I spent the better part of an hour yesterday talking Bu into the perfect Mother’s Day gift: a morning wandering around the East End Yard Sale. (The hipper side of town, i.e. the one I do not live in, has a huge yard sale the day before Mother’s Day every year. It is teh awesome.) I won a $10 spending limit, as- yes- we are that broke. I was going to stretch it to $15 though. That was what he spent last year on my iTunes card;)
There were three really strong rum drinks and a (studio cleaning dust necessitated) Benadryl last night, which caused 1) a fabulous night of sleep and 2) a rock solid conviction that at six o’clock a.m. on a Saturday I should be in bed. So it is nearing eleven and the cool shit has been bought by bushier-tailed shoppers. I’ve been stalking Etsy while I chug my coffee, but the under $10 stuff I found isn’t screaming at me. Bu asked my half-conscious self on his way out this morning would I mind finding a little something for his mom today.
So. I am planning a shopping excursion. (Alone: w00t!)
I really want to get her stuff to make virgin margaritas at home. Been dying to do that, actually. OK, truth be told, I’m really dying to get her tipsy on real ‘ritas. It’s like a mission. I truly believe there will come a day when Papaw is out of town or something and I will make her favorite drink for her. She refuses to drink them in public. It would be unseemly (because they are LDS, remember?) and she’s terrified of even ordering a virgin drink that might possibly look like a real one. But chick is jonesing. She mentions it every time we’re at a restaurant that serves drinks.
So I think I will get my lazy ass in the shower and head to KMart to see if they have drink mixes and a cheap romantic comedy or drama on DVD. Mamaw lurves her some cheesy kissy face stuff:) Then I may head to the thrift store to see if I can find a treasure there for my own Mama Goddess Day present. Then I will reunite with my munchkin and do some laundry or more launch another offensive into the studio mess. If I shove a few feet worth of floor-cover crap to the side, I could set up the Bird with her easel and probably be productive.
I need to see if Mamaw has a blender, so she can make her yummy drink. What else goes in a virgin ‘rita- just ice & the mix? Will have to research.
I appointed myself Queen of the Honeycakes for ritual food tomorrow. Found some honey orange muffins and another honey muffin recipe, so the baking will be a hybrid of this + this. For non Wiccy peeps, Cakes & Wine is like communion sort of and also grounds you after energy raising. Being very Kitchen Witch myself, I exalt it highly and demand fresh baked goodness. The wine is never wine, because we have a recovering alcoholic in the group. We will be using pomegranate juice tomorrow, and because we have a germophobe and a chick with a raging mouth herpes outbreak (yes, it’s me- it’s a painful but not too visible one which is preferable actually, to me) we are doing individual chalices instead of sharing. I’m bummed- it’s less powerful to me this way, but I’m hoping to make it fun and dress up little plastic champagne flutes maybe. Or something. Hell, maybe we could sip juice outta fake eggs?
This is the cutey patootey image adorning my computer screens right now. I love it.
Happy Vernal Equinox, or Oestara, or First Day of Spring. I’m celebrating by cleaning some house tonight, typing up an Order of Service for our ritual Saturday, finalizing ritual plans and getting supplies together, and hopefully talking the grandies into getting the Birdy some tights and shoes to match her Easter Sunday dress. (For our Oestara rite, she’ll be in her ladybug costume from Halloween. Meh: can’t find photo for to linky.)
Bu’s Valentine’s Day card. I’m feeling really self-satisfied right now and am enamoured with my own cleverness.
Edit: I hope Bu isn’t freaked out:) I have never gone humorous with the Val Day card- I usually go the metaphysical Rumi-quoting route. I had a great one a few years ago with a human heart and ribcage with layers of thick red peeling paint texture over parchment with a Rumi poem but I can’t find it. It was gorgeous. I’m sure he’ll dig my snarky fun. I did write very emotively on the inside. We are a fine wine, Bu & I, I wrote. Seven years together this June- is that long enough to say we are wine? Does it sound like, “Jeez we have been together soooo long…”?
I don’t do resolutions… technically. Because there is too much negative energy in the ‘Verse expecting them to be broken. Buuut…
We had an impromptu ritual last night ending at midnight, wherein we burned little papers with descriptions of the bad stuff we were praying to banish.
night-time nummins, with scribbles on the paper by the baby
And Molly played a little wooden flute and sprinkled chalice water everywhere, which is an improvement over her former ritual role which was to pee all over me. Bu had a great time and asked like a (pretty drunk) Christmas kid, “Are we casting a circle and everything?”
So that was great. Beginning the year in circle with my little dear family, it is just wonderful. Also, I found a sweet herb stash (and I mean something completely different here than Bu would) including Damiana- sex mojo! and Highjohn Root- rockin’ prosperity vibes!
So, a very Blessed 2008 to you, and I hope you love to write eights as much as me. Mine have a circle on top of a circle, roughly the same size, even though that makes it less of a sideways infinity glyph. I heart circles. So I’ll be having fun with that this year. And this is me clinging desperately to the playful and fun. See how not clinically depressed I am? Yeah, that’s because you weren’t here earlier. Grandma fell- we thought a broken or dislocated shoulder but it’s just a really awful bruise- and I crashed into a grey icky hell for a few hours. She’s home & OK now, probably with happy happy narcotics.
Crazy Birdy antics with a plush Dora chair have cured me for now:)
Some highlights from Christmas:
- I nearly die from the restraint when my cousin shows me his stash of Buffy comics but I don’t want to start reading because of the clingy chocolate covered toddler.
- Bu delights me with his givingness when he puts our Amazon gift certificates together so I can go a little over my share for shipping on my own Buffy* fangirl stuff. The first season’s on its way on DVD (yay! completion!), as well as the eighth season in graphic novel form**. And Bu anticipates a new photo book.
- Molly gets my old
death trap rocking horse from my Dad and I practice the restraint thing yet again by not gaping and asking him when the hell he got possession of it because I don’t remember it leaving our house during Le Divorce.
- My stepmom got me a bunch of pagan parenting books from my Amazon wishlist. Oh how I lurve Amazon.
- Have a weird little twinge of envy and retro-Daisy Xmas hating when I read Lexie’s “just a Tuesday” post. I can haz Hanukkah? lol… Then realize I can choose to be immune to the pressures I allow to creep in and create my own experience. So yay.
- I lie in bed trying to wake up Tuesday morning worrying how to integrate Santa into a UU/pagan upbringing. Worry into a tizzy of religious confusion then decide to be here now and enjoy the moment of my baby girl discovering the wealth of fun things under our little silver laden fake tree and latch on desperately to the fact that most of it is from FreeCycle and it’s a tiny step away from consumerist frenzied hell.
*I should troll some BTVS forums and try to get them to read my blog so I can know that someone besides me & Betsy gives a flying stake about my references to Her Chosen Blondness.
**You know how random junk just gets lodged in your consciousness sometimes? Melissa’s weird things meme included her aversion to digits in sentences, and ever since reading that I feel a vague twinge of need to write out “eighth” and “first” instead of 8th & 1st like I probably would have done previously.