The Day After

So Krimmus day was very cool. Laid back, cheery, and filled with naps and relaxation. All the phone obligations were handled early, allowing Aunt Tudi and myself the rest of the day to just chill out.

Today is different. Today, we'll be going out to fight the crowds and purchase supplies for next December. This is Aunt Tudi's favourite day of the holiday month. She gets to buy all manner of wrapping paper, bows, and whatnot at slashed prices. Her favourite place is Lowes because they sell the metallic wrapping paper. I'm hoping that this is the only place we go, 'cos I'm just not a shopper. I'm with the men on this. Don't tarry, don't linger, just get what you gotta have and get the hell out!

After the shopping thing, I'm supposed to go see Llew. The kids have gone to Tennessee, so we'll have the house to ourselves. I'm hoping to go and get back before dark, at which time I'll log back on to my beloved Internet and chill before heading to beddiebyes.

While I'm waiting on Aunt Tudi to finish her lunch so we can scoot on outta here, I took a quiz I stole from popfiend. It's too cool to wait and post it with the other quizzes on Friday.

( twilight zone )

This is the fourth straight day I've felt fantastic, both physically and mentally. Surely this is a sign that death is near.

The Do-Do

I need an icon of the cute and crazy Do-Do from the old Porky Pig cartoon. The Do-Do would do something horrible to Porky and then do this funky little dance as he said: "A dodee-o dodee-o dodee-o do do DO!"

It's funny as hell. My dream is to someday find that cartoon on DVD and then make myself an animated icon of that crazy Do-Do Dance. It would become my "I'm happy as hell" icon.

Religious and Family Dynamics

During our Evans Family Brouhaha on Krimmus Eve, the meat served for our party was roasted ham. Now, I'm not a big pork eater and I found it very wrong to be eating swine so close to Hanukkah anyway, even though I don't keep Kosher most of the time. When Aunt Tudi asked me why I didn't get any ham, I said as much to her. Then Blake piped up and said, "Oh yeah, you're Jewish. Why are you celebrating with all of us tonight then?"

I replied: "Because all you people are Gentiles and I try to do as the Romans, when in Rome. Besides, my dad is a Christian, so here I am."

Blake looked confused, but dropped it. But it got me to thinking how out of whack it seems to others when they learn of my religious background or they hear me call the woman I just introduced as my mother Aunt Tudi. So, let's clear it all up, shall we?

The Father Unit is Baptist. The Mother Unit is Jewish. Up til my 5th year on this Earth, I went to Temple, but also celebrated Easter and Christmas. I remember our having a Hanukkah bush when I was just a wee teeny tot. When the Units divorced and went their separate ways, I was entrusted to Aunt Tudi and Granny to raise. When I turned 10, Aunt Tudi's bid to legally adopt me was granted, legally making my father my uncle and my aunt my new mother. Bizarre neh? During those years after the divorce, I was taken to church a couple of times, but didn't like the idea of being separated from my family for this weird phenomenon called "Sunday School." That shit didn't happen in Temple. Everyone stayed together, or at least they did back in the 70s.

It was during this time (age 10 or 11) that my Aunt Edna introduced me to Tarot cards and she gave me a Witch's spellbook. Aunt Edna was way cool, very strange and esoteric, and a hopeless Willie Nelson fan. She took me under her wing in the arena of the arcane and set me on a path I wouldn't fully embrace until 13 years later.

So from 1978 and 1990, I didn't attend church, but I was an avid Bible reader and a natural interrogator of god and the angels. Granny was my main encouragement in the realm of all things spiritual. When I would show interest in going to Temple or church, she was most supportive, but also stressed to me that god could be found as easily, if not easier, by way of personal prayer and meditation, or sitting in a field under a giant old tree. For her, god was in everything, particularly natural settings, untouched by Man. Looking back on all that, I realise now that Granny was on the threshold of returning to her Pagan roots, even though she was a devout Christian.

Despite my agnostic proclivities, I still very much wanted to believe and be apart of something greater than myself, greater than all of us, that unfathomable ineffable BEING. When we moved to West Virginia in 1980, I was eager to discuss such matters with Aunt Josephine who, to me, was this lofty wise woman who could help me find my way. We had several religious discussions and I was close to embracing her world view until that fateful day she told me I was going to Hell because I liked Andy Gibb and the music of the day. Such judgmental behaviour turned me away from all of it and my religion became music.

In 1990, when I first began to explore Wicca, I discovered that all the good bits in the acceptable religions held much more meaning and power in Pagan practice. Granny's emphasis on the natural state of things came back to me and I was able to embrace her beliefs wholeheartedly now. The first truly serious and scholarly book I read on Witchcraft was The Spiral Dance by Starhawk, who also happened to be Jewish. It was like a message solely for me, that I could choose my own path without having to forfeit my religious history that connected me to my family.

So when people ask me about my family religion, I tell them that my mother is Jewish, my father is Christian, so it was only logical that grow up to be a Pagan. And, if eyebrows raise at what I call Aunt Tudi, I explain that she is indeed my aunt, but also my mother on account of the adoption.

It looks complicated, but it isn't.