February Eve is the start of the festival of Brigit. Though the spring equinox on March 21st is accepted by most as the first day of Spring, Imbolc or Oimelc is the first day of Spring in the farmer’s year, marking the first stirring of seeds in the ground. Farmers test the soil to see if it is thawed enough for the first plowings and snowdrops spring up in the spots where Brighid was been. Oimelc, Imbolc, Imbolg, or Imbulc is derived from oi, “sheep,” and melc or melg, “milk,’ hence oi-melg, “ewe-milk,” for this is the time the sheep’s milk comes. Imbolc honors Brigit, the three-fold goddess of fire, poetry, and healing. Unable to destroy the reverence of the Irish for this goddess, the Church was forced to invent a saint, St. Brigit, to steal her fire (forgive the pun). She is the patron saint of cattle and dairy farming. In France, especially Brittany, she became St. Blaize, patron of healers and protector during harsh winters.

Brigantia is the day of Bride or Brigit, the Celtic Goddess in her young woman aspect. Each year, at the first glimmer of dawn, the Cailleach is transformed into the fair young Goddess Bride. She travels throughout the countryside on the Eve of her festival, bestowing her blessings upon humanity. Just as the Cailleach carries a white Druid Wand or slachdan made of birch, willow, bramble or broom, so too does Brigid. This wand controls the weather but whereas the Cailleach’s rod brings storms and harsh weather, Brighid’s brings warm winds and new life.

Perhaps one of the most important aspects of this festival is the lighting of candles or torches at midnight, and at her shrine in Kildare, a sacred flame burnt continuously, even after the site was turned into a nunnery. The flame continued to burn until the thirteenth century when it was extinguished by order of the local Bishop. It is said that the Mother Superior of the nunnery at Kildare hid a coal from the fire in a hollow rosary and it is from this coal that the fire was relit in Kildare in 1996. According to The Book of Dunn Cow, Brighid’s sacred number was nineteen, representing the nineteen year cycle of the moon. This is the time it takes from one new moon to the next to coincide with a specific date. In the Celtic Great Year, the new moon must coincide with the Winter Solstice. It was believed that on the twentieth day of each cycle Brighid herself would tend the flame.

Brigid is patroness of cattle and dairy work. Her love of animals is remembered by giving some special, tasty food to the cows and horses. She is also associated with the dandelion which is called the plant of Bride. According to legend, the milky juice of the dandelion is supposed to nurture young lambs in spring. Birds were also one of her animals, and they had great affection for her. In County Armagh, linnets are occasionally referred to as Brigid’s Birds, and if the lark sings on Brigid’s Day, it is an omen of a good spring. Brighid’s sacred bird was the Oystercatcher, giolla Bride (Irish – Brighid’s servant) or Brideun (Scots Gaelic - Brighid’s bird) which was said to guide people who were under her protection. Like the Groundhog in America, Brigit’s white serpent is said to come up from the mound in which it hibernates, and its behavior determines the length of the remaining period of frost. 

There are various ways of indicating that Bigit’s visit to the house and farmyard is welcome. A common token is the placing of a cake or pieces of bread and butter on the window-sill outside along with a sheaf of corn as refreshment for her white cow which accompanies her on her rounds. On the Isle of Man, her festival is called La’al Breeshey. A bundle of green rushes is gathered by each family. Standing with them in hand on the threshold of the door, Bridget is invited to come in and lodge with them for the night, saying “Bridget, Bridget, come to my house, come to my house tonight. Open the door for Bridget, and let Bridget come in.” (In the Manx language: “Brede, Brede, tar gys my thie tar dyn thie ayms noght. Foshil ee yn dorrys da Brede, as thig do Brede e heet staigh.” Afterward, the rushes are strewn on the floor by a carpet or bed for Bridget.

During her journeys, Brigit will touch the brat (a ribbon, a piece of linen or other cloth, a sash, scarf or handkerchief, or any garment) and endow it with healing powers. This token may be placed on the windowsill during the night, or it might be left on the doorstep, be hung up, or be thrown on a low roof. In Munster, it is often tied to the door latch so that she touches it when entering the house. Once blessed by virtue of her touch, the brat kept its virtue forever, and many believe that the older it is, the more potent it becomes. This charm is kept as a remedy against headache, but it will also keep the wearer safe from harm. Men often put out a belt, a tie or a pair of braces to gain this protection. This token also gives omens for the future. Its length is carefully measured and marked down, and when it is brought in again next morning it is again carefully measured against the marks. If its length increases during the night, this is a sign of long life, plentiful returns from crops and cattle, and freedom from accident, illness and misfortune.

Another feature of Brigid’s Eve is the Brideog or Breedhoge in which groups of young people travel from house to house carrying her symbol. They prepare an image of her from corn straw or a butter churn. The foundation of the figure might be a broom or a churn-dash, or some sticks fastened together. The whole corn dolly is padded and dressed, and the head and face might be mask or a piece of white cloth which has been suitably painted or colored or even a carved turnip. The effigy is supposed to come alive with the spirit of Brigit during the night, and offerings of food and drink are left out overnight for her as she journeys through the land, bestowing her blessing on the people and on their livestock. Food collected this way was blessed by Brigit and used in the communal feast. Sometimes the effigy is a well-dressed doll borrowed from a little girl, often re-dressed or decorated for the occasion, or a chosen girl, dressed wholly or partly in white, stood in for the goddess. Going from door to door, they would beg for alms for “poor Biddy.” Giving to Brigit was thought to bring good luck (especially with harvest), and the money and food collected went back to the community through the Church or the families of the children. If a doll or effigy was not used, then the most modest and beautiful girl of a particular area was chosen to represent her. She would wear a crown of rushes, Coróin Bhrigid (Brigid’s Crown), a shield on her left arm, Sciath Bhrighid (Brigid’s Shield), and hold a cross in her right hand (Brigid’s Cross). With a group of young girls, she was go from house to house on Brigid’s Eve or Brigid’s Morning.

A hoop of staw or rope about eight to ten feet long with four Brigit’s crosses tied to it, called the Crios Bride or Brigit’s Girdle, was carried from home to home. Men would step through it and women would lower it over their heads and step through it three times for protection from illness, especially ‘pains in the bones’, in the coming year. In a few places in West County Galway, there are stories of passing cattle through the crios Bride.The most usual type of cross was once the diamond or lozenge of straw, a universal feminine emblem. The next most popular type is made by doubling rushes over each other to form an overlapping-cross or “firewheel.” This is the kind found most often these days. A subtype of this, with three legs instead of four, exists in several parts of Northern of Ireland. It is considered the older form and may represent Brigid in her triple goddess form. Brigid’s cross it is protective against fire and lightning.

Brigit’s crosses are hung from straw in houses and barns to ward off lightning and fire, as well as illness and epidemics. The scrap left from making the crosses was not thrown away. In parts of Donegal, Tyrone, and Antrim, it was neatly arranged on the floor near the hearth, sometimes covered with a white cloth, to form Brigid’s bed for when she visited the house. Women might make a corn dolly from sheaves of corn or oats and place it in the bed to represent Brigit. In the Hebrides, the dolly was placed in a large basket with a wooden club by it. The lady and servants would cry out three times, “Briid is come, Briid is welcome” just before going to bed. In the morning, they looked among the ashes, expecting to see the impression of Briid’s club there. If they do, they augur a good crop and prosperous year. The straw from the bed was believed to have curative powers, and strands were preserved and tied about an aching head or a sore limb at night. In some houses, rushlights were made from the residue and lit in her honor. Others put a wisp under the mattress or pillow to ward off disease. In parts of Donegal, the fishermen wore a little ribbon from the residual rushes or straw and carried it when at sea for protection. 

A white cloth left out over night to collect dew is called Brighid’s Cloak. The dew is thought to have healing properties. Another tradition of Brigid’s Day tells that hoar-frost, gathered from the grass in the morning is an infallible cure for headache. Many people brought water from a sacred well and sprinkled it on the house and its occupants, the farm buildings, livestock and fields, to invoke her blessing. This was also a time for augury, especially by fire.

Colors: White, elemental colors- red, blue, and green, the gold and yellow of flame are also appropriate.

Decorations: bundle three ears of corn or grain to symbolize the triple Goddess and hang on the door, candles, Sun wheels/Brigid’s Crosses, Corn dollies, ribbons and swags of fabric  

Foods: Anything round like cakes and golden such as pancakes and crepes, whole grains, milk and other dairy items. Other options are spicy foods-to bring some warmth into this cold February day. Seeds represent growth. Fion Sméar, Blackberry Wine, is drunk to Brigid’s health and to promote fertility. Sowans (“fermented” oat porridge), apple-cake, fruitcakes, dumplings and colcannon are favorite foods of the holiday. Every farmer’s wife in Ireland makes a cake called Bairin-breac. Neighbors are invited, and the evening concludes with mirth and festivity. Butter always forms part of the meal and fresh butter is usually churned on the same day. The more prosperous farmers gives presents of butter and buttermilk to poor neighbors.

Activities: Make candles, sing, making a Brighid’s Cross, corn dollies and Brighid beds, burn the greenery from Yule to banish Winter and usher in Spring, leave an offering of milk, some buttered bread or some cake for the fairies and/or Brighid. This is a great time to begin Spring-cleaning and purify your home. Cleaning the hearth and laying a fresh fire is also done at this time. Clean and consecrate your magickal tools and work areas as well as your home. Imbolc/Candlemas is also a day for women to spend time together. Mothers plan a day of activities with your daughters.

January 31st

The Valkyries and the Norns are honored today. The Feast of Soldag is held to commemorate the appearance of the sun at the end of January in northern Climes.

This is a feast day of Hecate, lunar goddess of crossroads, witches, and the underworld. Statues of her were erected at crossroads where offerings were made to her at this time and during monthly Hecate’s Suppers sacrificed on the Full Moon. These suppers consisted of dogs, eggs, honey, milk, and black ewes.

I have been very sick the past few days with a nasty cold. I came home from work early on Monday, stayed home Tuesday, and I’m only just starting to feel better these last few hours since I got home from work today. I am still very tired though. So, there won’t be much of a post today aside from the holy days. Imbolc begins tomorrow though, so there will be a much larger post then, when I will hopefully be much better.

January 30th

The Altar of Peace, Ara Pacis, is a monument dedicated on January 9, 30 BCE by the Senate. This event is commemorated with the Festival of Peace, held in honor of the Roman goddess Pax. Pax and Irene, both meaning “Peace,” became common names in the Roman world, and Pax was imprinted on coins.

Livia was born on the 30th of January 58 BCE. In 39 B.C.E., she married Octavian Augustus and was deified in the reign of Claudius, Julia Augusta.

In 1948, Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi.

Do you bottle up anger, or do you let it out, and how?

As some may have noticed here, I express my anger mainly in my writing. In fact, I have often thought that my anger is what leads me to write and read horror. I had a terrible temper as a child, something I inherited from my father. But was it a genetic inheritance or the product of “nurture?” I don’t know. I do know that it was my father’s violence in the first year and a half of my life that caused my mother to leave him. It is his tremedous temper that has been most influential in my desire to suppress my own. I don’t want to lash out at people. Upon consideration, very few things are worth getting angry over. For the most part, the things that make other people angry just seem to make me sad once I’ve thought them through. I’m human. I get annoyed. But I don’t get angry like other people; I don’t lose my temper. I channel it into my “hobbies.”

People who bottle up their anger are the ones who hold a grudge. Not me. I try to forgive and forget. Holding on to anger is just too exhausting. I have better things to waste my energy on. I use my anger, and regrets, to create. I’ve said it before, but I am at my most eloquent when I am angry. By the time I finally quit school, most of my tormentors steered clear of a verbal confrontation simply because they weren’t up to an intellectual sparring match. You know what they say, if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit. By the time I got out of high school, I was more concerned with finding gum in my hair, being spat on in the stairwells, or being attacked on the way home. This happened on more than one occassion which is why I was in the habit of taking alternate routes home.

The anger I felt at this physical injustice, that is the anger that was the hardest to let go. That is the anger I use in my writing when certain characters die in ways most horrific. My childhood no longer makes me angry, but the memories still hurt. I suppose, in a way, I should be grateful for the misery of my childhood. Between all the books I read to stave off my loneliness and the raw fury of my experiences, I think it has made me a most effective writer, despite the fact that I am still unpublished. That is more a result of my procratination and fear of rejection.  It has also made me more aware of myself: how other people see me and the kind of person I want to be. 

Obviously, the best way to get rid of anger is to not feel it in the first place. If you can’t avoid feeling anger, you must learn to forgive. If you can’t forgive, you really must find a way to express it constructively. The best way to express any negative emotion is creatively. I do it with words.    

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

January 26th- No entries

January 27th

The Sementivae Feria, feast of sowing, is a Roman holy day. Janus is called upon first, then sacrifices are made to Tellus, the earth, and Ceres, goddess of agriculture. All the minor deities who presided over the operations of farming are invoked: Vervactor, the god of breaking up fallow land; Reparator, of renewing its powers; Obarator, of ploughing; Occator, of harrowing; Imporcitor, of drawing furrows; Insitor, of grafting; Sarritor, of hoeing; Subruncinator, of weeding; Messor, of harvesting; Convector, of gathering in; Conditor, of storing up; Promitor, of bringing out for use. At the end, the farmers add to their prayers, sive deo, sive deoe “any unknown god, male or female.”

January 28th- No entries

January 29th- No entries

Socrates_Cafe: Can democracy and/or freedom be forced on people who don’t want it? What is the difference between an act of war, and an act of terrorism? What are the moral and practical implications of the religious aspects of the current U.S. political campaigns?

I don’t feel anything can be forced on people who don’t want it. You can try to make people obedient to your will, but in the end, it is their choice to agree with you or not. They are also at liberty to change their minds once you turn your back. They are Free to choose, they have a right to choose, not to espouse democracy.

Can democracy be forced on people? It would be better to ask if our “brand” of democracy can be forced on people. We don’t practice a true democracy; no one does. True democracy is closer to socialism than our government is willing to attempt, and we all know how our government feels about socialism (or is it just the republicans who get their panties in a bunch over the concept?). If our military actions over the last hundred years prove nothing else, it is that people may adopt our form of democracy under duress, but it is only a surface change. The same people are often still in charge, and even when they are not, the same ideology is still in play. Republican democracy degenerates too easily into cronyism and dirty politics, just as it has here. So I guess in that way we have an excellent track record in spreading our special kind of democracy.

The same is true of forcing “freedom” on people. Isn’t that an oxymoron? If you force someone to be free, aren’t you enslaving them with your idea of what their freedom should entail? The people who we attempt to “free” may already consider themselves free; in which case, our interference is a burden. Mostly what we force on them are a different set of choices. Is that synonymous with freedom? Some would say yes; others would say it depends upon the choices. By forcing our idea of freedom on others, we assume that their way of life is flawed. We want them to exchange their ways for ours and assume that they will be grateful. That is seldom the case. In this way, forcing people to be “free,” forcing them to adopt your ways over their own, is an act of terrorism.  An act of war is a disagreement that can be arbitrated if the warring parties will get off their high horses and make peace. An act of terrorism has no room for arbitration. It is one group forcing another group to be something else.

People are individuals. Some will embrace their freedoms; some will not. Some will choose to interpret their freedoms in a way that is onerous to those who share the same freedoms. Look at the freedom of religion in our country. Many, many people (Christians) seem to think freedom of religion applies to their own religion or sometimes only their sect and no one else’s. If you practice a minority religion, then best of luck because freedom of religion does not apply to you! I am being facetious here, but you get the idea. Provided those who practice minority religions do not make themselves known to the majority, they (the majority) are willing to live and let live, but if you make any attempt at expressing your own beliefs in a public way, don’t expect to be welcome with open arms. Only Christians are allowed to be public with their religion. If anyone else expresses their beliefs, the Christians become offended by their very existence. They become paranoid that the other faiths are trying to convert them or their children…. their fear  is practically xenophobic.

In our country there is a separation of Church and State. However, every person (supposedly) has a right to choose their religion and express it in public, as per freedom of speech. What I find completely contemptible are candidates who express their religion only as a way to appear moral or righteous. More often than not, they are paragons of neither concept. The more a candidate declares “his” religious fervor, the less I believe “him.” It’s a case of “methinks he doth protest too much.” And again, there’s that separation of Church and State thing. I have no problem with a religious candidate, but they shouldn’t drag their religion into the political arena. They shouldn’t make political choices based on their religion. If elected to office, the president (or other representative) has a responsibility to All the citizens of the country, not just the ones who share “his” religion.

A politician who constantly drags his or her deity into the political arena is seldom as religious as they’d like us to believe. Furthermore, a candidate who later proves to espouse none of the qualities his or her deity supports is essentially dragging their God through the mud by association. I do not trust religious candidates because by the very nature of the position they are attempting to gain, they are supposed to be impartial representatives and protectors of our rights. I candidate or politician who publicly calls upon God in his or her campaign or quotes from their holy book is essentially saying their their god-concept is more relevent to their position than my god-concept. I politician who cannot keep his religion private, or at least not cite It as a reason for ”his” actions, is not fit for office. A politician by the very nature of “his” job must strive to be aware of all of the needs of “his” people.

January 25th

Old Disting is the feast of the Disir, the Norse guardian goddesses. A major festival was held to honor all the Aesir at the temple in Uppsala, Sweden.

“If it should thunder on St.Paul’s Day, great winds follow.” According to folk tradition, a nice day today meant nice weather all year. Snow or rain brought a bad year for crops. Clouds or mists meant a bad year for animals, and thunder was a forerunner of windy days.

For several weeks now, the light on the women’s side of the gym has been going, since Christmas in fact. At first I thought it was funny… you know, hiding the unsightly flab of the holiday cookie massacre, but yesterday as I sat down at a machine to start working out, the lights went out completely! I mean, how am I supposed to exercise in complete darkness? I ended up going out into the larger gym and using the equipment there, but boy am I feeling it today. Maybe I should just stop using the lady’s side of the gym altogether and work with the machines that make me feel it more. Still, it kind of bothers me that they still haven’t fixed the lights in the women’s gym. Much of the gym itself is devoted to men’s equipment and some uni-sex, but that doesn’t mean women should be treated like their exercise needs are less important. It’s nice that they have a private gym for those women who may feel self-conscious about their bodies, but sometimes I feel like having women in the gym annoys the men.

Sometimes I get a really bad vibe from the place, but that may just be because so many people have a negative self-image. No one’s been rude to me, but sometimes when people are waiting to use equipment, or I am waiting to use something, I get the feeling that the people there are really very angry that they have to share. Then I feel anxious and I just want to leave, forget about finishing my workout. I am not pleased with my body, but I’m not ashamed of working out to improve it, so my anxiety has nothing to do with my self-image. I wouldn’t even say that my self-image is all that bad; there’s just room for improvement.

I am beginning to think that a gym may not be the best place for an empath. I wish I had the room; I’d buy one of those all-purpose home-gyms that can be adjusted for many different activities.

It has also seemed like the last few weeks… okay the past month… everytime I had the time to clean, something happened… I’d get sick or have a headache, etc, etc. So today I planned to clean, and wouldn’t you know it, I had a headache. I took some painkillers, which dulled it a bit, but didn’t kill it. But I persevered. Some of my plants have been crying for a while now, so I pulled them out of their pots to transplant them. Poor babies! They were so root bound! I had no idea. I only just transplanted them about a year ago. They shouldn’t have been so root bound as all that! So I found some larger pots than I had intended, but then I didn’t have enough soil, so I had to go to Kmart.

They only had little bags of soil because they kept the larger bags outside. Apparently they had gotten wet and frozen together! Well gee! Imagine that, bags left outside getting wet and freezing together in the winter. lol They had two kinds of soil indoors. One was a Jiffy grow thing that weighed hardly anything at all when I picked it up. Yeesh, why would I buy a bag of peet? It’d just wash away as soon as I watered. The other bag said it was for violets, but I figured it would be okay. It was still much lighter than I would have prefered, but my plants don’t seem to mind it. If I had been able to get one of the big bags of potting soil (the ones that weigh about the size of a small child), I probably would have looked into buying some more large pots and repotted all my plants. As it is, I repotted the four worst. The others seem happy enough that they can wait till spring.

At some point, my headache disappeared. Maybe it was all the dirt I inhaled while repotting, but it always seems like if I can keep active and get my mind off it, I can usually kill a headache through neglect. If I sit and bemoan my “affliction,” it just gets worse…. like it’s my new pet and I’m giving it treats it likes. That’s why I take off from work so seldom if I have a headache… if I can get to work, the headache will usually disappate after a few hours of hard labor. If I’m so debilitated that I can’t get myself to work, there’s nothing to do for it but go back to bed and hope to sleep it off. Working the headache off just works better.

Now I am really very tired (though it’s only 6:30pm) or maybe it’s just the alluring call of my pile of comic books which I picked up yesterday and have not yet dived into.

January 24th

The Cornish Tinner’s and Seafarer’s Day is an old Labor Day celebrating a new season of sailing and mining.

The 10th day of Pamenot is the Day of the Coming of Thoth.

The Alpha-Carinids meteor shower begins now and ends on February ninth. It is a little known southern hemisphere shower. The best viewing occurs on January thirty-first.

Soul_Meets_Body767 asked about “making way for Khnum” which I noted as a holy day for yesterday. Unfortunately, aside from the name of this holiday, I don’t have any information about how it was celebrated. Khnum or Khnemu (Khnoumis-Greek) was depicted in the form of a ram in the early New Kingdom. Later he was seen as a man with a ram’s head, his long wavy horns adorned with plumes, a disk and a uraeus (rearing cobra). At Elephantine (Abu), he was the guardian of the source of the Nile and was thought to cause the inundation. It is said in the third dynasty that a great drought struck Egypt due to neglect of this god. When the country had nearly been destroyed by famine, king Tcheser went to Khnemu’s temple and made offerings (most likely of fish and barley). Khnemu appeared and promised a yearly inundation of the Nile waters from his two caverns, providing proper worship was restored to him.

Khnemu and his consort Satis and their divine child, Anuket, made up the Elephantine Triad. Sometimes his consort is given Heqt (Heket), the frog-goddess. With Heqt (who later became merged with Hathor) he assisted at birthing ceremonies. More importantly, he was a creator god, shaping the sun within the cosmic egg. His name literally means, “the molder.” He shaped the child on his potters wheel and then implanted it in the womb of an expectant mother. As a wind god, he bestowed upon the infant the “air of life.” The gods were also created in this way. Khnemu was known as the “Father of fathers” and ”Mother of mothers.” It seems likely to me that his festival, “making way for Khnum,” may have had something to do with the reproductive aspect of his godhood.

It is thought he may have originally been a goddess and was sometimes addressed as Neith. But while ideas about this god changed over time, he held an exalted position among the Egyptians and continued to appear on Gnostic talismans for two to three centuries after the birth of Christ. Within himself, he was thought to unite the bas (one part of the Egyptian soul concept) of Ra, Shu, Geb, and Osiris, and was portrayed with four rams’ heads upon a human body. In this way, he represented fire, air, earth, and water. He is also known as Khnemu Khenti Nethemtchem Ankhet (Khnemu, Lord of the House of Sweet Life), Khnemu Khenti Per-Ankh (Khnemu, Governor of the House of Life), Khnemu Khenti-Taui (Khnemu, Governor of the Two Lands {upper and lower Egypt}), Khnemu Neb (Khnemu, Lord), Khnemu Neb-Ta-Ankhtet (Khnemu, Lord of the Land of Life), and Khnemu Nehep (Khnemu the Creator).

Okay…. now I kid you not on this one…. Khnemu has been linked via Geb to the Chaos Goose, also called the Great Cackler because it was the first creature to break the primordial silence. As the Chaos Goose, Geb would lay an egg, the sun, every morning. As the daughter of Geb, Isis was sometimes called the “egg of the goose.” See… not as funny as it sounds… though still… it kind of is. Just the idea of a Chaos Goose is funny.

January 23

One Tooth Rhee Day is a Korean feast day honoring the mythical inventor of the odd custom of having bureaucrats wear four hats to give contradictory orders to workers.

Braciaca Dydd, the Day of Braciaca, begins at sundown and continues until January 24th.

The Day of Hathor occurs on the 9th day of Pamenot.

The Theta-Centaurids meteor shower is a little known southern hemisphere shower, beginning on the twenty-third of January and ending March twelfth. The best viewing occurs on February first.

TidBitz posted this: Please explain in length any opinions you may have on eating cloned animal. I am against it, simply because it defies nature and the proper order of things.  Manipulating science and nature for personal gain seems so wrong, and I feel that even though I dont know..there has to be some kind of karmic hooba jiggy that iwll come to us later and we will regret it.  But tat …that is not a valid reason.

What do you think? I said to my hubby, FDA approved cloned meat for consumption, then my husband….says, “Why not?”  Ugh. he doesnt eat veggies either. And he loves soda and isnt green. But he is always so compromising and willing to listen. I think I am the only person he ever encountered with so many opinions! And mine are pretty strong.  He eats food for pleasure.  He enjoys life for what it is, not for what is behind thos or that. He doenst questions everything, but he isnt a sheep following the rest of the herd (thank goodness!) 

Anyway…please tell me what you think about eating cloned animals.

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No, I wouldn’t eat cloned or genetically altered meat. For one thing, cloning doesn’t mean a perfect duplicate, no matter that the word implies it. There are imperfection in the copy which cause the animal to die sooner and have a low quality of life. Though some might argue that it’s okay since the animal will soon be eaten anyway, I still think all living creatures have a right to a certain quality of life, especially if it is going to be food. I will only eat free range animals when I do eat meat (fish or fowl), which is about once a week or less.

They say you are what you eat, so I would rather not eat an unnatural animal that was force-grown, fed on who-knows-what chemicals, and basically mass produced like an article of clothing or a plastic spoon. It’s not just that the meat would be “soulless,” but that the potential for the animal or meat to suffer and for us to consume that suffering is too great. I don’t know for sure, but it seems to me that if you allow a creature to suffer excessively for you before you eat it, maybe that’s not so good for your karma. Of course, I’m an empath so eating meat for me is problematic to begin with. If I didn’t live with a bunch of carnivores, I’d probably stop altogether.

Imperfect duplicates and genetic alterations can also have unforseen consequences when mutations in the proteins occur. For instance, Mad Cow disease is caused by a mutated protein called a prion which cannot be destoyed by cooking. So what if cloning created an even more virulent kind of prion or some other mutation that no one knew about until it was too late. If cloned meat became a common practice and the USDA’s standards on checking remained as low as they are, it would be a disaster. Anyone who wasn’t initially cut down by the mutated meat would probably starve for lack of non-genetically altered food.

Bad enough the cloned foods, but the genetically altered stuff is even worse and under the guidelines of the USDA, they don’t even have to tell us about it. I’ve heard that they’d put human DNA in pigs, and I forget what kind of animal they mixed with a tomato, but who would want to eat stuff like that? They don’t even know what effect the altering will have on the genetic structure of the plants or animals, but they’ve already had some “leakage” from altered plants in test patches outdoors (in Britain). One theory is that eventually altered plants and animals will be inedible to us because of new forms of protein and therefore only cloned matter will be safe for consumption.

January 22nd

St. Vincent is a one of a number of Christianized forms of Apollo. St. Vincent’s day is important to the wine industry as he is considered the Patron Saint of wine growers. It is said, If the weather is fine, you’ll enjoy the wine! According to grape lore, if the weather is good on this day, the crops will be good this year. 

If the sun his beams display,
Be sure to mark his transient beam,
Which through the window sheds a gleam;
For ’tis a token bright and clear,
Of prosperous weather all the year.

 The Day of making way for Khnum occurs on the 8th day of Pamenot in the Egyptian calendar. 

This is the birthday of Sir Francis Bacon (1561-1526).

You know what drives me nuts? I can look at the footprints for my blog and see who’s been visiting my blog. I can see where they’ve come from, and even when someone’s googled one of my tags, I can see what it was that brought them in even if I can’t see who they are. But what really bothers me is when I can see someone got to my blog via an email and I don’t know who was talking about me or what they said!

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggg!!!!

lol

Goofy, I know.

I had a weird dream about a Shakespeare themed lottery ticket. Apparently I won $731 in my dream. Anyone know of a Shakespeare themed lottery ticket because I don’t know how to cash dream tickets, and I’d really like to see if I can win in this reality. I think it was call Stages in my dream. Funny thing is, despite being a literary sort, I really don’t like Shakespeare at all. The only story I can even stand is the Tempest. Most people like Midsummer Night’s Dream. I loathe it.

January 21st

St. Agnes’ Day is traditionally a time for divination by fire.

So, Friday night, I got home from work around midnight. It was cold and a little windy and very dark. I park in the front of the house, but for the sake of convenience, I usually go down the alley which wraps around the house to get my car facing in the direction I will leave in the morning. Friday night I turned down the alley and saw this black shadow sort of dodge behind the neighbor’s house. When I stopped the car, and let my eyes adjust to darkness there, I saw this huge black dog. I mean, our dog is large (great pyrenees/golden retriever mix), but this dog had at least a head on mine. He started baying at me, so I continued down the alley and came back around to the front of my house. The whole trip takes about two-three minutes. As I came back around and parked the car, I looked over at the front of my house and the black dog was on my porch!

I got out of my car and whistled to him. I’m no idiot. I left my car door open so I could jump back in if he got aggressive. I could tell by the tone of his baying and his body language that he was still a puppy and anxious, no matter how big he was. He trotted down from the porch, stared at me, then started baying again and took off down the alley. (WTF? Hound of the Baskervilles?!?) So I got my stuff and went inside. When I got in, our dog was waiting to go out side. No problem. There’s a fence around our yard so she’s safe.

Now this is the odd part. Our dog isn’t good around other dogs. She barks and carries on like it’s the first time she’s ever seen another dog. When I let her out though, the other dog came right over and she didn’t bark at all. She just trotted right up to him and they looked each other over. Our dog’s been known to stare at walls and start barking (our house is haunted), so this was weird behavior indeed. The only thing that makes me think this was a real dog (and not a fetch) is that he had a collar on. Otherwise it was completely surreal. This was weirder than the time I went down the alley and saw an eight point deer trotting the other way, and much weirder than the time I was at the other end of the alley and a little owl hardly bigger than my hand flew across my path, landed about a foot away from my car, and turned its head all the way around to look at me.

After staring at our dog for a minute or so, the black dog turned to look at me, started baying, and ran off behind the neighbor’s house again. At this point, my mother and her boyfriend came downstairs because the dog had woken them up. They thought it was the other neighbor’s dog (which didn’t start barking at all until a couple minutes later, so maybe the big black dog went in the neighbor’s yard). My mother figures it was a great dane puppy, but we don’t know anyone in our neighborhood that has a new dog. I was most worried that it might get hit by a car since it was very dark Friday night and the dog was pitch black. I wanted to call the police, but my mother told me not to, so I don’t know what happened to it. Poor dumb puppy.

Then that night I had the dream about falling through different realities. It was like I came unstuck in my own reality and my reality kept shifting, becoming weirder and weirder. In one reality, everything liquified and oozed around me as if it had a life of its own. In another, I was standing on a street corner and everything was bugs moving at incredible speed around and past my feet. Everywhere I went, the “people” thought I belonged there, so apparently it was only my consciousness that was wandering. It appeared I had some semblence of control over the phenomena too, because I’d shift a lot more if I was anxious or if I put my mind to it. I really just wanted to get home though. So I shifted into a world that I thought was mine. It seems I had a husband, but in this world, he was actually my sister’s husband. Worse yet, the people in this world knew about my reality problem and wanted to study and harness it for their own use. So my sister’s husband pretended that he was my husband, but he was really a secret agent. He tried to grab me, but when I realized what was going on, I shifted and he went with me bodily. He fell into this pit where these “monsters” were infested with things which looked like trilobites. The trilobites would burrow into their bodies, mutating them as they did so and if the creatures felt like they were under attack, they’d shoot the trilobites at the predator. Only they all shot their trilobites at the guy and he became all deformed until he looked like an immense trilobite himself. Then all the other monsters stood back, scared, because they thought he was the monster.

January 20th

St. Agnes’ Eve is traditionally a night for dreaming deeply and truly. If a virgin dreams tonight of a man, she sees her future husband. In one version, she must fast all day and eat only a salt-filled egg or a salted herring at night. Another charm employed on St. Agnes Eve was the baking of the “dumb” cake, so called since it was made in silence. The cake made of flour, spring water, malt and sugar, could be made by a single girl, or sometimes by a small group. Other traditions said you must stick a load of pins in the sleeve of your nightdress before retiring.

On the 6th day of Pamenot, the Festival of Jubilation for Osiris in occurs in Busiris.

This is going to be one of those short but sweet entries because I have a throbbing headache (due to caffeine withdrawal) and I’d like to get a nap in before work to hopefully kill the headache. Last night I thought I saw a fetch-dog, and I had probably one of the weirdest nightmares of my life where I was falling through various realities. But I’ll post more about both tomorrow, among other things, since I’ll have off from work and hopefully my headache will be better by then.

January 19th

Thorrablottar, Husband’s Day, is sacred to the Norse God Thor. Men ceremoniously welcome him into their homes. Rising before anyone else, the head of a household is instructed to go outside clad only in his shirt and underwear and hop all the way around his home on one foot. Then he bids Thor welcome to his home. Wives are supposed to treat their mates especially well.

On the 5th day of Pamenot in the Egyptian calendar, the festival of Lights occurs as Neith Goes Forth from Sais.