At the last full moon I took part in a fabulous ritual with some new-ish friends (I will share some of the ritual secrets – it involved a broken elbone, fanning a doorbell disguised as a smoke alarm, and consuming Baba Ghanoush and Absinthe. So mote it be). My intent was to think about the things I wanted to manifest in my life over the next harvest season; all I could think was “I don’t want anything new. I want to get rid of some things. Simplify.”
- Holy hot damn, I’m behind. Not only on the stuff I promised to report here, but on Open Path lessons. Anybody up for lending a Witch a hand?
- I have two jobs (paying jobs that is – The Bad Witch defines ‘employment’ in capitalistic terms, sorry). I’d like to be able to dispense with both.
- I am starting a new grove (read, “local Pagan church”) in my area. Despite one lame person’s lame attempt at thwarting its progress, my fellowship is growing and we look forward to a wedding in May and our first festival at Beltane. Maybe. I hope. Either way, I have several meetings with new members this week and some more next week. It’s fabulous, but time consuming. Imma need some volunteers.
- I have parents. Enough said?
I have an online store. (Visit The Wyrd Sister @ www.rootsbwcraft.com.) I am prepping for a brick and mortar store. Well, The Bad Husband is. Thank Goddesses. If only this could ramp up just a smidge, I could hire someone to do the paperwork.
I intended to have The Bad Witch Files novel ready for the publisher by now but a weird holiday season took me by surprise. Gimme a couple of weeks.
- I need to take seven animals to the vet. Thank goodness Dr. Nicevet visits the barn or I’d have nine. Everybody’s behind on something. ‘Cept the horses. Thanks to Dr. Nicevet and Barnlady. Sure would be nice to have a vet who makes housecalls.
- I’m married. Oh, we are fully embracing veganism this year (rather than our usual pescetarianism or “Hey, I’m tired; let’s order out”-ism).
- I also intended to update the status of Magos (a.k.a. The Magical Geek Journal), but alas, I haven’t gotten to that fire. Unfortunately, I may need to let this one fizzle out for a while.
- Three kids. Teenagers. One driving. Extracurricular everything. “I need . . . I need . . . I need . . .” Along with being The Bad Witch, I’m also The Cool
- I have friends that want to see me in several parts of the country and I only have one vaca. And The Bad Husband is trying to woo me off to NOLA. Guess who will win? The man who made The Wyrd Sister and the-new-store-that-I-might-rename just because he adores me. Hand-grenades anyone? I could use about five weeks of vacation. And a driver.
- Four bathrooms. Six bedrooms. Two, yes two, kitchens. Laundry. Vegan. So, what – do I need a maid and a cook?
- I am committed to writing a “How To Deal With Pagans Without Getting Turned Into A Newt” manual for law enforcement and military personnel. I will get this done. But, again, damn.
- I have about twenty pages left in a novel written by a friend. Must finish.
- My alter room is a wreck.
- I haven’t practiced piano or bodhrán all year. (Broken belbow and all.)
- And it’s my turn on about seven games of Words With Friends!
So, at the Full Moon Rite I asked for the revelation of that thing that’s been irking me: the revelation of the Divine Feminine in a workable form in a way that “speaks” to me. All else is gravy.
But now, I see that I should have asked more explicitly for help.
I’m no good at asking for help.
But that’s OK. The universe knows what we need. No sooner did I realize that I could and should ask for help, it started rolling in. A friend offered to dispatch with a particularly nasty binding on my behalf, another friend offered to do some tedious data entry for me, I figured out a way to teach my “ground” class with minimal exertion and still maintain my high pedagogical standards, and The Bad Husband made supper.
Ta-da. Imma go play WWF and read that dang novel.
 I teach English in a traditional classroom. I teach Communications in an online environment for an art school. These are *sissy* jobs, to be sure. I only spend nine to ten hours a week on campus and I spend about five hours a week online. I have a new internet provider. Pfft. It takes me twice as long to do my work. I’m going back to my old provider next week. Balls.
Plus, I broke my elbow. This makes typing effing difficult. If you’ve heard from me over the last few weeks, it’s because I absolutely adore you more than air.
I’ve streamlined everything so that, even during hefty grading periods, I’m not “teaching” for more than twenty hours. I’ve done all of the prep for this semester over the past eleven years.
 I don’t want to get rid of them. And my momma is really minimally intrusive. But the guilt. I could do without the guilt.
 Not the cool mom that lets everybody do whatever whenever and with whatever – The Cool Mom that holds your hand as you go through a crisis, that cooks tofu tacos for the neighborhood every Friday and pre-Martin Luther King Day Sunday, that knows where you are on Friday night even if your bio-mom doesn’t, that makes fun of your little sister to her face on your behalf if she really has it coming, that provides you a place where you won’t get smacked around when your dad drinks too much . . . too specific, OK. You get the picture?
 These also, I do not want to get rid of.