Tag: life

life

Self-parenting and Rose Petal Jam

J.

Hello!

So, as I write this, it’s Mother’s Day in the US. I’ve written in the past about having complicated feelings about this particular holiday, for what I think are pretty valid reasons.

(There isn’t really a long or terribly interesting story there, and it’s one that sadly seems to be all too common: I was tired of being smacked around and humiliated, I knew nobody around me was going to put a stop to it, so I did it myself. Fin.)

Rather than dedicating this post to practices to help heal from damaged or diseased familial relationships, this is for people who have had to come to the realization that they weren’t taught how to thrive and had to re-learn and re-parent themselves. Sometimes, people don’t seem to recognize that they aren’t just keeping little extensions of themselves — they’re raising future adults who will have to function in the world on their own. From seeing how other kids my aged lived, and what their families were like, I learned that things weren’t normal in mine.

Once I was on my own, I had to un-learn and re-learn everything. Nutrition. Cooking. Hygiene. How to relate to people different from me. How to recognize and recover from religious abuse. It was a lot, and I screwed (and still screw) up regularly.

So, if you’re a grown-up kid who’s also had to go back, undo the damage that was done to you, and re-learn how to live in ways that aren’t completely karked, this is for you. Chances are you’ve messed up time and again in the re-learning process, but that’s normal. The important thing is to not give up. No matter how old you are, it’s never too late for you to become the person you’ve always wanted to be.

This is a simple, but very tasty, recipe for rose petal confiture. Don’t be intimidated — it’s really very easy, it just looks and tastes fancy. To be honest, the hardest part is sourcing enough rose petals. (You’ll want ones that aren’t sprayed with anything or treated with systemic pesticides. I grew these myself, picked, and cleaned them right before cooking.)

A piece of bread covered in strawberry and rose petal jam, sitting on a blue-green plate beside a jar of said jam and a butter knife.
Pictured on a slice of fresh-baked einkorn bread.

Roses are an excellent herb for a variety of purposes, but they’re most commonly associated with love in all its forms. Visualize what life could be like if you were able to forgive yourself for whatever mistakes you’ve made in the re-learning process, and parent yourself the way that younger you needed. Infuse the preserves with this self-love as you stir them (clockwise, using your dominant hand). Eat them on bread, ice cream, yogurt, or fresh fruit.

Rose Petal Confiture

Ingredients:

  1. 2 cups of rose petals. Stronger-fragranced roses have a stronger flavor. For this, I used native Virginia rose petals.
  2. 1 cup of water.
  3. 1 cup of sugar.
  4. 2 tablespoons of lemon juice.
  5. A clean jar with a tight-fitting lid.

If you like, you can also add a bit of fruit to the preserves. I had an extra handful of strawberries, so I chopped them up and tossed them in, too.

Directions:

  1. In a medium saucepan, combine sugar, water, and lemon juice. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly, until the sugar dissolves.
  2. Add the rose petals. Lower the heat to a simmer.
  3. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the rose petals release their color into the surrounding liquid and turn kind of pale and translucent and the syrup thickens a bit. (This’ll take about 20-30 minutes.)
    It won’t gel the way that fruit jellies or jams do and will maintain a somewhat syrupy consistency. That’s okay!
  4. Remove from heat and immediately pour into the jar. Put the lid on tightly.
  5. Keep the finished preserves in your refrigerator. They’ll keep for about a month but will probably get eaten long before then!

life

Korpiklaani at Baltimore Soundstage (Or, how thick thighs really *can* save lives.)

J.

Remember when I said I couldn’t maypole dance because my ankle’s still janky (a jankle, if you will) and so I had to pick my battles?
This is what I meant.

Sunday, my Handsome Assistant and I got to see Korpiklaani. They were part of a lineup of bands that were mostly symphonic metal — Foretoken, a local band from Virginia; Illumishade, formed by some members of Eluveitie; and Visions of Atlantis, which I wasn’t familiar with but, if I had to describe them, I’d probably say “what would happen if Nightwish got really into seafaring.”

Also, also, also! As we were pulling up to the parking garage, we passed within a few feet of Jonne Järvelä. I waved and smiled, he waved and smiled back, I had an embarrassing fan nerd moment in the car in front of my Handsome Assistant, it was rad.
(I didn’t stop, get out of the car, or try to actually talk to him or anything, of course. Man was taking a break, and I definitely didn’t want to be rude or make a nuisance of myself. It was just a brief gesture of, “Hello! I am super excited about what you are about to do,” and it was cool to get a smile and wave back.)

The show started on time, which kind of amazed me. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a concert that actually started when it said it was going to before. There wasn’t a lot of downtime between bands, either.

All of the bands were enjoyable — Visions of Atlantis, in particular, was a lot of fun — but Korpiklaani brought the house down. Since my motion was somewhat limited and it’s still a bit challenging to put weight on my ankle for too long, I had to stay by the railing. Even so, I danced enough that I accidentally butt-donated (or, I guess, leg-donated) to the Share the Meal app.
Multiple times.
With a working ankle, I probably could’ve solved world hunger and gone devastatingly and irreversibly into debt.
My Handsome Assistant, on the other hand, went into the pit to dance.

There wasn’t a lot of banter or downtime between songs. As soon as Korpiklaani got on stage, they kept the energy up the whole time. It was sometimes hard to hear Jonne Järvelä singing, but I think this was a mic issue and it wasn’t exclusive to them.

Honestly, this was one of my bucket list items. I’ve got a pretty long list of bands that I need to see either before I die, or they stop touring. Korpiklaani absolutely lived up to and surpassed my expectations. I had a fantastic time.

Some kind soul has also made a Spotify playlist of Korpiklaani’s setlist, if you’d like to know it. I’ve been listening to it pretty much on repeat ever since.

If you get the chance to see them live, do it. It’s absolutely worth it.

crystals, Plants and Herbs

The Absolute Worst Crystals for Plants

J.

It’s spring! Kind of!

Yesterday marked the average last frost date for my area (as calculated by the National Arboretum in DC). If you’re like me, you’re probably itching to get your garden started, or at least reclaim some desk space by moving your indoor plants outside for a little bit.

I’ve seen a lot of posts about using crystals and other minerals to help plants. You’ve probably seen the same kind of advice that I have — tuck a quartz point in with your plants to help them grow. Bury four green jades, one at each corner of your garden, to protect your plants and help them flourish.

This got me thinking: What are the absolute worst crystals you could conceivably use for your plants? If some crystals can help, it stands to reason that others can hurt. And hoo boy, can they ever.

While there aren’t many crystals whose metaphysical properties would cause problems in this context, there are definitely plenty that can harm your plants.
Or ruin your life.
Either or.

1. Halite

Halite is salt.
Like, it’s just rock salt.
When people joke about “going to the salt mines,” this is the stuff they’re talking about.

A crystal of halite. It kind of resembles a small pile of snow.

If you’ve ever heard about conquerors razing towns and salting the earth, you probably know that salt and plants don’t mix. (Well, not while they’re growing, anyway. Once harvested, washed, and lightly steamed, it’s a whole other story.)

The reason behind this is that plants’ roots take up water and dissolved nutrients through osmosis. Osmosis works because nature attempts to establish equilibrium. Things move from areas of high concentration to areas of low concentration, until that equilibrium is achieved. It’s much easier for cell membranes to allow water to pass into and out of the cell than to try to move minerals around, and this works out okay because soil almost always has less dissolved solutes in it than the plants’ cells do. The plants’ roothair cells let more water in, osmosis balances the concentration of solutes vs water on either side of the cell membranes, and everything’s good.

Since salt is very soluble, adding salt and water to soil can make it so that there’s more dissolved solutes in the soil than there are in the roothairs. Taking up more water won’t fix things, and so the roots end up losing water to their surroundings.

Some types of soil (specifically heavy clays) can also form compounds that are impermeable to water when they’re exposed to salt. All plants also depend heavily on soilborne bacteria and fungi, which tend to be much less resilient when exposed to sudden changes in their environment. (Like, say, adding a bunch of salt to it.) Kill off these crucial microorganisms, and the plants will soon follow suit.

2. Selenite or Satin Spar

Selenite, satin spar, and desert roses are all forms of gypsum. Gypsum is a calcium sulfate mineral. It’s also soft and somewhat soluble in water. This means that, when you go to water your plants, you’re likely melting these crystals at the same time. This not only damages the stones, it also deposits all of that calcium sulfate in the soil, altering its pH and potentially negatively impacting plant growth.

Interestingly, gypsum is one of the few materials that exhibits something called “retrograde solubility.” This means that it’s actually more soluble at lower temperatures than it is at higher ones. That’s not great news for anyone who may want to place a selenite specimen in their garden — as soon as a chilly rain hits, they may end up with a disappearing crystal and a whole bunch of dead plants.

3. Calcite

Calcite is a calcium carbonate mineral. It’s not really soluble in regular water, but it is in dilute acids. It’s also pretty soft.

A lovely piece of orange calcite.

This means that calcite can easily be scratched by other minerals present in soil. Rainwater also tends to be on the acidic side, so placing it in your garden or watering your plants with saved rainwater can cause it to dissolve over time. This will alter the pH and level of solutes in the soil, which can be detrimental to your plants. While that’s less likely to be catastrophic in a whole garden, it can definitely cause problems for the small volume of soil in the average plant pot.

4. Hematite

Hematite is an ore of iron. When it’s found in nature, it often doesn’t look like the smooth, mirrorlike, silvery-black pieces commonly seen in stores. In fact, it usually looks closer to a hunk of vaguely rusty metal. Some massively crystal specimens can exhibit that shiny silver-black appearance, but a lot of inexpensive hematite is rough and rusty and gets polished up before sale.

Hematite is fine to occasionally clean with fresh water, as long as it’s dried soon afterward. It isn’t great to put in with plants or outdoors, though, because this creates the right conditions for it to rust. That’ll damage the stone and leach all kinds of iron oxides into the soil. While natural soil is often pretty high in iron oxides already (like the red clay in my garden), it’s definitely not something you want to introduce if you can avoid it.

5. Pyrite

While hematite is a form of iron oxide, pyrite is an iron sulfide. The concern here isn’t rust, however. The “sulfide” portion of pyrite’s chemical formula is a bigger problem than the “iron” bit.

A close-up of a chunk of pyrite.

Pyrite is considered insoluble in water, but there’s a lot more than just water going on where plants grow. When pyrite is exposed to both moisture and oxygen, it oxidizes. This produces iron ions (specifically Fe2+) and sulfuric acid. In fact, the oxidation of pyrite and the resulting acid has been responsible for a number of ecological disasters.

This isn’t to say that putting a piece of tumbled pyrite in your yard is instantly going to turn it into a Superfund site, but it’s still best avoided whenever practicable. At best, you’ll end up with damaged pyrite. At worst, a lot of dead plants and possibly a stern letter from the city.

6. Cinnabar

Okay, so. Cinnabar is divisive. On one hand, some mineral enthusiasts act like it might as well be plutonium. On the other, some claim it’s absolutely no big deal.

Here’s the thing: Cinnabar is an ore of mercury, and mercury is toxic. However, mercury is at its least toxic when it’s in its elemental (aka, scoodly silver liquid) form. Metallic mercury isn’t all that well absorbed through your skin during brief, incidental contact — it’s much more dangerous when it’s in its organic form, or as a salt. This is not to say that cinnabar or mercury is safe to handle, I just want to avoid engaging in too much hyperbole.

Mercury vapor, on the other hand, can be readily absorbed by lung tissue. While it takes temperatures of about 674 °F (357 °C) to boil mercury, mercury doesn’t need to boil to evaporate and contaminate the air. Even just breaking an old fashioned thermometer can contaminate indoor air for a significant amount of time if it isn’t appropriately cleaned up.

While it’s true that cinnabar is traditionally roasted to liberate liquid mercury, some specimens do exhibit beads of pure mercury on their surfaces.

Anyhow, all of this is to say that the question of “how safe is cinnabar for plants” is too complicated for me to say that it’s safe. Cinnabar was used as a decoration (and even cosmetic) in antiquity, but buildings also weren’t nearly as air-tight as they are now. (Also, a lot of people lost their minds, went into convulsions, and died back then, while doctors blamed things like “eating cherries and milk,” “riding too fast,” and “wearing lace.”)

In the interest of safety, maybe just keep cinnabar away from heat, water, soil, your plants, your lungs, small children, et cetera. It might be safe, but it might not, and you might not find out how unsafe until it’s too late.

7. Quartz spheres

“But J,” you might be saying, “Everything says that quartz is perfectly safe in water. It’s not going to dissolve, leach anything weird, kill my plants, or turn my yard into an acidic death pit. What gives?” And you’re absolutely right!

It can, however, burn your house down.

The issue here isn’t so much the quartz itself as it is the refractive quality of crystal spheres. If the sun hits a clear glass or crystal sphere in just the right way, it can produce an effect similar to the sun shining through a magnifying glass. Crystal spheres have the ability to concentrate sunlight into a laser, and this laser can burn stuff.

So, while other crystals are mostly a problem if they get wet, crystal spheres are a problem if they’re sitting in a window. Like, say, where one might place a sun-loving potted plant.

This issue doesn’t just end at your front door, either. While I haven’t read reports of crystal balls starting fires when placed outdoors, the combination of intense sunlight, dry vegetation, and a clear sphere can definitely cause some trouble. If you have vinyl siding, the reflection of the sun just off of a neighbor’s windows can be enough to damage your home’s exterior.

What can you use instead?

Assuming you’re not in the mood to ruin your horticulture (or your life) with an ill-placed stone, the solution is pretty easy.

You can opt for different crystals instead. Any variety of silica-based mineral will work, as long as it isn’t able to concentrate sunlight. Moss agate, while not a “true” agate, is a lovely green type of cryptocrystalline silica. Jades are silicates, too.

For stones that shouldn’t get wet, like your gypsums and sulfides and such, you can always place them near indoor plants. Just avoid putting them in places where they’ll come in contact with water or the soil.

For quartz spheres, it’s best to keep them covered when they aren’t actively in use. (That’s a big part of where the custom of covering one’s scrying ball comes from.) If you have to put them in with your plants, either bury them entirely in soil or place them in a small, opaque bag first. Just keep them out of the sunlight.

That’s pretty much it. Do your homework on the chemical composition of your crystals, avoid stones that will actively turn into acid or poison when exposed to water, and be careful with the ones that’ll burn your house down.
Happy growing!

animals, life, Neodruidry

We have a spy.

J.

As the weather warms up, the crows come back in force. They distribute themselves around the perimeter of their territory, sending a single “caw” in a kind of relay. As far as I can tell, it seems to mean, “Hi, I’m a bird! Status update: Still a bird!”

This single “caw” is passed from sentry to sentry until something happens to disrupt it. That could be a cat, an owl, a snake, or the sudden appearance of a quantity of snacks.

One of these sentries is positioned in the big maple tree in the back yard. As far as I can tell, he has exactly one mission: Keep tabs on my comings and goings.

I know this because I hear his single cries throughout the day, echoed by the equally single cries of his family group. As soon as I show up on the back deck, that single “caw” turns into a rapid series of calls. If I start putting out the crow salad, the shouts get even faster and more high-pitched. By the time I turn around to go back inside, the apple trees and the roof are full of black shapes.

A pair of crows investigate a platform filled with crow food.
Pardon the raindrops on the window pane.

Sometimes, they don’t even wait for me to go all the way inside before they swoop in and start eating. If they’re particularly feisty, they’ll barely hop away when I go out to refill. This seems to be out of a sense of avian practicality, rather than fear — it really seems like they fly up to the roofs to wait in order to be out of the way, not because they’re genuinely wary of me anymore.

I’ve found a mix of food that doesn’t seem to appeal much to other bird species, so this family can feed safely without concerns about being hassled or coming into contact with pathogens from unrelated birds that might otherwise swarm the feeder.

I can’t be positive, but I’m also reasonably certain that this sentry is the same li’l nerd who came and stared in my bathroom window after my Handsome Assistant and I returned from being out of town for a few days.

I can’t overstate how helpful they’ve been to have around — they deal with nuisance animals, and I’ve gotten a ton of free garden plants from them (and one small bouncy ball). I love this band of weirdos so much. It always makes me so happy to see them.

life, Neodruidry

Happy Spring Equinox!

J.

Hello! It’s Tuesday. It’s also the Equinox, Alban Eilir, or, in some traditions, Ostara. (Unless you’re in the southern hemisphere, in which case: Happy Mabon!) This is essentially the second part of the celebrations of spring: Imbolc, the Equinox, and Beltane. If Imbolc is when spring wakes up, the Equinox is when it really gets going, and Beltane is the height of its strength.

Since it’s Tuesday, our celebrations this year are small. There’s a bigger ritual and feast planned for this weekend, but this weekend’s also likely to be very cold and rainy. Appropriate for early spring, but it does nonetheless put a damper on being outside. (⍩)

Many different colors and varieties of daffodils and tulips.
Photo by Vural Yavas on Pexels.com

As you read this, my Handsome Assistant and I will be replanting a rose bush. It’s a lovely bush with bright pink flowers, and I pruned it quite a bit to get rid of the crossed branches and dead wood. We’re moving it to the back yard, between the raspberries and the Carolina allspice sapling. That area gets tons of sun and, since the yard is essentially a hill, could use more plants to help absorb rainfall and keep everything in place.

I’m also planting some arugula and extra peas in the raised vegetable bed. I planted plenty of peas in containers, and they’re growing well already, but I’ve still got lots to use! The arugula came as a gift from an Etsy seller, secreted away inside a package with a beautiful vintage linen shirt. (This is part of why I love Etsy and indie sellers in general — I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten vegetable seeds, small crystals, stickers, or other fun things with orders.)

We’re also sifting through compost. Our tumbler is black and in a sunny area, so, between the solar radiation outside and the heat of biological activity inside, it fortunately manages to stay plenty warm all year round. It’s a good time to sort through, separate the finished compost from the still-composting scraps, and put it away for use in the near future.

A close up of a branch covered in pink cherry blossoms.
Photo by Anelia on Pexels.com

Otherwise, it’s time to air out the house some more, bring in fresh spring flowers, give all of the windows and linens a good wash, and use up the last of the food that was stored for winter.

This year, I’d like to honor Fliodhais. She’s an Irish Goddess of cattle and fertility, though, in the recent past, she was mistaken for a forest deity as well. I don’t have cattle, and I don’t drink milk, but some fertility could certainly help my garden right now. I’d also love to see the crows and other birds bring their babies back! There’s whiskey in the chalice, seeds for new growth, and blessed incense to release into the air.

Whether you celebrate this High Day or not, it’s hard not to see the way that the land is really reviving herself. Yards are full of spring ephemerals, there are red-breasted robins everywhere, and the shifting angle of the sun brings renewed light and warmth. Happy Equinox!

May the song of this, my blessing, be joined by the chorus of the birds in the sky,
May the spring breezes bring peace and balance.

Excerpt of AODA Air Blessing prayer
life, Plants and Herbs

Grassassination, a Year and a Half Later.

J.

It’s been a while since I’ve written about my ongoing battle against the lawn. It started with a tarp, then went on to solarizing, then sheet mulching, then replacing the unwanted turf grass with native groundcovers, to discovering some kind of gigantic alien mystery plant we didn’t plant that accidentally ended up being delicious.

So, since it’s been about a year and a half, how’s it going?

The grass hasn’t come back. Instead, the area is made up of (mostly) mulch, interspersed with some slow-growing moss phlox (Phlox subulata), bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), violets (Viola sororia), and echinacea (Echinacea purpurea) plants. Occasionally, I’ll find a patch of native wild onion (Allium canadense). The border closest to the house is made up of non-native strawberries, which the birds, squirrels, carpenter bees, and also I seem to enjoy. Along the front path, there’s thread leaf coreopsis (Coreopsis verticillata). In the center, there’s the little redbud tree (Cercis canadensis).

A white Phlox subulata flower.
A flower from one of the white Phlox subulata plants. These guys actually flowered pretty much all through winter!

There are also small mats of non-native “weeds,” like chickweed, purple deadnettle, and speedwell. These aren’t exactly what I was going for, but they do have several advantages over grass:

  1. I’m not allergic to them. Flowering plants like these are typically pollinated by insects. Grasses are wind pollinated. Wind pollinated plants are much more likely to be responsible for allergies, because their pollen ends up in the air (and eventually your eyes, nose, and lungs). This is also why bee pollen is generally not a great way to desensitize oneself to hay fever — it’s primarily made up of sticky, heavier flower pollens, rather than the wind-carried pollens that people with hay fever most commonly react to.
  2. They’re edible. Chickweed is actually pretty nutritious, and so is purple deadnettle. I’m not up on all of the nutrition facts and medicinal uses of speedwell, but I am assured that it is also edible.
  3. They’re not invasive enough to be restricted. While these three plants aren’t native species, they typically have pretty shallow root systems and aren’t super competitive.
  4. They require no effort. Unlike lawn grasses, they don’t need fertilizing, pesticide, weed treatment, or supplemental irrigation. While they’re not as beneficial as native groundcovers, they’re at least not a net negative like turf grass.
  5. They’re an early food source for pollinators and small herbivores. Since they’re not native to the US, they haven’t evolved alongside our native pollinators and thus aren’t really an ideal source of nectar. They do, however, provide more food that a mowed monoculture lawn does.
  6. Honestly, it looks better. I’m not a fan of the manicured look of suburban lawns. This spot has a ways to go still, but tiny blue, purple, and white flowers and multi-hued foliage beat grass any day.

Tiny blue speedwell flowers.
Itty bitty speedwell.

Should anyone run out and sow a speedwell, deadnettle, or chickweed lawn? No, not in the US. (Non-native clover lawns aren’t really a great idea, either.) Nonetheless, I’m in less of a hurry to eradicate these plants than I was to get rid of the grass. It’s reassuring to see other plants moving into an area that was once a mowed, lifeless monoculture.

And, if you’re an invasivore, you can always eat them.

Bright purple Phlox subulata flowers.
Some of the purple moss phlox. Oddly, these guys didn’t flower as resiliently as the white did. They’re putting out more flowers now, though!

This year, the plan is to plant more moss phlox and bee balm, and maybe another coreopsis or two. I’d also like to find a source for native strawberries. These grow in slightly different conditions to the cultivated strawberries you usually see in garden stores and groceries and are a good addition to “edible landscaping” plans. For now, I’m pretty happy with the progress this little patch of dirt has made!

life

The Return of the Great Big Ennui

J.

Note: This post contains a brief mention of self-termination.

Hello! I’m mentally ill.

I’ve never seen the point of beating around the bush about it. As a child, I was taught that there was a stigma around mental illness, therapy, and medication (a lesson that, among many others, luckily didn’t take). It just didn’t make much sense to me — if my pancreas or thyroid didn’t work the way it was supposed to, and I needed medication to help me, would I be ashamed? Why is it suddenly different if it’s brain tissue instead of glandular tissue?

I also don’t use person-first language for myself. I don’t have a mental illness. I have jackets and shoes I can take off if I want to. I have hair I can shave off if it annoys me. I am mentally ill. I can’t take that off like an itchy sweater. I’ll use person-first langauge for other people if that’s their preference, but it’s not for me.

So, cyclothymia (sometimes known as bipolar III) is marked by periods of hypomania, alternating with a kind of depression I refer to as “The Ennui.”

Why ennui? I call it ennui because, for me, it’s a feeling marked by bone-deep, existential boredom. Nothing is exciting. Nothing is inspiring. The things I usually enjoy become thin, gray, muffled, and flavorless. I start to be afraid that nothing will ever make me happy or enthusiastic about life again. And every time, I begin wondering if I should “encompass my own demise,” as it were, and save myself some time.

I also call it ennui to trivialize it to myself. To name a thing is to gain a measure of power over it. To name a feeling of anhedonia so deep that it threatens my existence, and name it after something as unserious as ennui, helps shrink it a little bit. It’s a reminder that this state is fleeting — just a temporary eddy in my various brain sauces, however unpleasant it may feel.

This ennui happens completely irrespective of what else I have going on. It happens on its own inscrutable, irregular schedule, independently of my hormonal cycle, the time of year, or anything else. I could have an event that I’ve been looking forward to for months and, when I hit an ennui cycle, that feeling deadens completely. I could have absolutely no reason to feel down, sad, or uninspired, and my brain chemistry literally could not give less of a shit about any of that.
If it’s ennui time, it’s ennui time.

Fortunately (for a very questionable definition of “fortunately”), this has happened often enough that I know, on a logical level, that it’s temporary. I certainly don’t feel it in the thick of things — that’s where a lot of that worry comes from, the idea that this is forever and I will only ever feel this way for as long as I live. But it’s always been temporary before.

There’s no cure for this. There’s barely treatment for it. I use an SSRI to handle the symptoms of panic disorder, but those typically aren’t the best for your various bipolars. Nonetheless, I’d rather have to deal with periodic ennui than the absolutely brutal panic attacks I used to experience, so here we are.

(Because I know there are caring people out there who offer advice because they don’t want to see another person suffer needlessly — I have a very good supplement regimen and diet, based on some in-depth blood tests and the advice of my excellent general practitioner. My GP is also a psychiatric nurse practitioner, so I’m all good on that front.)

So, if I haven’t been posting as much lately, it’s because I haven’t been doing much lately. I go through the motions — cooking, cleaning, doing paid writing gigs, tidying up the garden, making plans in the hopes that I might one day actually care about doing them — but there’s a very deep sense of “why bother?” about it all.
What difference does any of it make in the face of eventual oblivion?
Will the heat death of the universe care if I get dressed or not?

If this sounds like you, or someone you love, remember this: It’s temporary. It won’t feel like it is when you’re in the moment, but it is. Eventually, it’ll lift. When it does, do the things you need to take care of yourself. Set up a simplified routine that you can follow, even in the midst of an ennui. It won’t fix it, but it’ll make it more bearable and keep you from backsliding and feeding further into that despair.

For me, it looks a little like this:

  • A simple exercise routine. At one point, all I could do was tai chi in bed, so I did that. Now, I do about ten minutes of stretching, and ten more minutes of literally any other intentional, somewhat vigorous movement. It’s not going to get me jacked or anything, but that’s not really my priority at times like this.
  • Several simple sets of clothing. My criteria were that they had to be inexpensive enough for me to have several of them, so I could rotate them and have clean clothes even when I wasn’t able to do laundry. They also had to be comfortable, but something that I could conceivably leave the house in if I absolutely had to. Lastly, I wanted something that wasn’t disposable “fast fashion” or made of synthetic fibers that would annoy my skin. I decided on a set of recycled silk caftans, and they’ve worked out really well for me.
  • Simple, reasonably healthy food that requires very little energy to prepare. Sometimes, when I feel The Ennui coming on, I make a big pot of lentil soup or kitchari and a loaf of bread to last me through the worst of things. Other times, I eat a lot of stuff like this instant split pea soup. It has a simple ingredient list, plenty of protein, fiber, and potassium, and not a ton of salt. Open it, plop it in a bowl, microwave, done. I also like having a bottle of vegetable juice, some kind of protein powder, shelf-stable plant milk, and a fortified breakfast cereal on hand, just to fill in the gaps.
  • Simple hygiene. A low-maintenance haircut and uncomplicated skin- and haircare. Trader Joe’s facial cleanser and some jojoba oil. Lip balm. If I feel up to it, some hyaluronic acid serum. Moisturizing body wash, so I don’t need to bother with lotion. Even when I don’t have the energy for anything else, it at least keeps my skin clean and feeling okay.
  • A pill organizer. My memory is very damaged from pseudotumor cerebri at the best of times and seems to get worse when my mood dips. A pill organizer ensures that I don’t miss anything and accidentally make myself feel even more terrible.
  • Something to listen to. It doesn’t really matter what it is. I prefer listening to YouTubers or podcasts, only because having a person talking as background noise seems to be more helpful than music alone. I like:
    • ManlyBadassHero, for very relaxed horror game playthroughs. The games might be scary, but the videos very much aren’t. They’re chill and funny.
    • Zachary Michael and Zachary Michael Also, for reaction videos. Zachary Michael can be a bit polarizing (people seem to either love them or can’t stand them), but I enjoy their videos. They’re upbeat, funny, and often very heartfelt.
    • WiLLo Davis, for other reaction videos. Willo is also a musician, and the parody songs he makes to go with his videos are just *chefkiss*.
    • Dreamingofavalon. This channel has been more-or-less on indefinite hiatus for a long time, but their old videos are very lighthearted, upbeat, and uplifting. Lyn went on to start Desert Plants of Avalon with her partner, Hans. These videos have the same general feel as Dreamingofavalon does but are all about cacti and succulents.
    • SeizureRobot5000, for very specific reaction videos. SR5000 makes videos about musician, YouTuber, and dank food hacker Josh Saunders, alias KingCobraJFS, and they’re some of the funniest things I’ve listened to (especially the videos with Chauncey).
    • Robert Welsh, for makeup and beauty. I don’t care about either, but I could listen to him do deep dives into beauty companies all day. Some beauty industry controversies are bonkers.
    • I also like the Last Podcast on the Left. In particular, I usually listen to their series on Aleister Crowley when I’m feeling bad. Their cult, occult, and paranormal content is my favorite, but they also have a lot of true crime and alien episodes as well.
    • This Paranormal Life is a smaller comedy podcast put out by two best friends. In each episode, they investigate a paranormal tale, case, or claim and determine if it’s truly paranormal or not. The hosts’ chemistry and humor are fantastic, and I’ve loved every episode they’ve put out.
    • I’ve also gotten into watching Chinese historical dramas, like Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace. I don’t even necessarily watch the episodes in order. They’re just beautifully costumed and full of intrigue.

Remember, any self-care worth doing is worth doing badly. I may not be able to home cook meals, but reasonably healthy packaged food is better than no food at all (or eating half a jar of olives while standing over my trash can). I may not be able to exercise, but a few minutes of stretching or walking in place is better than not moving at all. This is one situation where half-assing something beats the alternative.

I don’t know if this will help anyone, but it helps me. Remember, this feeling doesn’t last forever. It doesn’t even last all that long, though it can certainly feel like it. The trick is to have a simple plan in place so you can properly take care of yourself in the midst of it all. Set this up when you don’t need it, so you can lean on it when you do.

life

… And then, somehow, we came out ahead.

J.

Remember when my Handsome Assistant’s car got stolen? And we found it because of a pair of sunglasses? And it came with free Takis?

Anyhow, we went through the whole rigamarole. Talked to the insurance. Talked to police. Had it towed to a place. Had it towed to another place. Had it checked out, then towed to another place for Reasons, I guess.

Long story short, the cost of fixing the damages exceeds the value of the car. It’s totaled.

Even longer story short, this is possibly the best thing that could have happened.

Look, we’re cheap frugal people. We try to live below our means. He doesn’t take out loans or buy new cars because the way that car valuation works is bad and silly. I don’t take out loans or buy any cars because my eyes are mostly decorative at this point. We make it work.

This is how he was able to haggle a really good price on his last car. Couple that with trading in the car that got poisoned in Mississippi, and the total that he’d paid is actually significantly less than its value. Like, it would cost more to replace the car at its current book value than he originally paid for it.
And, depending on how the law shakes out, we might still be able to trade in or sell the totaled car (for parts, but still).

“But Jec,” you may be saying, “You guys’re still out a car, and that sucks.” And yes, you are correct. It is less than optimally convenient.

However, after the Mabon celebration (where we accidentally gatecrashed a youth group, my Handsome Assistant almost got hypothermia, and we ended up sleeping in the trunk), we came to the conclusion that it might not be a completely terrible idea to look at other models of car once this one bit the dust. I suggested a wagon, because we could use the extra cargo space. He wanted a hybrid or EV. We kind of shrugged it off for the time being, because his current car was working fine and we weren’t in any rush.

Now, not only do we have a reason to look at cars that better fit our needs, but we also have some extra dosh to do it with.

I don’t know how we ended up benefitting from what is, objectively, a really sucky situation, but I’m happy. ᕕ ( ᐛ )ᕗ

I should get some Takis to celebrate.

life, Neodruidry

Happy Imbolc 2024!

J.

Yes, it technically started at sundown yesterday, but it still applies.

According to traditional weather divination, we could be looking at a long, cold winter yet. Today’s a bit rainy, but yesterday was sunny and mild. A mild Imbolc means the Cailleach has made the weather pleasant so she can go out and collect enough firewood to last for the rest of the season. If winter were going to end early, she wouldn’t bother, and it’d be miserable outside.

A stack of firewood.
Mild, sunny Imbolc? The Cailleach’s out gathering firewood for a long, cold winter. Photo by Lum3n on Pexels.com

There are a lot of ways to celebrate Imbolc, but I’ve gotten into a nice groove of making it my spring cleaning day. It’s a time that makes me excited for the season ahead — I want a fresh house, a filled fridge and pantry, and some promising divination, you know?

I have a large Brigid candle that I lit last night, snuffed before bed, and lit again this morning. We’re cleaning and decluttering. There’s a loaf of fresh baked einkorn bread, a pot of soup, a pie, and a batch of cookies.

Most importantly, I’ve decided to rearrange my entire house so it stops making sense.

I was raised (well… “raised” seems a bit generous, but follow me here) to accept convention. When something seemed questionable or, frankly, stupid, I was told that that’s how it was done.
“That’s the style.”
“The other way would be wrong.”
“That’s silly.”
I feel that this has been instrumental in making me the spiteful pain in the ass that I am today.

My house is, like many other homes from the 1940s in this area, built in a Cape Cod style. It’s meant to be very efficient when it comes to keeping the hot sun out during summer and cold drafts away during winter, so it doesn’t have large windows. Fortunately, it faces the southeast, so we do still get plenty of light. The living room, where we spend most of our time, has a little eastward facing window. In other words, we end up missing out on the best light most of the day.

My studio, on the other hand, is a bit bigger than I need it to be. It also has a lovely west-facing window that lets in the most gorgeous sunlight in the late afternoon. The late afternoon that I usually spend in the living room.

“Self,” I says to myself, “Does it make more sense to keep my living room where it is just because that’s where living rooms usually go, or to move things around according to how we actually use these rooms?”

And this is why my living room is going into the bedroom-turned-studio, my studio is going into what used to be the living room, and we’re dedicating half of the living room-turned-studio-space to be a quasi-dining room. Yes, it’s confusing. It’s also a lot of work. I think it’s going to be very worth it, though.

As the land gets brighter and warmer, I want to (quite literally) bring more light into my life. Imbolc, for me, has always been about clearing, renewal, and preparation. I can think of no better thing than making room for more light and brightness here.

Brigid, Goddess of inspiration, fire, and healing, may you bring your brightness, warmth, and clarity to the rest of this year.

art, life

So, we went to the show!

J.

Last time, I mentioned struggling with imposter syndrome. Yesterday, my Handsome Assistant and I braved the cold (it is bonkers freezing right now, especially considering that it’s going to be like 60° F next weekend) and went to the opening of the art show.

The venue itself was beautiful (it’s history, not so much) and its tall ceilings, many windows, and twists and turns were very conducive to hosting a large art show without everything feeling too cluttered or busy. Sadly, I didn’t really get any pictures of the interior or the show itself (it would’ve been difficult to do without getting some of the possibly-unconsenting public in the shots) but you can see all of the entries here. Interestingly, the majority of them were portraits of people — there were fewer animals than I expected, though I did find one other lovely painting of a corvid.

The volunteers and other artists were all very nice, too. Everyone I spoke to was kind and helpful. We even ran into one of my Handsome Assistant’s friends, whose child had won an award for their work in the juried student exhibit.

While it was a nice outing overall (the artwork was beautiful and moving, the venue was gorgeous, and the rolling hills of the grounds were streaked with kids on brightly colored sleds), it was also pretty mentally exhausting. There’s a COVID surge, so being indoors in a group was a bit tense. I also felt a very acute sense of imposter syndrome. An inner critic kept telling me that I didn’t really belong there, that my work was only chosen to humor me, so I wouldn’t get discouraged and withdraw my membership. Anxiety turned what should have been a relaxing, inspiring day into a bit of an internal mess.

But still, we did the thing! As cold as it was, and as much as my various social anxieties kept urging me to pull out, we went and did it. All that remains now is to figure out how to make it easier on myself in the future and be more confident in my art. It’s something that’s much easier said than done.