I’d have to say that my favorite holiday is Halloween or Samhain.
That’s probably because my favorite season is fall and I love practically everything about fall, including its major holiday.
I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. The cooler temps, the colors, decorations, the smells… everything.
I remember in my childhood, going to the church beside my house at Halloween. They did a party for the kids from the church and neighborhood every year. They had games like bean-bag-toss and bobbing for apples. It always smelled like cinnamon and apples in there from the hot cider they served alongside the hot chocolate.
I also always enjoyed the idea that for one day out of the year, it was ok to be whatever you wanted to be. A ghost, a hobo, a cartoon character…even a witch.
As an adult, the holiday has come to have a deeper meaning to me as well, including the thinning of the veil and honoring our ancestors, but I’ll never forget crunching through the dry leaves and smelling apple cider simmering.
Mini-Me got married Friday night in spite of what seemed like one problem after
another. Nearly everything that could go wrong did, and yet we still managed to pull off a wonderful wedding for her somehow.
I even ended up getting ordained again so that I could officiate their wedding. I had to let Chicklet perform the actual ceremony though because I could not stop crying.
They spent their honeymoon at Lake Keowee State Park. A beautiful place and their campsite had a lovely view.
We spent some of our Sunday there after having the grandbaby all weekend so that Mini-Me and The Pain could have some alone-time. When we got there, they told us they had rented the site for an extra night and offered it to us.
We weren’t able to stay overnight due to the fact that the air mattress they’d taken sprung a leak Friday night and wouldn’t stay inflated and we didn’t have time before dark Sunday to see if we could find the leak. We stayed until late, a few hours after the kids all left, and it was soothing to both of us after all of the stress we’ve been under lately.
We sat in the pitch black dark by a dying fire with the sounds of the water lapping at the shore and talked about things we’ve been needing to say for a long time and contemplated how easy it is for two people who love each other more than their next breaths, to lose sight of each other in the stress and hustle and bustle of adulting. We reconnected in a way that I’d become uncertain that we ever would again and it was amazing. Rediscovering each other was almost as wonder as when we first found each other nearly 21 years ago.
The hard reality is, we’ve been in trouble for a while. Somewhere along the way, we lost each other and forgot exactly what it was that brought us together. The “D” word has even been mentioned, although no one took any steps in that direction and I honestly didn’t want either of us to. Neither did he, but we’d also both reached a point where it was starting to look kind of hopeless. It seemed like the harder we tried to fix it, the worse things got.
A lot of things can be said in the dark that can’t be said in the light, I suppose, and I’ve had some of my most profound conversations in the dark, I just never thought we’d one day need the dark to be able to communicate with each other. Adulting is hard, ya’ll.
Monday was kind of an easy and playful day. We both knew that since we’d finally broken through the communication barrier, that there were other things we needed to talk over, but neither of us wanted to then. Instead, we waited until Tuesday and spent the day talking while we did things around the house to recover from the wedding/weekend with a grandbaby/day at the lake.
I also spent a fair amount of time Tuesday working on organization and overhauling my budget, calendar, routines, etc. With all of the stuff that’s been going on the last few months as we tried to start pulling everything together for Mini-Me’s wedding, everything got out of whack. The bills, my ability to feel like I was getting any of my “regular” stuff done and even my ability to find time to eat and rest properly.
I’ve barely eaten or slept more than three hours at a time in what feels like months and it was really starting to take its toll on my mental and emotional state, which was taking its toll on every other part of my life.
I’m a creature of habit. Routines are good for me and always have been. Getting too far away from them causes total chaos in my life. That’s one of the reasons the FlyLady system fit me so perfectly.
So, it’s been crazy. Really crazy. I’m going to try to find time to start writing again regularly. I’ve had people tell me for years that I needed to write some of my memories and experiences down and I’ve been thinking about that very thing lately. I’ve especially been thinking about writing down mine and Draco’s story the last few days as I’ve fought to get my life back under control.
At any rate, I’ll leave you with a pic of me and my girls from Friday, right before we all went out for the wedding…
I won’t lie and say that I have a huge Beltane post ready for you today, I don’t. It’s actually kind of snuck up on me this year with all the other things I’ve had going on and I find myself unprepared.
I did manage to get out and do a bit of gardening yesterday, but that’s about it.
The kids were supposed to come over today and get some yard work done and I’d thought we might have a little bonfire to honor the season tonight but I woke up to rainy, dreary skies and a wet ground this morning, so I guess it’ll be more of a personal day with everyone working.
I did realize yesterday, with more than a little dismay, that all of my gardening tools have disappeared over the last two years. At least, I couldn’t find them anyway.
Even so, I managed to get my green onions transplanted into the dirt and out of the kitchen window.
I spent some time out on the porch both alone and sitting with Chicklet. After waking up to my soggy world this morning, I’m glad I took the time yesterday.
Dinner was kind of a throw-together event that mostly featured my harvested green onions.
These are marinated steak bites. A very throw-together kind of main dish, but they were very good.
I’m not sure what it is, but I’m finding a special kind of joy in eating things we grow ourselves and I’m thinking I want a garden again, even if it’s a container garden on the front porch with a herb garden over the sink.
Right now, the apple tree just finished blooming and I’m excitedly watching to see the process of the apples starting to come out since this is the first time I’ve owned an apple tree.
We also have some wild cherry growing out there, too.
Mini-Me and The Pain found several places when we were cleaning up the yard for Easter/Ostara, where blackberry vines are coming up in the yard and I’m more than a little excited about that.
Every time I open my door, I get hit with the sweet smells of honeysuckle and I have found where it’s growing all around the edges of the yard.
I want to look for ways to use honeysuckle before they fade away.
I also think I may have found some wild lettuce growing near my steps. It’s said to be nature’s morphine and one of the strongest natural pain-killers available. If I find out for sure that it is wild lettuce, I’m going to be harvesting it and finding out how to use it as a natural pain alternative.
Here’s an article I found over on Ask A Prepper about wild lettuce.
Something about foraging my own property is appealing to me, just like intentionally growing my own food.
There’s something that I don’t think I’ve mentioned on this blog before, and today’s post seems like the right place to bring it up. Paul and I used to have our own little homestead.
We used to live in a camper in a “friend’s” yard. We shared a communal garden with them and there was talk of chickens, but then the accident happened and my entire life got put on hold. It’s taken two years (it’ll officially be two years on June 13th) for me to even consider picking up the pieces of our old life.
While I’m fully aware that my physical limitations will prevent me from doing a lot of the things I was doing two years ago, I see no reason why I can’t do at least some of those things, just from a more modern-homestead approach.
The few years we spent building our homestead was when I fell in love with making my own things like butter, cool whip, bacon bits, laundry detergent and skincare products.
It was the time when I also learned a lot about using what you have and reusing and repurposing things.
Life has changed a lot in the last two years and there are some things that will probably never be the same, but since Beltane this year is going to be a solo day, I think I’ll spend the day looking back on what life used to be like and making some plans for what’s to come!
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to include myself here or not, but I figured, what the hell? Right? So, here is a peek at my family!
I am 42 years old, as of March 2017.
I’m a wife, mother, and grandmother (GiGi).
I’m also a Hearth Witch (Domestic Pagan, Domestic Diva), blogger and avid gamer.
I like to make homemade things like cleaners and beauty products, and I support Green Living and Sustainability.
I like to grow things.
I love to cook.
I struggle with Mental Illness.
I am an Animal Rights advocate.
I support the LGTBQ movement.
I drink lots and lots of coffee.
My family, or The Tribe, are my world. They mean everything to me.
I met this guy in December of 1995. He’s my soulmate, Twin Flame and the love of my life.
We met while I was having a nervous breakdown in 1995 (another story for another time) and he loved me anyway and helped me through it.
In 1997, we married and he became part of mine and Mini-Me’s life and he helped me raise her. He’s been her Daddy since she was three years old.
He’s a Taurus, the strong and silent type. He was in the Army when I met him and that period of his life helped to shape the man he became.
Because we were so young when we met (I was 20 and he was 22), we practically grew up together. We’ve both changed a lot, and trust me when I say that we have been through a lot, but my love for him has never changed.
The product of my very short-lived first marriage (again, another story for another time).
This girl is what my world has rotated around since I was 17 (almost 18) and first heard the words, “You’re pregnant”.
She has made me the woman I am today and although my first marriage didn’t make it, I consider her a gift and a blessing every day.
She’s gifted in ways that I never was. Very artistic, has the voice of an angel, can make just about anything.
She loves to bake, sew, sing and make things.
This guy will officially be our son-in-law in June 2017. He and Mini-Me have been together for four years now and are the proud parents of Squishy.
At first, Paul and I were upset about the age difference between Mini-Me and The Pain, but he makes her happy and they love each other.
He’s good to our family and is always there if I need him for anything.
He’s very protective of The Tribe.
He loves to hunt and fish and is almost always covered in camo.
This little girl has stolen my heart, just like her Mommy did.
If you had told me when I had Mini-Me that there was any love that compared to the love you feel for your own child, I would have told you that it wasn’t possible. No way could you feel love as intense as what you do for your child.
I was wrong.
At the tender age of three, she has each of us wrapped around her chubby little finger, me especially.
She already shows signs of artistic abilities and loves music and Scooby Doo.
Sometimes, adopted family can mean just as much to you as your actual family. That’s certainly the case with Chicklet.
About 10 years ago, Mini-Me found her locked out of our next door neighbor’s house trying to get in to get to her dog, Smooches, who has now gone on over the Rainbow Bridge. Mini-Me came and got me and we got her furbaby for her.
Somehow, she ended up sleeping on our couch a few weeks later and she never really left.
Since then, she’s become like a daughter to us and has been there for our family through thick and thin.
She loves our family and is fiercely protective of us.
She enjoys performing arts, music, reading and is very active in politics.
This guy right here is super-special!
He wasn’t always my daddy, but he’s always been a father-figure.
When I was born, he was my mom’s best friend and he and his first wife were asked to be my godparents. I called him “Uncle” until I was 10 when he and my mom finally decided to get married.
Since then, he has been Daddy.
He’s smart beyond reason and I’ve called him a “walking encyclopedia” most of my life.
He loves me and my little family and there’s not much he wouldn’t do for us.
He’s intelligent, artistic, loves to read and I have had some of the best conversations of my life with him.
He instilled in me a love and respect for nature and taught me nearly everything I know about everything.
So, now you’ve met the core family. There are other people, like TimberLeaves and Sweetpea, that I do consider part of our family, but this is my Tribe.
Where pain and sleep were concerned, it was a rough week. Read about it here.
We had Easter last Sunday. I slept for 5 hours, the longest I’d slept in days, in the middle of when I was supposed to be getting ready for the Easter cookout.
In spite of that, fun was had by all. The food got done and was good and Squishy had a good time. Even my dad had a good time, although he had some pain issues of his own going on.
I didn’t sleep all week beyond an hour or two here and there and by yesterday, I was exhausted.
Still, it was DH’s birthday and the kids planned a cookout for him. We had ribs that The Pain made and they were delicious! Here are a few pics from yesterday…
Last night, I actually slept for like six hours. Apparently, most of this was done without moving. This morning, my back is killing me, but it was worth it to wake up knowing I’d had more than 2 hours of sleep at one time.
Not much else to say today, it was a slow week because of the lack of sleep. Here’s hoping that last night was a turning point with my insomnia.
I’ve been MIA recently and missed some of my own deadlines here on the blog. I’m still kicking, but the pain issues I mentioned in my last post lead into a horrible bout of insomnia which has left me suffering from mild exhaustion.
I’m going into Day 9 of little to no sleep. My mind has reached such a state of breakdown from lack of sleep that it’s been hard to even think of writing anything useful. The ideas have evaporated along with any hope I have of sleeping more than two hours at a time.
The ideas seem to have evaporated along with any hope I have of sleeping more than two hours at a time.
The pain has finally started to ease some, at least back to where it feels tolerable again, but it has caused such a disruption to my sleep patterns that now I find myself unable to sleep like I normally do. Granted, “normal” for me still isn’t great and hasn’t been for two years now, but it was better than this.
Easter Sunday, the one day I really needed to be up and accomplishing things, I slept for
around 5 hours consecutively in the middle of the day and ran late on our family cookout. The cookout was still fun and the food was still good, but by the time we got outside to start the egg hunt portion of the day, we were losing light fast.
The cookout was still fun and the food was still good, but by the time we got outside to start the egg hunt portion of the day, we were losing light fast.
Squishy was still adorable in her Easter outfit and since she’s only three, I don’t think she really remembered her first two Easters well enough to be disappointed that we only got to hide the eggs once, which was a plus. She still had a good time as well and racked up on Easter gifts, but it didn’t ease my guilt over everything coming together so late in the day.
I was more than a little disappointed in myself that everything felt so rushed at the beginning and that I spent the entire first hour or so everyone was here in the kitchen doing the things I’d intended to be doing while I slept for nearly 5 hours.
The lack of sleep is causing some kind of brain-fog where it’s hard to think straight 90% of the time. I’m awake at all hours and when I do finally sleep for a couple of hours, it’s at weird times and I’m starting to have nightmares that are leaving me feeling like I haven’t actually slept at all and the exhaustion is leaving me without the motivation to do anything other than sit at my desk and stare at the screen.
It’s also caused a drastic increase in my anxiety. Logically, I know that I’m beyond tired, that I’m actually suffering from mild exhaustion and that I shouldn’t let things get to me, but when you’re as tired as I am, it’s often hard to control the emotional side of things.
The brain-fog I feel like I’m trapped in has caused some sort of weird writer’s block when
it comes to the kind of material I had hoped to be producing here.
The timing of starting a new blog and this happening couldn’t have been worse.
This morning, I felt compelled to share something, even if it was just to say that I’m practically not sleeping and can’t seem to form meaningful content at the moment.
I’m sure most of you have experienced issues of some sort with writing at some point or have had trouble sleeping for one reason or another to the point that you feel practically useless beyond the bare minimum.
So please, bear with me. My life is a bit of a train-wreck at the moment. I hope that it all straightens out soon.
Oh, and today is Paul’s birthday. We’re going to Mini-Me and The Pain’s for a cookout later today to celebrate. Maybe I’ll get some pics while we’re there if I can remember to charge my phone today, something I kept forgetting to do over and over yesterday.