I have a tealight holder. It’s one of those black, dollar-store things that show up around Hallowe’en – in this case, shaped like a bat.
Yes, a bat.
Kind of like this, but on a long, narrow pedistal/stick stand instead of two little feet.
I picked it up in my early twenties when I was setting up my first (disasterous) apartment and was very much trying to do Gothic Miss Martha on a budget of $0.00. (There were a lot of fairy-lights and Pre-Raphaelite prints involved as well). I go back and forth as to whether or not I should get rid of it, and it’s landed in my “to the thrift store” bag on more than one occasion, only to be pulled out again for one reason or another.
Most recently (as in: this morning) I rescued it from my latest good-will bag because it occurred to me that, given my nervous interest in trying to get in touch with Big-B Bat (is this a date, or is this Just Coffee?), it might be an appropriate tool for doing so.
What I’ve done:
1) Lit up all my altars + lit candles on my two honey pots. (This is not strictly necessary, but it lets everyone else know I’m thinking of them – and, hey, feeding the honey pots is always a good idea, particularly when the Hustle is on and I’m also trying to write (another) steampunk-erotica story).
2) Cleaned up my bat-shaped tea-light holder.
3) Sprinkled the inside of the tealight cup with coarse salt and set a (very small) bay leaf inside it.
4) Added a tealight and put the whole shebang on my nightstand.
5) Had a quick chat with Bat using the candle-holder’s “face” as a sort of telephone receiver, letting hir know that (a) I’m under the impression that some kind of contact was being made, and (b) if zi’s got something helpful or important to say to me, that zi’s welcome to come have a chat with me in my dreams but that zi’s not to bring anyone else along with hir. (… I’m so trusting…)
6) Lit the tealight.
It’s currently doing its thing in the other room, and we’ll see what my dreams bring me, if anything, over the next little while.
We’ll see what happens.
TTFN,
Meliad the Birch Maiden.
Urban Meliad 