We Drove Down to Prattville for THIS?

Sooooo.....Thanksgiving. Ah. My sugar levels twitch just thinking about it.

Kurt's mother hasn't cooked a Thanksgiving meal in years. I did not know this, or I would have offered to cook more. I insisted on bringing a good bit of food anyway, but she kept shushing me; I got it, I got it, I got it...but what she was really doing was getting heat exhaustion and stressing out.

We had more food than could fit on the table. Seriously, Kurt and I ate on the couch with our plates balanced on throw pillows. It ended up being five of us for the first meal- me, Kurt, mother-in-law, frienemy, and her very socially awkward daughter. The daughter is strange. I have no other word for it. If you can picture a drug addict, possible prostitute, insomniac, anorexic misfit then you have an idea of what our uninvited guest looked like. Or maybe she was invited since her mother brought her. Not that we invited the mother. But anyway.

Mother-in-law cooked the rolls and turkey I gave her, sweet potato casserole (which she loaded up with brown sugar, forgetting I have an illness that prohibits the consumption of sugar), dressing, gravy, cranberry sauce, sweet pea casserole, mashed potatoes, more dressing, and some kind of corn dish. The pushy BFF brought green bean casserole and a very dry peacan pie that nobody ate. I also brought fresh kiwi that everyone forgot about and wine that we didn't open until our uninvited guests left because we thought the strange daughter would drink it all. We also had a home-made red velvet cake because Kurt can't eat chocolate. I ate some the frosting. Heaven! During the meal, mother-in-law kept wishing the food had turned out better. Everything was fine, she was just so stressed she couldn't enjoy what she had.

A few hours after the first dinner, Kurt's sisters came in, loudly, and ate. I had to get more wine because my nerves were in shock from chatter. I drank a lot which didn't help my high sugar levels. I mean, there just isn't enough insulin to cover that many carbs. Kurt and I put together a jigsaw puzzle while his sisters squealed. I told mother-in-law her children were loud. She laughed at me and poured more wine. When they left the silence was thumping. Or maybe that was my head. I was really glad to go home.

My sugar has been too high since Thanksgiving. The day after, I felt so bad I didn't hardly get out of bed. I barely ate on Friday because fasting helps to lower gloucose levels, but not eating doesn't make me feel good. Saturday I still felt like crap on toast, but I got up, tried have a normal, routine day, and I exercised. Today I am better with sugars in the 90's, but I am still paying for Thursday. I have already made it clear that Thanksgiving 2013 will be celebrated at my house. I waited until the BFF left to say this. She is not invited. I've already planned the place, the menu, and the guestlist and she is just not on it and neither is her freak offspring. Too bad, so not sad.

 I said I rearranged the house. I just don't feel like taking pictures. Sorry. Evidently the house doesn't want to be photographed. Houses are fussy like that. I got my old altar back. I starting using a cabinet mother-in-law gave us, but I just didn't like it. I thought a cabinet would be cool, but I had something like this in mind:

 

I love hoosier cabinets. I was picturing lots of magickal supplies tucked in all the drawers and cabinets, but I was forgetting what makes hoosiers cool is the part that's always in view. When my cabinet doors are shut, that's it, you can't see anything. And I'm a whopping five foot one so I couldn't see into my cauldron. I could see my cauldron sitting on top of the cabinet, but I could see if the candle was still burning inside. It sucks being short. The cabinet is now housing Kurt's clothes (the whole reason why it was given to us anyway) and I made the bookscase back into the altar. Everyone is happy now.

 

Changing altars again  made me question how I practice. So I made a change, and yes, this time you'll get a picture because otherwise you won't know what I'm talking about.





This is my spindle. As in a thing used to spin wool. Not that I actually ever did spin yarn. But I can in theory.

Here's the top. See? It has a lovely Celtic knot.

I've been using my spindle to manifest. I've used it all weekend. I think of what I want, then spin. I spin energy into the physical. I manifested this:

Kurt and I have both had bad dreams. The other night, I dreamed a coworker was reading a book. She started stabbing the pages with her finger. Kurt woke up screaming. He had a dream someone was stabbing him. I find it interesting we were both having stabbing dreams at the same time. I haven't figured out why we are having these dreams or what exactly is going on with my coworker. I decided we needed a dreamcatcher. We went to the large indoor flea market. And walked around the whole place without finding a single dreamcatcher. Disappointed, we went for burgers and while eating Kurt said, 'Doesn't Dreamscapes sell them?' And I was all like, fuck, why didn't I think of that? We headed to the local Witch shop and while I checked to see if any of my wares had sold, he picked out this dreamcatcher. The orange bead has a spider on it. Of course, I know how to make dreamcatchers, but mine never turn out well. If I had tried to make this it wouldn't look artful, it would just be lop-sided and stupid.

And yes, it's working.

I've used the spindle for other things- banishing (spin counterclockwise), for growth of community, and for protection. If you don't have a spindle, try using a child's top. They come in all sizes and colors and a few either light up or make sounds. You could also try twirling a baton, that's fun too.

I could keep going with my adventures, but I think I've rambled on long enough and anyway, the spell check has ceased to function. It keeps telling me all my words are correct even though I noticed three misspells.