Like any good American, I'm a full-blooded mutt. :) I have German and Scottish blood in my from my mother's side (prolly others too), and Welsh blood from my dad's side (and others!) I think I also had ancestors from Norway, although I could just be making stuff up. lol
While my mom and sister have done some work on building a family tree, I've never really cared that much. It was enough for me to know where my roots are. However, learning the stories of how my roots moved from Europe to the US are fascinating. For example:
Four brothers came to the US from Germany looking for, what else, opportunity and the American Dream. However, for one reason or another, they chose to go their separate ways. Each took a different spelling of their name (my line is Stoll) and went off to settle in different parts of the United States.
That is my family history. Other people may have stories of what happened in the civil war or underground railroad or even Revolutionary War. But I don't have any stories like that, not that I've been told, anyway. However, I think the story I do have is AMAZING! I know that when my mom is looking up family members for the family tree, she's tracking down those missing brothers. And sometimes I can't help but wonder, how many other people are our there with this same history, this story of four brothers coming from der Mutterland and going their separate ways with different names?
30 June 2010
27 June 2010
Fun Day!
Yesterday, Camden and I had a "fun day." Well, we took a break from the "fun" to go grocery shopping, because that's what we do on Saturday mornings, but the rest was geared towards fun! After shopping, Cam and I went to the park (he rode his bike; I walked) and played until it was too blasted hot to move. So we came back home and played with his cars and read books. He watched a couple of episodes of the Backyardigans.
And in the afternoon, after a lunch of chicken nuggets, we went to the movies! The last time I can honestly remember going to watch a movie was over three years ago, when Meet the Robinsons was in theatres. Oddly enough, that was the last time Camden had been to the movies, too. But Toy Story 3 is out, and having loved the first two, I absolutely had to see it, so I thought it would be a fun treat. Oh, Cam really liked the Toy Story movies also, so I figured he would enjoy the new one, too. ^_^ So we went and enjoyed the movie very much (except that Camden started getting tired about halfway through, and he was also getting bothered with the 3D glasses, and the fact that I was crying like a baby through the whole last half hour. lol)
Once home, we continued our playing until dinner time, when I grilled some hotdogs (Cam's absolute favourites.) I like my hotdogs practically burnt, so I made some that were nice and black, though most of them were normal not-quite-so-charred grilled hotdogs (for Camden.) Except that when I let him pick out his hotdog, he chose one of the burnt ones! It makes me happy to see that he takes after me (and, I believe, his great-uncle Mike.) Dinner was followed by more park time, except that this time we both walked. :)
However, the day was not all fun and games. :( When I gave him his bath, I noticed a razor in the bathtub and moved it to the sink counter, so he wouldn't hurt himself. Well, wouldn't you know it; later on he was messing around in the bathroom, and somehow brought his hand straight down on the blades. He sliced a bit off one of his fingers and bled quite a bit, but no worries. He told me this morning, it was a "little bit better."
One of the better parts of the day, though, was him going to bed. I read him a few books, turned on the night light, covered him up, gave him kisses, and left. Five minutes later I walked by on my way to the bathroom, and we was fast asleep. Can I just say that never happens?
And in the afternoon, after a lunch of chicken nuggets, we went to the movies! The last time I can honestly remember going to watch a movie was over three years ago, when Meet the Robinsons was in theatres. Oddly enough, that was the last time Camden had been to the movies, too. But Toy Story 3 is out, and having loved the first two, I absolutely had to see it, so I thought it would be a fun treat. Oh, Cam really liked the Toy Story movies also, so I figured he would enjoy the new one, too. ^_^ So we went and enjoyed the movie very much (except that Camden started getting tired about halfway through, and he was also getting bothered with the 3D glasses, and the fact that I was crying like a baby through the whole last half hour. lol)
Once home, we continued our playing until dinner time, when I grilled some hotdogs (Cam's absolute favourites.) I like my hotdogs practically burnt, so I made some that were nice and black, though most of them were normal not-quite-so-charred grilled hotdogs (for Camden.) Except that when I let him pick out his hotdog, he chose one of the burnt ones! It makes me happy to see that he takes after me (and, I believe, his great-uncle Mike.) Dinner was followed by more park time, except that this time we both walked. :)
However, the day was not all fun and games. :( When I gave him his bath, I noticed a razor in the bathtub and moved it to the sink counter, so he wouldn't hurt himself. Well, wouldn't you know it; later on he was messing around in the bathroom, and somehow brought his hand straight down on the blades. He sliced a bit off one of his fingers and bled quite a bit, but no worries. He told me this morning, it was a "little bit better."
One of the better parts of the day, though, was him going to bed. I read him a few books, turned on the night light, covered him up, gave him kisses, and left. Five minutes later I walked by on my way to the bathroom, and we was fast asleep. Can I just say that never happens?
20 June 2010
Solstice (a day late)
The longest day of the year has passed. The Holly King again walks the earth, while the Oak King bides his time in the underworld. This is a time of declination. The days grow shorter, imperceptible amounts each day, as we begin our trek towards Yule. We celebrate a time of abundance, when things are at the height of growth and progression, a height we can only appreciate by thinking back to the depths of winter, and also thinking forward to the same.
Oddly, despite the fact that it is 90 degrees (F) outside, I've been thinking of winter. I suppose it is like how in the depths of winter, I think of summer. I'm not looking forward to winter by any means (for winters here in NEMO are cold and windy and not fun), but I look forward to what it means. That the earth has completed another cycle of the sun. That the wheel has completed another rotation. Another year has gone by. That life gains its meaning from the eventuality of death, and death gains its meaning from life. Life is meaningful to me. In 100 years, I doubt anyone will know my name. But my life gains meaning in the lessons I've learned and the values I've passed/will pass on to my children. I can take all that with me, for I believe in the continuity of the soul, of harboring many lifetimes of lessons. (Which, of course, we forget the moment we're reborn. Quite unfair!) Our lives mimic the seasons. We are born in the depths of winter, by spring we are beginning to blossom with our physical, emotional, and mental developments, in summer we are young and fertile and growing, in fall we enjoy the bounty of our summer in the form of children and life accomplishments, and in winter, just as we were born, we die.
But, for now, it is summer and the Earth is glorious in her youth. Happy Solstice (one day late ^_^)
Oddly, despite the fact that it is 90 degrees (F) outside, I've been thinking of winter. I suppose it is like how in the depths of winter, I think of summer. I'm not looking forward to winter by any means (for winters here in NEMO are cold and windy and not fun), but I look forward to what it means. That the earth has completed another cycle of the sun. That the wheel has completed another rotation. Another year has gone by. That life gains its meaning from the eventuality of death, and death gains its meaning from life. Life is meaningful to me. In 100 years, I doubt anyone will know my name. But my life gains meaning in the lessons I've learned and the values I've passed/will pass on to my children. I can take all that with me, for I believe in the continuity of the soul, of harboring many lifetimes of lessons. (Which, of course, we forget the moment we're reborn. Quite unfair!) Our lives mimic the seasons. We are born in the depths of winter, by spring we are beginning to blossom with our physical, emotional, and mental developments, in summer we are young and fertile and growing, in fall we enjoy the bounty of our summer in the form of children and life accomplishments, and in winter, just as we were born, we die.
But, for now, it is summer and the Earth is glorious in her youth. Happy Solstice (one day late ^_^)
16 June 2010
Loving a Silent Child
In my head, I call Camden my Silent Child. Although he is fully aware and comprehending of the world, it is still hard for him to express feelings, thoughts, anything abstract. He can tell me the color of something almost all the time (he has trouble with the color grey, who woulda thunk it?), he can tell me what something is (sometimes surprising me at his knowledge), he can count. He can even pretend. He likes to cook playdough foodstuffs, if he's wearing his fireman outfit, he'll put out fires. Last week he was in his bath, and I heard him making his bath toys talk to each other: he'd never done that before.
My Silent Child. He talks. He tells me very basic things about his day. He tells me if he wants something, what he wants. Last night he asked me something and said "pleasepleasepleaseplease" which made me laugh, because he'd never done it before.
He's further along than he was. But his progress is still happening at a snail's pace. He's four years old; strangers should be able to understand what he's saying more than half the time. I can only understand him (without him repeating what he says over and over again) about half the time. People who don't know him or don't spend very much time around him have almost no chance of understanding what he's saying. While this is hard for me, not being able to understand my child, I can only surmise how difficult and frustrating it must be for him, to not be understood. And the worst part is that there's nothing I can do about it that I'm not already doing. Reading books, playing word games, speech therapy, praying, asking the gods for assistance. My Silent Child, who is slowly finding his sounds.
I don't know why I posted about this, except that it's been running through my head for the last week though, my worry over his speech. And writing is cathartic.
My Silent Child. He talks. He tells me very basic things about his day. He tells me if he wants something, what he wants. Last night he asked me something and said "pleasepleasepleaseplease" which made me laugh, because he'd never done it before.
He's further along than he was. But his progress is still happening at a snail's pace. He's four years old; strangers should be able to understand what he's saying more than half the time. I can only understand him (without him repeating what he says over and over again) about half the time. People who don't know him or don't spend very much time around him have almost no chance of understanding what he's saying. While this is hard for me, not being able to understand my child, I can only surmise how difficult and frustrating it must be for him, to not be understood. And the worst part is that there's nothing I can do about it that I'm not already doing. Reading books, playing word games, speech therapy, praying, asking the gods for assistance. My Silent Child, who is slowly finding his sounds.
I don't know why I posted about this, except that it's been running through my head for the last week though, my worry over his speech. And writing is cathartic.
14 June 2010
I be versatile!
Yep, that's right. I got the versatile blogger award. Like a week and a half ago. Oops. I'm a slacker, what can I say? It came from the always lovely inannasstar over at Ramblings of a Domestic Goddess. And a thousand and one thanks to her! :)
The rules for " The Versatile Blogger" award are:
1. Thank the person who gave you this award.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic!
4. Contact the bloggers you've picked and let them know about the award.
( Rules are flexible, in case you're not good with rules!)
Now for my seven facts... Hrm.. This could take a while...
1. I love dancing in the rain. Of course, this includes jumping in puddles and just standing in downpours.
2. My favourite pizza topping is ham/canadian bacon with pineapple. It's delicious!
3. One of my favourite books is Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank. It's a post-apocalyptic book based on what would have happened if the world used nuclear weaponry. Come to think of it, about 60% of my favourite books are survival-type books, where a character is stranded in the wilderness, or there's been some horrible catastrophe and civilization as we know it no longer exists.
4. I HATE long showers. They are pointless, waste water and energy, and are just dumb. What is the fun of standing in hot water for 30+ minutes while doing nothing? Sorry, but I'll get my kicks somewhere else, thanks. (Same goes for baths.)
5. I wish I baked more. I love baking, and I love eating stuff that I've baked. But, well, I'm trying to get into shape before I keel over while chasing Camden around the yard. Which means I'm choosing not to eat cookies every day... However much I'd like to. That, and it's too hot to turn the oven on.
6. I know where there's a waterfall. In NE Missouri. It may only be about 3 ft high, but it's still a waterfall!
7. I'm afraid of cows. If they're on the other side of a fence I can deal, but being on the same side of a fence with a cow, or especially with more than one, makes me really nervous. I blame this entirely on a dream I had way back when. In the dream, a bunch of cows were chasing me, so I climbed a tree to escape them. Well, I escaped them, but then they started taunting me. Calling me chicken and telling me to jump down so they could trample me. And, if you follow my blog, you know that sometimes my dreams have a tendency to come to pass, so I'm always terrified any cow I see is going to chase me up a tree and start heckling me. lol
Here is where I'm supposed to nominate people. But I'm not going to. However, if you're reading this, and the last fact about me made you laugh, I will gladly pass this award on to you. :)
13 June 2010
Dreams
I've had two dreams in the last month where I woke up while trying to protect Camden from some danger or another. The first was a zombie apocalypse dream, the second was a tornado. While I realise zombies don't exist and could in no way endanger Camden, that dream really freaked me out, aside from the fact that I'm terrified of zombies. In the dream, I had just left him with some people while I went for help, and then I woke up. And all I could think was, "Oh, gods, I left Camden!" The feeling of abandoning a child is not a fun feeling. This morning I awoke from a dream that a tornado was coming and I was huddled over Camden in a closet, trying to protect him. Waking from this dream wasn't nearly as horrifying as the first, probably because I had still been with him in the dream.
And then the thought occurred to me: Do our dreams end when we wake? Yes, they end for us, but do they continue on their own? Are dreams really made up by our subconscious, or do we somehow jump into a dreamworld when we sleep? (And, yes, I realise I'm being rather silly by speculating on this. I just think it's a neat thought.) In my dreams, I can always recognize my parents' house, although it looks nothing like my parents' house in real life. And from dream to dream, year to year, the dream house does not change. In my dreams, I can recognize my high school, although it, too, is nothing like my actual high school. Other buildings and places, too, but those two stand out the most in my memory. The only time I can remember a dream being exactly like real life is during one of those moments when I realise "I've dreamed this."
But, like my parenthetical said, I'm just being silly and speculating and theorizing about something that is rather unlikely.
On a side note, I've started reading Way of the Goddess, and while some of the exercises and meditations are interesting, the rest of it is not really my cup of tea. Ah, well, I'll continue on and see if it changes. :)
And then the thought occurred to me: Do our dreams end when we wake? Yes, they end for us, but do they continue on their own? Are dreams really made up by our subconscious, or do we somehow jump into a dreamworld when we sleep? (And, yes, I realise I'm being rather silly by speculating on this. I just think it's a neat thought.) In my dreams, I can always recognize my parents' house, although it looks nothing like my parents' house in real life. And from dream to dream, year to year, the dream house does not change. In my dreams, I can recognize my high school, although it, too, is nothing like my actual high school. Other buildings and places, too, but those two stand out the most in my memory. The only time I can remember a dream being exactly like real life is during one of those moments when I realise "I've dreamed this."
But, like my parenthetical said, I'm just being silly and speculating and theorizing about something that is rather unlikely.
On a side note, I've started reading Way of the Goddess, and while some of the exercises and meditations are interesting, the rest of it is not really my cup of tea. Ah, well, I'll continue on and see if it changes. :)
09 June 2010
New Books
When I was at my parents' house, my mom gave me a bunch of books to sell at Hastings. Originally, I had planned to sell for cash, but I found a couple of books that I didn't mind spending 'ghost' money on.
One of these is by Scott Cunningham, Earth, Air, Fire, & Water: more techniques of natural magic. I love, love, love Cunningham's books. Even with their strong Wiccan flavour. He had a new book published last year, did you know? They found the manuscript in his things after he died. It's an American Traditionalist's Book of Shadows. Now, I'm not usually drawn to published books of shadows, but seeing one by him, and thumbing through it, I have to say I was tempted. Mayhaps one of these days when I'm looking to spoil myself.
The other book I found was Way of the Goddess by Ann-Marie Gallagher. Like any neo-pagan book, it contains the usual: exercises/meditations, spells, rituals, brief history. Actually, now that I have it, I'm not entirely sure why I bought it, except that at the store, I knew I had to have it. And let me tell you, I am NOT an impulse shopper. In fact, I carried it around with me for twenty minutes or so while I looked at other books, which is normally the amount of time it takes me to go, "I don't really need/want this." But that thought never crossed my mind. It still hasn't. I'm glad I bought it, I just don't know the exact reasons why.
One of these is by Scott Cunningham, Earth, Air, Fire, & Water: more techniques of natural magic. I love, love, love Cunningham's books. Even with their strong Wiccan flavour. He had a new book published last year, did you know? They found the manuscript in his things after he died. It's an American Traditionalist's Book of Shadows. Now, I'm not usually drawn to published books of shadows, but seeing one by him, and thumbing through it, I have to say I was tempted. Mayhaps one of these days when I'm looking to spoil myself.
The other book I found was Way of the Goddess by Ann-Marie Gallagher. Like any neo-pagan book, it contains the usual: exercises/meditations, spells, rituals, brief history. Actually, now that I have it, I'm not entirely sure why I bought it, except that at the store, I knew I had to have it. And let me tell you, I am NOT an impulse shopper. In fact, I carried it around with me for twenty minutes or so while I looked at other books, which is normally the amount of time it takes me to go, "I don't really need/want this." But that thought never crossed my mind. It still hasn't. I'm glad I bought it, I just don't know the exact reasons why.
06 June 2010
What is needed
This morning, Cam and I were out sitting on our porch/overly large step enjoying the air. It was light and chill, but damp with the morning's dew. Camden was playing with a cafe rod, meant to be hung with curtains in his room, but since the curtains have yet to be made, it is his walking stick. His idea, not mine. He went off to the sidewalk with his stick, and was turning in a circle saying "Go away wet" or some such. I smiled to watch him, and asked, "Camden, are you doing magic?"
And you know what he says to me? "No. Me no have wand." And I couldn't help but laugh. My son, the ceremonial magician.
I don't have many tools for working magic. Well, as I've said before, I don't work much magic, so I don't need many tools. :) But I have some crystals, I have a small (copper?) cauldron, and I have a chalice. Oh, and a broom that stays in my car. (So I can say I took my broom to the store. haha) When I was younger and first starting out in the Craft, I just knew I had to have an athame, a bolline, a wand, and whatever other tools the books told me were absolutely necessary to have. But, I was in the closet. And I was poor. And I was selective. And so it has taken me nearly ten years to amass a grand total of zero tools, not counting my cauldron and chalice. One of these days, I might just find the perfect knife. I might just find the perfect stick to make into a wand. I might fill a large leather-bound tome with all the "secrets of my Tradition" and call it my Book of Shadows (or Grimoire, which I find to be much more Romantic-sounding.) For now, though, I guess I'll just make do.
And giggle at the temerity of my son, the Proper Witch.
And you know what he says to me? "No. Me no have wand." And I couldn't help but laugh. My son, the ceremonial magician.
I don't have many tools for working magic. Well, as I've said before, I don't work much magic, so I don't need many tools. :) But I have some crystals, I have a small (copper?) cauldron, and I have a chalice. Oh, and a broom that stays in my car. (So I can say I took my broom to the store. haha) When I was younger and first starting out in the Craft, I just knew I had to have an athame, a bolline, a wand, and whatever other tools the books told me were absolutely necessary to have. But, I was in the closet. And I was poor. And I was selective. And so it has taken me nearly ten years to amass a grand total of zero tools, not counting my cauldron and chalice. One of these days, I might just find the perfect knife. I might just find the perfect stick to make into a wand. I might fill a large leather-bound tome with all the "secrets of my Tradition" and call it my Book of Shadows (or Grimoire, which I find to be much more Romantic-sounding.) For now, though, I guess I'll just make do.
And giggle at the temerity of my son, the Proper Witch.
05 June 2010
Familiars
I'm going to start the post off by saying: oh my goodness I am a slacker! And I just haven't had anything to talk about, really. Ah, well. Such is life, right?
The topic of familiars is well known throughout the pagan community, I would think. So I'm not going to waste my time, or yours, explaining what a familiar is and all that. I've never had a familiar. That isn't to say, though, that I haven't developed a close bond with any particular animal.
Several years ago, about five or six, a black cat showed up at my parents' house. Not an unusual occurrence, since my parents live out in the middle of nowhere and people who decide they don't want their pets for whatever reason seem to think that dropping them off in the middle of nowhere is the best option. But this cat, I believe, was special. I'd seen him wandering about a time or two, and then one day as I was driving home from school, I saw him walking alongside the road. And since I'd always wanted a black cat, I stopped, hoping I'd be able to catch him. Wouldn't you know, he came right to me? He let me pick him up, take him to my truck, and drive the rest of the way home with him on my lap.
I never got around to naming him, or I could never find a name that fit him, so he became Cat. (A few years after Cat showed up, another black cat started coming around, one who looked just like Cat, except his face was a bit more triangular. Whenever I saw him, I'd say "Hey Cat" then realise it wasn't Cat and I'd say "You're not Cat!" Guess what his name is? Uh-huh. Not-Cat.) I would say that Cat and I have a bond that, while maybe not magical, is something more than what I've shared with any other animal that I knew. I wasn't able to bring him with me when I left for college, but I knew that he would be miserable cooped up in an apartment and unable to go out in the woods and terrorise birds and mice.
I've been at my parents' for the past week (which is part of the reason for my not posting after my "return") which meant I got to see a lot of Cat. He's no longer pure black. He's starting to get white hairs here and there, which means he's getting old. Which makes me doubt that he'll ever come live with me. I am still stuck in an apartment, and even when I get a job somewhere in a few years, I will likely still be stuck in an apartment and not a place he would enjoy living. I know my parents appreciate him (I think he's their favourite) but I miss my Cat and want him to live with me. Aside from that, though, I doubt I'll find another animal, feline or otherwise, with whom I have such a rapport.
The topic of familiars is well known throughout the pagan community, I would think. So I'm not going to waste my time, or yours, explaining what a familiar is and all that. I've never had a familiar. That isn't to say, though, that I haven't developed a close bond with any particular animal.
Several years ago, about five or six, a black cat showed up at my parents' house. Not an unusual occurrence, since my parents live out in the middle of nowhere and people who decide they don't want their pets for whatever reason seem to think that dropping them off in the middle of nowhere is the best option. But this cat, I believe, was special. I'd seen him wandering about a time or two, and then one day as I was driving home from school, I saw him walking alongside the road. And since I'd always wanted a black cat, I stopped, hoping I'd be able to catch him. Wouldn't you know, he came right to me? He let me pick him up, take him to my truck, and drive the rest of the way home with him on my lap.
I never got around to naming him, or I could never find a name that fit him, so he became Cat. (A few years after Cat showed up, another black cat started coming around, one who looked just like Cat, except his face was a bit more triangular. Whenever I saw him, I'd say "Hey Cat" then realise it wasn't Cat and I'd say "You're not Cat!" Guess what his name is? Uh-huh. Not-Cat.) I would say that Cat and I have a bond that, while maybe not magical, is something more than what I've shared with any other animal that I knew. I wasn't able to bring him with me when I left for college, but I knew that he would be miserable cooped up in an apartment and unable to go out in the woods and terrorise birds and mice.
I've been at my parents' for the past week (which is part of the reason for my not posting after my "return") which meant I got to see a lot of Cat. He's no longer pure black. He's starting to get white hairs here and there, which means he's getting old. Which makes me doubt that he'll ever come live with me. I am still stuck in an apartment, and even when I get a job somewhere in a few years, I will likely still be stuck in an apartment and not a place he would enjoy living. I know my parents appreciate him (I think he's their favourite) but I miss my Cat and want him to live with me. Aside from that, though, I doubt I'll find another animal, feline or otherwise, with whom I have such a rapport.
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