What could I ask for this holiday season, other than being near family members I love? Now: IF I thought it would add five years to my father or grandmother's life, I'd never "Snape out" or go wild with my style again; but I know it can't make a whit of difference. What I will do this season is spend time with both those generations, and courteously refrain from my crazier shenanigans until after I return to my Portland nest.
But it's also true that even family members aren't always telepathically gifted, much less Legilimens. I'm as likely to end up with the pleasant but general gifts like chocolate bars and earrings as I am a truly tailored gift --- although you never know, and a loved one's perceptivity can surprise you! Dad did, after all, give me his very own Potjie pot to use as a cauldron. After reassuring me he hadn't melted lead in it. Dad, you rock. Still, I have a dreadful little tendency to buy my own presents. This, too, is something Dad understands: He knows exactly what he needs. What he uses every day, for instance. Typically, they're called tools.
But both he and I also get a wild hair up in, and buy books or other stuff that we think we might need, or that just strikes our fancy. Like this, for instance: A book on creative scrapbooking and collage. It just makes me happy to look at it. I also figured it could be an inspiration --- my best current collection of "painted pages" happens to be my hand-bound potistry log, which I just caught up in painting-wise in the last few weeks. Not only is Potus ("potion", ninny, not our excuse for a president!) a lot of fun to make, it's built to last a lifetime.
From the same store, New Renaissance, came this: a reference book about history, mythology and symbolism. Couldn't pass it up; I mean, I am big on the snakes, and it looked fascinating when I skimmed it. Did I mention both those books were on sale?
This vintage bottle and a little piece of rather Gothic collage art came from Scrap, the next best thing in the city next to a free box. Yes, it's the honor of Severa's private lab for both you funky misfits.
What's this? In my new loft, there's not only space for an altar but spiritual room to use it. Here's my main one; I sort of have a smaller one in the auxiliary room, where my tiny "lab" is. And I've had a thing for years now, albeit a little thing, for stone blades. I think they're creepy and wonderful and sacred and cool. So when I saw this carved knife ornament, I grabbed it. Like my little cauldron, it saw blessing and use on its first night with me as an athalme, a magical power-channeling tool. Mom disliked stone pointers and knives, likening them to sacrificial implements; but nope, nothing died at the hands of this one.
It's tiny, but it's cozy, it's lab-like and, for the moment, it's mine. Next year, who knows? Take things day by day, and be grateful.
Home: It's where your junk is. Specifically, the stuffed animals, blankies, pillows and crafts. This season, I'm happy just to nest in like a spider, spin soft wool on the drop-spindles I made this autumn, and weave words, art, tunes, and recipes.
I found a house with vintage bottles on the sills, and returned from work one evening to a light-filled window. I'll be home for Christmas --- whether I'm visiting family or coming back to town.
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