Journal Entry - 6/9/98

Moon Phase = Gibbous, on the
way to full (Wed.) Weather = cool, cloudy
and drizzly. Yay! Thunder! Lightning! Current books =Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg
Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank

June 9, 1998

This early morning's music is provided by: a nice cool wind blowing out of the east and one or two crickets on percussion. Effects by blue sheet lightning to the west. Back-up singing by the distant thunder and occasional rain.

Rainy night has given way to sunny day
I'm sitting here a bit worried and plenty pissed. C.M. went to the doctor (that alone is enough to make you stop and say, "huh?") and he originally wanted me to go with him but nooooooooo...I was pushed out of the way by his damned mother. Again. Without even having a chance to say or do anything about the situation but fume. Again. I did tell him last night when he asked that I didn't think he had anything serious, which he needed after some of the crap he was told by other people.

One of the first things I was taught as a witch, as a shamanic healer, as a rule in general is this: If you're not asked, don't tell and especially don't attempt to heal. You don't know what that soul is supposed to experience so don't interfere and besides - why make a person worry unnecessarily with dire warnings of might-be and could-be? Wait until you're asked. This is not an easy rule to follow but I try and because of this, I've been called passive, uncaring, and even 'acting like royality'.

So here I sit, hands practically tied because I wasn't asked for more than an opinion, alone. I don't even know where the hell she's taken him.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with that woman, other than the fact that she comes off looking like a bully. Last time I had anything to do with her, I had no idea anything was even wrong. I lived with her for a while and just tried to make the best of a bad situation. I even altered my schedule so that I wouldn't be in their way - they wouldn't even see me if they didn't want to and I could help it. A memo just appeared one day - a memo, mind you - that she was tired of me 'acting as if I were royalty and she and her husband were my personal slaves' and to leave. No 'Hey, there is a problem. Can we talk about it?' No 'Hey yo! What are you, a ghost or somethin'?' Nothing. Just a damn memo.

People like her give us bitches a bad name. lol.

Here's some flora notes: the chamomile that I planted way back when in those terra cotta pots has finally deigned to grow. I was beginning to wonder if it thought that it was too good for the likes of such plain pots. The carrots, on the other hand, have no such problem. The greens are just over a foot tall and still going. The patchouli is finally happy in the front yard - it has full sun and plenty of room to move. It has recovered some of its color and has nearly doubled its size. Evidently, the pennyroyal and rosemary like their new neighbor because they have just gone wild also - especially the pennyroyal , I think it's starting to think about world domination. The spearmint and lemon verbena continue to enjoy their homes around the old rotting log - they've got instant mulch! The melissa (lemon balm) has doubled in size since it came up this year and has already started making moves on one of the elf lilly's spot. The yarrow is coming up nice and strong - it may start putting out blooms in a few weeks and the peppermint is happily hiding next to the oak tree where I haven't mowed lately. The cinquefoil has just about been taken over by poison ivy and the purple coneflowers continue to grow.

Oh! Guess what I found? Wild raspberries! There are several bushes back in this little hollow...now I want more. Guess I'm just going to have to grow my own bushes.

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