Thursday Evening Potpourri

*I wrote the other day that I think that Earth Day should be a Pagan holiday. I see that I’m in poor company.

The Minnesota lawmaker who caught heat for comparing food stamp recipients to animals is creating quite the stir on Twitter by calling Earth Day a “Pagan holiday.”

“It absolutely infuriates me, celebration of a Pagan holiday, worship of Nature and not God’s nature,” Alexandria Representative Franson tweeted on [sic] Earth Day.

I hope Ms. Franson can find a way to love Earth. It’s not only her home. It is also, as far as we know, the only planet with lilacs, and chocolate, and lorakeets.

*Speaking of Earth Day, here’s one of my favorite prayers from Earth Prayers from Around the World: 365 Prayers, Poems, & Invocations for Honoring the Earth, edited by Eliz. Roberts and Elias Amidon.

My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me.
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.

Earth cure me. Earth receive my woe. Rock
strengthen me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain
wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt.
Sun make sweet my song. Sun receive the anger
from my heart.

Landscape Guy and I had dinner out on the porch this week and agreed: we’re both looking forward to that first warm Spring rain that we spend out in our gardens, getting drenched. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone.

*I’d be craven and ungrateful if I were to fail to note that Eschaton reached, this week, it’s ten-year anniversary. I wasn’t there at the very beginning, although I have been there for nine of the ten years. I still remember that Son and I were sitting on the patio at Morton’s, having dinner, when he told me about these things called “blogs,” and suggested that I’d like one written by a guy called “Atrios.” He went on to describe in detail Atrios’ post that has come to be known as “Preznit Give Me Turkee.” When I first began commenting, I’m sure that Atrios smacked his forehead and figured that the worst thing that could happen to his credibility was to have a Witch as a regular. Atrios eventually did me the honor of letting me guest post (and didn’t kill me for almost blowing up his blog while he was in Europe). And that, as Mr. Frost once explained, has made all the difference. And, Atrios has put up with me for lo these many years and has taught me more about critical reading (and, ok, curb cuts) than I ever learned in school. Eschaton has been a home for me; many of my dearest friends live there. Thank you, Professor Black. Here’s to the next ten years.

*With my tax dollars. In my name. Because I wasn’t able to figure out how to stop this. I marched and I wrote letters and, in the end, I didn’t stop this. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. I don’t know what else to say. At least the Catholics gave me this one phrase.

*War is one of the inevitable byproducts of empire, just as empire is one of the inevitable byproducts of patriarchy. And if we’re talking about war, and empire, and patriarchy, I guess that we’re talking about politics. If you subscribe to Witches & Pagans Magazine, you’ve already received the email newsletter noting that I’ll be writing a regular column on Magic & Politics. In the eNewsletter, I explain that:

I can’t come to politics any way except as to the great dance, the truly fun thing, the interesting double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble. Born of second-wave feminism, I can’t come to politics any way except by acknowledging that all politics is personal, local, micro.

I hope you’ll subscribe or buy the magazine and dance (in true Emma Goldman fashion) with me as we explore the overlap between magic and politics. This should be an interesting discussion. We can, as Mr. Denver said, find a better way.

*Later this month, G/Son is going to come to stay with me for almost a week while his ‘rents get a much-deserved vacation. I’m busily planning our schedule, but what I mostly want is some lazy time, some time for us to just be together. Do you have special memories of time spent with a nonna or aunt or other relative? What one thing would you like to go back and do over again? What one story would you like to hear re-read?

Photo (of the interior of a black day lily) by the blogger; if you copy, please link back.

3 responses to “Thursday Evening Potpourri

  1. My grandma lived in Scotland — in Burns Country. My favorite memories revolve around food and shopping for groceries — which arrived in old creaky vans and we would walk down the walkway and buy veggies from the grocer in the van. She would have friends for tea or dinner or supper (three different meals) and they would tell stories and laugh. One dear friend would bring fresh caught salmon to her (he was a wonderful fly fisherman) We went on picnics in the “lead hills” (it is mining country) and drink hot tea from “flasks” (thermos) and I could wander through the heather and talk to the sheep. Yes — even small children were allowed to drink tea — usually with lots of milk and sugar! LOL! She loved gardens and could tell you all about the important things like “guid fresh earth” What did I learn? Things like “Stir with a knife, stir in strife”; “Never look at the New Moon through glass”; “No new shoes on the table”; “Never walk widdershins around the auld kirkyard” and “leave a bit for the fairies” And “cream left out will be gone with the fairies” She could read the tea leaves — and was well trained in sign language for the Deaf. She loved music and could play the harp.

  2. I had a very special Aunt and Uncle that I spent a lot of time with as a child. Sadly, I lost my Uncle “Cheese” when I was only 10 years old to cancer. He was only about 40 years old then. But when I was little, I would stay at their house a lot and he would sit with me on the cool porch drinking a glass of buttermilk and we would listen to approaching cars on the road in front of the house and try to guess what color they were. It was a fun game, and back then, you had to make the rule of whether two-tone cars would count. If it was red with a white top and you said “red” did that count? He was so WONDERFUL and I still miss him and my aunt a LOT. She taught me to sew, and would take me to see my maternal grandmother, who was very much like a wise woman. Also, she would tuck me in at night and read to me out of a big book of fairy tales.

    How I miss those days!

  3. While I am not a current subscriber, I would consider doing so just to have the opportunity to read more of your prose. Warm rains are a guilty pleasure of mine as well. We had low spot on the yard where I grew up and spring and summer rains turned it into a warm pond with tadpoles, peepers, mosquitoes, and water dancer bugs. I loved to listen to the life in there after a rain.

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