Wheels Within

  So I told you about the Woodge, here . Let me tell you about Sam.  Sam's story isn't one of unmitigated joy. He came to me as an unwilling legacy from a friend who took her own life in August of 2017. She had two dogs: a young Ridgeback adolescent, and an elder statesman of a collie cross (? His breeding wasn't really known. He had classic Entlebucher/Swiss Mountain dog markings, but the double coat of a collie, and very much a shepherd personality.) I say unwilling, because she had wanted me to take the puppy, but Siri was not a good match for my household, and Sam needed the particular care I could offer, plus he and I had really bonded, on those occasions where I visited him at home, as she stopped bringing him to the farm when she got the puppy. He would let me brush him and snuggle him, even when he was very defensive to everyone else: it never occurred to me that there might have been a lot more to it, but later revelations proved painful and difficult, and it reall

 I am at DragonHolm for the week, and in deep and deeper conversations with my mentor and with myself, I have realised a lot of things. This should have been a relaxing trip full of archery shenanigans and sight-seeing walks and wades into the ocean, and instead we have been pretty much stuck inside due to terrible air quality from all the smoke of forest fires up and down the West Coast. I had not really been lamenting the squelching of my aPaD month that is usually full of stunning scenery and wordful worship of the changing seasons, but I had been hopeful the rain last night would clarify the air and bring back the views and visual inspirations for my work... only to stay up very late talking cards and witchwork, and to wake up to a wyrd of a morning. All of this is good. I am preparing to take a more consciously Magical approach to my daily life, and to reconnect with all those sacred things I have paid merest lip service to in the last decade or more. To just affirm things, I did