Daily Archives: January 15, 2012

Small Kindnesses (New Year, New You)

So. Last week’s injunction to Relax, Don’t Do It in the name of avoiding New Years Resolution mania and burn-out was… okay.

Or possibly not.

I didn’t actually do anything Super-Extra-Special for me. Which is not to say I didn’t do anything nice, it’s just that I try to do Nice Things for myself (and, okay, my partner) just in general.

I can sing my own praises well enough — got through the initial Hard Bit of my second stocking extension (and it seems to be the right width, so good). Bought my girlfriend’s anniversary present (should arrive in plenty of time) and am feeling Very Excited about the likelihood that she’ll like it a whole bunch. Took a shiatsu class with my girl (thanks, Groupon); Tqaught a friend to knit. Made a Nice Dinner (or two) — and burnt myself all over half of my face while doing so (woops)[1] — Came up with a tasty new cupcake recipe; started Educational Reading for both my kink endevors and my magical endevors[2] and have been taking the time to Actually Read Them(!!!); …and similar. But I haven’t made a big point of doing something Special just for me.
Although I did buy myself a chocolate bar. Which is something, although not a Big Hairy Deal of a something.
Anyway.

I think this is… weird.
I mean, I’m a sensual headonist. Doing nice things for myself is basically at the core of my life’s mission[3]. And yet it’s so much easier to do Nice Things for myself when they come with added Virtue OR added participants. Making a nice dinnner for the two of is includes making a nice dinner for myself… but I’m unlikely to do it just for me. Reading a novel in a coffee shop while drinking cappuccino and nibbling chocolate-hazelnut biscotti is… glorious. But I tend to feel ever-so-slightly guilty about doing it when I could be reading (or, um, working) at home where I can make the cookies myself and the coffee costs me a tenth of what would cost in Bridgehead.

So, yeah.

Maybe I will make myself slippers or something. I don’t know.

Anyway. That’s where I stand on that particular prompt. 😛

TTFN,
Meliad the Birch Maiden.

[1] I’m fine. I was making borscht – the poet I was hosting for Voices of Venus turned out to be vegetarian. Woops – and the lid of the blender decided not to seal properly (I swear I pushed it all the way down), most likely because it was a little too full – and I ended up getting sprayed with hot (though thankfully not boiling) beat soup. Some quick thinking with lavender essential oil, followed by a lot of cold compresses and some aloe-vera gel (and in ibuprofen) meant that the swelling and – more to the point – the pain were mostly down and gone within four hours. It’s not likely that I’ll scar, let alone sustain Actual Dammage. So it’s all good.

[2] I got At Her Feet: Powering Your Femdom Relationship for the kinky D/s stuff (so far, so good, further thoughts coming soon to Syrens) and, more relevant to this blog, I got To Fly By Night: Craft of the Hedgewitch, some early thinky-thoughts on-which can be found over here.

[3] Not to mention it’s my major goal for this whole New Year, New You project…

Bat inna Jar

So I was visiting a friend-of-a-friend the other day and, on her Bookshelf o’ Neat Stuff[1], I saw that she has a mummified[2] bat in a jar.

As sometimes happens with Stuff Like This[3] it was kind of humming/buzzing at me. The the air got thick or similar. It’s… I’ve read on a couple of blogs (Root and Rock, The Witch of Forest Grove) that (preserved?) Dead Stuff can be talkative.

Now I’m hard of hearing – in the literal sense, yes, but also in the “picking up signals with my not-so-physical ears” sense. So when this happens, my usual reaction is “Huh… That’s… unusual…” followed by backing away slowly. Most things, y’see, don’t get through. Which means that it’s a little disconcerting when something does.

So. Here’s where I’m at:
Something (an incredibly cute flying something with tiny little fingers and a love of fruit… peaches?… and mosquitos) buzzed at me strongly enough for me to heat it.
Huh.
Now what?
I mean, she(?) is on someone’s shelf. Someone who doesn’t really do “Woo”. So I don’t see myself as *likely* to be going and talking to it/her particularly much. But even if I could… would I?
Because, yes, I’m afraid of not getting an answer. But I’m also afraid of getting one.

I’ve been looking up what Bat-as-metaphor “means” and… zi seems to have a lot in common with the stuff that gets said about Scorpios. Dredging up burried stuff, facing fears, death-and-rebirth stuff, seeing to the heart of things, being aware of patterns, transition, initiation, and change. As well as… luck, sexuality(??) and intuition. (See: here, here, here, and here for where I got my (dubious) information).

Which is… apt given where I’m at in my life and what I want to be doing with my religious/magical practice, my writing, and the continued building of my own multi-layered business.

So.

Given all that, maybe I need to try my hand at meeting and interacting with Bat.

I’ll most likely poke at this a little more and see where I go with it.

TTFN,
Meliad the Birch Maiden.

[1] Not a “wunderkammer”. The gal ain’t steampunk by any stretch of the imagination. Just a bookshelf with stone eggs and blown glass and other nifty bits and pieces on it.

[2] “Mummified” may not be the right word. “Wholely and utterly dried out” would be the right word. But “mummified” is the term she used.

[3] Very Dead Things that are still in one piece and likely to stay that way? Maybe? Not sure if “mammal” is a requirement here but “vertibrate” might be… Don’t know.