8th March, 2019 Friday
Well, the white of this blank virtual page is almost as numbing as the last four weeks of snow. Old Man Winter has vacationed fecundly in the Gorge shortly after groundhog’s shadow threatened his annual banishment early. Storm after storm piled the blanket feet thick swiftly in that first week bringing life to interior. I discovered how much I love buttered organic popcorn from a farm only 60 miles west of here which still managed to deliver stock as I drained ours.
So much like my mammalian cousin species who cannot like the cold, my hibernation gene kicked in. Wizard’s neuter recovery and Zoi’s first Season coincided bringing Husband and I enthrall to the logistics of how to prevent contact for two beloved fur babies in an opened floor planned house. X pen panels blocked staircases, an x pen crate erupted in the living room, we slept divided with selections of the furred and rotated turn outs to avoid nature’s call for life. Husband is a Saint, you all know that already. This, however, was the test of Titanic Patience. He has that. I do not deserve him.
My days grew still except for what I chose. A time for deep clean inside. I found a friend who introduced me to another two have many things to tell me.
Wizard has sounded the alarm for intrusion across his windowed vista. His bark is sharp and large and cannot be ignored. I rise to see what inspires his alarm and yes there are two deer drifting across the white of our western neighbor’s field. As they drift into the bared trees border I understand once more nature’s selcting color for the camouflage of winter.
Zoi is camoed cousin to the Deer. This time of year, if she is still I cannot see her in the set of monochromed Winter.
So this Season has brought on doubt about the wisdom of this relocation to the Gorge. Ain’t no wonder at the time Saturn returned once again as I am of that age. Saturn with its unequivocating acountability. Apparently, so my new friends tell me, yes, it was the Right Path. Its Lessons and all the ones before are just the right ones. I have not veered in my drowning out the Calls. I am never off my Path. And this where I am supposed to be.
Yes, I am one who looks at charts and reads the energies. I take time off. Large chunks of off. I had been raised to doubt these things. That instilled doubt comes and draws a curtain and I walk forward armed only with my logic.
Technology transitions computers so the esoteric apps, the ones with integrity can’t keep up and I lose patience amid the swirl of life’s demands to spend the time to parse the snarl of steps which unknot the tie on that closed curtain.
This Quiet Winter Cloaked Month stilled enough for my time to open for this techno puzzle. And Voila one day the Charts were there, once again, telling me I had not been alone with all those feelings about accountability.
So, yes, folks, I can read your chart, talk about your transits, even cast a chart for dogs, a meeting, move, new job, wedding, the USA, on and on. The stars are here. Neither Trump or Global Warming deters their touch.
We have been frigid til today for days and days. The Flock of Five has dwindled down to Four and The Geese have nested in the thicket not the manmade box and gifted Eldest with the first yet Goose Egg yesterday.
After 34 years of Little Winters in FLA, CA, and WA this Big Winter month has let me know the things my genes need from monochromed dim and cold. But now I wish for saturated light and warm.
Its coming, the Spring, oh yes, its still a certain, that that Old Man must lay his frost to bed and let the Faerie Spring dance across the Gorge.
Tea is Jasmine Green.
Ta.
Tea With Me 