Ask Your Mama by Mama Donna Henes

Are you cyclically confused? In a ceremonial quandary? Completely clueless? Wonder no more.

Ask Your Mama™

The What, When, Where, Why, How, and Who of

Ceremony & Spirituality

by

©Mama Donna Henes, Urban Shaman

A Question of Spell Casting

Dear Mama Donna,

This has been a nightmare year for me. One terrible thing after another has been happening. My whacko neighbor keeps hinting that she has put a spell on me. Things have been so incredibly horrendous that I am beginning to believe her. I am totally spooked. Can you put the spell back onto her?

-Helpless in Brooklyn

Dear (Not-So) Helpless,

No, no, a thousand times no!

Your question is one that I receive fairly often, and the answer is always, “Absolutely Not.” Ritual magic is not meant to manipulate others, but to tranceform one’s self. We all need to assume personal response-ability for our own thoughts and actions, our point of view, our path.

There is plenty that you can do for yourself to alleviate, mitigate, make sense of, and maybe even completely alter your current situation — from the inside out. And I would be glad to work with you to that end.

We could purify you from the all the pain and disappointments you have been suffering. We could cleanse you of your paranoia and sense of persecution and defeat. We could begin to repair and enrich your sense of center, of confidence, esteem, and autonomy. We could ceremonially re-claim the sovereign power over yourself that you have given away to this person.

We could work to exercise your will — the will to will your will — to maintain a positive and self-nurturing mode of living. We could create affirmations, blessings, amulets, altars, prayers, protections, and ceremonies for you so that you feel completely safe and free from negative influences — especially your own. We could find creative ways to identify, focus, dedicate, manifest, and project your desire and hopeful intentions for meaningful change.

.

But we cannot work on your neighbor, or anyone else, without her awareness and permission. We cannot, without consequence, interfere with someone else’s fate. If it gives you any comfort, remember that all things that go around, have a tendency to ultimately come around — all in the course of the cycles and without any interfering help from us!

If she is indeed sending you hateful energy, that is on her, as they say. What you need to deal with is: What is on you?? If, after consideration, you truly want to cast a spell on someone, there are individual (not necessarily representative) unscrupulous practitioners* of every stripe and persuasion who will perform any spell you want for as much money as they can squeeze from your desperation. But then, that is on you.

You mention feeling helpless. We are all helpless to a certain degree in this life. Things happen. Shit happens. Bad things happen to good people every second of every day. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to rise to whatever the occasion in the finest way that we can. To adapt. To expand. To evolve. To grow. To know. To thrive. Cause and effect, guilt and blame are completely beside the spiritual point.

We can choose to accept adversity as a life lesson — not a punishment, mind you — but as an instructor. A very scary, mean one whom we will never forget. A strict disciplinarian with a sick sense of humor and a wooden ruler. The hardest of times teach us the most about our essential selves; and if all those old wives are right, what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. Who ever said it was going to be easy, anyway?

The ability of making the best of things is probably our most noble and powerfully human attribute. When life serves us lemons, we can, like Dolly Parton, make lemonade. Or lemon meringue pie. Or lemon furniture polish. Or we can paint lemons, or compose lemon odes, raps, sonatas, arias. Sing the sad songs of lemons. Meditate on lemons, keep a lemon journal, or take a lemon bath.

We can work on developing the trust that everything that happens, happens for the ultimate good. Karma, Fate, Tao, Dharma, synchronicity, serendipity, don’t march in a straight line. The patterns of connection aren’t necessarily clear or obvious or immediate. But in this complex web of a universe of ours, one thing ultimately does lead to another, and it is at our discretion what to do when it does.

Yours for every positive possibility,

Mama Donna

* Certainly most practitioners are well intentioned and completely ethical. But there are always exceptions. As always, use your judgment and trust your instincts.

**Send your questions about seasons, cycles, celebrations, ceremonies and spirit to Mama Donna at: CityShaman@aol.com

Athene Parthenogenesis by Jessica North-O'Connell

I was nine when I discovered the world of Myth, starting with the myths of Greece. The first Goddess with whom I felt an affinity was Athene. At a time when the role of woman was measured against her usefulness to man, I was impressed with the story of Athene’s birth, that she sprang from Zeus’s head, fully grown and wearing a suit of armor, after causing him an incurable headache. That must have given him something to think about!

I am Idea,

Goddess within.

Most surely the patriarchs sing

that I sprang fully-grown

and full-armored from the headache of Zeus,

impetuous Zeus,

for he could not contain me

but the reverse

The truth, seldom acquiesced,

was the greed of Zeus for the wisdom

of my mother-based culture, both ripe and mature

He engulfed my “mother” after an uneasy alliance,

swallowing the hope of truce between our diverse peoples

and with it the knowledge of my original self;

but with knowledge lost there was no hope of wisdom

and so it was Zeus squandered that which he sought to gain

engendering ever thereafter slaves to a misplaced ideal

It seemed then that I favored the masculine,

for it was the masculine who reshaped me

into a form upon which he could more easily reflect,

filling my muted mouth with heresies

so betraying my beleaguered people

Unwittingly he laid a bridge,

threatening to extinguish an entire world,

misdeeds of the father visited upon the son;

such is the price exacted

for the recall of a desecrated ancient wisdom

In womanly fashion I have been (and remain) receptive,

embodiment of the power to wait

but wheels turn as Gaia sweeps across the sky

time-spinning,

spiralling ever towards creation

for I am

the ineffable feminine spirit,

essential intelligence of Gaia herself,

home of the Feminine incarnate

in a feminine star system

And he who dares look too boldly upon my face,

trapped in the exiguity of his own hubris,

turns himself to stone

for he cannot contain me,

but the reverse

I, like the sun,

am a weaver,

while she who is my illuminated sister,

weaves on the tapestry of my being

day after endless day

and I,

mother of nations, begetter of myself,

birther of equals, strategists,

priestesses, queens

have, in truth, never left home

Child of Gaia, in whose likeness

you

create

me

sing loudly now my names

sprung in plenty from the wells

of your own deep wisdom;

I forget not my own

Dance your way across the aeons-spanning bridge

built through the misguided dreams

of your errant elder brothers,

reclaim your knowledge * wisdom * power

buried like treasure

in the spiral chordings of your genes

and place no other gods

before You

Athene Parthenogenesis: Reclaiming the Feminine Standard

Her name, Parthenia, means “I have come from myself,” while the meaning of Athene has been lost in antiquity. Her stories have been traced to Mycenaea, Northern Africa including Egypt, Anatolia and the Minoan culture. Originally, to our knowledge, she represented the bond existent among family members, symbolized by the hearth and home. Her tools were those implements associated with domesticity: the spindle, loom and cooking utensils. Her realm grew to include not only individual family units but finally the entire community, and it was thus that she became known as the Goddess of civilization.

According to Robert Graves, Athene also invented the flute and the trumpet, and agricultural implements such as the plough and rake. Her gift to humanity extended to the realm of mathematics, the arts and, of course, the “womanly arts” of spinning, weaving and needlework. She introduced more sophisticated means of transportation by inventing the ship, chariot and bridle for horses.

Classical Greek myth tells us that Athene sprang, fully grown, from the head of her “father” Zeus wearing full battle regalia. She became known as a goddess of war, although her stories suggest that she was more a strategist and negotiator than an actual warrior. Her reputation as a warrior may have arisen from her identification with the Amazons, women who lived in communities independent of men save for the purposes of expansion.

One myth tells us that Athene took the name Pallas upon the inadvertent death of her friend by that name during a sparring match. Pallas was a pre-Hellenic Goddess whose name means “great maiden.” Another Pallas, a tribal protector-Goddess of Greek origin, was introduced to the indigenous followers of Athene, and the two concepts of the Goddess became fused together, indicating the emergence of a new society. Other sources suggest that Pallas was a phallic god whom Athene took as a lover but did not marry. However, “Pallas” may derive from “palladium,” a statue of the Goddess purported to have fallen from the sky and which was paraded through the city streets during her festivals.

She was once assaulted by Hephaestos, the lame son of Zeus, husband of Aphrodite and god of the metal forge. Though she was triumphant in her resistance, the smith-god managed to ejaculate upon her leg. Athene wiped his semen from her with a bit of fleece and flung it upon the earth, which became fertilized and birthed the serpent Erichthonius. Athene took responsibility for the serpent and his image was finally placed in the constellation of the charioteer (Auriga).

The serpent, however, has long been associated with both feminine wisdom and the life force itself, chi or kundalini (most often represented as a serpent coiled at the base of the human spinal column). The serpent and owl are two of the iconic animals affiliated with the concept of wisdom, and both appear with representations of Athene as her familiars.

No examination of Athene can be undertaken without consideration of the Gorgon Medusa, the roots of whose story lie in the myths of the Sun Goddesses of pre-Hellenic Anatolia, Africa, Assyria, Crete and even the Sumer-Akkadian cultures (21^st century, B.C.E.).

Medusa is most familiar to us from the Classical Greek story of the beautiful woman who took Poseidon (whose name means “husband of earth”) as a lover and offended Athene by making love with him in the precinct of one of the Goddess’s temples.

Enraged, Athene turned Medusa’s hair into snakes and cursed her with a gaze which could turn humans to stone should they chance to look upon her. She then banished Medusa to the end of the world, there to live with the two other Gorgons until the Achaean hero Perseus, equipped with a mirror-like shield from Athene herself, beheaded Medusa. Upon her death, the winged horse Pegasus and the boy-child Chyasoar were born from the blood of her severed head.

Perseus quickly put Medusa’s head in a bag and brought her head back to the Goddess. Thereafter, Athene wore Medusa’s snake-haired head upon her shield.

Perhaps it was not the head of Zeus from which proud Athene sprang forth, but the solar head of Gorgon Medusa herself, representative of intellectual prowess and enlightenment, and example of the rebirth of the self. Myths of the dismemberment of female deities, called “demons” by the conquering patriarchs, abound. These are a testament of the often brutal subjugation of earlier female-based or egalitarian cultures by the “heroes” of the incoming hierarchical social order, and hence, the psychological paradigm whereby the feminine aspect is violently repressed within the masculine psyche.

Or perhaps Medusa is the third aspect of a Triple Goddess pantheon, maiden/mother/crone: Athene as the youthful maiden, the brilliant and energetic guardian, Metis as the wisdom-bearer and birther of civilizations and Medusa as the crone, her light spreading generously over all the world and from whom her maiden self emerges again and again at the winter solstice. Athene, surviving the age of the patriarch, brings them all together under her aegis.

We see the rebirth of aspects of Athene in the women’s movement, in feminist theory and the visibility of women if all sectors of public life. As her influence grows, every one of us will recognize her in our own personal integrity, sovereignty, respect for the family bond and care for our community, which is the world. Ultimately the work of women as builders and preservers of true civilization will be recognized for that which it is: part of the creative expressions of Gaia, planet earth.

Beltaine - A Red Ritual by De-Anna Alba from Cauldron of Change

In the Mythic cycle/seasonal cycle of life, Aradia, Beltaine celebrates Her rite of passage into womanhood. She passes from girl-child to fertile woman and enters into the heart of Women’s Mysteries, the unique power that belongs to the female alone. With it come rights and responsibilities. She enters the house of the Moon and feels its influence within the ebb and flow of Her own body. She sees for the first time how the monthly cycle of Her body reflects the larger cycle of the seasons of the year, and of all life which passes into existence through the feminine. Her blood also celebrates that connection, and the connection to the Great Goddess at First Ancestress.

This ritual requires the red cords and red clothing, or white clothing with red “stains.” (or no clothes at-all!) The altar cloth and candles are red. A bouquet of red carnations or roses sits upon the altar. The bouquet includes one flower for each woman present. There is a garland of flowers for Aradia, as well. Wine, pomegranate juice, cherry juice, cranberry juice, or menstrual blood is in the chalice. The cauldron contains glowing coals upon which water may be sprinkled to create steam. If this cannot be managed, burn a smokey incense (like frankincense tears) on the coals. Incense, a candle, water and salt are placed around the cauldron. The youngest woman present will enact the part of Aradia. The eldest will be the First Ancestress and will wear the lunar crescent.

The ritual bath area should be lit with red candles; red carnations and white gardenias (or carnations) should float in the bath water. Add a few drops of musk oil to the water. An earthy incense should burn in the censer – patchouli, or another of your preference. Each takes the ritual bath, beginning with the woman enacting the roll of Aradia. During the bath, thought should be given to the special significance of menarche and how nice it would have been if we each had been honored in this way. Take time to honor yourself. As each woman emerges from the bath, the Facilitating Priestess gives her an herbal tea made for the bleeding woman. This could be a PMS teas, a tea for cramps, or one to encourage the flow. The choice is yours.

When all is ready and the altar candles are lit, the Facilitating Priestess casts the Circle, consecrates it and consecrates all present, and then invokes the Quarters. She then calls the woman acting the part of the First Ancestress to join her behind the altar. The Facilitating Priestess picks up the crescent crown and turns to face the women. She invokes Her saying:

“Oh Ancient of Days, Prime Progenitress, She who lived first so that we might live and our foremothers before us, be with us now to welcome your daughter, Aradia, into the community of all women and into the Circle of Life. Grant us Your presence and wisdom, and share your joy.”

The Facilitating Priestess crowns the First Ancestress and pauses a moment to allow Her to speak if She will. The Facilitating Priestess then calls the woman enacting Aradia to the front of the altar. She places the garland of flowers on Her head and says:

“Aradia, daughter of All Mother, today You enter the community of all women and assume the responses and responsibilities of a woman grown. The ebb and flow of Your body connects You to the cycles of the Lady Moon and the tides of Yemaya; to the Great Mother, Gaia, and the divine female in all Her manifestations. This is the time of Your greatest power and the elements will bless you to it.”

The Facilitating Priestess takes the chalice from the altar, stands beside Aradia, puts her arm around Her and gently guides Her to the Eastern Quarter. There she raises the chalice and invokes the element and Goddesses of Air, saying:

“Hear me O Mighty Ones, Great Queens of the regions of the East, we ask that you attend us here and consecrate this woman born with the power and wisdom of the spirits of the Air.”

The woman standing at the East takes the chalice from the Priestess and, dipping her finger (s) in it, anoints Aradia on the forehead (third eye) with the red fluid, saying:

“I give You the gift of focused attention. Of it is born intuition and action as well as awareness of Yourself and Your needs. With it You’ll know Yourself and others – their truths and their falsehoods; their intentions toward you for good or for ill. You’ll see to the heart of every matter and act with wisdom, integrity and honor. Each month when You bleed, remember me and my gift with an offering of incense and smoke.”

Aradia throws incense on the coals in the cauldron. The Priestess regains the chalice and guides Aradia to the South. Holding the chalice aloft, she invokes:

“Hear me oh Mighty Ones, Great Queens of the regions of the South, we ask that you attend us here and consecrate this woman born with the powers and the wisdom of the spirits of the South.”

The Priestess hands the chalice to the woman at the South, who anoints Aradia’s womb with the fluid therein, saying:

“I give to You the gift of passion and the responsibilities thereof: to give of Your body to those You feel are worthy; to take delight in the pleasures of the flesh along with the emotional honesty and clarity it demands; to know and to respect Your need – and the needs of others – for separation as well as for union; for privacy as well as for intimacy; for gentle love as well as for driving lust. Know, too, that Your body can now create, nourish and birth a child – a sacred task not undertaken lightly, if at all. Be mindful of the choice. Each month when You bleed remember me with an offering of fire.”

Aradia takes a new candle from beside the cauldron, lights it from the cauldron’s cols and sets it up to the South of the cauldron. The Facilitating Priestess takes back the chalice and escorts Aradia to the West, where she invokes, with raised chalice:

“Hear me oh Mighty Ones, Great Queens of the region of the West; we ask that you attend us here and consecrate this woman born with the wisdom and powers of the spirits of the West.”

The woman in the West takes the chalice and anoints Aradia’s breasts, saying:

“Mine is the gift of intuition – to know Your body and the cycles of its seasons. Such knowledge of your body will increase Your psychic abilities and will ease the transition into and out of Your greatest time of personal power, which is centered within Your bleeding time. Go into Your Moon Temple at that time and divine the future, integrate the past, decide Your course of action for the present, and remember me with an offering of fluid.”

Aradia takes the chalice and pours a small libation from it into the cauldron. She then returns the chalice to the Priestess, who takes it and guides Her to the North. The Priestess invokes with raised chalice, saying:

“Hear me oh Mighty Ones, Great Queens of the region of the North, attend us here and consecrate this woman born with the wisdom and the powers of the spirits of the North.”

The woman standing in the North takes the chalice and anoints Aradia’s feet, saying:

“May Your feet rest firmly on the understanding I bring – the knowledge of the sacred ground upon which You walk. The Earth, Herself complete with cycles and seasons of life and of death as reflected in Your body and Hers. Your own divinity is a diminutive reflection of Her Holiness. Each month, when You bleed, remember me with an offering of salt.”

Aradia throws a pinch of salt into the cauldron. The Facilitating Priestess returns the chalice to the altar picks up the bouquet and gives one flower to each woman in the Circle except for Aradia. Aradia, escorted by the Priestess, is then presented to each woman in the Circle, beginning with the woman to the left of the First Ancestress. Each woman hands Aradia her flower with a wish for Her. Each woman then connects her red cord to the waist portion of the cord of the woman to her right, saying something about the monthly blood connecting us to the women who have gone before us, or about it being a red thread woven into the tapestry of all women’s lives.

When Aradia comes to the First Ancestress, She receives a flower and wish from Her. Aradia is then placed in the Circle to the right of the First Ancestress. The Facilitating Priestess ties Aradia’s cord to the waist cord of the woman on Her right. The Priestess then ties the cord of the First Ancestress to Aradia’s waist, saying:

“Thus is the last connected to the first and the first to the last within the Circle of women. Your blood connects You to all who have gone before and to all who are yet to come, and binds You directly to She Who Bled First. And the red thread spins on in the hands of the Ancient of Days.”

She touches the hands of the First Ancestress. The Facilitating Priestess steps to the center of the Circle near the cauldron, replenishes the smoke, removes her own cord, lays it in a circle around the cauldron and the four elements on the floor, and says:

“And when we come to the time when our bleeding stops and it returns to the elements from which it came, we will gladly stand on the rim of the cauldron of transformation (she straddles it) and embrace and honor the changes it brings.”

All women untie themselves from each other and remove the cord from their waist, dropping it at their feet in a ritual foreshadowing (or remembering) their own menopause. The Facilitating Priestess says:

“And our connection to each other will turn from red to gray.” (She indicates her hair.)

The First Ancestress is thanked, and the crown is returned to the altar. The ritual of Milk, Honey and Grain is celebrated. All sit to feast and to share stories of their own menarche – how they felt, and how their mothers reacted. Any information relative to the May Moon is passed on. The Quarters are dismissed and the Circle is declared open.

The Rite is ended.

Beltaine The Red Ritual by De-Anna Alba. This ritual is from The Cauldron of Change: Myth, Mysteries, Magick of the Goddess. Delphi Press, August 2993, ISBN: 978-1878980083. Used with permission from the author. De-Anna Alba has a ritual consulting service and provide spiritual direction for Wiccans, Pagans and Goddess Worshippers of all stripes. Interested parties may contact her at de-anna@leapierce.com

Beltane Solitary Ritual By Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

Theme for this ritual

This ritual is to honor your blood and the blood of your ancestors

To prepare for the ritual have a ritual bath with some bath salts. Play some relaxing music. Set up your altar.

Preparation - Items needed for this ritual include the following:

Dress and adorn yourself in a way that celebrates your beauty

Red altar cloth

One red candle

Matches to light candles

Background music

Cast your Circle

Walk the Circle three times with an athame or other tool that represents fire and say: "Bless this Circle as I walk with love and trust. I honor my blood and the blood of my ancestors."

Calling the Elements

Hail to the Spirit of the East, Element of Air. Your clear blue skies carry the scent of life. Please join me today.

Hail to the Spirit of the South, Element of Fire. The warmth of life flows through my body. Please join me today.

Hail to the Spirit of the West, Element of Water. The gentle rains pour forth new life. Please join me today.

Hail to the Spirit of the North, Element of Earth. Your fertile body nurtures the seeds of life. Please join me today.

This Circle is now cast and I am between the worlds.

Call forth the power of the Goddess

Hail to the Goddess, I look around and you are everywhere. You bless me every day with love and joy. Please join me today.

The Meditation and the Work

This is the time to honor your blood. It is the sacred force that brings forth new life. When a maiden has her first blood, it should be celebrated. It is a rite of passage. She now has the knowledge of the wise women and can draw from that knowledge as she needs. For women still menstruating, it is important to see this time as a reminder that we carry the blood of life. In many cultures, the women that cease to bleed are considered the wise ones. They are revered since they withhold their wise blood.

Light the red candle and perform a self-blessing:

Goddess, bless my eyes so that I may see the truth

Bless my ears that I may see you in everything

Bless my nose that I may smell the scent of new life

Bless my mouth that I may speak the truth

Bless my hands so that I may feel what I cannot see

Bless my heart that I may know love

Bless my breasts that hold power and nourishment

Bless my lungs that I may breathe deep and center

Bless my womb the center of my being and new life

Bless my feet as I walk your path

While listening to the background music, ask yourself these questions.

- How do I honor my own sacred blood or the blood of other women? Decide how you are going to do this whether it will be a physical act or mental note. Find ways to celebrate having a woman’s body. Honor this commitment to yourself.

- What holds me back from opening to my desires, from participating in and celebrating life? Look at the internal restrictions you have placed on your body, heart, and mind which keep you from fully partaking in the sacred and simple joys of living. Meditate on this to find the answers.

Once you are finished meditating, dance in front of a mirror. See the beauty in yourself. When you are finished dancing, extinguish the red candle.

Release the Goddess and the Elements

I ask that your blessings remain in my heart and that I live in harmony with all that dwell on the earth. Thank you for joining me today. Hail and Farewell.

Spirit of the North, the seeds you have nourished begin to bloom. Thank you for joining me today. Hail and Farewell.

Spirit of the West, the rain provides life giving water. Thank you for joining me today. Hail and Farewell.

Spirit of the South, my body is warmed by you. Thank you for joining me today. Hail and Farewell.

Spirit of the East, the scent of life is still on the breeze. Thank you for joining me today. Hail and Farewell.

The Circle is open but remains unbroken.

Blessed Be!

Book Review: Craft of the Wise by Vikki Bramshaw

Book Review by Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

When I was first asked to review this book I was a bit hesitant because I thought it was going to be another Wicca 101 type book. I am happy to report that I was completely wrong on this assumption. This is an excellent book and I wouldn’t describe it a beginner’s book at all. It is full of information and the author provides the reader guidance as they read through the book. If you like an easy to read and understand reference book, this is definitely a book you should have in your library.

I really enjoyed reading this book. It was very detailed and included a lot of historical information starting with ancient times and working to present day. There is a short summary of ancient civilizations that I found very interesting. It is presented in such a way that it does not come across as dry or boring. I found myself constantly writing little notes so that I could follow up on my own. She gives a brief biography of important people in the development of modern day witchcraft.

There are several meditations. The first one is a wonderful meditation to connect with our ancestors. The second is to assist with manifestation followed by a meditation to cleanse the chakras. The last meditation is to is named A Meditation of the Astral Temple.

The author gives the reader many tasks to do. One of the first tasks is an exercise to create our own Green Man. Then there are tasks and exercises to get in touch with the Elements. There are several related tasks: to create an altar, casting a circle and cleansing magical tools. There are also tasks to help evoke the power of the Goddess and the God along with exercises to tap into feminine and masculine power. The last task is to take a self assessment quiz.

There are layouts for rituals: full moon, Sabbats, rites of passage and celebrations. There is also a section for initiation, first degree, second degree and third degree along with ritual practices. There is an entire chapter on the solar year starting with Yule and ending with Samhain.

She also included a wheel of the correspondences and how they relate with colors, symbols, elements, the moon and other astrological objects. I was glad to see a section on beginner’s astrology that wasn’t too technical. There is even a short discussion on the Law of Return. I was particularly interested in the section on the Ogham since it a major part of my tradition. She continues with herbs and incense.

Ms. Bramshaw has written an excellent book and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an all purpose reference book.

Book Review: Dark Mage by Ciaran Corby

Dark Mage by Ciaran Corby

Book Review by Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

Mystic Moon Press, LLC

Santa Fe, NM 87507

179 pages

www.mysticmoonpress.com

I was recently contacted by the author to review this book. When I heard what the story was about I knew immediately it would be an interesting read. Who doesn’t like a book about magic, faeries, wizards and the fight of good versus evil?

The book starts with Kerberos, the Dark Mage, arriving at the shore of Syren a magical city. His goal is to take over the city and make it his own. He is greeted by a vampire, Denella and she tells him she will assist him in his plans. He then meets a faerie, Seana, the daughter of King Oberon. She is concerned for him and tries to discourage him to change his plans. We also meet Gailyn, the Phoenix Mage that watches over Syren. Not everything is as it first appears with the characters in the story. They are very well defined and each has a depth of emotions. I found it to be a very enjoyable story. I look forward to reading more from this author.

Book Review: Forest Song Little Mother by Vila SpiderHawk

Forest Song: Little Mother by Vila SpiderHawk

Book Review by Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

Forest Song: Little Mother is magnificent. It is such a moving story. It took me on an emotional roller coaster. I could not stop reading it! I would say, “Just one more chapter” and then when that chapter ended I said the same thing. The night I finished it, it was after 3 a.m. I laughed and cried as I watched Judy grow into a woman. The characters are so well developed that I feel as if I know Judy and her forest family.

In this installment of the Forest Song series we see Judy moving into her own house. Judy becomes the Mother of the Forest. This is important step for her and at first she is unsure that she can fulfill this role. The war is coming closer to the forest. Judy and her family continue to help as many people as they can to escape the war and find comfort in a new start in a new country. There are hardships and heartbreak in this story but there is also the development of a deep and lasting love. These are all reflections of the reality in life. The way that this story is written, with actual historical events happening, makes it feel even more real if that is possible.

This is a book that all women should read, since it explores all aspects of being a woman and the magic that is within all of us. I think it is important to make sure that women know about great women writers and I count Vila SpiderHawk at the top of my list. This is the third book in the Forest Song series. I look forward to reading the next book to find out what happens with Judy and her family.

Book Review: Rusalka Moon by Cenizas De Rosas

Book Review by Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

The author shares this Ukrainian story of the mystical creatures. It starts with an old woman telling a story of when she was a young girl. The story is about her sister-in-law Valasha and her love Vasily. It is written in a time when the Czar was still the ruler of the land. Vasily is intrigued with the idea of joining the Czar’s army and becoming an important and man – the glory of war. He and two friends leave with the misguided idea that they will be famous and wealthy when the return in six months. What they find is a harsh life full of hardships and hunger. They long to return to their families and farms. The six months soon turn into years. Not all of them return when the war is over.

Valasha, heartbroken and full of fear that Vasily is dead, becomes despondent and throws herself into the river. The Vodany traps her soul to keep her as his bride and becomes the Rusalka. In the autumn, the Rusalka dance with the wheat to ensure a good harvest. Vasily must try to release Valasha from the Vodany so that she can be free. This is a story of many types of love.

This was an enjoyable book to read. It was easy to visualize the characters and the farms they lived on. I look forward to reading more from this author.

Celtic Tree Sign for Beltane by Carmen Reyes

Celtic Tree Sign for Beltane

By Carmen Reyes

If You were born April 15 – May 12

Your Tree Sign is

Willow

“The wind in the willows

Sweet enchantment

Beneath the silvery moon”

Botanical Information

Salix alba, the White Willow, one of the earliest trees to flower in spring, gets its name from its leaves which are whitish and hairy underneath.

Tree Name

The willow's scientific name, Salix, comes from the Celtic words sal, meaning near, and lis, meaning water, and refers to the tree's fondness for the borders of streams, ponds, marshes, and other watery places. From the Old Irish word for the willow, Saille, comes the expression “to sally forth” which means a sudden outburst of emotions or expression.

Tree Goddess

Helice, the Willow Goddess
Helice is the Willow-Maid, the Willow Goddess, Goddess of the Willow Grove, or the willow stream which is a thick stand of willow trees growing along the stream bank which surrounds Mount Helicon, the birth place of the Greek Goddesses and the site of the temple of the Muses.

Tree Attributes

Willow is a tree of mystery associated with divination and love.

Willow wood in the home is said to guard against evil and grown outside will offer protection.
Long before the advent of the analgesic aspirin, willow was used to relieve pain by drinking a decoction of the bark and sap, or by chewing young willow twigs.

Willow branches are said to be the best for divining water, and channeling Earth energy.

Tree Craft

You can make a protective willow knot from a green pliable branch, shaping it into a figure eight. It will enhance your psychic abilities, bring you enchanting dreams and lend protective qualities.

Tree Personality

Intuitive dreamers and spiritual seekers, moody, changeable and mysterious, Willow people seek the freedom to experience inner realms. They are full with emotion, extremely flexible, changeable, passively tenacious, shrewd, and somewhat living on an emotional edge with their psychic antennae switched on. Willows’ clairvoyant abilities enable them to tune into the mass consciousness. They must be careful to not be carried away by the rising tide.

Tree Magic

There is a saying “All cats were grey from the beginning”, this saying refers to magic cats called graymalkins that were said to grow from pussy-willows or catkins. These greymalkins or grey cats, become witches' familiars called malkins.

Willow magic brings us in touch with our feminine mysteries. Willow moon is a time of feeling deep emotions, a dreamy ethereal time to awaken love from our deepest depths. Willow is used for charms of fascination and binding.

Tree Essence

Salix alba the white willow essence offers perception of the true self in relation to existence, bringing clarity, balance and a sense of spiritual cleansing. Willow essence helps you to “bend” and “flow” emotionally.

Salix alba essence is available from the Green Man Essences in the UK, and Salix vitellina, from Healing Herbs and Bach Flower Essences which can be found at Natural Food stores.

Tree Message

The Lady Who Weeps by the Waters Edge, strengthens intuition that comes from the subconscious.

Tree Affirmation

“I follow intuition”

Guidelines for Tree Essence Use

Tree essences are the vibrational signature of the tree preserved in brandy. The liquid essences you can purchase premade are provided at “stock” level, meaning that they can be diluted by placing 3-7 drops (dilution suggestion varies from brand to brand) in a dosage bottle containing a 60/40 mixture of water (60%) and brandy (40%) and are traditionally taken by mouth, a few drops placed directly under the tongue or in a small glass of water. They can be taken directly from the stock bottle, being careful not to touch the dropper to your mouth. They can also be taken by placing a drop on pulse points (wrists, throat, neck, forehead, soles of the feet). A guideline for using the essences is 3 or 4 times a day.

Individual experiences with essences vary. Sometimes there may be a strong reaction, emotional or other. If this is uncomfortable, reduce or stop for a while. Essences can help you to realize the positive characteristics of the tree, making them available to you, encouraging self healing. They do not replace medical attention. If you have a health concern, please see a qualified practitioner.

Bibliography

Cruden, Loren. Medicine Grove a Shamanic Herbal, Rochester, Vermont: Destiny Books, 1997

Cymreas, Winter. Willow. Lewes, East Sussex, The Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids, 1994

Fergus, Charles. Trees of New England. Guilford, Connecticut: The Globe Pequot Press, 2005.

Gifford, Jane. The Celtic Wisdom of Trees. New York: Sterling Publishing Co., Inc., 2000

Glass- Koentop, Pattalee. Year of Moons Season of Trees. St. Paul, Minnesota: Llewellyn Publications, 1991.

Graham, Mark and Heather Buchan. The Celtic Tree Ogham. Milverton, Somerset: Capall Bann, 2006.

Hagender, Fred. The Meaning of Trees. San Francisco, CA : Chronicle Books LLC, 2005.

Kerr, Linda. The Hazel Nut. Auburn, AL., Faerie Faith Tradition, 1993

Kindred, Glennie. The Power of the Willow Tree. The White Dragon Magazine, 1997

Landis, James Clifford. The Faerie Faith and the Beth-Luis-Nion Celtic Lunar Calendar. Auburn, Alabama: Auburn University, 2002.

Laurie, Erynn Rowan. Ogham Weaving Word Wisdom. Stafford, UK: Megalithica Books, 2007.

Lilly, Simon and Sue. Green Man Essences Catalogue No 18. Exeter, Devon, 2008

Moorey, Teresa. The Magic and Mystery of the Trees. Milverton, Somerset: Capall Bann, 2006.

Mountfort, Paul Rhys. Ogham The Celtic Oracle of the Trees. Rochester, Vermont: Destiny Books, 2002.

Paterson, Helena. The Handbook of Celtic Astrology. St. Paul, Minnesota: Llewellyn Press, 1995.

Quarrie, Deanne. From the Branch a Primer in Dianic Witchcraft. Rockmart, Georgia: The Apple Branch Press, 2008.

Vega, Phyllis. Celtic Astrology. Franklin Lakes, NJ: The Career Press, Inc., 2002.

Change is Good by Angie Skelhorn

CHANGE IS GOOD

By Angie Skelhorn

Blood was revered for the miraculous power the red fluid possesses before the Roman invasion and Christianity.

Blood is identified with the soul, and is called the "river of life." Blood transports the vital energy of the universe through the body.

A woman's blood has been long considered the vehicle of her magic. The powerful magic that women have within can be passed to offspring 'in the blood'.

A few blood droplets burned on the flame can be part of a wise woman's dedication ritual. The tokening of blood is an ancient custom to indicate the seriousness of one's pledge to their faith. Blood is a powerful ingredient in love philters and charms. A minute quantity of the red fluid is said to catch the attention and excite a person's desires. Blood mixed in a man's food or drink supposedly will secure his commitment or cause impotency. In mythologies blood is drink for wisdom, fertility, regeneration, and immortality.

In a time gone by the church counsel feared what they didn't understand. Women who practiced the Earth Faith were constantly persecuted by Christian authorities. Women connected by blood, or cause, were faced with great adversity. Women were hunted down and executed. Women lost their lives for being women.

In order to neutralize or destroy a woman's magical powers they burned their blood in fires-hence the common European method of putting to death by burning at the stake. The practice, called blooding, was brutal.

Women were scored above the breath (cut between the mouth and nostrils) and allowed to bleed to death.

This must have been a period of anguish for women. They were not allowed to live among their families without some sort of shame during their menstrual cycles. I can't imagine the fear for women of all ages. What a crisis a girl would be in as she transitioned from child to adolescence. I'm sure most experienced emotional and psychological turmoil.

What an injustice to our female ancestors. What a hardship to endure. It is unbelievable to me that a celebrated passage of womanhood would turn a female's life upside down. How could one escape the danger and ridicule?

I am truly thankful for the change in attitude. I am lucky not to suffer like the women before me. I live in a country where a natural body function is not considered a threat.

Facts taken from-The Encyclopedia of Witches and Witchcraft Author-Rosemary Ellen Guiley

Author's bio: Angie is the fifth child born into a farming family. Her website-http://witchskel.weebly.com

Found Goddesses: Maiden Goddesses (Part 2) by Barbara Ardinger, Ph.D.

Buffy

Goddess of the Gym

Although Witches are said to be “large women in colorful clothing,” the true Inner Witch is a Buffed-Up Enchantress, a Woman Of Mighty Power who can step and stretch and pump and jiggle with the best of them.

All honor, therefore, to Buffy, Girl of the Golden Gym, vigorous Goddess of toned muscles and firm body. Buffy keeps our cardiovascular system revved up and ensures that the makers of leotards and athletic shoes will always have customers. Younger sister to Nike, Goddess of Victory Over Flab, She too exhorts us to “just do it.” Buffy is known for Her enthusiasm. “Go for the burn,” She cries from the front of the room. “No pain, no gain,” She reminds us as we stare into the mirror and wonder who that flushed and trembling woman facing us can possibly be.

All honor and glory to Buffy, whose highest priestess is Jane and whose highest priest is Richard. “Step, kick, bend. Stretch, stretch, stretch. Squeeze those buttocks, tuck that tummy in. Reach for the stars. Step, step, step. Faster, faster, faster!”

For pure vibrant energy and shining utilitarian luxury, Buffy’s Golden Gym rivals the healing temples of old. Let us follow our personal coach, Sadistica, as she gives us a mini tour.

“You start here,” Sadistica tells us as she leads us into the locker room. “Just go ahead and put your clothes in this locker, okay?” She pretends not to notice that our leotard is a bit stretched out and shabby. “The showers are over there, and … oh, yeah, the air conditioning works nearly all the time. Now walk this way.”

She leads us into a silent room filled with elaborate machines of devious torture. “This is the Weight Room,” she continues. “This is the place where the, you know, the Serious Bodybuilders hang? Let me introduce you to our two personal coaches, Testostero and Pheroman. These guys will pump you up so much! All you have to do is, you know, put yourself in their hands.”

Shuddering at the thought, we move on. “This is the Aerobics Room!” Sadistica has to shout over the disco music that makes the room and everything in it ripple with vigor. “Classes every hour on the hour! Stair training! Body parts specials! Endurance and discipline!”

Just as we’re succumbing to total deafness, she leads us into the sauna, where we see beautiful people sweating, then into the massage room, where we see another beautiful person being rubbed and poked and kneaded. “That’s Chirapsia,” our guide whispers. “She’s got the best hands in the world and she knows how to find every chi and nerve in your body.” The beautiful person on the table groans. “You won’t believe how you feel after she’s done working on you.”

We can’t help but agree. With a tiny sigh, Sadistica backs out, closes the door, and leads us to the lounge-snackshop-giftshop. “I just love it here,” Sadistica confesses. “I love the cute little tables and chairs, you know? The velvet pictures and license plate frames we have, you know, for sale? The smoothies and shakes and granola? But mostly I love the, you know, the people you can meet here. They’re all so fit. They’re so rad. So gorgeous. You can meet everyone you ever want to, you know, know here.”

Yes, indeed, it must be time to shape up. It must be time to meet new people. All honor and all that jazz to Buffy, Goddess of the Golden Gym, Goddess of the Buffed-Up Body, Goddess of Glorious Health.

Buffy rules!

Barbara Ardinger, Ph.D. (www.barbaraardinger.com), is the author of Pagan Every Day: Finding the Extraordinary in Our Ordinary Lives (RedWheel/Weiser, 2006), a unique daybook of daily meditations, stories, and activities. Her earlier books are Finding New Goddesses, Quicksilver Moon, Goddess Meditations, and Practicing the Presence of the Goddess. Her day job is freelance editing for people who don't want to embarrass themselves in print. Barbara lives in southern California. To purchase a signed copy of Finding New Goddesses, just send Barbara an email at bawriting@earthlink.net.

Happy Blood Day by Mut Danu

In the Dianic Tradition, the season of Beltane honors young women who have experienced their first blood. These first Red Moons mark the ongoing transformation from girl to woman. Every woman remembers that moment when she discovered the first drops of moon blood. But How does she remember it? How was this moment marked? What color was her world AFTER the arrival of her First Blood?

What if our mothers and grandmothers had grown up with a different Norman Rockwell painting on the cover of the Saturday Evening Post? This image might have shown Mom sitting at the head of the table, Dad bringing a beautifully decorated cake with red roses to the table, Brother waiting to dig in with his fork, and that instant of pride (Mom), happiness (Dad) and yearning (Brother) on their faces as the whole family looks up at Sister proudly displaying her panties, and the first spots of blood that mark her special day. Happy Blood Day!

I could ask a zillion rhetorical "what ifs?" about how things could have been different in our HIStorical past if women had been honored for the past few thousand years instead of oppressed, but it is really more valuable and worth our time to look at what might be, the HERstory that is in front of us. By this I mean literally in front of us, in the form of our daughters and sons, in the faces of our friends and the faces of strangers, and the face we see when we look in the mirror every morning.

Let's start with a wide view and then work our way inwards... Strangers. That is a word that means "everybody who is not 'us'". In a broader sense, stranger is the "environment" representing our feeling of separation from the natural world. A "stranger" is the other, the one who is different somehow in the way they look, customs, foods, language. "strange", "foreign". Living in another country for over ten years now, I know firsthand about "stranger". I found that by learning the language, tasting the food, appreciating the culture,and living and loving a "stranger"-- what was once exotic, and sometimes even strange, became familiar. Familiar, "of my family". I'm no longer a "stranger" to them, either, despite the American accent that strongly flavors my speech.

Bringing these thoughts back to our future Herstory, a challenge is before us. When we are out and about, at work, running errands, participating in the culture of our daily lives, how do we honor the women we do not know? Do we treat them as "strangers" or as "family"? During this season of Beltane, try to live up to this challenge as you go about your daily life. Be conscious of your words, gestures and speech when you speak with the shop clerk, neighbors, your children's friends, co-workers, women whose life paths cross your own. Go beyond tolerance of differences and learn to love the diversity around you. Expand your idea of family, to people who are part of the wider circle of life around you, and even farther to the planetary bio-system of which you are a part.

Spiral in closer as we talk about friends. Many times we speak of our friends and those of our children as "part of the family". So let's include our children and partners in the discussion. Those who are closest to us, we sometimes treat with the least respect. Sad but true. How many times have you seen someone yelling and smacking at their own children, then look up and speak ever so politely to the clerk at the cash register? I have found that offering compassion to the overwhelmed parent and a tickle to the wailing child can often diffuse the tension and show respect for both parent and child. Perhaps it can also give the adult a new perspective on honoring their child and their role as guide. Honoring each other means that in daily life, we take advantage of opportunities to give a hug, or to say "it's wonderful to be together", and to be interested and eager to discover the people in our most intimate circle. This is our opportunity to be a role model for young and old alike, to support, to inspire, to weave relationships between people, between private life and the life of the larger community.

And now, come in even closer; get intimately acquainted with that woman in the mirror. You probably have not thought of it in the same terms, but deep inside, every woman is a priestess who cares for a very personal sanctuary. She knows how it feels to be in a woman's body. In every fiber of her being and for the as long as she lives, she feels the joy, sadness, freedom and tension of this gift. But knowing and feeling does not always imply understanding. Our Moon Blood is a wonderful illustration of this.

Go back in time and remember the first time you bled as a woman. Try to immerse yourself completely in that one moment. Feel yourself in your adolescent body. See and smell the blood as you saw it then. Who did you tell first? What did you do next? What did your friends say? What did your mother say and do? Was the experience good, bad, a little of both? In your mind, find a beautiful red box and put these memories inside.

For many girls, the first blood is met with the medically approved, scientifically tested and proven practicality of how to use tampons or pads, to not let anything show, to not let anyone know, to cover up, to hide the...shhh (bl---d). For many other girls, the first introduction to their moon blood cycle is still "the curse", the malediction of being a woman is squarely placed on her shoulders along with being solely responsible for protecting herself from sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy, the monthly disabling discomfort of abdominal and perineal cramps and the smelly, messy, scary fact that she has to put her fingers "down there" and touch her own blood. The scientific approach, though maybe not as harmful on the surface as believing she is "cursed", hurts on another level. For from this perspective, the body of woman is no more than the sum of her parts and she must remain sterilized, pure, uncontaminated, completely separated from her body as a creation of nature. Neither of these perspectives sees the girl-becoming-woman as a time of transformation or a sacred passage that should be celebrated and honored.

At the most inner point of the spiral, we can reclaim that moment of First Blood. It does not matter if we are 21 years old or 51 or if we even have a uterus any more. By priestessing a ritual in the womb of our own sanctuary, we can create movement that will ripple outwards. We create the sacred passage for the girl-we-remember-being. Remember the beautiful red box you created in your mind, filled with memories of your First Blood, for better or for worse? You can make a real box. Mine is rather small, handmade and decoupaged with images of red roses in the form of a yoni. Butterflies flit here and there and the box is lined with a bit of red satin from an old bit of lingerie that I could not part with. Inside are my memories of the scientific-practical nature, the "curse" not being part of my own family heritage. Inside is a handmade clay image of Venus of Lascaux, holding her carved moon shell and colored with my own moon blood from monthly rituals designed to honor my own creative power. There is also a mirror inside, so that I never forget that respect, movement, creativity, begins from within and moves outward, to touch everything around us. We create Herstory, one woman at a time.

Make a beautiful box for yourself. Remember that even if your memories of your first adolescent Moon times are not good ones, that they are still precious as part of the experiences that have created the person you are. There is plenty of room in the box for new ways of experiencing, for evolution and transformation. Be sure to put a mirror in the box and to love and honor the woman you see there.

Wish her a Happy Blood Day!

Happy Beltane 2009,

Mut Danu, HPS

Mut Danu is a High Priestess of the Apple Branch, a Dianic Tradition and founder of La Branche du Pommier in France where she is an active member of the pagan community.

mutdanu@ymail.com

Mama Donna's Spirit Shop

Moon Schedule from Beltane to Litha by Dawn "Belladonna" Thomas

Moon Schedule from Beltane to Litha

By Dawn “Belladonna” Thomas

(Times are Eastern Time)

2^nd Quarter – May 2^nd 6:08 p.m.

Full “Flower” Moon – May 9^th 12:01 a.m.

4^th Quarter – May 17^th 3:26 a.m.

New Moon – May 24^th 8:11 a.m.

2^nd Quarter – May 30^th 11:22 p.m.

Full “Strong Sun” Moon – June 7^th 2:12 p.m.

4^th Quarter – June 15^th 6:14 p.m.

Moon Void of Course Schedule

Date Starts Ends

May 2^nd	5:08 p.m.	11:37 p.m.
May 4^th	8:31 p.m.	May 5^th 4:51 a.m.
May 7^th	5:00 a.m.	11:48 a.m.
May 9^th	1:48 p.m.	8:49 p.m.
May 12^th	12:55 a.m.	8:09 a.m.
May 14^th	7:58 p.m.	9:01 p.m.
May 17^th	5:40 a.m.	9:17 a.m.
May 19^th	4:43 p.m.	6:30 p.m.
May 21^st	5:36 p.m.	11:40 p.m.
May 23^rd	7:48 p.m.	May 24^th 1:34 a.m.
May 25^th	8:17 p.m.	May 26^th 1:58 a.m.
May 27^th	10:06 p.m.	May 28^th 2:44 a.m.
May 30^th	3:18 a.m.	5:17 a.m.

June 1^st	3:32 a.m.	10:17 a.m.
June 3^rd	1:00 p.m.	5:43 p.m.
June 5^th	9:18 p.m.	June 6^th 3:23 a.m.
June 8^th	8:51 a.m.	2:59 p.m.
June 10^th	10:31 p.m.	June 11^th 3:52 a.m.
June 13^th	4:04 p.m.	4:32 p.m.
June 15^th	8:17 p.m.	June 16^th 2:51 a.m.
June 18^th	4:35 a.m.	9:20 a.m.
June 20^th	7:02 a.m.	12:00 p.m.

Planting Days

May 8^th, 9^th, 12^th, 13^th, 17^th, 18^th, 19^th, 22^nd, 23^rd, 26^th, 27^th

June 4^th, 5^th, 9^th, 10^th, 14^th, 15^th, 18^th, 19^th, 20^th

Harvesting Days

May 10^th, 11^th, 15^th, 16^th, 20^th, 21^st, 24^th

June 11^th, 12^th, 13^th, 16^th, 17^th, 21^st

My visit to a Witches House by Polycordia

Seriously, it was almost up on chicken's feet.

Louise and I always butt heads at the info shop. She usually only comes in once a month for the really, really free market, and she brings bags of cotton balls and other odds and ends with her. She is an old woman from Upper Arlington who always complains about everything. She acts as if I am her girl there to serve her. She also claims to have multiple chemical sensitivity, so she is always drawing our attention to chemicals in our immediate environment. I think this is generally positive, since I think chemicals are pretty bad for everybody, not just people who think they have this disorder.

Once I acted like I was going to kick her out of the shop because she wouldn't stop complaining. I came in the shop to open right at 2pm with my arms laden full of food for Food Not Bombs. I had been up early working with the food and cooking the big meal, and was still carrying things in when she complained that the sign wasn't flipped so people wouldn't know the shop was open. I had been there about two minutes and was still setting up, and she started in grouchily. I told her she would have to stop complaining or she would have to leave, and that she was welcome to try to fix the problem herself, but that she was not allowed to just complain.

That was last month. This month I tried to be civil, and things went pretty well during my volunteer shift. It was a struggle this week to get food together for FNB, but we all managed to pot luck it and had enough food for Fred and the other bums, and the activists to eat. Now Fred, the grumpiest bum, and Louise, the hag from UA, started to butt heads and Fred threatened to jack Louise up and rob her. Fred is generally pretty civil and he always thanks me for cooking for him. I think he has been on the street a long time. But we all have our moments, and no wonder Louise pissed him off. My general reaction to her is that I would want to punch her in the face when she starts, but I am not a physical person like that and would only resort to verbal argumentation.

I had to lock Fred out of the shop, and since it was sort of cold and wet out, he eventually decided to go home to his squat or bando. Louise always needs a ride home, and complains that we haven't devised some transportation system to pick her crazy ass up from the suburbs. I told her that most of us hardly ever drive, that we ride our bikes. She is so old though, that I think she just has another one of the old ladies from her neighborhood drive her to see us. I offered to drive her home, since I did have my car and since Fred had threatened to wait for her outside, jack her up, rob her, call the cops on her, follow her home and burn her house down with her in it. He's done it before, he declared. Oh good lord. I told him we like having him around but that if he did physical violence to anyone at the shop he would not be allowed to come back, and that that would be a real shame because we like having him around. No kidding. Well, he's very old and feeble, has had a rough life and needs a lot of care. So there.

I drove Louise home, and Marco came with me, probably to help diffuse the situation in case Louise pissed me off and I wanted to fight her. Louise wanted to tell us all about her plants because we are starting a community garden near the infoshop, the Arawak City Gardens. She showed us her gnarly trees in the front yard, and her garlic bobbles. We entered her house through the garage, and inside there were piles of plant matter. We went into her mudroom between the garage and her kitchen and it smelled like... the most lush forest I had ever smelled- like pure nature, outside and unpolluted. It was a beautiful earthy brown smell, alive and dead and decomposing, growing and bacterial and circular.

Unsurprisingly, Louise washes and saves all of her trash. It is organized and sorted into piles. She is a packrat- her house is filled with junk and debris in every corner. Where there isn't trash, there are growing plants, piles of leaves and grasses, and some of the art she has woven out of found objects. I told her we should have an art show for her at the SPORE, showcasing her woven pieces. She has some featuring tarantula skins encased in plastic and framed with woven fibers. Another art piece she showed me was the model of the triple eclipse and the three minor eclipses from the Dark Crystal. She had a couple of big woven pieces that looked like great wasps nests.

She got some plant cuttings and seeds for me and Mark. She acted like some of the seeds she had would be destroyed by the authorities if they were discovered, so she gave them to me. They were pumpkin seeds, some heirloom variety, but not like pot or a hallucinogen or anything to get you high. Just an odd variety of pumpkin seeds. Who knows maybe they are somehow magical.

She led us to the upstairs of her cluttered house to get more plant cuttings. The room we went to had windows on three walls and had been completely re-wilded. It reminded me of some primitivist anti-civ kids I met one time. Maybe this is what they were talking about. The room was like a swamp, a mucky forested room. There were piles of leaves and grasses piled up against the walls. In the middle of the room she had constructed a pond out of plastic containers, and some water plants she called lilies were rooting there in the water, crawling out onto the carpet. The three of us chatted for a while. She was excited to have company, and she told us about the plants she was growing, how some of them were chimeras, meaning they had the cells of two kinds of plants in them but they were not hybrids. This reminded me of chimeras in mythology, like the Pegasus, mermaids, centaurs, and the griffin. Totally magical and trippy. I think George W. Bush may also have made a public statement against chimeras, which had more to do with cloning and stem cell research. I joked that his worst nightmare was a push-me pull-you unicorn Pegasus centaur. I often drew this creature on my friends as a marker tattoo.

As I was crouching down looking at the plants, I glanced down next to me, and sitting in the dirt in the middle of some plants was a big hairy tarantula! I screamed just a bit and we both jumped, me and the tarantula. I was scared for about 5 seconds, until I remembered that the creatures are generally not that aggressive or dangerous, and it didn't seem to be very interested in biting me. So I just looked at it, and yeah, Louise said that she had had a few tarantulas in cages but they all died except for the one that got loose in her house and it survived because it could follow the air currents of the temperatures that were good for it. She said that once she found out it was alive in the house, she bought it a mate. I don't know if the male was still around, but she said if there were babies she would take them to a reptile show, because they also like tarantulas at the reptile show.

Shortly after seeing the tarantula, it was time to go. I had had a long day cooking and feeding bums, activists and other wing nuts, and felt about to crash. Mark helped me make a graceful exit. On the way home I reflected that I probably just hate Louise because we are so much alike, and maybe one day I will be as crazy as she is and totally rewild my whole entire house. Even though she is a crazy wing nut, I respect her because she is a free actor who is doing whatever the hell she feels like, and she has the liberty to be different. I respect Louise in all her craziness much more than people who just let them be oppressed. She is a squeaky wheel who makes a lot of noise, and some of her complaints earlier in the year actually led to food not bombs being served on Sundays at the infoshop. I sure can't stand her, but her fighting spirit motivates us in one way or another, and I am sort of glad that she is among the eccentric folks we attract and give home to at the infoshop.

Polycordia, from Arawak City, Ohio is a SPORE infoshop volunteer and cooks for Arawak City food not bombs.

The Country Kitchen by Angie Skelhorn

The country kitchen at my mom and dad's is rich with memories and traditions. Oak handcrafted cupboards, built and fastened to the wall by my uncle, flooring laid by my brothers, and inexpensively decorated to add a splash of color, compliments of my two older sisters.

The childhood memory I hold dear is my mom being a mom. The same old daily routine for some is a labor of love for her. As a young child in grade school, before the sun shone, my mom's authoritative voice could be heard as she announced an early call to rise. One by one, my brothers, sisters and I would wake from a deep sleep. In a room built for six, eight pile in.

The first thing the eye is drawn to in the kitchen is the walnut table and chairs that match. My dad, seated at the head of the table in his familiar place, served first, he eats his poached eggs on toast. His large puffy fingers peek out from behind the morning news paper. Joyful chaos erupts as my brothers, sisters and I compete for elbow room. We blurt out demands not wanting to play second fiddle to the other.

My mom can think and do! Highly skilled, she moves through the minefield to meet our needs. She moves from fridge, stove, table and sink, but never in that order. Multitasking, my mom is attentive to each of our individual wants. Then, with a hug, she files us out the door together to catch the school bus.

The table has changed and the years show on my mom's face and once raven hair, but I can still find her in her country kitchen. I take a seat beside her. A child in her eyes, she quickly reacts to solve whatever the problem. Always loving, kind and true, she gives hope all will be better.

Author's bio: Angie is the fifth child born into a farming family. Her website-http://witchskel.weebly.com

The Mystery of Our Blood by Bendis

As girls growing up, our life experiences affect our feelings about our bodies. Sadly, many of us had to deal with frightening and traumatic events which cast dark shadows of what should be joyful and celebrated moments.

When I was six years old, my sixteen-year-old baby sitter exposed himself to me. I had never seen a fully erect penis. What six-year-old has? He wanted me to touch that thing! I was so grossed out; the repulsion lasted for years. From then on, because of the revulsion I felt from that experience, I was not able to discuss anything that had to do with my body or sex. The questions most kids ask – I never asked – never. I did let my parents know what had happened and we sent that boy off never to be seen again. However, for some reason, conversation with my mother about things that should have been talked about just did not happen.

When I was ten, my bus driver sexually molested me. On top of already existing bad memories, my body had now been violated. Again, I reported it to my parents and I am sure they did the right thing. I honestly do not remember; much more was going on inside with my emotions. I think my mother must have realized at that point that she never had that "mother- daughter" talk about the birds and bees. I am sure she felt some guilt for that oversight and I know I held some responsibility for that, as I had not asked either. But then, I was a child. To make up the years of silence my mother told me everything in one sitting. From ovum and sperm, to sexual intercourse and menstruation – she told me all of it. All, while I was in total trauma for having had that gross man’s fingers in my vagina. As a result, I shut down even more.

I was late having my first period – not until I was almost 14. When it did start, I knew what it was but my feelings of disgust and shame for my own body were so mortifying I could not tell anyone. That first period really was only spotting – I never had a “flow” but it lasted for 18 days while I did the best I could with toilet paper to keep my clothes clean and to keep anyone from knowing. Eventually the toilet paper did not work and I spotted on my bed sheets. My mother came to me immediately and was so upset that I had not told her. I did not have an answer as to why I had not told her because I did not really understand myself. I cried – she cried – she gave me some pads and a belt (ye gads, pads and a belt – yes, it was that long ago). Not having any understanding herself of the beauty of why we bleed, she gave me nothing other than methods by which to cope. It did nothing to help me welcome the changes in my body.

When I think about it now, I feel deprived of something that could have been wonderful. They called me the ice queen in high school because I would not let anyone touch me. Bless the Goddess I discovered that I was a passionate women who enjoyed all aspects of sex, able to give and receive fully. I relished all things about being a woman, conceiving and birthing my children with ease. Every month I was so ill I had to go to bed. I almost hemorrhaged each time, passed huge clots, and dealt with waves of nausea and diarrhea with almost unbearable cramps. At the age of 43 I had a hysterectomy and ignorantly, felt blessed by the occasion.

I will never know if my experiences with my moontimes were negative because of what happened to me in childhood. I will never know if it would have made a difference if my mother and I had celebrated the wonderful occasion of my first blood. I know that it matters to me now and it has mattered to me since I found the Goddess and my family of women. Sometimes I feel robbed. I had already had my hysterectomy when Goddess came into my life. I believe that sense of loss greatly contributed to what motivated me to become a priestess and to serve the community of women.

It is so important that we share the Mystery of our Blood with our daughters and with our granddaughters. When my daughters bled for the first time, while we did not have the kind of ceremony I would have now, we did celebrate. It was a BIG DEAL! There were no surprises for them when it came to their bodies. They knew what love, sex, joy and menstruation were. In our home talking about our bodies, about menstruation and about sex were as natural as talking about “what’s for dinner.”

My oldest granddaughter and I had a private party. She spent the night. I gifted her with red beads, lacy red underwear and a beautiful red velvet box to keep special memories in. I shared stories of strong women with her and we marked our faces with “warrior marks!”

I know it matters. I know we must reawaken in our daughters the celebration of our bleeding times. We must make it possible for them to see that our red blood is a gift, a gift given only to women. It is a gift that we, as women, all share – the red blood of life. The Goddess Blesses Her Women.

Blessed Be,

Bendis