that is a family favorite hot-spot.  We eat here, cats gather here, we hang out, we play, we talk, we rest.  We have gathered on this porch with friends, alone with a cup of coffee in the wee hours of the morning, and in the dusk of many summer evenings in a chattering huddle with each other:.

 

 

 

Enjoy the last dog days of summer...Embrace them and sear the memories into your mind.  It's coming to a close faster than we realize.

 

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

 

Breakfast Time: Baby, Fox, Pyewacket, Basil, & Bast

 

 

 

"Oh, Be Gone, Woman!"

Just when you don't think there's anything else that 'takes-the-cake', something comes along that actually does.

This afternoon:  chocolate ice-cream cones at Runza

Going through the drive-in line:  we notice a white pickup parked in the parking lot with two dog kennels strapped in the pickup bed; it was parked in the sun, and there were dogs in the kennels.  The temperature on this day was 93 degrees; the vehicle was parked so the back-end was directly hit with the sun.

We picked up our order and drove up alongside the pickup.  The dogs in the kennels were panting hard, long pink tongues extended.  I take my camera out of my purse, step outside the car, and snap a photo of the dog.

Along comes the owner-- a big broad red-headed man & his wife.

"Why are you taking a picture of my truck?"...and so ensues a lively 2-3 minute conversation:

Us: "It's too hot for the dog."

Dog Owner:  "The kennel has holes, the dog has water." (Here he points to a closed container of water sitting in the rear corner of the pickup bed-- It didn't look like it was doing the dog much good there.)

He follows with a defensive explanation about being in a dog show, about how the dog is "just fine", and he's getting angrier as he talks (he's turning red).  His wife and I briefly touch on how it's a good thing that someone is concerned about animals, etc., and if it were just his wife and I together, I think we would have come out all right on this thing.

Once more he emphasizes that 'the dog is okay, it's not too hot'-- this is where I say, "You climb in that box for an hour and see how it feels."

He lost it-- he turns his back to me and says, "Oh, just BE GONE, Woman!"

(Ummm, what century are we living in???)

Suddenly, Joe's voice comes booming out of the car, "You don't talk to my wife that way, you D***!!!...and Joe continued to come up with about three more sentences emaphsizing his point, very clearly, very precisely.

The guys wife, quietly:  "Just get in the car, Honey."

And he did.

And we all drove away, eating our chocolate ice creams cones and ruminating on human intelligence, or the lack there-of.

 

 

I'm Not So Bad

I'm not so bad...really.

I'm the ultimate Libra, which means that I am (was) a terrific People Pleaser-- in my younger days anyway.  Most post-menopausal women don't give a rats ass what anyone thinks, which is wonderful.  Aging is very liberating.  But that doesn't mean that there isn't a crumb or a shadow of that People Pleaser hiding somewhere in the dark corners of me.  It raises its ugly cloying little head once in a while, but I try to beat it back into submission.

For instance, I love this, people who are new to witchcraft and the whole thing, will write me and say, "I'd love to know where to start, can you help me-- can you teach me-- can you give me some pointers-- can you mentor me--"  Ummm-- no.  I don't have time to mentor anyone.  But the weird thing was that I would give them a list of books they could start with but-- AND HERE IS THAT LIBRA THING-- I thought it would be very egotistical and conceited to tell them to start with My Books. 

This happened several times, until I stopped, and said, "Wait a minute!! What's not right with this picture?"

"Start with my books!"...that felt good.

Of course, this isn't the information they wanted anyway, a few of these people were actually looking for someone to learn for them, or for someone to spend a great deal of time writing things out, explaining things, cataloguing things, feeding the information to them in a way they could digest it-- and hey, I already did this-- it's called My Books.  (I love this.)

I use to think that when I was out and about in public, if I were standing in line or something with someone who obviously disapproved of me, or was just being uppity and stereotypically mid-western'ish, it was my duty-- MY LIBRA DUTY-- to change their minds, to make them like me.  How crazy!  How much time and energy did I waste in 56 years making an effort to get some asshole to smile. 

My husband is so opposite (Scorpio-- holy crap).  Scorpio will not mess with people who give weird pucker-mouthed I-don't-like-you-I-am-superior-to-you looks.  A Scorpio will look them right in the eye and say, "What the fuck's your problem?"  I love this too-- they are always jolted into reality, caught off guard, shocked.  It rattles their little pristine world and reminds them that the universe is full of diversity, and some of this diversity may wind up in their face if they don't cut out the holier-than-thou act.

I'm kind of lazy (LIBRA), but I can work my ass off when it counts. So this kind of all gets balanced out in the end. I'm doing pretty good here (she sez as she eyes the counter full of dirty dishes).

I'm spacey.
I'm forgetful.
I'm a hoarder of cats.
I talk to plants.
I hate to cook.

I've never understood why, once you've thoroughly dusted and cleaned a room, it wouldn't stay that way forever.  It's suppose to.  This should be a universal unwritten rule.

I don't do laundry-- grudgingly my own, when necessity stands up on its hind legs and howls.  And surprisingly, I do Joe's laundry-- I generally don't do any man's laundry, they're on their own.  Doing a man's laundry for 30 years would be like having a child who never learned to do their own laundry. Blech, who would want that? (It tickles Joe that I do his, which I find funny.)

If I'm lonely in the middle of the night, I will wake my husband up to talk to me (never mind that he works 10 hour days welding).  I've also been known to do this if he's trying to catch a nap during the day.  Maybe this is a sub-conscious retaliation for getting up at 2am to fix him something to eat when he gets home from work, I'm not sure, I'm still working on the logic of this.

I eat chocolate candy bars for breakfast.

Once in a while, I will drink out of the orange juice jug, or those large liters of pop and sit it back in the fridge, guiltily wiping my mouth with the back of my hand-- I know, this is rather disgusting, isn't it.

Many moons ago, I got caught standing in the kitchen eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream at 7 o'clock in the morning.  I looked down, and there was the little bugger, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, all pink in Dr. Denton's.  I hushed the little intruder back to bed, swearing her to secrecy for life.

But I'm not so bad...really.

Memoir: We Interrupt Tonight's Programming

Memoir: January 13, 14, 15, 16, 1991
(unedited)

*Note:   I was watching TV during the evening of January 16th, 1991, when the networks were suddenly interrupted, and I literally got to watch the beginning of a war.  It was amazing and chilling at the same time.  I kept my wits enough to jot down some details, so I could record it in my diary later.  It's one of those moments that you never forget.

Sunday, January 13, 1991

Watch the news religiously.  A feeling of great apprehension, as though something disastrous is about to happen.  As though we were standing on the edge of an abyss.  Yesterday Congress voted to back the President.  It was "the most historic day in Congress since war on Germany was declared".

5pm-- kids both asleep.  Waiting for news.

Lovely day today-- D. made breakfast, lunch at McDonalds (to Anne's delight), and then shopping (at Wal-Mart)-- shirts and pants for the children.

Nice, but still not "spring-like" out.

Chilly.

Monday, January 14, 1991

The eve of war?

I feel on pins and needles, as though some personal decision or tragedy or event were imminent. 

For weeks, then months, we have been wondering conjecturing, guessing-- Will there be war?  Will there NOT be war?

Anne Lindbergh's book, "War Within, War Without", diaries and letters during WWII are brought into sharper focus, given new meaning and definition.  It gives you more understanding of the nations' feelings, tensions, and apprehensions then.  In many ways, those same feelings are probably being repeated now.

I feel just sick thinking of all the innocent civilians, particularly the children, who may be caught up in this.

War seems to be such a hideous thing.

Tuesday, January 15, 1991

Excerpts of letters written to Lois and Janice:

"...then all this news-- War?  No war?  War?  No War?  Keeps you on pins and needles and is very unnerving (at least it is to me, is it too you too?)  I told D. this morning, about feeling in a rut, and when I stopped to think about it, I'll bet there are hundreds of thousands of US men and women in Arabia who would give anything to be here at home in a nice safe boring rut!

The news is so grim.

Here around Omaha SACS (Strategic Air Command) has beefed up security and Offut Air Force Base, and Epply Airfield too.  And the big Fort Calhoun Nuclear Power Plant has done the same too.  Reporters couldn't even get into SACS.

They say it is very dangerous for US servicemen and their families in Germany-- think of Thad and Julie and their babies!

Pan Am and TWA have cancelled most of their European flights.  Did you hear, last night, that our Coast Guard has now been put on alert to watch for any threats to our ports! 

Did you see what the biggest (and latest) sales item in Israel is?...a Plexiglas doghouse with a filter system to protect the family dog from a poison gas attack.  Of all things, did you ever?

No, nothing new here.  I've been glued to the TV during news time lately..."

"...He [John] is absolutely irresistible now.  It's hard, sometimes, to put him down and go do something I should be doing.  He loves to be played with and smiles and coos and "talks" back to you and giggles out loud.  he also growls like a little bear-- very low and sometimes loud.  It's a funny, masculine sound.  Anne can really keep him entertained for a while now.

I see you are keeping somewhat a breast of the war news.  I can't believe it.  It makes me think of how it must have been for Americans before WWII. You know, everyone talks about it, you watch the TV for news of it, it's all you see in the papers-- makes you feel saturated by it.

They really emphasize the dangers of terrorism in this country too.  I told Lois, they've warned people to be careful of places where large crowds may gather, places of finance, etc., airports particularly.

Wednesday, January 16, 1991

D. told me this morning that the president of George Hormels company has received a threat of violence against the Hormels plant here in Fremont-- they have a government contract supplying food to the American troops in Saudi Arabia.  I was not surprised.  I'd been thinking of this possibility weeks before. 

Last night on the news:  Heathrow Airport in London surrounded by army tanks and armed soldiers.  Eerie, surreal sight.

APPROXIMATELY 5:40pm...The War Has Begun!

5:40pm...American attack on Bagdad

6:00pm...Rihad (Arabia)-- sirens.  Confirmation (military) of war.

7:00pm...British are up.

7:10pm...French are up.

8:00pm...President Spoke.

 

 

My Life...Right Now

 

Love Life...I am relishing my time with my husband Joe.  I think that people who've had to spend more of their life searching for their Soul Mate will appreciate the circumstances and the coupling more deeply when they finally make that magickal connection.  It's not something that we take for granted-- having come through several less than satisfactory relationships to get to this point, I can tell you.

 

Do we fight? You bet your sweet booty we do.  We're both very strong and independent individuals.  But we love each other deeply, so we don't stay angry with one another for very long, and neither of us is happy with life when anything is off kilter between us-- it makes the whole world feel slightly ajar.

 

And then...making up is a lot of fun. :)

 

I've never felt so connected to anyone in my life-- this man calls me the moment he clocks out from work, as he's on the way home; we very rarely go anywhere one without the other; he is the first person I see in the morning and the last person I see before I go to sleep at night.  When he gets home from work, in the wee hours, we will spend two or three hours talking, watching a movie-- and laughing...laughing...laughing.  (The kids must think we're nuts.)  I've never laughed so much in my life with anyone-- it is absolutely the most wonderful thing.

 

I would tell my daughters-- "Don't marry a man who can't make you laugh."

 

It's a "forever" thing, My Joe.

 

 

Work...As everyone probably knows (and is tired of hearing about), yes, I'm still working on my next book.  I've never revealed what it's about, but I'll give you a teaser now:  it's a book specifically written for women, to inspire women, to uplift women, to help women.  It is the most important close-to-my-heart project I've ever worked on and is the most important thing I've ever written.

 

This is a book women will read to find inspiration and empowerment; and it's a book men will read to better understand women.

 

And that's all I can say on this subject right now.

 

I would love to do more tarot readings, but in our area there just isn't a strong market for this type of thing, and readings through other means (email, phone, etc.) comes and goes in spurts, which makes it undependable as income, even though it's a lot of fun and very rewarding.

 

There might be other projects coming up (and some in the works), but for now, at this moment, I've got to stay focused on The Book.

 

 

Kids...This summer my oldest daughter will turn 40, and my youngest daughter will turn 14.  Isn't that amazing?  Between Joe and I, we have nine (that's 9) kids.  It makes life interesting, to say the least.  Most everyone gets along with everyone, most of the time, but we do have our trials and tribulations, just as any family will.

 

One just got her first car, another a Learner's Permit; some have had changes in jobs; new apartments; a new managerial position in a local store; a new job in Omaha; breakups with beaus; wedding anniversaries; cross country trips, etc., etc., etc.

 

We have our calm and quiet times, and then again, we'll have some life crisis going on-- never a dull moment.  They're all good kids.

 

 

Thoughts...

 

I'm delighted to have discovered another lady who enjoys the ghost-busting/house blessing venture; someone who can inspire me to pick up Reiki studies where I left off and who will move me on to the next level; someone who enjoys all the marvelous spiritual paths and magickal activities out there, and who loves to learn and study.  It's also just plain fun to find a kindred spirit, a "Sister" in this big wide world.

 

I'm waiting for something, been waiting for something, and am now tired of waiting for something.  When it finally does dawn, I'm afraid that it will seem anti-climactic now.

 

I want, more than ever, to start a little tarot & tea shop, and I've actually found the perfect building, which just happens to be for sale.  But there is the question of financing.  We're still trying to recover financially from my husband's broken foot last summer and the accompanying doctor & hospital bills.  Money is still very tight right now; so in order to take on this endeavor, I would need financial backers.  I'm in the midst of mulling this one over-- the building is just so perfect!

 

So far, for the summer...this is my life in a nutshell.

 

 

 

Summer Storm

I abandoned my hubby (who was hanging a door!) to take video of an incoming storm...

Colors of Me

I am green...I am springtime, that light just birthed green of new buds, sprouts, and baby leaves, fragile and trembly, all new and expectant.

I am red...the velvet red that is rose petals; the rich red of blood and birth.

I am yellow...brilliant and warm, the golden yellow of the sun, the rich yellow of sunflowers, the muted yellow of a sunset, bright and hot with energy and unbridled enthusiasm.

I am black...a cool moonless night, shadowless and still, caught in deep sleep and silence.

I am purple...the regal deep purple of tulips and clematis, dignified and graceful, contained and in control.

I am blue...an endless summer sky with no beginning and no end, forever young, frozen in time.

I am brown...the solid rough trunk of a tree, or soil warmed by the sun, full of living things, seeded with infinite possibilities.

I am orange...a large ripe pumpkin, solid and pompous and in your face, self-confident and proud, the deep orange of mums and asters, quietly beautiful, patient and penetrating.

Men versus Dandelions

Every man I've ever known has glowered at the dandelions in spring.  Every one.  They reach for their bottle of poison, going after these beautiful plants like they were going after an enemy, extermination on their mind.  Dandelions are one of my favorite plants, and as versatile as they are, I'll never understand why they're considered a weed:  the leaves are edible, akin to spinach (but the earlier you gather them, the better, they get bitter as the season wears on); you can make wine from this plant; and they are a good medicinal plant.

"While many people think of the dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) as a pesky weed, it's chock full of vitamins A, B, C, and D, as well as minerals such as iron, potassium, and zinc. Dandelion leaves are used to add flavor to salads, sandwiches, and teas. The roots are used in some coffee substitutes, and the flowers are used to make wines.

In the past, dandelion roots and leaves were used to treat liver problems. Native Americans also boiled dandelion in water and took it to treat kidney disease, swelling, skin problems, heartburn, and upset stomach. In traditional Chinese medicine, dandelion has been used to treat stomach problems, appendicitis, and breast problems, such as inflammation or lack of milk flow. In Europe, it was used in remedies for fever, boils, eye problems, diabetes, and diarrhea.

So far, there have not been any good quality scientific studies on dandelion. Today, the roots are mainly used to stimulate the appetite, and for liver and gallbladder problems. Dandelion leaves are used as a diuretic to help the body get rid of too much fluid..."

This photo was proudly taken yesterday, in our backyard.  My husband Joe picked up his bottle of herbicide, ready to do battle with our crop of dandelions, but it wouldn't work.  The sprayer thingy wouldn't spray...I say it's a sign. :)

The medicinal info for this post was taken from the following site, and there's lots more reading there if you have the time and inclination:

https://umm.edu/health/medical/altmed/herb/dandelion

Vacation: To the Hills & Back

Memoir: Vacation, April 1989

Friday, April 7th, 1989

Our trip is starting in a chilly rain-- and a rain of applesauce!!

It seems to take an interminable time to have everything packed, everything checked in the house, to make beds, dress the Baby-- and of course, she's cranky this morning.  It all reaches a peak after a week of cleaning, packing, baking, making lists.  And then I knock over a whole jar of applesauce putting away dishes that I'd washed the previous night.

I watch in amazement as the serving spoon throws a shower of applesauce spraying across the kitchen.  And Anne, in her striped bibbed overalls, hunches her little shoulders and turns to scurry away, in a vain attempt to elude the applesauce landing all about her!

Our trip is just beginning...

Friday night, 8pm
Parkston SD

Safe and warm in my mother-in-law's house with a raging wind tearing at the windows.  Cold.  Dark sky.  Typical temperamental weather on the mid-western plains. 

It felt like it took such a long time to get here (4 hours).  Anne slept most of the way.

A soft bed, plump pillows, warm blanket, hot coffee.

At first, Anne, in a delirium of excitement, running around looking at everything in the house.  Ooohing and Ahhhing in her baby talk.

Saturday morning, April 8th
Mitchell SD

Stop for gas.

Last night, cool clean sheets.  Anne bundled in her playpen under a wooly red and white blanket.  All night there is a tearing wind.  I wake up near dawn.  Something is different.  The wind has stopped.  It's quiet.

Coffee, eggs, toast for breakfast.  Dress the Baby, gather up our bags and reload the car.  (Always, it seems to me, frantic gathering up of clothes and bags.)

Sunshine this morning, and cold.

Sunday afternoon, April 9th, 4pm
Rapid City SD
The Foothills Inn

Saturday-- long, long drive on the interstate...long evening at Allan and Joyce's.  Noise, confusion, no place quiet to take Anne.  This morning, we are all packed off to church.  Anne fussy.  Breakfast in church basement-- Anne wandering among the tables.  An old lady bent down to hug her.

This afternoon:  driving around the city in a snowstorm!  South Dakota seemingly an expanse of unbroken prairie till you see the emerging shapes of the Black Hills in the distance.

Monday morning, April 10th, 7am
Rapid City SD
The Foothills Inn

Everyone still in bed.  Twin beds-- all they had.  Anne beside me, D. laying in the next bed.  Early morning light trying vainly to seep in around the heavy curtains hung at the patio door.

I'm sleepy but too excited thinking about the day's trip back o Mitchell to sleep.

Last night I went through and sorted and folded clothes and went through Baby's food and paraphernalia.  Everything is nice and tidy.  Anne loved the motel room.  She raced around the empty expanse of gray blue carpet.

The last two days are such a blur.  They went so fast.  We didn't see Mt. Rushmore.  Just after we left Allen's, it began to blizzard.  I looked to the west for the hills and they had disappeared in a white haze!

The next morning, when we step out of our motel room, I am pleasantly surprised to see the hills peeking over our shoulders.  They are dotted with furry pines.  These hills are not like the mesas and mountains I've seen in New Mexico.  These hills are soft, like a woman's body; soft rounded shapes with deep curving crevasses.  The hills in New Mexico are harder, harsher, sharper.  Not as friendly.

Last night at supper-- nice restaurant next to our motel, leisurely drinking coffee after our meal; Anne jabbering in her high chair, happily eating crackers.

Monday, April 10th
Mitchell SD

Arrived  back in Mitchell from the Black Hills in mid-afternoon.  Took baths at Lois's apartment, nice chat.  Lois all soft:  soft blonde hair, soft voice, soft pink slack suit.

At 6pm we went out to see Bonny & Joe & Carrie & the Kids...noise, confusion.  Carrie very tall, her eyes so dark, quick movements, that strange "not-quite-grownup" adolescent way about her.  Everything is rock music, rock bands, guitars, etc. etc.  I begin talking tentatively.  Anne, walking about, not at all afraid.  The center of attention much of the time.

Tuesday, April 11th
Mitchell SD

Roger and Debbie's...the newborn colt, quivery and long legged, white and black, clinging close to it's mother's side.  A cool comfortable house.  Little Colton and Anne toddering around, staring at each other wide-eyed.  A good supper, a lively game, conversation.  Always, between Debbie and I, an underlying difference of opinion-- on horses, on child care, on philosophy.

Wednesday, April 12th
Parkston SD

The afternoon at Ed and Laura's...an immaculate house, a delicious meal.  Anne took a long nap on the floor in the living room, oblivious to the sounds of our voices.

At night, my mother-in-law's house, our haven-- Lois and Janice and Tom down.  Foot long hotdogs with chili and soda pop.  I feel I don't really touch anyone in conversation until talking with Janice at the end of the evening.

Thursday, April 13th
Ethan SD

In the afternoon to Vern and Tracy's:  many memories for me from years and years ago.  The place, the people much the same, almost unchanged.  I had a headache and the beginning of a cold.  Lunch was rushed and we left too soon afterwards.

Friday, April 14th
Mitchell SD

Stopped at Ernie and Irene's in the afternoon.  How I miss my horses there!!  Short afternoon.  Coffee, cookies, Anne very sweet.  Many knick-knacks.  I am always, it seems, running around behind Anne to make sure nothing gets broken!  In the evening back to Bonny and Joe's-- good pizza.  At the end of the evening I and Anne and Carrie are sitting together.  We talk fairly well.

Always rushed for time.  A moment here, a moment there, with one person, then another.

I would rather spend *All Day* with just *One Person*!

 

 

Endless Summer

Memoir: June 28th, 1989

I dreamed very vividly of Grandma's house.  Maybe it's just this time of year-- summer, and heat, and sunshine; and this summer just opens the door to memories of other summers.  Grandma kept her house like a cool dark cave.  You could smell pine-sol on her freshly scrubbed linoleum floors, the rooms were cluttered with knick-knacks and endless bunches of books, and little dogs curled up sleeping in their baskets or at the end of a sofa. (Fans hummed)

I remember lying on my stomach across the foot of my bed upstairs, reading a book by a barely opened window to the east, the diffused light and all the little sounds of summer-- a lawn mower in the distance, birds, the rustling leaves in the large tree outside my window, a dog barking.

It was very peaceful.  You felt as though summer would never end, and you would be thirteen forever.

 

 

"They"

I have discovered that sometimes people like me because I write books-- they don't really like me.  I've discovered that sometimes people want to be my friend because of my spiritual practices, the things I'm involved with, the things I do-- they don't really like me.  My experiences with this type of behavior have left me somewhat gun-shy and much less open and receptive to the general public than I use to be.  I have learned to guard my feelings, sad as that sounds, and to be cautious when someone comes on a little too strong, a little too persistent, a little too starry-eyed and intense.

This is a blog post about friends, friendship, making friends, ulterior motives, expectations, and fantasies.



They like you why?...

 

because you do something that is unusual in their eyes, or exotic even, in an artsy avant-garde manner. 

 

They like you why? ...

 

because you are different and they're drawn to your 'differentness'.

 

They dislike you why?...

 

because you do something that is unusual in their eyes, or exotic even, in an artsy avant-garde manner; and they suddenly realize that in spite of this, you are as plain and ordinary and everyday as they are, and it is a disillusionment for them. 

 

They dislike you why? ...

 

because you are different and they are drawn to your 'differentness', until your 'differentness' does not click with what they expect or approve of, until your 'differentness' sets you apart in some way and they cannot accept it-- or until your 'differentness' wears off, and you are just one of them after all. 

 

The Writer's Corner

 

I'm coming up on 50,000 words written in the manuscript to my next book.  I don't know where this will end, other than to estimate that I have approximately 45 short essays to write for 45 sections, and I have about a half dozen longer sections in a different area to create.  I'm thinking that this book may be around 70,0000-75,000 words when everything is said and done, and I still have lots to say on the topic, which remains my secret at this time.

 

My husband, bless his soul, got me a "Dragon" for Yule last December.  You're suppose to be able to 'talk' your words in, no more typing involved.  So far, I haven't been terrifically successful at this.  The directions say that it takes a lot of practice, and that you have to 'speak in' the punctuation, and that it might take Dragon a little while to get use to your speech pattern.  I've always thought that I was an articulate, fairly intelligent person, but after trying to use this tool, I'm not so sure. It doesn't seem to understand a word I say, except "scratch that", which deletes what you've dictated.  I was saying to someone the other day, that I would hate to think that English is my first language and I spoke it so badly I would need English subtitles (as does a popular reality tv family, who shall go unnamed here)...subtitles, really, so that you can understand their English.  .

 

I spent a good deal of time this morning being all artsy and creative making banners for the Facebook pages devoted to my books, and my 'author' page.  Please don't make me think I wasted all that time and creative energy for naught-- check out the pages and hit the "like" button:

 

Author Page

 

Tarot: A Witch's Journey

 

The Gray Witch's Grimoire

 

Tarot for Grownups

 

I went all crazy making banners, and now I want to make banners for everything.  It's addictive, like Pinterest or Twitter. I made a banner for our private coven group, I made banners for my blogs, I've made banners just to make banners.  I'm telling ya', it's relaxing and therapeutic.

 

The biggest drawback I have to getting any real writing work done during the day are 1) emails-- they always take so long to sort through; 2) Facebook; 3) blogs-- like writing in here when I should be writing somewhere else *cough*; 4) Pinterest, Twitter, Tumblr, and my Google site.

 

There's just too much to look at and read out there; too many people to connect with; too many posts to write to keep everything fresh and interesting.  We don't want Stale!

 

The next couple months may find me busily trying to finish some work up, so if I'm not posting regularly, you'll know that I'm very busy, but I'm still here, still hangin' on, still doin' my Thang.

 

And that's enough from this Writer's Corner.

 

Old Cowboys Never Die

The wicker rocking chair on the front porch would creak and move occasionally as the old man jerked his knees, or threw his arm in the air, waving it in feeble circles above his head.  His daughter stood on the porch and watched him.  She looked at the old man's eyes.  They were lit up and sparkling, seeing things she couldn't.'

She knew where he was, just by the look on his face. He was on his horse again, swinging the rope above his head with firm brown hands, strong thighs hugging the saddle, handsome face shielded beneath the brim of a cowboy hat.  But in an instant, the sparkle vanished from the old man's eyes.  He brought his twisted fingers down and grasped the arm of the chair.

The old man turned to the young woman standing before him, seeing another face there, a beautiful face from his past.

"I want my hat, Clare, and my boots, too." he croaked.

"Okay," the young woman said easily.  She was use to him calling her by her mother's name.

The sun was just setting when she came out to get the old man.  She opened her mouth to speak and stopped.  His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted.  She reached down and took the cowboy hat gently from his hands.  They fell limply in his lap, the fingertips already turning blue.

She raised her head suddenly, cocking it to the side, startled, listening.  For a second she thought she heard the sound of horse's hooves beating against the hard ground, the sound fading into the distance.

The young woman looked down at her father's face.  The old man's lips were curved in a smile.

 

In Memory of My Father, James Reinartz,
who passed away Thursday, March 13, 2014

 

When is Enough Too Much

Dealing with the public can be a strange experience. I've had unique and magical experiences, puzzling experiences, shocking experiences, and a few unpleasant experiences-- but very few have been unpleasant, I have to say.  My most unusual, I like to tell people, is the one from the transsexual who wanted to know if I had a magick spell that would allow him to go back and forth between female and male genitalia.  I've had people call me at 2am with a question about my website, and I've had people call me expecting a free and instantaneous tarot reading-- as I'm driving down an Omaha freeway.

I love receiving emails and feedback from people.  I wish I could answer every single message that comes in, and I'm sure that anyone sending me an email would certainly expect an answer.  However, because of the bulk of emails I receive, about 200 a day, this is not possible.  And actually, I have very little time to dabble with correspondence unless it's something financial, business related (from an editor, producer, etc.),  or something from a client that would require my immediate attention in some way.  Other than this, I might scroll through and catch some of the Subject Lines, but that's about all I can do.

Once in a while, just once in a while mind you, something does catch my eye and I'll type off a quick reply.  Usually I'll receive a quick 'touch back', a quick 'thank you' in return.  It makes me feel good. I've reached out to someone and they've reached back, and this is as far as it goes. 

Usually.

Until this past week.  This is what transpired to bring me to the question that is the title of this post, "When is enough too much?"  I've changed the name of the individual who sent me these messages to protect her privacy, bearing in mind that there might be a slight chance that she actually doesn't realize she's being rude.  We'll call her "Melissa".  All of her correspondence will be left completely unedited except for the name change in the first sentence...

Melissa:

hi, my name is melissa

Im just starting to get into all of this and I found your website (http://ladyamythyst.webs.com/crystalsstones.htm) great website by the way

which comes my dilemma, i tried to google for my answer but every website seems to say something completely opposite the information on your website. And the other information that comes up in my google searches doesn't seem like reliable sources. getting bad vibes from them.

Im trying to do a lo shu grid in my home and place the corresponding stones in their positions, but i don't have all the stones, im wondering if you can give me some sources or maybe your know yourself if there is other stones i can use besides what you have listed

my problem areas that i need stones for are the career section & the family section, im wondering in the career section can i use obsidian or azurite instead of (black onyx, blue tiger eye, lapis)

AND in the family section can i use azurite instead of (aventurine, chrysoprase, malachite)

if these aren't adequate substitutions do you have any recommendations for other stones that will also work in these areas?

My Response:

An excellent source for information on substitutions (whether for stones or herbs) are books by Scott Cunningham:  his "Encyclopedia of Magickal Herbs; and his book "Crystal, Gem, and Metal Magick".  You can find these books at Amazon.
 
Your choices sound excellent to me-- and don't be afraid to go with the feeling you personally get from the energy.  You know what your family needs in the way of energy, healing, and rejuvenation better than anyone else would.
 
Blessings,
Amythyst

Melissa:

so it doesn't matter what i put in the lo shu grid? How did you come to the conclusion of what stones go where in the information provided in your website? Is there really no rhyme or reason? just what i feel I should put there? Is that why every website and information source has completely different stones in their lo shu grid?

My Response:

You apparently have not read all the information.  Scroll down from the lo shu grids for northern/southern hemisphere and you'll find specific stones for specific intentions, and you'll also find a list of stones connected to the elements:

http://ladyamythyst.webs.com/crystalsstones.htm

Why do I associate the stones that I do with various intentions, locations, etc.?-- because this is how I was taught.

Melissa:

well i did read all the information, i just dont have all of the stones you have specified so i am wondering about substitution stones. im sorry obviously you are irritated by me. I was just wanting to talk to you because you seemed knowledgable and friendly. im sorry to have bothered you. ill just have to find my answer another way. hope what ever is stressing you out subsides.

____________________

Okay, let's get a few things straight...

1)  I do retain a pretty good amount of occult information in my head, but I am not a walking encyclopedia.  In order for me to decide what stones would be appropriate substitutions for you, I would have to consult some books, do some research, and actually put time and effort into the endeavor.  Do you have any idea how many such requests I get for this type of thing each week?  Lots.

2)  On the link to my website, I believe you'll find quite a listing of stones to begin with, from there, it's up to you to do your own research.  I gave you the title of a book (Scott Cunningham's book) which would be an excellent place for you to start, and an excellent book to add to your personal library if you're going to start working with crystals and stones.  In a lot of books on this topic, you can actually look up stones by "Intentions", and you will find lists of stones for unique individual purposes, i.e. love, money, protection, health, etc.

3)  I would love to be independently wealthy and to have nothing better to do than work 24/7 on research and foot-work to help other people put together spells, etc.  However, this is not the case.  My time is valuable to me.  If you want me to spend time researching your situation, lining up correspondences, pouring over books, putting your spells together, and everything else that goes along with this-- you will have to pay me for my time.  That's why I developed the page at my website called "Spell Consultations"... http://ladyamythyst.webs.com/spellconsultations.htm

4)  "Melissa" broke the cardinal rule...she was rude.  "Melissa" does not realize how lucky she was just to get her email answered the first time.  And yes, Melissa, you are right about one thing-- you are irritating.  Buy a book, read, learn.  It's okay to ask questions, most definitely, but it's not okay to be rude; and eventually, if you're really serious about getting into this, you'll have to make some decisions on your own. 

You want substitutions for your stones?-- I told you that your suggestions sounded excellent.  I gave you the title of a book and where to purchase it so that you could find more answers.  And that's all I can do for you.