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I grew up for my first 10 years in an Italian household. My grandfather Pete was the uncontested head of the family, even my father made it a point to never go against him. I spent much of my time hanging out in his shop, watching him work (He was a blacksmith.), and listening to what he had to say.
Papa was raised in Chicago, in the area known as Little Italy. My great-grandfather had immigrated to the United States in the late 1800s, and my grandfather was one of the children born here. He was an unusual man, he left home at 13 after being molested by a Catholic priest, hitchhiked to New Orleans, and went to work on a banana boat going back and forth to South America. When WWI broke out, he lied about his age like so many young men, and joined the Army at 15. He ended up in the cavalry, where he learned the blacksmith trade. He shipped out almost immediately to Europe, saw 13 major engagements, and was mustard gassed twice. (No one to my knowledge ever saw him naked except his doctor.) He met a German girl of 16, fell head over heels in love, married her and spent five years in Ochtendung with the occupation forces, waiting to get my grandmother's papers so she could travel to the
U.S.
My grandfather had a very interesting outlook on life. He was generous to a fault, but when he felt he had been wronged would cut a person off in a heartbeat, and never help them or even acknowledge their presence again. One of his favorite phrases was "You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours." Their house in Chicago had the kitchen in the basement, and my grandmother had a table set up at all times to feed hungry people during the Depression. The hobos who traveled around looking for work marked the house with symbols showing that generous people lived there. I was taught that if someone is hungry, even if we didn't have much, we shared what we had, with the unspoken understanding that they would do the same.
As I have gotten older, and the world has changed, this standard no longer applies here in America. Everyone is out for themselves, and screw the rest. There are a few pockets of us still around, and usually we are called old fashioned, hippies, or even rubes, because we are still willing to help out others in times of need. I still believe, despite having been burned time and again, that it is my duty to do so. Sadly, this is seldom, if ever, reciprocated. Sometimes people mistake my generosity for weakness, and when they try to take advantage of me, they are totally surprised to find themselves cut off. I think the rest have good intentions, but they weren't raised in that type of culture, and don't really comprehend that kind of a give and take relationship. The relationships I do have like that are all with people who were raised in a similar culture, and understand it on a subconscious level. These really and truly are the friends that you can call at 3 in the morning, and they will be there. There was a time when people had large family/tribe units to rely on, but most times that is no longer the case. People are roaming further from their families following jobs, college, romance, and are not returning to the familial areas like they used to, so those connections are being lost, and we are having to wade through a sea of posers to find those like ourselves, to create our intentional family, the people we can rely on to have our backs in times of need. Sad that this is no longer the norm in our society, but looked upon as a colloquialism, a throw back, old fashioned.
Within the last 3 weeks, we have had two holidays, and three upheavals. We celebrated our anniversary and my birthday, and in between the two, S got laid off by AT&T after being one of the top 1% in his department for nearly 11 years. Rather than try to return to the call center, he has decided to move forward, rather than back, and look for a job in the computer industry, which is the field of his degree.
I had decided to close the Pagan shop, and scale back the bakery to my current customer base several weeks before this happened. Instead of trying to open back up, I too have decided to shake things up, and finally get around to writing. I was published in my younger days, and with self publishing, writers are no longer tied to a publishing house, fielding weeks/years of rejection letters, and being under the editor and agent's thumbs. This will be my first foray into fiction, as previously I wrote research papers and a bit of bad poetry, which none the less managed to get put into print, long before home computers were a thing.
Number three hit last week was our son informing us he was quitting college to find a dead end minimum wage job. I am super bummed that his biofather is letting him get away with this. Why the man wanted a child in the first place, I will never know, since he takes zero interest in what W is doing. They have given him little help in the year he has lived with them, and he is refusing to move home so he can get his life together. I'm sure he's going to show up on my doorstep at 28 with no job, no education, and no where to live, and I will have to fix my ex's fuck up once again.
So at 52, I am once again striking out to new territory. Brave new world!
It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May......
Yes, I tend to revert to my musical theater days when I haven't had much sleep.
Our newly formed Kindred had its first ritual, Valborg, the spring celebration. We invited some of the members of a local Druid Grove we are considering Hearthkinning with, and it was a good ritual and a pleasant evening. Shawn and I did manage to make it to the dawn ritual as well.
It has been a long time (Close to 10 years.) since I have had to deal with people in more than a very limited social setting. I do enjoy social gatherings, but I try really hard to not get sucked into people's lives and drama, because it saps what limited energy I have that I really need to other things. Shawn is keen on the hearthkin thing, but after the events of the last couple of weeks, I am thinking that for me, this is might not be such a good idea. There has been already some fairly major drama that I have been sucked into, and I know that becoming the clan matriarch to a bunch of baby Pagans yet again means that I must be involved in their personal lives to an extent that I am not sure I am willing to take on at this time, not to mention the inevitable politics that arise in any group of people that numbers more than two.
Time to withdraw for a time and think on things.
Talking to a friend this morning, and she commented that she was suffering from what I like to call "Mommy burnout syndrome". Her oldest is entering puberty, which is such a fun age in a young person's like. NOT! (Every mother out there who has lived with a teenager is nodding their head right now.)
Mommy burnout happens right about the time puberty hits. Your precious sweet little baby who you cared for through earaches, broken toys, the Terrible Twos and the start of school becomes a demon possessed spawn of evil, and it happens so fast you are left sitting in the dust thinking "What the hell just happened?"
During this period, nothing you can say or do is right, and unfortunately, this is the time when the little heathens NEED to listen to the wisdom you have to impart to them, things they are going to need in their young adult life. Too bad their ears are stopped up by hormones and not a damn thing you say is really going to sink in. Like the line in True Lies, their parents are now Axel Rose and Madonna, or whatever teen pop icon is out there at the time.
In tribal societies, it is common for adolescents to be fostered by another adult, (This does not mean the same thing as it does in modern Western society.) since they will more often listen to someone who is not their parent. This foster parent is the one responsible for teaching them the things they need to be functioning adults. The foster parent also is someone the young person can go to with issues they wouldn't feel comfortable talking to their parents about, like dating/relationship/sex issues.
In modern Western society, we do not have that safety net of being able to hand off our teenagers when they hit the point that even the simplest thing sets them off, like asking what they want for supper or how their day was. This causes the Mommy Burnout (Daddies get it too, but not as bad unless they are the primary caretaker.) that is so prevelent today. We really need to be able to hand off our teens at least part of the time to someone who they will actually listen to. Most people expect the school system to do so, and while many educators are wonderful in helping, but they can not give the one-on-one attention a developing young person needs, their time demands are so massive. In the lucky families, there is often a relative willing and able to take on the task, but since WWII, the nuclear family being pushed as 'the norm', the tribal aspect of family was lost. Due to the economy over the last several years, generational living is becoming more common in this country again, where the family stays together, with the older retired relatives taking care of the children while the younger family members go out and earn a living.
If you don't have someone you can hand your child off to when they are behaving like Bevis and Butthead, I have had parents tell me that things like summer camp and activities like hobby/interest groups help relieve that constant barrage of hormones that we are forced to endure. if you are currently raising an adolescent, I feel for you, been there, done that. The good news is usually by their mid-twenties they will level out and become quasi-human adults. Just remember, this too shall pass. Take a deep breath, hang on to your hat, and good luck!
Now that we are out and about in the Pagan community again, we are needing space to do Pagan things. So after looking at the back space that we only use for compost and storage, I have decided to build a Temple and guesthouse. This is the space as it looks now:
It's pretty rough at the moment, but I think it has the potential to be a really cool and unusual ritual space. I'll post as things progress.
Okay, so it's not NASCAR, or a tractor pull, it's time once again for Pagan & Eggs!
What is P&E, you ask? It is a monthly gathering of Pagans who come together and have brunch and catch up on what's going on in the North Austin area Pagan community.
We met our current batch of peeps when I saw a post pop up on Facebook about a Pagan event. I always check to see where they are, and this one was right down the street, so I decided to give it a try. We went, and met a whole new group of people who were not the angry bitter Pagans who forced us to stop attending anything, because of the backstabbing political maneuvering that goes on. We wanted a group we could hang out with and NOT be hassled by angry glares or outright hostility because we decided to talk to someone not on the 'approved' list. This group definitely fits the bill.They are also mostly a Druid grove, and as I got my start at the Druid College, and lean more towards European shamanism, I am definitely enjoying the discussions. I get SO tired of Wiccans, they can be mind numbingly tedious and very few actually live by the Rede.
With Shawn becoming interested in his Northmen heritage, I have been looking into the Volva, the female shaman/wisewomen of the Norse. The Volva and shamans of the North are very similar to the American Indian shaman, which I think shows yet another possible link to northern Europeans who migrated across the Siberian land bridge.
The behavior and acceptance of this new group has been just what I needed. I was wanting to return to the community, but I did not want to have to face the angry bitter people any more. Just the thought of going to a CMA/ESA/FoG event grits my teeth. And that is sad that I was forced to leave a community where I was one of the original members because of the hate filled people who inhabit it. Luckily most of those persons live south, and we seldom if ever see them at any of our events.
Nearly at the three month mark for Julian calendar year 2015, and I have to say that this has been the best year in a very long time. Major milestones last year, Walker graduating high school with a nearly straight A-B average (Thank you SCORES!) and going off to college, the end (hopefully!) of needing housemates, Shawn's new position at work, my decision to open a Pagan shop again. At the beginning of 2015, I had some very long talks with myself, and took a long look at my life and where it was headed.
I really didn't care for what I was seeing.
My parents lived until they were 84, and were married 62 of those years. Unhappily. Very, very unhappily. I left my first marrige for many reasons, but this one figured heavily into my decision. I did not want to become them. So I dumped my first husband, and began the long climb to regain who I was. With the support of many friends and family, I got better. And then aging set in, and several injuries, and having to deal with parents dying and losing most of my inheritance because I allowed someone to talk me into something that was not financially viable. I began to become angry and bitter again. When I realized I could not return to that state, I started to look around me. So many people I interacted with were the same angry bitter people. I was gravitating to them like an addict to a drug dealer.
So I made myself get out and go to a new Pagan event in the neighborhood. It was the best thing I could have done. I met amazing new people, and saw that it was past time to cut the bitter angry people out of my life. When I did that, I was able to take the time to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, now that I had raised my child and sent him off into the world. That led to my decision to open another Pagan shop, since the one on this end of town had closed long ago, and no one wants to shlep down an hour or more to far south Austin. Opening the shop led to people asking about classes and private sessions, and now I am so happily engaged doing the things that I love I have no time to be bitter or angry. Sure, I have bad days like everyone else, but now instead of just letting it steamroll over me, I give it a day or so, and if it doesn't get better, then I look for causes. Usually it is someone I have been interacting with, and once I limit or remove that contact, I get better again. Sometimes it is a situation out of my control, and those times I ride it out as best I can.
Life is good, and onward through the fog!
The Gregorian calendar new year. Meh. The last several days of 2014 have not been the best, with injuries, things broken, and general meh. And a cold wet start as well. Two months into the Pagan new year, and while there have been a few good things, like Shawn finally moving up at work, for the most part it has been a slow spiral down already. I need an updraft!
Over the last couple of months, the realization that my business skills are suck-o-rama has made me rethink what I can do now that my child rearing days are over. The bakery has tanked, and standing out in the freezing cold, rain and blistering sun at a farmer's market to make a whole $20 a week it just not worth it. Since I'm a baker, not a cake decorator, I don't have those big ticket items like wedding cakes. It is too easy to pick up some cheap cookies or what passes for 'artisan' bread in the grocery store/Wal-Mart than to take the time to place an order with me.
The same goes with a Pagan shop, without a brick and mortar in a business area, it is too much hassle for anyone to come into the neighborhood at odd hours to pick up a couple of things which are easily bought online and delivered to their house.
With the house deteriorating and not enough cash to fix it up, we are forced to return to renting out the converted garage space. This entails either putting in a bathroom, which there is no way we can afford that at 15+K, an off grid bathroom, which is inexpensive, but will take a special kind of renter to deal with, or making it a housemate situation, where they use our kitchen and bathroom, not an appealing prospect, as we just got our house back from children, and we do enjoy living alone. A tiny house in the back would be better, but again, the catch-22 of the money to build it. With Austin pretty much staying at 96% occupancy, getting someone in isn't the problem, it is getting someone long term who we can live with. Not that it matters, one way or the other, come spring, we will have someone else living here.
Yea yea, I know, be thankful for a house, food, etc. I am, but I am also a single paycheck away from being homeless, and that is not something I want to experience in my old age. And just surviving is not living. So back to being a landlord, as much as I don't want to, it is better than the alternative.
