Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Mercury-Ruled

What happens when your partner's Mercury-ruled? You get to fight fire air with motherfucking fire air. Three cheers for Italics and the two sleepless nights he spent working on my computer to make it virus-free, and to anyone who felt momentarily bad for me. (<- Pity TOTALLY counts as prayers in my book!)

Now that this week's retrograde crisis is over Graveyard Dirt can return to it's Harvest-driven schedule. Normally I don't hint about future content, but since this is a Site Shit post it gives me a rare chance to step out of journal entry mode.

With that being said, I'm: prepping for Bolete Lesson #3 (how to preserve), getting ready to announce GD's first ever giveaway (hint: it involves homework; have you been doing yours?), selecting a few more wild edible recipes to share (mushrooms, raspberries and maybe even gooseberries) and clearing space in my crazy fucking week to finally sit the fuck down and finish up a parade of delayed promises and projects (i.e., dressing up jam jars and hooch bottles, decanting and decorating some of last year's toadstool oil, sending away packages and a stupid amount bone cleaning).

Supermoon Altar

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If I tell y'all a secret, do you promise not to burn me for blasphemy? (Don't think I don't know how this relationship ends, Internet. Bad things happen when your arrival's celebrated with palm leaves and rejoicing.) I'm not so hot on the moon. There, I said it. In addition to not worshipping any gods/goddesses - or considering myself pagan - my goto celestial body is the sun. (<- Strike three for Ms. Graveyard Dirt! Watch my witchcraft cred plummet like some bad fucking stock.)

The moon isn't for me; it's for Italics. It's his opposite, as the sun's mine. As Darkness I crave Light (I'm totally a day person who seriously goes stir-fucking-crazy if I don't get enough natural light), and as Light he craves Darkness (he, unsurprisingly, is more of a night person who isn't as affected by the lack of natural light). Our opposites complete us, so it isn't that much of a stretch to understand why I'd intuitively reach out to the heavenly body that's associated most with masculine qualities. (Unconvinced? Just ask Diana; homegirl knows all about Darkness coveting Light.)

It's not that the moon isn't present, or doesn't play an active role in my life or beliefs, because fuck if I don't experience firsthand the very special type of lunacy that comes with being ruled - emotionally, spiritually, mentally, physically - by Luna. It's a wild, feral, untamed energy that I can't harness or control, and more often than not it has me screaming and thrashing around like a rabid fucking beast until I get that rampaging animal out. It's worse during full moons, it's especially bad if I'm nocturnal during a full moon, and it's terrifyingly unnatural if I'm nocturnal during a full moon and I'm on my first week of contraceptive pills.

Because the moon brings out the worst in me - the worst which I can't control - I've done everything from gingerly tiptoeing around it to shoving it into a lockable vault and throwing away the key. (<- Proof you don't need to be emotionally mature to be a witch!) It's not the most conducive environment for personal growth, but at least I realize my instinctual reaction to block the moon's influence is a coping mechanism (and, admittedly, an avoidance tactic).

(Translation: I'm not dumb, I'm lazy and willful. And I JUST manage to get away with it because the Universe seems to like "willful". Or, at least, my homegrown version of willful.)

The pill I'm taking is a 3 week cycle with about a week off so I can have my "period". (It's not a really-for-real period, but I bleed for several days every 24-28 days and that's good enough for me. In fact, that was the deal breaker - I'd go on the pill, but only if it allowed me to have a natural seeming cycle since menstruation is crazy important to my flavor of witchcraft.) After 8 days of being off the pill I begin taking them again for the next 21 days, and holy fuck if the first 1/2 of the first week isn't hell on fucking earth (for both me and anyone who needs to be in close proximity to my raging ass).

Rather than experiencing one or two days of intense PMS symptoms before my period, I now get super ramped PMS symptoms that last for nearly a week. There's no fucking doubt in anyone's mind as to what the contributing factor is because it's so goddamn obvious. I'm fine until I take my first pill, and then within 2 motherfucking hours everything changes. Towards the end of the first week the emotional side affects taper down, and by the second week - which is a different set of pills - you'd never guess that I spent the last 7 days terrorizing NE Scotland with my more-beast-than-woman hormonal routine.

So, for reasons stated above, this entire household cringes when I'm about to go on my contraceptive again, and when we're about to get hit with a full fucking moon. And when the two converge? Sheer fucking white-faced panic. (Why they don't shoot me in the ass with a tranquilizer dart is beyond fucking me; it's not like I couldn't use the extra fucking sleep.) Nothing, we thought, could be worse than a grand conjunction of nocturnal mode, full moon and first week of pills...but we were wrong. We were supermoon wrong.

When I took the last effing pill on the 11th of March I counted out my 8 days on the calendar and my restart day - because the Universe enjoys a good fucking LOL! - was the 19th, the day/night of the supermoon. (<- That's not fucking coincidence, that's the Lamb breaking open one of the first motherfucking seals.) But wait! It gets better! On the 19th the full moon was the closest it's been in nearly 20 effing years, which meant without a fallout bunker Italics and my in-laws were woefully unprepared for the unholy union of hormones, autism and repressed lunar rage.

To say I was apprehensive about the event would be the understatement of the fucking year/decade/existence, but it seemed like a major fucking waste to not tap into what was going on - and I didn't feel like kicking myself for benching my own ass - so I reluctantly acknowledged the full moon's positioning by dragging out anything I wanted consecrated by Luna. As light faded I began grouping objects and tools in front of the backroom's patio door, where rays of moonlight would fall through unobstructed glass and illuminate my most treasured possessions as they rested on the floor. (<- Not exactly my standard altar, but this one had a unique purpose so I'm going to let the unsymmetrical, yard sale-lookin' mess slide. For once.)

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I don't know if it's entirely obvious, but my supermoon altar was composed of 3 separate categories: my tools, objects that celebrate a certain aspect of the divine female and super personal magic items that I wanted sanctified by the grace of the moon.

The first altar tier was dedicated to the tools that I use in daily life and in all of my witchcraft-based practices. Resting on my newly acquired vintage tea towel (which is a ritual item within itself, it's already been used to create an impromptu altar at the foot of a sacred hill as we performed an engagement rite on the Spring Equinox): a knife given to me this past Christmas by my godchildren's parents, two vintage trivets I use when burning incense (one's for roadkill work and the other's for more personal affairs), my deer bell to call my spectral herd, a stag candleholder which I use like trivet'n'stand, the miniature enamel casserole pot I burn resin-based incense in, my antique goat's bell (I wear it during sex rites; if I'm already doing the entire fertility goat thang I might as well wear a goat's bell while doing it), the all-too-familiar sickle, a handmade, boline-like knife given to me by a very generous friend (it was originally made for her), the scalpel I use when skinning/working with roadkill, a vegetable kitchen knife for my wildcrafting adventures (the curved blade is excellent for cutting/peeling mushrooms), my crazy-important ritual scissors (I'm more of a scissor witch than knife witch; I'm a sucker for super functional shit) and my machete which usually lives right next to our bedroom door. (<- Yes, that IS a warning and a threat, uninvited guests.)

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More of the tools that I use in daily life and in all of my witchcraft-based practices: my make-up brushes (I rarely wear make-up, so when I do it's usually because something big's about to go down, and on those occasions I use make-up to create a living mask of the persona I'm preparing to embody), my ritual apron (the first time we celebrated Hieros Gamos I wore seven layers of clothing which were gradually removed during the sacred rite, the Scottish-themed apron - the clothing of a married woman - was one of those layers), a rectangular slab of slate taken from the threshold of a ruined chapel (used like a trivet, incense burner and cutting board) and sitting on top of them all is my goat whip broom that's groaned beneath the weight of my naked, fat ass on many a Walpurgisnacht.

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The second altar tier was dedicated to objects that I felt celebrated the divine female, but more specifically a certain aspect of the divine female that I'm stupidly deficient in. I have She-Who-Wears-Pants war-like aggression in spades, but what I lack is the merciful, nurturing patience present in goddesses like the Virgin Mary (and even Hathor despite her infamous moodiness). While the moon's a source of madness, it's also a source of a sort've Zen compassion and if I could only strike a slight balance between the two I know I could curb my werewolf curse.

Sitting on my wooden tray: Tawaret, Ephesian Artemis, the Blessed Virgin, the small figure of Kadesh bears my gold Czarina earrings (they once belonged to Alexandra), there's a small statue of Hathor partially hidden by a ring box fitted with my wedding ring and my new Lent purity/engagement ring, cutlery that'll eventually be used when I make a special table setting for our ancestors, the first piece of pentacle jewelry I ever bought (I bought the ring last year and wear it inverted on my left thumb for the LOLs), the large intaglio lapis goat pendant is normally worn with my chain link bra (another one of my 7 bridal layers), the sculpted vulva is actually a handmade cicada pendant with a feminine twist, the square pendant is a handmade Hail Mary sigil-made-jewelry and the cock'n'lady charm is a Thai fertility pendant.

Within the wooden bowl is my female chalice (there's a hole in the handle that's yoni-shaped), 2 effigies of me (one slightly more tongue-in-cheek than the other), 3 eggs (the first to be laid this year by battery-rescued hens; they're being saved so I can blow them out for pysanky) and everything's sitting on a bloodied kitchen towel that I normally wrap my ritual scissors and knives in. (<- When I accidentally stabbed myself with the scissors a few years back I applied pressure to the wound using that towel, and I've kept my ritual blades wrapped up in it ever since).

To the top right of the bowl is an antique statue of the Virgin Mary, and hung on the spires of the statue are pieces of female orientated jewelry: my moonstone ring that once belonged to my mother, and a triad of pendants - a quartz crystal, a teardrop-shaped piece of moonstone and a yoni-shaped religious medal of the Virgin - I almost never leave home without. To the bottom right of the bowl is a 18th century silver beaker depicting the Blessed Mother brandishing a sword amidst angelic hosts (no, seriously), and my carved head of Hathor peeks out of the antique cup all Oscar the fucking Grouch-style.

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The third and final altar tier was dedicated to super personal magic items that I wanted sanctified by the grace of the moon. Those objects included: my wooden foraging basket (it performs an amazing trick), two boxes of seeds (of poisons, medicines and entheogens), the Santa Muerte black rabbit (see Year of the Rabbit), my ritual Bean Nighe bowl and #01's skull (which is now slowly drying in a dark, cool room). The ass-shaped sabbat cake (it has the combined sexual fluids of both Italics and I), bar of dark sea salt chocolate and shot of my homemade plum liqueur were offerings left for Luna in thanks for the blessings bestowed on my most sacred of possessions.

Scottish Supermoon

Images courtesy of Italics (and the new camera he got me):

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Supermoon Eve

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An almost-but-not-quite-yet full supermoon peers through juniper branches as it rises over the pyramid-shaped roof of Murder House.

Midsummer Evening, October Morning

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A flawless Midsummer evening on an chilly October morning. (When morning is night, and night is morning.)

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The crescent moon hangs like a luminous sickle; a heavenly reminder that Harvest, for me, isn't over.

Jove's Incense

"..and some of my (pubic) hair, so he never forgets the scent of my pussy." *snip*

Saturn Return

See you in another 30 years, old man Saturn.

Phew!

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"The soap is formed in such a way that it keeps a balance in skin types of all Zodiac signs pertaining to both the sexes."

Our Saturn Return

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VERY FUNNY, UNIVERSE. *EYEROLL* (<- Sometimes I feel like my life validates astrology even though I constantly dismiss it as a emotional crutch in disguise.)

Crazy But Fun

On the 11th of this month, a day after the first full moon of the year, both Mercury and Ceres go retrograde. (CERES, WUT? I KNOW, ME TOO.) It's the third phase of Cancer, and the moon enters Leo just before one in the afternoon.

(BREAK IT DOWN NOW, Y'ALL...)

OH, 2009, ALREADY MAKING THINGS INTERESTING. (PAPA SAID IT WAS GOING TO BE A "CRAZY BUT A FUN YEAR", AND I GUESS THE MAN WASN'T LYING. EXAGGERATING, PROBABLY, BUT NOT LYING.)

AND CERES?

AND, ALSO:

(OH, HEY, CERES' SIGN IS A SICKLE. <- IS A SUPER GENIUS WHO JUST NOTICED THAT.)

"THIRD PHASE OF CANCER" I'LL TAKE AS A NOD TOWARDS THE ENTIRE HERMIT/SOLITUDE THING (GOING INWARD, AHOY!). AND, LOL, LET'S NOT EVEN CONTEMPLATE THE IMPLICATIONS OF TAKING THE MOON ENTERING LEO AS THE MOON, IN TAROT CARD FORM, UNITING WITH STRENGTH.

OH, IT'S GOING TO BE "CRAZY BUT FUN", AIN'T IT PAPA?

Sources:
ArtCharts.Com
AstrologyCom.Com
Retrograde Zone

The Last Reap

Harvest Moon in Pisces? I like that.

Thirty Minutes After

I stopped it from raining last night.

(It held for an evening and thirty minutes; it waited for a shower and a beer. I pulled Our apron tight - high above the stars - and We cradled the rain against Our body, against Ourselves, with arms unwavering as the clouds billowed and rolled below Us. The Universe said "YOU DID THIS. YOU DID THIS, YOURSELF." and I laughed and I cried while we watched my rain from the kitchen windows, after a shower, after a beer - thirty minutes after I looked up at the sky and said "NOW IT CAN RAIN!" as the blood and semen and spit and wine sank into the earth where there were roots without sheaves of wheat.)

Aquarius Lunar Eclipse

Tonight I Reaped.

Solar Eclipse in Leo

Yanked all of the relevant bits from an eclipse article found on AstrologyCom.Com. (OH, INTERNET, HOW IS IT POSSIBLE YOU CAN BE SO GOOD EVEN WHEN YOU'RE SO BAD?)

Eclipse in Leo
This eclipse occurs at 9°32' of Leo the Lion, conjunct Mercury the divine messenger, so, being a Friday, the party vibes will be fabulous! It awakens the nebulous cluster of The Aselli, the Asses, being closely conjunct Asellus Australis, South Asellus (a star of the Sun and Mars), which is considered less than fortunate. It is also conjunct Giansar a star of Saturn and Mars in the tail of Draco, but one which is less aggressive. This star is often symbolized by the Tarot Card "Death", which stands for the sweeping away of old things, to make room for a brand new beginning.

According to Vehlow, the Chinese gave this group of stars the name The Spirit of the Ancestors and were of the opinion that, if conjunct the Moon, they would produce peculiar experiences with the realms of the dead. Since the eclipse involves both Sun and Moon, it might be an interesting time for a séance! The Aselli are representative of the Sun and Moon, so their prominence in this figure is increased, but the need for caution, especially in travel, business and with fire is emphasized. The Aselli could be seen as fortunate in that they do represent the Lights, but their effects are not always as enjoyable as they could be!

Mars and Mercury
This eclipse does lie in the shadow of the upcoming Mars/Uranus opposition on August 6, suggesting it would be a waste of time to try and coordinate group efforts. This aspect is aggravated by the simultaneous opposition between Mercury and Neptune, which advises us not attempt anything that requires logic and clear thinking! A warning for the organizers of the Beijing Festivities: information and ideas may be illusive, intentionally deceptive, or even quite dangerous. Making a wise decision, or finding out the truth, is well-nigh impossible. It's not that good for travelling over water, photography, business transactions, or spiritual studies and activities.

Solar eclipses don't often pass over populated areas, but when they do, they appear to have significant disruptive effects on the people and nations concerned (e.g., economic or political crises, civil unrest). My colleague, Ian Thurnwald, points out that Solar Eclipses also seem either to trigger or amplify natural events in the regions they affect (e.g., severe weather, earthquakes). Whether this effect is an astrological one or not, is a moot point, though recent scientific work on the effects of the Moon on earthquakes and other terrestrial phenomena is interesting. No doubt they would hasten to deny any astrological effect! See my article on Moon Wobbles. The eclipse being in Leo means that people with Fixed signs (Aquarius; Leo; Scorpio; Taurus) featured in their birth charts are more likely to be affected. The next eclipse of the Sun will be on January 26, 2009.

So It Begins

A close friend of mine explained to me, years ago, that in astrology your ascent almost describes the way others see you. Since then I’ve always read my ascent horoscope (Leo) as MY INTERNET LIFE because I work at home so the majority of interpersonal relationships happen over the net. This is this week’s message to Leo, courtesy of Jonathon Cainer (LOL! "CAINER"! LOL!):

Your Week Ahead: Imagine training your whole life long to be a concert pianist. One day, to amuse some children, you improvise a couple of merry melodies. Your performance is greeted with such rapture, that word of it spreads far and wide. Suddenly, you are in demand, but not for the ability that means so much to you. There's something a little irritating and exasperating about this week's great advantage. It is not quite the one you were hoping for. It is, though, nonetheless, an edge that can prove extremely useful to you. Be glad of what 'is'. Forget what 'ought to be'.

Oh, Lord, I just caught my daily horoscope:

Your Day Ahead: Nature is much more generous than society. Where people tend not to allow one another too many fresh starts and new beginnings, she positively hands them round like sweets. She does a wonderful line in new seasons, new moons and new dawns. To say nothing of new breaths. Every few seconds we make a symbolic fresh beginning. Today, the sky breathes in and out. A glorious Solar Eclipse speaks of a change which, though difficult to accept at first, leads to renewal, success and joy.

So it begins.

(At least I’m on the right track?)