Nullification Part 8

Copyright 2017 Evelyn Zinn.
All rights reserved.

In the ten years since the Great Nullification as it was so unimaginatively called by the communities at large, various enterprises fell apart across the globe. Hotels, old abandoned mental hospitals, restaurants, churches, etc reported lessening’s in the hauntings every year until about three years afterwards they reported zero activity. Old war battlegrounds ceased to be places were the dead wandered in vain. Places of atrocities held only the plaques and stories now. For the first time in several hundred years our world’s Spirit boundary was clear and rejuvenated.

I couldn’t have been more pleased. For a long time, spirits had been called to dance on demand but only the Gods of Old and New knew for how long exactly. Most people now after six or seven years only rolled their eyes at the psychics and the palm readers. To go talk to one of them was now purely for entertainment.

The awakening of many coma patients happened as well. Several described it as though they had been trapped and then a path, an epic journey that had brought them back. Some of them had even gone to write these journeys down and they truly are epic stories. Many though accepted the choice to finally be able to let go and move on.

And that thing my grandfather asked for? Well, that was making the path clear to find the one you hoped to after reaching the Spirit World. The last time I saw him, was a very clear vision of him finally being able to stay with Grandmother permanently and watching them move to the Beyond.

Many practitioner’s say it was like walking a giant dump for several years but soon it became the focus of many to clean up the place. Most I think mistakenly thought if they cared for the grounds the Spirits would come back. These days there are rather lovely gardens and small houses with no one in them. I still look around there at times and wonder why it had come to this to get them to take care of this place.

Most would never know. The Spirit world was once again now what it was in the distant past. Merely a place of roads and paths to the Beyond.  What was the Beyond? Whatever the person choose. However the Spirits…were never coming back. Now one had to pull from the well that was inside themselves.

However, there had formed a new order since. Guardians for a lack of a better word. During the clean ups, many found horrible traps that had been laid years, decades, centuries ago by the greedy and the power hungry. Traps that sealed spirits of myth and humans alike. Many of the Guardians had been those who found these traps and bore the scares in the real world of having seemed to age a few years over night.

Ours was a thankless work. We kept an eye to ensure no more traps, no more quicksands, no more lost ones. We lead from the shadows if only to keep the majority distracted from the sins of our collective pasts and families lines.  We all knew, those of us who walked this world in our dreams it would be a hard battle. To punish those who would seek an old entrapment meant dealing with them in the real world. That had to be subtle as well. The agreed on prediction was that we’d be able to keep it empty and clean and safe for those Passing on…but most likely only for a couple of centuries.

As for Maxine, myself, Rosscoe and Marcus in the real world not much changed. Maxine decided after her circle finally dissolved that it was time to treat herself. She took the kids and the grandkids on a Disney Cruise. Two of them back to back. One on the Atlantic and on the Pacific. Then her and Rosscoe went to Japan for two months and then South Korea and I think you get the picture. Her and Rosscoe traveled together for a good three or four years. Then Rosscoe came back and co-managed the store with me while Maxine just kept on exploring.

Marcus moved back to his home city and built a new business with his family, one that relied on the skill of storytelling. They tell the tales of old hauntings and speak a blessing to an unknown cause for things finally quieting down so that the living can live.

Me? I still live out on the property though these days with a proper farmhouse. Maxine let me do with what I wish with the place and because of it’s connection to the store (which is going as strong as ever) I started branching out a little bit. Maxine wasn’t happy about the news of the Alpaca herd but it’s been four years. I think she’s forgiven me by now. The workshop was ever busy and in the past couple of years, two apprentices joined me at the property, grandkids of Maxine.

We were ever kept busy now with mundane things now that the Spirit world no longer needed constant curtailing and tending. It was a wonderful thing really. The peace and quiet was a joy that many didn’t realize they had needed.

I was spending Halloween as I did every since then, quietly and out on the porch with a spinning wheel. With it, I could see everyone and how they were doing. Today I was checking on Maxine. She was hanging out in an old cafe somewhere and writing furiously on her laptop. She had take to travel blogging and was happier than a clam.

She paused for a moment and looked straight at me, winked and went back to work.

Yeap. Same old, same old.

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Nullification part 7

Copyright 2017 Evelyn Zinn.
All rights reserved.

The lake I chose was way out in deep countryside. Most of the roads to it were primitive roads and in the winter time were off limits to non-appropriate vehicles. I arrived two days before the solstice.  There was no one else out here.  I was alone and in two feet of snow. There was a very specific way that the fires had to be laid out and set up to catch fire by a mechanism controlled from the shore. This was the piece my dad had for me. A way to safely be off the ice.

It was eerie out here. There was no wind, no winter birdsong just cold crackling silence. I had to bring the firewood with because of the snow. It took most of the two days and almost all of Winter Solstice to get everything set up. The bowl had been set dead center. I had taken a rope and made a perfect circle around it so as to be able to place the firewood and journals as perfectly as possible so that they would crack the ice and send it all to the bottom.

Part of the work was just getting enough tinder and kindling ready. My mind wandered many times during this process back to the conversation my father and I had had. Apparently my mother had tried to rekindle the relationship with him but he wasn’t having any of it. He’d found a woman who loved many of the same things he did and had introduced him to a few new hobbies. Yes my father was a craft monkey just like me.

I showed him the chest, the shelves, the entire workshop that had sprung up over the course of this. He nodded approvingly and had told me to be expect a 3D printer to arrive in the springtime some time. I could use to start making things for the store on order instead of ordering online and waiting for it to ship and arrive.

I had everything except the kindling and tinder on the woodpiles. The wind had picked up for several hours on the day of the Solstice and I watched it from my truck camper anxiously. It looked as though the weather had decided to intervene but just in the last hour that I had left, the wind died to a standstill. I’d never mastered ice running quite like I did that night or have I since. I still busted my butt at least once getting back to shore, but didn’t hesitant to hit the switch.

With a pop twenty six piles of wood sparked and ignited. The gasoline soaked pages aided.  I sat down on the shore and watched, singing the song my grandfather had told me to sing. After what only seemed a few minutes the fires broke into an almost perfect circle through the ice and the piece flipped over, the bowl sliding in the dark waters below.

I watched the cracks radiate in all directions and glanced at the night time sky. The stars seemed brighter and clearer for some reason.

The next morning found me packing camp quicker than I wanted to. We had another blizzard bearing down on us and I made it back home with ten minutes before it hit to spare. Maxine ordered me into the tub before I could even speak and had a hot meal ready for me once I was out.

I told about how it went all down and she smiled at me then gestured towards her spinning wheel.

“How long will it take for everything to complete?”

“Once the clay has dissolved in the water, it’ll take three years for everything to come to fruition and wrap itself up. Nice and gentle and no one will be able to ever trace that magic back to me.”

“Will it be enough?”

“Only time will tell.”

“Time.  Time is one thing that has both hindered us and aided us.”

“At least it didn’t betray us with this.”

“That leaves the last journal.”

“I don’t think so. See the person who took it I narrowed down to two individuals. One of them has vanished completely the other is so far down on their luck that I think they’re a homeless person in Denver now. Either way, we don’t have to worry about them or that journal. I’m fairly certain it’s been lost, destroyed or used for joint wrappings. Either way, it’s not a concern we should be having.”

Maxine sat back down at the spinning wheel and began to finish the bobbin.

“What about the workshop?”

“Keep it. Keep making things with it. The store now has it’s own craftmans shop.”

Maxine started laughing.

“Yes, yes that it is a good use for it. We put it together to save our cousins in magic and we shall continue to use to support our local community. I think I like this practical way of thinking.”

 

Nullification Part 6

Copyright 2017 Evelyn Zinn.
All rights reserved.

Halloween was one of the quietest I had ever experienced. An advantage I found I liked living in the country. Everyone else was at the store for a party. I had the house to myself. Though it was not spent relaxing. I had not been able to find a ceramic pot that suited what I needed and so for the last two weeks, I had been elbow deep in clay.

I had to explain to Maxine and Rosscoe that no, we would not be building a kiln or painting the bowl. That was the spell would enter the water. The water over a period of time would dilute the clay down until there was nothing left and then the working would be begin to seep into the Worlds.

This night however saw me just practicing. There were five bowls made and they would be drying in the sun room for the next several days. I was just playing around. I needed it as the last couple of weeks had been nothing but prep. Keeping myself on task with the store duties had been hard. I wanted to finish everything and now.

“You’re as bad as your namesake.”

I paused and looked over at my rocking chair which was now moving slightly.

“You’re the last spirit I would expect.”

He chuckled and leaned forward.

“Yes I imagine. Since it was me that your mother hated so much. I suppose you barely remember your namesake though.”

“I remember she had fire brown hair.”

“Look fiery in the sun, but was really just brunette with our bloodlines natural highlights.”

I kept working.

“Why are you here grandfather?”

“Because I know what you’re going to do and I’m here to ask you to do me a favor in the spell of yours.”

“Oh?”

He explained what he wanted. I had to admit I felt embarrassed to having forgotten that angle.

“I can add another ladder path cord.”

“No, it must be done with a very particular song. Do you remember the path finding song I taught?”

I smiled. Still to this day I would find myself humming that song if I was having a hard time with a decision.

“When you lay the bowl to rest… sing that song.”

“I can do that. Now can I ask you something grandfather?”

“Shoot.”

“Am I missing anything else?”

“Your father holds the answer to that question, but you won’t be seeing until the Sunday after Thanksgiving am I right?”

I nodded. I wasn’t on speaking terms with my mother as she had divorced my father because he wouldn’t yield the family journal to her. I only spoke to my father these days.

“It was her side of the family that gave you your ingenuity.”

“And fricking ego. Damn thing is harder to keep in check than hormones.”

“Only because you’re still young. Your raw ability comes from your namesake, my mother in law. Claudette darling, do you have time for a bit of history?”

I gestured to the clay I had just collapsed.

“I’m actually taking tonight off, so I’d say yes.”

A pipe appeared out of nowhere in his hand.

“Much of what you are seeking to clean up, as you know is from the dabblers and messy business of sloppy magic. Once many of the families who still carried a folk tradition or two reached the North American continent they picked a few things from the Native Americans that helped circle us back to be more tidy with our magic.”

“However there have always been those who refuse to listen to the lessons that have passed down to every magic user and they do as they wish or blindly follow a tradition. For a bunch of idiots who claim a broom, they sure as hell don’t know how to use one!”

I snorted.

“I’m sure grandmother appreciated that.”

“That woman would spend an exact of amount of time cleaning. You have no idea the weight that was lifted off of her shoulders when the news spread that Down’s Syndrome is genetic. The amount of freedom that has been given back to us by science is something to be grateful for. Sadly, you will continue to encounter those who can’t think past their precious little reputations or noses for that matter.”

He took a long drag on his pipe and thought for several moments.

“Did you recognize the magic on the chest?”

“It was old.”

“Too old to get a good read eh? Well, your great great grandfather, who was a BlackFoot but passed as white is who buried that chest. No, he’s not angry you found it but he does wish you had been able to pull everything together before finding it.”

“I was in a race against other individuals.”

“Yes, descendant of those who were too careless to learn. Which reminds me. How attached are you to those journals?”

“Not very.”

“Good.  You’re to build a pyre along with that bowl and burn them on the lake. The heat from it will melt the ice enough to drop the pages, which are old into the water causing them to disintegrate completely. The time of handing information over on a silver platter is over.”

“So there’s a consensus finally?”

“Yes and it’s that you’re nuts. However the ancestral councils have all agreed it’s time these whippersnappers start over.”

“That could start another Witch’s War. We all know how that last one ended.”

Grandfather took another long drag on his pipe.

“Are those journals accounted for?”

“Yes. They were some of the first I gleaned and then wrapped in ash, salt and sackcloth.”

“Good. They must be burned first. You’ll need to make a fire for each journal. This part you can have some fun with.  Use some random configuration for the fires, the conspiracy nuts will eat up like home made candy.”

“Trying to tell me what you want next year?”

He chuckled.

“It’d be nice.”

He paused and leaned forward again towards me.

“You’re probably going to need a new alarm clock.”

He was right of course.  I may… or may not have thrown the damn thing across the room. Yes it was ten am but it had come too soon for my tastes.  The others didn’t get back until noon. All but Maxine went to bed. We spent the next hour talking as I filled her in.

“I knew him, your grandfather. Sounds like the spirit world doesn’t change a person.”

 

Nullification Part 5

Copyright 2017 Evelyn Zinn.
All rights reserved.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Each of the old journals was taking anywhere from a day to four or five days depending on its age. I’d had already gone through a full box of cotton gloves and was on the second box now. Maxine had moved into the second bedroom suite moving in officially with me and Rosscoe was living on site now as well. During one of the days at the store several weeks back, Maxine had fallen and busted her hip. It had been a huge blow to all of us as she seemed to be less herself now.

She was in her 60’s true, but to see a woman you once watched rope an errant bull that then decided to try and run her over and hit the brakes when it realized that she wasn’t backing down and meekly follow like a damn lamb, be brought low was painful. However since moving in with me, her spirits had started to begin to recover. She was an old country gal and when they found themselves abruptly stopped for whatever reason, it tended to take a while for them to come around.

Fall was in the air and we were having to finally turn the heat on at night. Maxine insisted she didn’t need it but I don’t think she’s realized I know she has two quilts and one of my afghans on her bed. The leaves were starting to turn color, the air crisp and ground slowly falling asleep for the coming winter. Halloween was just around the corner leading the holiday season ever closer and with it, Winter Solstice.

That was my deadline. It was a null moon. It was falling on a meteor shower that night and there were all sorts of little astrological goodies that Rosscoe kept raving about. I couldn’t care less. I was finding the clues and keys as needed and had figured out the last of the missing pieces with Maxine’s help.

It had been purely by accident. I was mixing together a batch of moon tea, going purely off smell this time as the last time I did by flavor and it wasn’t a success. As I was measuring out parts, I was explaining to Maxine the wall I had come up against.

“It’s all one hundred percent now laid out on a clear path. The only problem is the vessel or rather the delivery system. If I use what all these journals state is a surefire way I’m going to end up bringing everyone and their cousin down onto my head and this isn’t going to happen.”

Maxine paused from where she had been very slowly pulling out a binding stitch from her families ancestral journal.

“Is there anything from your hobbies that you could use to help yourself figure out a solution?”

“Not entirely. An overlay of all them perhaps.”

This had set me into thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time I had done what the snobs call low or common magic which is to say, prep everything a little at a time and then either burn, bury and drown the magic so that it enters the streams of the world.

If I used a large ceramic bowl, and covered the top with a dis-solvable in water substance that could give me the advantage I needed. Our lakes freeze over by Yule and the ice acts a nice little shield to keep anything from been found.

I hadn’t realized I had been thinking out loud.

“And you’ve stumbled on all this information on how to pull this all off by sheer accident and insane levels of curiosity?”

I nodded.

“I should be grateful you’ve not blown up this house yet shouldn’t I?” she said with a chuckle that sounded more like the Old Maxine.

“How’s the spirit world sounding?”

Maxine sighed.

“It’s loud and chaotic again as it has been for the last several decades.”

“Not for much longer.”

I shoved the cork into the tea bottle.

“I suppose if one wanted to, they could hold it all hostage but how long?”

Maxine didn’t look up from her work.

“This may be why certain ones have tried so damn hard to a hold of it all. It would make them powerful.”

“But also hunted,” I plopped into the rocking chair Rosscoe had bought me as a house warming gift.

“I do think with the place we’re at with the journals, means we can take a break. Besides, I need your help in making a component for this.”

“Oh?”

“Do you remember the knots you tied for the Bridge spell you cast several years back?”

Maxine started chuckling.

“I think I see where you’re going with this, but explain to me what you see in that mind of yours.”

I showed her the rough sketch and pointed out where I needed the knots to fall and why I wanted those knots in particular. As I explained my reasoning for each knot her eyes widened.

“You really are trying to cover all bases aren’t you?”

“Do you honestly think I could live with myself if I didn’t? For all I know, it’s the most logical explanation but all avenues must be accounted.”

“What happens when those who choose that second option start to make an impact?”

“The same thing that would happened once their bodies became too old to sustain. It’s staying their choice, I’m just empowering them to make it.”

“This is going to go over well with most anyone.”

I paused in my color selection for the cord.

“I don’t care. There are too many things going on in the Spirit World to just leave it alone. I won’t leave alone and I won’t abandon anything or anyone over there.”

Maxine nodded.

“It’s because of that that my children choose you dear. They could see you shared the fire.”

“Have they been in contact?”

“Yes, they’re spending New Years here with us.”

“Excellent.”

 

Nullification Part 4

Copyright 2017 Evelyn Zinn.
All rights reserved.

 

It only took a week to get the house set up properly. It was the setting of wards, traps and other much more mundane things that seemed like they took forever. Whether I liked it or not, good wards are cast during the right moon phase. Which meant a lot of time on the telescope (which I didn’t mind) but also meant staying up or waking up at oddball damn hours to cast, which I minded greatly.

I had found an old in great shape trunk on CL and spent much of the time when not working on the website or doing other secretary things, working on sanding and refinishing it.

Maxine was over for that weekend, to help me finish unpacking and setting up. It wasn’t until we were done that I showed her the chest. She gave a low whistle and just barely touched it with her fingertips.

“Excellent choice in stain color. I believe you now when you say you’ll be able to hide it in plain sight…”she paused and studied the chest “Oh you clever girl.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“The protection and shielding spells you’ve literally worked into the piece. How?”

“45 hours of sanding and 12 hours of staining work.”

Maxine looked at me mouth agape.

“Are… you serious? That’s how you did it? Claudette you genius. You were already putting in the work so why not add the magic as you worked which would then just soak into the chest like the stain does.”

It was incredibly hard not to blush at the praise. The concept was a damn simple one and one I had stumbled across purely by accident. Unlike Maxine, I’d never had a real teacher for the magic. It was all trial and error. I think that’s why Maxine enjoyed my company so much. I wasn’t afraid to admit I done goofed on anything.

She looked at the walls that I had painted inside the house and at the small bits and pieces of artworks I had hung.

“You did the same with this space. That’s why you rolled your eyes at Rosscoe because it didn’t actually matter about the moon phase on the inside of the house.”

“I’ve never restricted myself in such manners. Imbueing as one works, is one of the fastest, most thorough and clean ways of working magic. With even a few minutes here and a few minutes there, one can weave a ritual symphony simply and efficiently.”

Maxine nodded as she thought over the implications and applications.

“Are you sure you don’t want to inherit my circle?”

“Positive.”

She laughed long and hard at that. I was not the kind to function well in a big group of what were supposed to be close knit people. I had a few very close friends and then an outer circle of sorta close friends that numbered in the dozens but most of the time I didn’t invite the outer circle over for tea.

There were always jealousies or envies to guard against and the drama that could happen in a group always left me feeling depressed. Maxine usually only joked anymore about me taking over the group when she was ready to step down. Unless another fight had broken out between probates, then she’d rant and rave about how I was right, it wasn’t worth the loss of one’s hair color and ability to give a damn.

“When will the chest be ready?”

“Not for awhile yet. I still have to build the false walls and it looks like I’ll only be able to hide maybe eight journals in there.  We have twenty six that need hidden.”

We headed into the kitchen to eat dinner. Maxine plopped herself down at the kitchen table and watched as I measured out two bowls of lamb stew. It was a few minutes before Maxine spoke again.

“How much of that stain do you have left?”

“Plenty.”

“How does a matching china cabinet and a couple of bookshelves sound?”

“Horribly cliche.”

“Too bad because I have such sitting in Marcus’s garage. They’ll go nicely here and you’ll have a decent looking living room for a change. Besides what good are cliches if you can’t occasionally take advantage of them? ”

The back handed compliment triggered an involuntary eyeroll.

We changed the topic of conversation for the rest of the meal as Maxine filled me in how the community meeting of the local pagan representatives was a debacle. The spirit world was still deathly quiet and the many psychics who were legit were accusing the Wiccans of binding them, the Wiccans accusing the Asatrau of sealing off the city from anyone or anything spiritual of any kind, the Astrau accusing the Fey worshippers of cruel glamours and the Fey just rolling their eyes and in general sounds of disgust at everyone pointing fingers.  Then there was everyone in between the different flavors of Celtic, Greek, Egyptian, South American, etc that tossing around some of the most outlandish conspiracy theories I’ve ever heard.  I shuddered at some of them.

I never went to those meetings and never will. I was content outside of the general population and it was going to stay that way.

“I managed to open the oldest of the journals without the binding cracking into pieces,” I decided it was time to go back to talking about the business.

“How is it?”

“Exquisite. Sadly it from one of the extinct families.”

“Which one was that?”

I mentioned them and the immediate family members that were present during their last years.

“Explain to me how they went extinct again?”

“Like three of the other families.  All sons were killed or so badly maimed in the Civil War that they never had kids. Any daughters went west, many dying along the way and those that made it out west never married. They found themselves content teaching or running shops with an uncle or widowed aunt.”

Maxine nodded.

“You’ve traced the entire family then and know for a fact that there’s no one left to give the journal too?”

“Yeap. Unfortunately even if there was a descendant, they would have no idea what to do with the book. I’ve started disassembling the book so that I can go over each page more thoroughly.  Rosscoe has leather blanks on order for me when I’m ready to rebind it.”

Maxine mused for a few moments.

“I’d say don’t rebind it. The papers are going to be so fragile that it might be more work than what it’s worth. Turn the leather blanks in large pockets, not bindings. It’ll be easier on the old books that way.”

 

 

Where have you BEEN?!

Oh you know….

Just dealing with a positive amount of good chaos and an amount of chaos that has been…. neutral/bad/takes time to ride out the consequences of chaos.

Has Changeling’s Agony progressed any?
Somewhat.  I know where I’m going with her and I know why and when but all characters are going “nu uh. Not yet for now.”  Same with all the other stories.

I’m not yet back until November. A good friend invited me to her state and the place that has projects that need built for the month of October.  I can’t wait. I’m going to be IN DA WOODS for well over a month.  Yes, manuscripts coming with for when I can’t sleep or wake up early.  Yes you’ll get to hear about the adventures….after I’m back in town.

Sabbatical.  Every human needs this. As at least 72 hours no digital age.  Do EEETTTT!!!! It’s refreshing. It’s wonderful.  It’s been four years since my last.

More posts soon before I go, and I will try to have some scheduled posts.  K?

Experiments

With Food

For whatever reason I was really really really wanting Salmon candy.  Which is basically Salmon jerky.  The steelhead trout was a better deal though.  Used my Sriracha Sauce (vinegar/citrus juice, honey, sriracha and soy sauce) as the marinade and will be popping them into the oven tonight on low heat for over night drying.

The parts that didn’t go into the sauce (ahem) I turned into dinner.  It was good enough that even DR who hates fishy liked it well enough to eat a few bites. (Win!)

With Thread

I don’t know how much non-crocheters/knitters out there know about Irish lace, but I’ve a new project gearing up that I can’t wait to unleash that’s involves these older techniques.

With the Background

Progress is being made on Changeling’s Agony.  I’m hoping once I get another four chapters done, you guys will have seven weeks back to back of chapters and I’ll be able to work on a couple of the other writing projects for a couple of weeks.  Been playing around with different music types, singers and composer’s.  It’s an odd concept I suppose letting what I’m listening to guide me through my day’s activities, but it works.  It’s merely one trick in a bag of trick in staying productive.

Sunshine on your shoulders

Honestly does make you happy. It’ll make you happier if it’s on your bare skin. No, no sunscreen. Just ten to fifteen minutes of sunshine.

We’re going to talk about something rather personal for me, so sit back with that cup of coffee or tea because this might ramble long.

In case it’s not been apparent, I do have depression problems. They used to be incredibly severe depression problems. For whatever the year leading up to hitting puberty and then for most of my adult life up until about January 2012 was spent in a series of working my way upwards so to speak.  The last real dangerous bout of depression was in the last months of 2011. I honestly don’t remember most of the last two months of that year outside of a beautiful cat, and my big brother and sister (adopted).

I do not nor ever have used medication to treat it. Why not? Given I can’t have three major food groups, am allergic to only the Gods know what else (allergy tests are expensive but on the agenda) and Penicillin, codiene and sulfa drugs…. you seriously think that I was going to risk worsening my symptoms while they played let’s tweak this that and the other thing until they found the right mix? That I would then be quite possibly dependent on for the rest of my life?  Er… no thank you. That is not for me. I like being lucid and not doped up.

Going back to the stages when the depression hit… I don’t remember most of my childhood in passing let alone my teenage years.  I remember my Junior and Senior years a bit more than the rest but they are still blurry.

This ties back into the sunshine bit in a few, like I said, it’s going to take a bit today.

After having the fortune of getting to cabin sit (sound familiar?) things were looking odd for me. I spent 7 months in that cabin, and during that time went through the worst bout of depression I had ever been through because I was finally admitting to things having happened to me that I didn’t want to admit to even myself. January 2012 marked the turning point.

It’s amazing what happens when you finally admit to the shit that’s happened to you and admit you may or may not have been able to grasp it more quickly and avoid so many mistakes.

I was still climbing out of that hole when I ended up not having a phone for about 9 days. Everyone else was freaked out. Me? I was happy. No one could bother me, I couldn’t access any social media sites, the weather was gorgeous save for one day where I just sat with Mindy fire gazing and I was getting massive amounts of sunshine. It was warm enough to be splitting wood in just a tank top and I did.

That was another thing, I was forcing myself to exercise and let me tell you something, chopping wood is great exercise…after you get the technique down.

To use what’s probably a cliche “I woke up.” That’s the best way of describing it. To be honest, it’s left me with not a lot of sympathy for people who kill themselves just because they were depressed. Now, if you’ve actually a disease that you know is going to rob you of who you are (like something terminal like cancer) and you give the folks around a chance to good bye, I’m okay with that. “But you just said-“ I said, you’re damn a coward if you are just depressed. There have been more cowardly suicides than anything else.

That does not mean, that there aren’t other types of suicide. Take Robin Williams for instance. We are just now finding out about all the shit that was going wrong with his body and he knew about it. So while I can understand his reasons, he’s a coward. Because he didn’t give the people around him a chance to say good-bye and make amends where they  needed to be made.  Now do you get it?

Had I managed to commit suicide at any point, I would have been a coward. TURNING THE FOLKS AROUND YOU INTO VICTIMS OF SUICIDE BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WANT TO GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO SAY GOOD-BYE MAKES YOU FUCKING COWARD. Suicide turns everyone whose ever known you into a victim of it in that instance.

I don’t have a problem with folks who are fully aware that they will shrivel up and mentally stop being who they are in a few years from a cancer or disease, living it up and when things take a turn for the worst, throw a party and let everyone hey, say good-bye. You can try arguing with me, but the longer I stay here and suffer the less I’m going to be the person you know and love. Then a few days later or weeks later, quietly and peacefully, and at that point almost honorably, ending it.

Like I’m saying, you have to let folks have a chance to say good bye and make amends. If you don’t, you’ve just insured they are going to be tormented now for the rest of their lives.

Now, just so folks know… a whole bottle of aspirin doesn’t work if you don’t have an aspirin allergy. It’s what I had on hand and that was when I was about 22. Holy shit and don’t look at very colorful stuff either. I think I managed to only get high off it, which I know doesn’t make much sense. The scars on my writs have faded. I’ve had people ask me why I don’t remove them.  I need the reminder of where I’ve been.

Back to the cabin time. Part of what helped about what happened during the week-off from everything and everyone (remember, no phone for nine days) was it stopped mattering that only a few folks were coming to visit me. Only maybe like four or five people came and visited. That was depressing in of itself. Also had a few interesting incidents with folks thinking it was a driveway to no where and being rather shocked to find out there’s a woman with a Glock 26 informing them they ain’t lighting up on her property (and it wasn’t weed I’ll tell you that much. For those of you just now hearing that story, I’ll be that gels a few things!)

After literally nine days of no contact, separating myself from folks that I needed full separation from and a rather nice tan, I was looking around my kitchen realizing that I was seeing it for the first time. I was loving on my cat for the first time. I was seeing the yarn in my hands and feeling it. Really actually feeling it.

The crocheting, the silence, the solitude, the cat, the sunshine, the time I got to spend working on my friends farm, the chopping wood, the stopping running from my past… those are just the pieces of the process that I can remember off the top of my head that got me here…to this point… talking to you via a blog.  It wasn’t until a few months later that I started putting two and two together about sunshine, vitamin D deficiency and the very serious role that vitamin D plays in depression.

I still deal with depression, the PTSD and some serious social anxieties. I still crochet, a lot as many of you know. Crocheting while sitting sunshine is… *happy smile and sigh*  Part of the problem I’m dealing with right now, is that I haven’t kept up a routine of going outside every day and getting sunshine for about 15-20 minutes (that seems to be my sweet spot, but everyone is going to be a bit different in what they need). Trust me, I can feel a huge difference when I remember to get my sunshine and when I don’t. It’s… disconcerting to say none the least. So I’m working on trying to make that a habit.

Also in March 2012, is when I started talking to DZ, the man who is now my fiance and that I am moving with.  That however my dears, is a story for another time.

Happy…wait… ALREADY?!

NOoooooo…. I’m not ready yet!

Bah. Isn’t that how it always goes though? And here for the next month we’ll be catching ourselves having to re-write the year having mistakenly put 2014 instead 2015. Hopefully this makes you laugh at yourself for a moment.

I was going to be working through old content on the old blog and bringing more articles over here for polishing but my blogspot is being a bitch. Feh, fine. I have crocheting to do. We have an amazing amount of wind last night here in my NorthEastern corner of LA. And at one point, it was snowing. Yes, snowing. No, it didn’t stick. 😦

Barring falling back asleep (something about wind makes it seem colder and tends make me burrow into my blankets deeper) should be on track for another installment of Wife of a PI and chapter V for Changeling’s Agony.  Now, I am not a writer and if I am I’m just a damn baby at it. My thing is yarn crafting. I do the writing to get my muse to leave to me alone so I can get orders done.  Speaking of which, I need to get to diving nose first in my yarn here.

Hmm? Oh no I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. Because they are quite silly, and I’m still in that point of recovery from a few things that any New Years, birthday, Samhain, etc that I am still alive to see I celebrate.  I set goals yes, among them being catching up on all projects yarn related and straightening up the apartment. Not really resolutions you know.

Anyways, I hope you all stay very safe this New Year’s.  Designated Drivers, good food and comfy homes to you all.

Opening post

Insert obligatory introduction.

… yeah okay that was more cheesy than normal for me.  Postings will not be regular here yet until after the end of next month. I’m going to be doing a large amount of tweaking (within what I can do via the free account on WordPress) and then from there I’ll be posting here regularly while mothballing the old Wandering Witch over on BlogSpot.  Though if I end up with followers over here like straight off the bat, I’ll start posting here right away anyways.

I will be bringing all of the old posts over as well, and polishing them up too.  There will be new content alongside them so unless otherwise state because I have something else I need to focus on, Monday and Thursday I’ll be aiming for new content posts, while Tuesday and Saturday will be old posts from the old blog, polished up.

So I’m not impressed with WordPress due to its cost for the higher premium packages.  I’ll upgrade that’s for sure…. but at a much later date once the income stream loosens up enough for me to be able to do that.

So now what?  Well first I got to figure out how to build another couple of pages. One for stuff from Amazon and one for my stuff.  Which I’m fairly certain is going to just be a copy and paste job from Etsy again for the time being.

One thing at a time Evie!”

Yeah I know… but but BUTTONS!