It’s been a while since my last post. I’ve been, granted, pretty busy - working, mostly, extra shifts, extra hours… And on my days off, I’ve been busy, too. You see, we [meaning, my parents, really] have a buyer for our farm on the line, and he’s very interested. But he wants my house, too - and of course, if that’s what it takes to sell the farm, by god, we’re selling my house with it. The farm’s been on the market for 4 years and hasn’t sold yet. Now it’s very nearly a completed deal.

But. (There’s always a catch, isn’t there?) The deal hinges upon an appraisal meeting the value of the offer. This guy who wants it? He’s kind of… odd. Richer than sin, 65, wanted to farm all his life, already purchased a farm neighboring ours, just sold a 1.2 million dollar house… And he says if the appraisal doesn’t meet his offer, he’s walking away. No renegotiating, no lowering his offer. He’s just walking away.

Hello pins, hello needles, let’s sit down for a while.

My future rests largely on this sale - if we sell the farm, we can probably buy a place in Billings for me to live, and I may not have to take up begging for alms on the street corners and making friends with the local soup kitchens, you know? Because rent for a single person is expensive. And I’m looking at a thin budget. Too thin, with the price of food, gas, and energy these days. Much too thin. Having a rent-free place would do a lot for me - even with the super expensive utility bills a good sized house would bring, it still won’t cost as much as renting an apartment and paying utility bills. Besides, rentals have one other problem - my cats. I now have three of them, through no fault of my own (I’ll fess up, though, and admit that if I hadn’t inherited my Persian, I may well have picked up another cat somewhere anyway.), and you just can’t find rentals that allow three cats. I’m having trouble finding more than 2 or 3 places that allow ANY pets. And I’m of the belief that you don’t just discard your animals when it’s inconvenient - there are responsibilities that come with owning pets, and looking after them for life is one of them.

The chickens are another matter - they’re not pets, they’re not attached, hell, I’d like to eat some of them. Well, probably not. The ones I’d like to “eat” are the small ones that wouldn’t make for good eating, so nevermind. But livestock is different. Though I’d like to take a few chickens with me, too. Or at least continue to raise chickens. But that is likely not gonna be possible. Still, they might go with the farm, so that problem is taken care of, too! Evidently, the potential buyer’s wife likes chickens! At least, she likes them enough to have a chicken-themed kitchen. Who knows if she’d actually like the real monsters?

So. Anyway. The point of all this rambling is that I am Stressed Out. And if there was ever a time to need a little magic, to need a good energy push for things to end up in the right direction, now is it. I got the basics of the ritual from a book called Grimoire for the Green Witch by Ann Moura, which is one of my favorite references. It’s not Wiccan, exactly, but it’s Wiccan inspired - but I still like it. I like her style. I don’t remember which ritual inspired me, but it was one of the money spells. And of course, it involved a green candle.

Let me just say that I love candle magic. There is nothing more magical to me than candles, except perhaps a waterfall, or an ocean, or the moon. Okay, well, nature itself. But fire. Fire is magic to me. I chose a green candle - a slender chime candle, not a big green one like I pictured. I don’t have a big green one, even a green votive right now, or I would’ve used that. I anointed it in the Blue Moon Water I created last October. It’s the most powerful holy water I have, and I needed a good boost of power. I carved runes in it for prosperity and success. I mixed herbs together, herbs with the same properties - prosperity, success. I burned patchouli incense [as an aside, I didn’t know how much I liked that until I burned it!] for prosperity as well, and set my green candle in a small cauldron.

I lit the candles - my working altar candle, bit and white and fat and symbolizing the divine, and a couple small tea lights for illumination. I laid out a couple oracle cards indicating my intent - security and prosperity and business success. And I visualized what I wanted - the sale of the farm, the deal going through, the purchase of the properties we wanted to buy. When I could see exactly what I wanted, I lit the green candle, and watched it burn. I sprinkled the herbs into the cauldron with it, over the flame. A little reckless, but I liked seeing the sparks. [I didn’t like accidentally melting an herb to my thumb, which was sort of painful, and will be remembered in the future as something Not To Do.]

Then… I walked away. That’s the beauty of candle magic - once that image and intent and power is fused in the candle, your work is done. The candle does the rest. With chime candles, I just let it burn down to a stub. It took an hour, about, perhaps a little more or less. I went on with my morning (it was dawn by then), listened to good celtic music and danced off all the excess energy, and greeted the day. When the candle was just a stub, I blew it out - god forbid I catch all the herbs on fire, haha, wouldn’t that make for an exciting morning? - and let the remaining wax cool. To finish up, I took the wax and herbs and the remains of my incense outside and buried it in my garden.

It was a good ritual.

But I still had an emotional breakdown two days later, and tonight, if I can manage it, I’m going to do another ritual - one to let go of all these doubts and fears of mine so I can move on when the time comes. I’m not normally so terrified of change, but this is a big step, like selling off a piece of my childhood, a symbol of home and security. Who wouldn’t need a little grounding, a little healing, after that?

[As a side note: I got my blocking wires from KnitPicks, so I can block my Loopy Ewe swap partner’s gift at LAST and get pictures soon! And I finished R’s socks. And I’m making a dishcloth for a coworker! Yay, knitting!]

We’ll see. At any rate, I’m quite happy to just have the swap project off the needles so I can work on something else!

Four years ago, at the beginning of summer 2004, I sat alone in an expensive, soon-to-be-stifling-hot apartment, and searched endlessly for a job in an economy that had just flushed the toilet. I was miserable - hungry, depressed, alone, broke, and struggling with the faith I’d lost several years before. I had no support - my family was out of sight and out of mine, my best friend had moved away months before and refused to so much as drop a postcard with her phone number on it in the mail, my other closest friend was caught up deep in drama with new roommates, and though I lived in a decent sized city, I was too damned shy, miserable, and out of gas to meet anyone new.

My faith in the Christian God had long since abandoned me - or perhaps I had abandoned it. Truthfully, I could no longer reconcile the ‘truths’ of the Bible with either science or my own conscience. It had been a long dark path - five years or more - and it was long past time for God to shine some light on my struggles, to aid me, to guide me, but that light never came.

Four years ago, I was bitter at the world, and the people in it. Everything had changed in the years before. I had changed. My eyes had been opened to worlds and faiths and ideas and ideologies far removed from the safe, comfortable, conservative Christian upbringing I’d been raised in. I had attended one of the most liberal, hippie colleges in the United States - and what an education. My entire world was changed as I met person upon person who didn’t follow the ‘traditional’ path through life.

I met a lovely lesbian Wiccan who worshipped Hera - oh, the shock! Did she really worship some ancient Greek goddess? - and an atheist who “loved Christians” because they were generous at their campus meetings with ice cream and pot lucks. I met women who didn’t shave their legs - or their pits! - and men who wore dresses. I met vegans and vegetarians and people who thought McDonalds was Seriously Evil. I met protesters and Bush-Haters and gay rights activists and feminazis who thought men were Serious Evil. I met artists and writers and singers and poets.

My worldview was forever changed. My world was forever changed just for being there. I never graduated, and I wasn’t the best student by far - but the education I got about life was worth every penny I paid (and every penny I’m still paying).

But four years ago, I was still in the midst of all this change - I was still reeling from it, still fitting the pieces I’d gathered together, still struggling to decide who I was, and what I wanted to become, and what it all meant. What was life about? What was the point of it all? What did I believe, and who the hell should I vote for come November, anyway?

Four years ago, I started proceedings for a divorce. Not a marital divorce, but a spiritual one. Slowly, I was cutting myself away from the trappings of my old beliefs and habits and anxieties, shedding my old skin to make room for new. It started with intolerance, and the accepting of a new code of ethics that begins with: If it harms none, do what you will. This is, granted, a rather Wiccan statement, but it’s a central truth, the core of my beliefs. If it hurts no one, it’s okay. As for the rest - things that may cause harm, things that could hurt - there are other rules, other shades of circumstance and morality to weigh before you make decisions about them. But if it hurts no one, why get worked up? If it hurts no one, it should be free and unrestricted.

With that new code in place, and other personal ethics becoming clearer every day the more I read and thought and interacted with people, the closer I came to understanding myself. And the closer I came to understanding who I was, the more I understood where I wanted to go, and what I wanted to do, and what my life - what life in general - was about. And the more I understood that, the more comfortable I became. Depression and angst began to fall away. Self-reliance and confidence rose. I began to live and let live. I stopped trying to change the people around me - and started to just live life… for me. Not for them. Not because of them. But for and because of me.

In four years, I’ve learned to take just about everything with a sprinkling or more of salt. I’ve learned to be a skeptic, to be critical, to be choosy about the things I let into my life. I’ve matured and learned so much… and yet, I’m still a babe in the cradle in this ancient universe. I’ve changed in almost every way, and I still have a long way to go.

In four years, I’ll be 30 years old. In four years, I’ll have evolved all over again - maybe into just an older and wiser version of the woman I am today, my ideas refined, my beliefs strengthened, my path in life clearer… or maybe I’ll have evolved into someone I wouldn’t recognize if I passed her on the street today. Who knows?

But it’ll be a fascinating journey, nonetheless.

Also, coming up on halfway through a Very Long Week at work. I’ve worked three 12-hour shifts in a row, and have two more to go before I go back to working regular 8-hour days. Yes, that’s right. Five 12-hour shifts in a row, and then I don’t even get any days off for another two days. And all this after getting only one day off before it began . That’s the day in which I spent doing laundry like mad, and making The Most Horrible Swedish Meatballs Ever, otherwise known as Swedish Allspice Balls, because that’s what they tasted like. Allspice - and lots of it. Gah. (It wasn’t my fault, to be fair - the recipe demanded that much allspice, and like an imbecile, I just didn’t question it.) So instead of eating tons of yummy meatballs all week while I have no time to cook, I’m eating Hamburger Freaking Helper, greasy potato chips, and bar pizza. Urgh. Not exactly food to fuel you for a week of hellish hours.

Luckily, all the tons of overtime should make up for it. Here’s hoping.

In the meantime, to kill sometime at work, when the hours get really really long, I’ve been hunting down podcasts and listening to them. So far, Faerie Knitting is my favorite. Go have yourself a little fairy tale now. Enjoy.

By the time she left, one week later, Katia drank tea every day, too, having swiftly been addicted to this non-coffee caffeinated drink just like ‘that’.

So… I swapped some tea on Ravelry, and got a whole random assortment of teas I’d never before tried, but along with a few bags of one of my all-time favorites, Tazo Awake. Awake is a wonderful blend of black teas, strong and smoky and powerful enough to keep me going all night long, and what’s more, it comes in the most quaint little colorful red bags. It’s very nice.

But also, I got a whole variety of Stash teas, including Irish Breakfast (which I’m drinking tonight), English Breakfast, Double Chai Spice, Chai Spice (I drink this one a fair amount), Peach Black Tea, and some others which also look good! Also, I got some tea from SBS Teas - Cranberry Orange Spice, which sounds and smells intruiging. And some tea from Trader Joes, and a packet of rooibos from somewhere that starts with a K, but is eluding my mind. Lovely!

In return, I sent off a bunch of fun teas also, and some cute little stickers and chocolates, to a lovely lady up in Canada.

And now? Now I’ve joined an Iced Tea Summer Solstice Swap. Er. Or Summer Solstice Iced Tea Swap. Whatever. But it’s more tea to swap and enjoy, and this time, there’s GOODIES involved - like summer things, and yarn, because it’s Ravelry. Gotta love the yarn…

But for now? I’m off to Adagio, because I’m nearly out of one of my other super-favorite teas, strawberry black, and that just cannot be allowed. Again, if anyone wants a $5 off coupon to Adagio, and you don’t already have an account there, just let me know, and I can send you one! :)

So instead, you get to hear about the other things I’m up to in my life.

A long long time ago, in a galaxy far away… Wait, wrong script.

A long long time ago, like, say, four years ago, I used to have this awesome hobby of penpalling and swapping (things, in the mail) and postcard trading and other things. Then A came to town, and suddenly, I had a REAL LIVE FRIEND IN THE FLESH and I eventually abandoned all that other stuff. Well, that, and I got a full time job, working nights, and life just changed in general.

But I’ve done penpalling on and off for years… many years, and I missed it. So finally, I’m getting back into the swing of things. I posted a little ad on Ravelry (knitting forums, for those uncool people not in the know), and whammo, 5-6 people contacted me within two days. I rock, man. And so do they. :) So not only am I getting penpals? I’m getting KNITTING penpals. That is totally freaking awesome.

Still, I think penpalling with people you’ve met and converse with on the internet is going to be an interesting experience. A) everyone has blogs, and b) email and instant messaging and private messaging is quick and… instant. But there’s something about a handwritten letter on paper (or heck, even a typewritten letter on paper) sent through the mail that makes all the extra time and expense and wait worthwhile. It’ll be nice to expect things in the mail once in a while that aren’t bills, magazines, or packages I ordered myself.

Appetizer

When someone smiles at you, do you smile back? Yes, in general. Not always. Sometimes, I flat out ignore them, though, depending on how obnoxious they are, and how obnoxious I’m feeling.

Soup

Describe the flooring in your home. Do you have carpet, hardwood, vinyl, a mix? 100% carpet. Even the kitchen and bathrooms. Ewww. Shag carpet in the back bedroom. Flat industrial shit in the kitchen, hallways, dining room, one bathroom, and ‘front room’. Regular ugly stuff in the living room, master bedroom, and one bathroom. Gugh. Hate carpet. Hate. Especially all the ugly stuff I have. Puke yellow shag. Purple industrial. Pinkish beige regular stuff. Blech. My grandmother’s style sucks.

Salad

Write a sentence with only 5 words, but all of the words have to start with the first letter of your first name. … with K? Jesus. Kill me. Keep kamikaze kangaroos kissing kittens. Hey, give me a break, there’s only a handful of K-words in the entire English language!

Main Course

Do you know anyone whose life has been touched by adoption? Yep. I know a family who took in three foster kids and adopted them all. Along with their three biological children, they now have a family of six kids whose name all start with T, ages ranging from 26 to 6. (Maybe 5?) I was there for the formal adoption of one of those girls, and we went to the adoption party afterward. And also saw another little foster boy I babysat about to be adopted by a new family, too!

Dessert

Name 2 blue things. Uh, the sky. And water. I’m feeling nature-y today. Especially since it rained all day yesterday, which is awesome, because we’ve had like, NO MOISTURE WHATSOEVER this entire year. Nice! We needed the rain so bad!

In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve been living with a roomie for a while, and it’s been an adventure. Good friend roomie probably has a similar list of “Reasons not to live in your friend’s house” list, which would probably include things like: “Roomies nag CONSTANTLY about things they doesn’t do themselves, like rinsing one’s dishes.” Me and A don’t live well together - after many years of doing just that, we’ve learned our lesson, but when a girl’s got sewer problems, a girl’s got sewer problems, you know? And what’s a good friend to do but take in a roomie until it’s fixed?

However, she oughta be leaving today, which makes me happy, and probably her, too - I’m sure she’s dying to get away from my naggy, annoying ass just as much as I’m ready to get rid of her. Still, it’s gonna be a bit strange. Two weeks of having another body in the house to talk to will make for an odd transition to that sudden aloneness.

Still, how do married people DO IT?

While I’m bitching, let me just say that I’d been suffering some odd hand aches, but that, too, is disappearing, thank the gods. So, with life finally getting back on track, I’ve started to knit again (that was generally on hold due to the severe craptasticness I felt - knitting while feeling tired, crappy, sniffly, and/or achy is nothing but a recipe for disaster over here) and finished a new kitty hat and the first of my bright daffodil colored entrelac socks (pictures coming soon).

All going well, right?

Not so fast, cowgirl. My brother, 23, is depressed - suicidally so - and my mother is stressed out beyond stressed out. My cat had urinary tract infection and requires a second trip to the vet sometime soonish so they can check his urine again to see how the disgusting and horribly expensive special food they put him on is working. A close friend is having a personal crisis (to say the least!) and we were just hit by a sudden snowstorm - the *only* such snowstorm to hit this winter, really, except for a small one that hit while I was away.

On top of all that, in the last seven days, I have broken three dishes, destroyed a perfectly good breakfast, and had some delicious hot cocoa that was (much to my horror, as I spit out something odd feeling during those first few sips) INFESTED WITH BUGS.

Nothing like a little insect larvae in your mouth to fucking ruin your day already. And there’s a photo, for ye who told me you’d never seen these horrendous things. It’s a large photo - the real thing is much smaller, but no less disgusting to eat.

Now tell me… who the hell have I pissed off, and how many chickens should I sacrifice to get rid of this curse?