And a side order of ego to go, please......

There are so many of you out there that practice the craft. I look to many of you for wisdom that my solitary practice does not include. I have learned so much from you. I've learned to look at things from a different perspective, new herb uses, charms and even some new approaches to what it is I do daily. I share my heart with you and you with me.

I am a solitary eclectic so that affords me a lot of wiggle room. It suits me best. Being the Aries, rule breaking, bossy broad I am. I also am ruled by Venus and am sort of crusty with a mooshy center.....like a "cherry mash" candy from long, long ago. So therefore I have also taken many of you as my own. My sistas from another mother and my long lost love children in fate.

And I am so very grateful for the priviledge as both.

But there is a piece of my old soul that is called to be wanted and needed. So many of us are really that way if we get down to essence of it all. I need the Goddess and she then allows me to be needed in kind. That is my ego. That is my calling and my true joy.

I have a friend, whom I have been blessed to know for some decades now. She and I float around each other in time. We see each other but not all the time. She is a very generous soul and I have watched her be taken advantage of. She knows it but it doesn't seem to phase her. I bristle for her. I have done works for her to shield her from harm, without her knowledge because I care for her, but I never told her.

She recently call upon me to do some works for her. She said she knew I could help. I wept as I read the email. You see I never thought she realized how dear she was to me. Nor did I think she really needed me or wanted my help. Seems I was wrong. She is one of the only friends from my BWT before witchy time that knew and never batted an eye. But she also never asked for anything.

So many others just vanished without so much as a fair thee well. Worse were the ones who questioned, berated, then abandoned the woman who is the same woman I always was only much improved because of AWT after witchy time. I am not ashamed of my awakening to my path. I am a practicioner of earth magic, believer of the power of the universe, herbs, works of the heart and protections of others. I defend Gaia, her babes, be they human or animal or plant. I use my being to do for others and I am paid for such. No, not in moneys or trade but by what comes back to me from my works. I trust that I have been and will be again. I honor the ancestors and the gods. I am me.

And when I am needed...........I soar.

Yes, this post is egotistical.......so mote it be.

The old me versus the really older me.......

 

The photo of me in the groovy red pant suit is just before I married Joe in 1972. We had gone to Colorado and were at the Royal Gorge. Joe is afraid of heights and the Royal Gorge Bridge as you can see behind me in the photo is really high up over the gorge. Bless his heart, even height didn't keep him from doing what I wanted to do......it was a little longer coming back to the other side though. I thought we were going to have to spend the night there. Poor fella, love makes ya do dumb things.

 

After talking about my hippy self and sorority girl self here, alter egos in college, I was asked by a nosey lot of you to show my old self. Never in a million years did I think that doing so would cause such emotion inside me. And I'm not unhappy about that. It was good to do some soul cleaning in some of the dark recesses of my mind. I just didn't expect it to affect me so. After all, I was only looking for old pictures. Right? uh......yeah.

 

If you had said to me that I still had baggage from that time in my life, I would have called you nutz. My trauma didn't come from that time. It was when I was a young child. By the time I got into college I was pretty screwed up alright but had already learned the social cues to getting along. I must have been pretty good at it because I lead a double life. Actually, as I have come to realize, I've been doing that since I was very young. I wouldn't call it telling untruths....I would call it keeping the truth at bay.

 

Being a child of sexual and verbal abuse has given me a life of double edged swords. On the one side, I have been angry for much of my life. Acted out that anger in all the wrong places. Haven't trusted when I should have. And didn't believe my own worth and value (I still work on that one daily but I am so much better). On the other side of the sword, I have always had compassion for the wronged. Loved working with teens because I never got past that mind set of me against the world (honest, it was a great thing for being able to get inside their heads and ignore camoflage behavior). Now I can relate to so many people who also were forced to live a hidden life. And am equipped to be the Oma to children who needed me to be able to understand. That part I wish were not true but I am glad I do have the experiential knowledge to see their points of view. 

 

The reason I am sharing this with you is because of a new lesson I learned. I can. That's it.

 

I have had boxes of pictures of my childhood, teenage years, young married life and all of them were frightening to me. I didn't know what kind of muck I would stir up if I were to look at them. Well now I know.......lots of muck, some scary feelings, some smiles, some "what was I thinking?" and also some (and this one is the most amazing) wow, I wasn't nearly as ugly as I thought I was.

 

My Mother had a saying that has stuck with me up to this moment...."Don't be ugly Linda Sybil". That is what she would say to make me behave, come around to her way of thinking, not embarrass her, be who she wished I was. Which was thin, pretty, charming, and smart. The thing is...after all these years I wish I could have told her that I wasn't ugly and that 3 out of 4 ain't bad. I have always been pretty, charming and smart in my own way with a side order of chubby.

 

I need to thank Stacy, Magaly and Debra for asking me to share what I looked like when I was younger. If it had not been for your sweet curiousity, I would not have worked out one of the last of the puzzle pieces that makes me.......authentically me. I also have to thank Marie Segal for posting a link on Facebook to EFT(Emotional Freedom Technique) link here.....http://youtu.be/X4EDgTc0AyQ tapping may be my new drug. It is so soothing and calming. The whole Cuckoo clan is taking advantage of it...(check it out) Blessings to all.

 

And don't think I haven't worked every  protection on all that old stuff, juju abounded and is now contained. My mood is growing stronger with the approach of the full moon.....my moon, the one that will set my "okness" free.

 

 

 



There are few things that are more disappointing than....being left out....

This is gonna be great fun. Hi, my friends and loved ones call me Oma Linda and I don't much care what others call me. But unfortunately, I can't play because my blog wasn't included in the list.....even though I got an email that indicated that it would be. Don't ya hate that when it happens??????? But I will leave the post up because 3 of you found me somehow anyway and that's good enough.

I get to introduce myself all over again for any new readers who may be coming to Ye Olde Crones Gazette from the Grow your Blog party.

And for my loyal readers, who I am so very grateful to for being here with me on this blog and Olde Baggs n Stuft Shirts, we'll just pretend that I am answering questions for a blog award. And in fact it is like an award. I would love for more folks to be able to join us as we enjoy each others company, friendship, and love. There's lots of love here and for that....I will be eternally grateful.

I am (or will be in the spring) a 64 year old mother of a beautiful daughter Michelle Leigh (Shelley), grandmother to the object of my obsession grands, GK my soulmate, root beer colored eyed compatriot in crime (I am the Omalator and she is my side kick Annoying Girl) and RyLeigh my special boy who is the family philosopher with his "inside, outside, upside down Aspergian thinking". I have been married since before there was hair to Sweet Man and we knew even knew each other as children. So it has been for bloody ever my dears.

I taught children and youth for 20+ years....it was the + that gave me my grey hair. Love to dabble in too many kinds of art and am constantly destashing because of my short attention span. Am a solitary practitioner of herb, candle and imagery magic. And now am totally addicted to blogging, laughing, collecting, computering and friendships. Here's something you may not know....I have 5 blogs....just like potato chips, you can't just have one.

I write fantasy, here's a link to the beginning of a series of gypsy tales, I love being a part of other's blog parties, I host my own blog party to Celebrate Oz (if you are interested in joining us on March 15th, here's the sign up and information link). I love to go junking with my daughter, adore donkeys, turtles, reading, sewing, and I love to cook.....thus the extra bit of me to love.

Currently I am obsessed with felting the wool from used clothing.....coats, jackets, skirts, and my faves......sweaters. I am in process of perfecting (yeah well close enough) a pattern for some lovely donkeys to put into my etsy shop.

I began this journey on blogging as a way to connect with other like minded folks.....instead I find that I have such a wonderfully eclectic covey of friends that sometimes the only thing we have in common is the love of each other and my horizons have been stretched. It has been so exciting to share snail mail, presents, thoughts, sympathies, victory celebrations, hopes and wishes with those that I now call friend. I have learned so many valuable lessons. I've met a few "lovelies" in person. Spoken to some on the phone (I love that connection) and shared life with all it's highs, lows and in betweens.

Leave me a comment, I'll enter you in the giveaway of either the moonshine wand or the sunflower glow wand. Go and leave a comment on Olde Baggs n Stuft Shirts and you will have another chance to win. Just like all the other blogs, I'll select and announce the winners on February 1st.

It's been fun having you visit and I hope to hear from you again.....or you can just lurk and that's cool too.

Smooches and Squoozes, Oma Linda

Old Age is a gift......

I read the most amazing quote this morning at Mary's blog and thought I'd direct you to it because it is so poignant. So please go to Maiden, Mother and CRONE and enjoy.  And then come back here and tell me, what you look forward to when You are "old" or what is the best part about getting "older".

Not long ago, Shelley my daughter and I were having a discussion about menapausal symptoms and how they are not a lot of fun. I suggested that because she was having some symptoms that she might try wild yam etc, etc. I said after all honey you are getting older. She being upset by that prospect yelled at me and said Hey, lady do I call you elderly????????? LMAO

Age has never "bothered me" but until recently I also never really considered being "old". It's got it's perks and creaks too.

Can I hear you now???????

I have so many thoughts whizzing around in my head most days that I feel like I'm on overload. I obviously don't think I am the only one because as I look around while out of the house (they do let me out every once in a while, just thought I'd share that warning) I see lots of crazed people. Most of us are in our own world with errands to run, things to get done and other places to be.

Yep, you guessed it, this is gonna be one of those slow down and smell the roses kinda post. I can't put anything past you can I?

As I was hurrying to get my Celebrate OZ, Altered Oz post up on my other blog Olde Baggs 'n Stuft Shirts, I had to run to the copy center to get Dorothy's dress increased in size. I had thought I had her pegged as a size 8.5" x 11" regular but she turned out to be 2 times, 8.5" x 11" sheets of cardstock. Actually because I am a size conscious girl, she is a 1.5 to be precise.

So anyway as I am rushing in the copy center door to get my girl Dorothy dressed in time, there was this folded paper on the ground near the door. It looked like an old letter to someone. I picked it up thinking that it was trash at first. As I was waiting for a machine, I was being nosey and read what was written on the paper. It was a letter dated November 23, 1972. It was from a daughter to a mother. The gist of the letter was that the daughter was sorry that the mother had chosen not to come to her wedding. She was hurt but understood that her mother was not going to change her mind and the daughter wanted to make sure that her mother knew that she forgave her anyway.

As I read the words, I was swept away into this person's pain because I too had a similar history of anger, hurt associated with my wedding and the date on the letter made it eerily close. I ran away and married Sweet Man on November 24, 1972.

I looked around to see if there was anyone my age in the copy shop. No, all were youngers but there was this young man who seemed to be looking for something in his stack of papers. Being who I am, I asked him if he had dropped the letter. He looked directly in my eyes and said yes, thank you. But how did you know? I said I noticed that he was searching for something. He said, you have no idea.

He dropped out of line and we stood at the back of the store. Then he poured out his heart about the loss of his mother. Who, he commented had looked very much like me. He said she passed away last week and he was trying to get things in order. He said he found the letter in an envelope in a shoe box of cards and stuff his Mom had in her closet. The letter had his grandmothers name and address on it but it had never been sent. The significance of the letter was huge for this young man. Forgiveness never delivered, he called it. He had never known his grandmother, never even known where she lived or what her name was. He was making copies for his sister in Michigan because he knew she also would have interest in a past that they had never known. His mother had divorced his father when he was 5 and his sister was 4. They had not seen or heard from him since. Their whole world had been their Mother as their only family. And he was in shock about this information and what it might mean for him, his sister and their spouses and children.

I asked what he was going to do with it? He said probably nothing but it did make him wonder.

I shared with him that I too found things after my own Mother's death that would forever be mysteries to me because she had kept her secrets from her kids. He admitted that he knew that there must be family members out there but that he would feel odd getting in touch with them after all these years. What would he say? I confessed I didn't have the answer. We just sorta stared at each other. He said he felt that meeting me had given him his answer...if he could talk to a perfect stranger in a copy shop about it, that he could talk to a perfect stranger who may have known his Mom.

Who knows what Michael will do with the information. But I am pondering what I need to do with it. The feelings I have, I mean. I can't fix it for him or his sister, but I can send them healing thoughts and consider them as part of my life experience. I can accept that this happened for a reason and wait on the answer. Or I can think, it is what it is.