chatter · Uncategorized

One Lump or Two

Ten years ago or more, when I was a bit more spunky, I and the team of people I’d managed to assemble went around bothering various things be it a god or a random ghost and even Edgar Cayce. Yes, I do mean astrally, or with remote viewing. You name it. The joke? It’s tea time. Is it tea time. Ready for tea time. Hey everybody it’s time for tea.

I was referring to a time when the Wheel turns and something was gonna happen. It was something I knew to expect, but when you’re in “the program” just about everything is only hinted at in your mind and half the time you’re not sure where you get your shit from until it’s too late.

Roll to now several years later. I’d forgotten about that old joke. The team is long since gone – most of them went mundane. And suddenly the Hollywood butterflies are *referring to tea time*. Taylor Swift is being served tea by a snake in her most recent video. Someone else said it was tea time in something, I can’t remember what, but it made me sit up with eyebrows to my forehead.

… It’s… apparently tea time.


I just… don’t know what tea time actually… is.

The only thing I know is this. When Oswald supposedly shot JFK, he had a meeting with a woman that day who served him tea. It was tea time for him. And he cannot remember.

This phenomenon is mirrored by a few other “lone” assassins.

WTF is tea time….


The Cat Came Back…

I’ve been busy as per usual so haven’t been here to update, even though Kinsouth/All Thing is fastly approaching. It’s this weekend as a matter of fact. We’re packing up and getting ready now. The house sitter should be arriving soon.

I’m lazy so I’m just going to copy and paste what I wrote to the kind person who reached out to Bastet for me so as to bring my cat home when he was lost.


I figured (Mongo) was dead, as you know. That’s my luck, you know. But what yours told you was pretty accurate.

From what we can gather, he’d been living up the way from where he ran, hiding under dumpsters and wotnot. Finally a kind woman took him in, named him Oliver, and found out tonight that he was missing. She brought him to us, and even though she had tears in her eyes she let me have him back. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Liono couldn’t get along with her other cat, she never would have found out Liono already had a home. She was going to give him to another home, but that home had seen the lost flyer earlier today.

He’s thin, and he’s lost his poufy cheeks. He’s still humongous (he’s an extra large cat). When I got him in my arms, he curled around me like he always did. He sort of purred on the way home, but it was tentative as if he was hoping this would not be another chapter in his harrowing adventure.

So now we have a thousand cats. Liono was one of 6 when this began. Bastet sent Gremlin, who is still small and slant-eyed as if he knows everything. When we were leaving to see if this cat was indeed Liono he came to the door to go with us, which was unusual. I hoped it was a sign. It might have been.

We also have Hephaestus (Feisty for short) who was turned in as a possible Liono and my soft-hearted other half couldn’t turn him away.

I’m still sprouting tears just reliving this to tell you. LOL.  I don’t know what we’re going to do with so many cats, but for the price of Liono being cared for during his adventure and making it home I’m okay with this. I hope the neighbors will be, too!

I shall change his official name at the vet to Oliver’s Liono perhaps.

Okay I gotta go cuddle my baby and cry tears into his fur for a while. Ha. Thank you so much. Thanks to Bastet for caring for him. And whomever and whatever else saved him. Thanks to the whole universe, which spoils me already… but the universe should know I’m grateful and don’t take it for granted.


Let this be a lesson to everyone, I guess!

Off now I go to finish preparing for Kinsouth. Pictures are sure to follow as always!

chatter · Uncategorized

Gifts from Bastet

2f2d35cf17cc7f1f30d0f8e4bd321187-dbf1dfv[1]As a piss poor magician, I have been trying to keep my focus on servitors and the manitu of late. My reasons are multi-fold, but the biggest two of those reasons have to do with 1. knowing about a clutch of ancient servitors and 2. dabbling in demonolatry only to get slightly serious after learning that a similar path was the original religious way of my people. But still I am a piss-poor magician, and I think this is why the cosmos smacked me a little bit a few days ago.

Normally my approach to magick is nonchalant. Then one of my beloved cats tore open the cat carrier and ran away from the veterinary parking lot. Trying to find him by asking around and posting flyers wasn’t going to get anywhere, and I knew it. I had to take that further step above.

First I turned to my servitors with no results. I wasn’t surprised. As days passed my anxiety grew, and then I knew. I was going to have to go crying to someone with more reach than the servitors.

It took me a while to figure out just who to go to. Faced with this situation I actually didn’t want to go to the obvious answer – Bastet, cat goddess of Egypt, because that’s what everyone does. I opened books and looked on the internet at various names, trying to find someone who wouldn’t have such a long line of people waiting to pester them. Indeed it was with much reluctance that I finally turned to Bast.

How I did the actual approaching I guess is important only in that everyone has their own unique ways of doing things. For me, one of the strongest ways I use to create a Work is to do things with my hands. In the old days, I used to work with paint and canvas. Spirits used to approach me often for their portraits to be made. It was interesting.

Drawing a circle and doing all that solitary ritual stuff literally has little effect for me. I knew it, and where I had been lately trying to use the ritual methods in a half-ass attempt to be less of a piss-poor magician I was desperate. I opened Photoshop, grabbed my light pen, and I began to ‘pray’.

I was with her immediately. For me these experiences are a lot of empathic remote viewing, so I felt her affirmative nod more than saw it. It wasn’t a yes so much as a “I hear you and I agree with your request”. (They speak in tiers you know.) Then she requested a portrait from me. I hadn’t received such a request in so many years, I admit I chuckled and said out loud, “Okay. I can do that.”

I worked all through the night, putting on the final flourish as the sun was rising. I have embedded the image in this post. The sun? She insisted on that sun although I didn’t know why at the time. The wings? She actually guided my hand some, which is why their style is a slight bit more detailed than my usual kind.

As it was finished she changed her tune from ‘Yes your cat was coming home.’ to ‘No I’m not going to do it but I will you shall see.’ I thought maybe she was disappointed in my work, that I had taken too many artistic liberties or something. I also doubted the final message I had received, a bad habit but one can lie to themselves so easily.

Then I looked her up a bit and I learned why she wanted that sun, as well as other things. It was amusing.

Twenty-four hours later it happened.

The husband left for work early in the morning, and I was still awake from handling some odds and ends in the office. Suddenly he drives up, rushes inside, and hands me a kitten; a little orange kitten who happened to look exactly like my cat gone astray.

The husband explained that the kitten appeared suddenly at the door to the gas station as if it had been waiting for him. The lady at the counter told him that it would let no one near it. However, the little guy crawled right up into the husband’s shirt like my other cat used to do. And purred, and purred, and melted into my arms to purr some more. He had decided he was with the right people, as if he knew to expect it.

I wept when I realized this kitten had been sent from Bast, because I knew it meant my other cat would not be coming home. I had suspected he didn’t make it out there in town, because I had dreamed he jumped on the bed. In the dream I knew he had actually truly returned and it wasn’t a dream. My cats all tend to come back to me this way, and they may hang around for years before moving on.

So clutching this tiny gift from a goddess, I tried so hard to be thankful. But I could only feel sorrow. The kitten in turn didn’t let me out of his sight for 24 hours, looking me in the eyes and purring softly. Goddess only knows what was going on in that tiny cranium of his.

It’s a day later and the little guy has no name yet. It will come to me, as with all the other kittehs in my care. Dinkus maybe. Ha. He already has become part of the household. The other cats barely even hiss at him – not normal in case you don’t know cats – and he’s even litterbox trained.

Of course we have to make sure we haven’t somehow gotten someone’s beloved and lost pet. It wouldn’t be right to do to someone else what is happening to me. Even though we’re pretty sure he was sent to stay. And I admit to still hoping Mongo makes it home.

Thank you, Bastet, for making as good as you could on my request. You could have said no. You chose a path of love instead. Whatever is name his going to be, I’m sure he’s going to pick something appropriate.


Up and Coming Audio Book

I know that a lot of you follow this blog for the pretty pictures – and there are a lot of you that follow this blog for news on up and coming book releases. (Which is awesome. I never thought this blog would have the amount of followers it has.)

So here’s something about an audiobook in production, in case any of you are interested in that sort of thing. Enjoy!


Kinsouth’s date

Is set. Well it’s been set, but with everyone going already knowing the date I forgot to update the website again. Ha ha…

So next weekend.

This will also be my husband’s birthday weekend, so I’ll most likely make sugar-free cupcakes for the wish ritual.

Oh! Double magic whammy! Birthday wish ritual plus Kinsouth wish ritual!!!!

This is gonna be gooood.


Headed Out!

Heading out to the Kinsouth thingamabob. It’s going to be a weird one this year. We’re going out to the forest at the Garden of the Gods outside of Harrisburg, Illinois for one night only (tonight). There will be no cell phone reception where we’re going.

Tomorrow we’re going to the Edgar Cayce Exhibit in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. That’s going to be our “learn something” event. I know we’d originally planned for it to be the Bell Witch Cave, but as I’ve said before this event takes care of itself. And Edgar Cayce is more in line with what we do. So it makes better sense.

Whether or not we spend another night in the forest will depend on the weather. I want to, but we may not be equipped to weather it (as it were). But I prefer the Saturday night wish ritual to happen at base camp. However, base camp may end up being our house! LOL

One thing at a time.


The Bad News

We had to cancel the camp site. We’re having a very large financial crisis. We tried to start a gofundme to raise money to help us through this until my husband gets his paychecks going steady, but we can’t even get friends and family to hardly share that. So we’re effectively screwed.

Kinsouth essentially takes care of itself, though, and it’s also the only time all year I take time off. (I also rarely take a day off through the week. I literally work every day.) So we’re going to do something local here, in Harrisburg. We have a very large house so we could hold things here, but local camping is cheap. We live on the edge of a national forest.

The upside is *no one was coming*. So we’re not ruining plans for anyone by this. We’ll plan for the Bell Witch cave again next year. We’ll reserve the spot as soon as the new year turns and things are more stable for us and carry forward.