And You May Ask Yourself.. How Did I Get Here?

This is not my beautiful house..

So.. it’s Capricorn season, at least for a few days. Of course if you listen to any of the astrologers that I do, you’re well aware that this year is totally Capricorn-dominated and going to force you to shut up and start doing. This sounds very worrisome to my quad-Sag, mostly-fire self. At the same time, maybe it’s time to welcome this change. Let’s get back to grounding ourselves and ignoring our news feeds. Let’s put our feet on the ground, roll up our sleeves, and do something. I, right now, am Ten of Wands fully. Saturn in Sagittarius might as well be my querent card at this point. A coworker introduced me by all of my part-time projects the other night, which made me seem both ludicrous and amazing at the same time. Luckily, most things only require my attention once a week or month, but the downside is my writing this blog is suffering a bit. The book and the blog will be sisters this year, and I am recommitting myself to both as of today.

Back to Capricorn season, or Capricorn year, with a healthy sprinkling of Mars energy. I am no astrologer, but it feels right. It’s time to be the intrepid goat and climb with a bit of Mars fire up your ass. My current projects are all things that other people don’t think have material worth. Maybe they’re right. I am convinced that with drive and hard work we can all turn this year into something special. Drown-out the noise.

“And you may ask yourself.. how did I get here?”

How did I get here? How is all the magic finally kicking in? How am I finding all the people I need to find?

Astrologically this is not the time for me. Or probably anyone.

The sage is in bloom. The whitewater is running. As I hiked up a trail of switchbacks and falling stones, lichens, and feral cattle poop with three of my favorite people and a very tired little pup, I was able to reconnect a bit with the landscape. I talked to a sage bush like a hippy. I poured the silty water over my head like a baptism.

An astute friend pointed out that people often find seashells hiking there. That it was a vast, inland sea at one point. She reminded me that Capricorn is the ‘Sea-Goat’, and therefore we chose the perfect hike.

“You say the hill’s too steep to climb.. Climbing..”

As for practical magic advice, here is what I am doing.

Working my way through the Rune Soup sigil course. Yes, I ‘know’ sigils. I thank a lot of the fires I have burning to them. It’s always wise to rethink everything you know. I have found doing daily (instead of occasional) planetary prayer to be quite beneficial.

I recently ‘discovered’ Aidan Wachter’s “Six Ways”, and really like his stripped-down-Harley view of sorcery. Highly recommended, as is his appearance on the Glitch Bottle podcast.

Oh, and if any of you are interested in Chartreuse, I wrote this..

https://www.cvindependent.com/index.php/en-US/food-drink/cocktails/item/5689-on-cocktails-chartreuse-made-by-monks-for-centuries-may-or-may-not-work-as-medicine-but-it-definitely-works-in-delicious-drinksundefined

Eventually going to post about planetary herbal liqueurs, but until I do, realize that Saturn likes Fernet. That’s where we begin..

Highway to the Dead Zone

Enough rum to preserve Admiral Nelson’s body

Halloween came and went, the veil between worlds is returning to its usual opacity. That’s just fine by most people, I mean many of us wish to know that there is more out there, and something that happens after death, and that’s about as much of the ‘dead’ as we like around us. We like to hear that Grandma and Pappy are happy together on a cloud somewhere, or that they’re watching out for us. That’s why ‘spirit boards’ are still on sale nearly everywhere board games are sold. We light candles as kids, we accuse each other of moving the widget, we get spooked, or nothing happens, and either way we put the board back in the closet (or the fireplace, or the trash).

Depending on the tradition one is working through, rum is pretty popular as an offering for spirits of the crossroads and the underworld. Back in my college days I dabbled with a spirit or two that seemed to enjoy it.. well since I was a complete newbie with no actual teacher in the systems I was messing with it was probably just the rum in my system making me think I was in touch with anything at all. These days I tend to let the dead lie, besides.. you never really know who is on the other end of that planchette.

In honor of the (just ended!) Mercury retrograde I rewatched a few movies from my childhood. While “Killer Klowns from Outer Space” probably doesn’t have much to add to this subject, “The Dead Zone” does, at least in an oblique way. Besides, I can’t resist an opportunity to reference Christopher Walken. The “dead zone” in the title of the movie, based on the Stephen King novel of the same name, refers to the blind spot in our perception, and for those of us who try and scry a little knowledge from the misty void that is a very real thing. I am actually glad that is the case. A pre-written, already known world (while very possibly the case) is a bit depressing to me. So here’s to the fog on the road, even if we don’t always know where we’re going.

Now on to the drink. Naturally I had to enjoy a ‘Dead Zone”, the ‘barrel cocktail’ on the current Bootlegger Tiki (Palm Springs, CA) menu. Both for the name and the warning of ‘One max per customer!’, and also since it was created by my coworker at Truss and Twine, Jesse.

yeah, rum! um uh oh..

He was a little tight-lipped about the exact ingredients but disclosed that it was a variation on a Zombie (also appropriate for this time of year) and that it had baking spices, a little citrus, and three over-proof rums- including the delicious and deadly OFTD from Plantation! It definitely drinks like a Zombie, but with more complexity in the spice profile and also from the richness of the OFTD. I can say that I certainly wasn’t clairvoyant before I drank it, but I was definitely in the ‘dead zone’ afterwards. Just make sure to leave the car at home, nobody wants to be in the actual dead zone.