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windinthemaplesSunday morning, Jenn treated us to the most fabulous vegan breakfast of my life--banana french toast with margarine and syrup and fresh picked blackberries from their backyard. YUM! Seriously, the vegan food gods might also be the practical joke gods because they were following our every move in New York. :D
As a birthday surprise for Sarah, who turned twenty-five last week, Jenn announced our big secret plans--we were going to visit Farm Sanctuary one of two farms run by the animal rights organization of the same name to provide shelter for animals rescued from factory farming conditions and to educate the public about those horrors. Not only was it this vista of red barns, rolling greenery, and beautiful animals, but it also was a haven for us as animal-lovers, too. Each of these hundreds of animals, ducks to cows, goats, sheep, chickens, turkeys, geese, pigs, had managed to secure for themselves a Black Beauty happily and safely-ever-after story. They'd gone through the most brutal conditions, bodily mutilations, at the hands of humans and somehow were still there being loving and accessible, approaching eagerly any newcomer with requests for pats and scritches. A drop in the bucket, right, considering the billions of their fellow animals that are slaughtered here each year, but it was like a safe place to love. I could brush the flies off the face of that bull, laying contentedly in the grass of his pasture, without having the slightest bittersweet fear for what would become of him. It was clear. He'd live there, die there, and be buried there. I can't describe it well enough. It was like a respite for me as a vegan where all the food around me was vegan, where all the animals around me were treated with the utmost of love and respect, and where the volunteers that massive workforce all shared my values. I could completely relax there, let down my guard, and feel peaceful.
We went on a tour of all the buildings and fields, made a lot of new animal friends, and then meandered back to the gift shop where I bought just about every junky-junk vegan convenience food they had on offer from Crispy Cat candy bars to a school lunch reminiscent pizza. We nuked some of our food in the staff microwave, had lunch there, stuffed a decadent S'Mores on top of all that pizza, and then piled back into the car for the drive home.
The long summer days really helped us get a ton of stuff done!
We drove the couple hours home, stopped at the grocery store for some picnic foods, and even visited a thrift store. At home, we had a great little picnic in their backyard before getting ready for Sarah and I's big planned ritual.
Sarah and I always talk about the ritual we should be doing anytime we are habitating in the same place at the same time. It never happens. We were technically in ritual together at Diana's Grove but that was a big group thing that neither one of us was really facilitating, so it doesn't count. How would our personal ritual styles mesh, if at all? This time, we planned things a little more, including me bringing some of my altar items so we could combine tools and scheduling Sunday night to devote to magickal whatnot.
Sarah and Jenn are the artists and magic-workers behind the Glamourkin jewelry line and I'm, besides their friend, a huge fan of their spells and invocations as art jewelry. So, imagine the joy and pressure my crafihobbled self felt when Sarah invited me to help her make my own Glamourkin pendant to charge in ritual and invoke something new into my life. It was an awesome magical process. I don't know how they do it because making one pendant, with a ton of help, took hours. :D But still, clumpy glue-job by yours-truly and all, I ended up with the perfect, soul-truth pendant. :)
It was late night when we went out to the dark and starry backyard, set up our joint altar, and cast the circle. It was perfect, acting together, finding and delivering the messages each had for the other, journeying out to the stars within ourselves. I felt filled up, reunited, powerful to the very edges of my being, aware, beloved. The silver-blue heatless fire of the Underworld poured into me and all my doubts about not being fiery enough were put to rest. I have a different source of fire and it is perfectly proportioned out for me. Within me is no mistake, no loss, no lacking. I am perfect for the Work I am meant for and supported by those, like Sarah, with whom my Soul has journeyed so often with.
I am complete. I am divine. I am loved. I am good.
What messages. Unfortunately, the Universe-at-large wasn't quite done with me until Monday morning when I encountered Universe Practical Joke #4. I'd had the perfect weekend. I'd hugged Sarah and Jenn goodbye and was prepared for my leisurely, nap-filled hour and a half flight home. I got through the security checkpoint and had sat to retie my running shoe when suddenly, like wet paper, my worn jeans separated in a giant gaping line and my thigh, crotch, butt went on display for all to see. It was like my jeans were trying to rip themselves into a denim bikini bottom by separating the entire pants-leg. HOLY SHIT, YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! MULLIGAN! I CALL A MULLIGAN! DREAM SEQUENCE CAN END NOW! Only, it didn't and I was stuck without any change of clothes or even so much as a spare sweater or something to tie over myself. I tried not to draw attention to myself and my plight as I gathered my bags, patted my butt to see how much of it was still covered, and walked with a silent tattoo plea of "Make me invisible, make me invisible, make me invisible" all the way to the bathrooms five or so gates away. Thankfully, there was nobody in there so I could really examine myself from all angles in the full-length mirror at the entrance. Okay, so it was better than I'd feared. It hadn't started to rip up the back or the front, where the heavy zipper and pockets preserved me, but otherwise it was pretty absurdly obscene. Someone might wear jeans like that as a ripped fashion, but they'd have to be hookers who'd gotten snagged on a barbed wire fence when trying to escape a pimp. There was only one hope for me--I'd have to rock it like it was intentional. Otherwise, everyone would stare if I went all embarrassed and announced it to everyone that my pants had ripped like whoa and thank god I wasn't wearing super attention-getting underwear but my super white skin against the denim blue was beacon to the eye enough.
I was laughing, but it was definitely tinged with a "Why me? Please stop this!" whimper. Well, at least I could tell everyone on LiveJournal. I took some photos which are too absurdly embarrassing, in retrospect, to show here, too. ;) So I left the safety of the bathroom, instead of attempting to will myself to die in it, and walked down to my gate. I had a lot of time before boarding to think about all the ways my pants could continue to split and the long, long, long walk in Chicago that awaited me. Shit. I had to do something. So I sat down with my backpack to think, and placed a few "God, please help me" phonecalls the Underworld and finally decided that I'd walk to the end of the terminal in hopes of finding some touristy sweatpants. Near the very end, with little hope left, I saw a sign for a store called, "Everything ASAP" and that joking trickster giggle sounded, "Even pants!" in my ear. And, thank merciful practical joking gods, there was a giant pair of men's sweatpants hanging on a rack in the back that, once purchased and cinched up, rolled down, rolled up, became the most comfortable fuzzy comforting ass-covering I've every had the joy to wear. ;) Oh sweatpants, I love you! I don't think I've ever been more grateful for a piece of clothing ever. I wanted to roll around and dance in those big, baggy "BUFFALO" sweatpants.
It was a great weekend. Perfect, really, right down to my pants-fail and heroic recovery. :D
A departing shot of Niagara Falls from my airplane.
As a birthday surprise for Sarah, who turned twenty-five last week, Jenn announced our big secret plans--we were going to visit Farm Sanctuary one of two farms run by the animal rights organization of the same name to provide shelter for animals rescued from factory farming conditions and to educate the public about those horrors. Not only was it this vista of red barns, rolling greenery, and beautiful animals, but it also was a haven for us as animal-lovers, too. Each of these hundreds of animals, ducks to cows, goats, sheep, chickens, turkeys, geese, pigs, had managed to secure for themselves a Black Beauty happily and safely-ever-after story. They'd gone through the most brutal conditions, bodily mutilations, at the hands of humans and somehow were still there being loving and accessible, approaching eagerly any newcomer with requests for pats and scritches. A drop in the bucket, right, considering the billions of their fellow animals that are slaughtered here each year, but it was like a safe place to love. I could brush the flies off the face of that bull, laying contentedly in the grass of his pasture, without having the slightest bittersweet fear for what would become of him. It was clear. He'd live there, die there, and be buried there. I can't describe it well enough. It was like a respite for me as a vegan where all the food around me was vegan, where all the animals around me were treated with the utmost of love and respect, and where the volunteers that massive workforce all shared my values. I could completely relax there, let down my guard, and feel peaceful.
We went on a tour of all the buildings and fields, made a lot of new animal friends, and then meandered back to the gift shop where I bought just about every junky-junk vegan convenience food they had on offer from Crispy Cat candy bars to a school lunch reminiscent pizza. We nuked some of our food in the staff microwave, had lunch there, stuffed a decadent S'Mores on top of all that pizza, and then piled back into the car for the drive home.
The long summer days really helped us get a ton of stuff done!
We drove the couple hours home, stopped at the grocery store for some picnic foods, and even visited a thrift store. At home, we had a great little picnic in their backyard before getting ready for Sarah and I's big planned ritual.
Sarah and I always talk about the ritual we should be doing anytime we are habitating in the same place at the same time. It never happens. We were technically in ritual together at Diana's Grove but that was a big group thing that neither one of us was really facilitating, so it doesn't count. How would our personal ritual styles mesh, if at all? This time, we planned things a little more, including me bringing some of my altar items so we could combine tools and scheduling Sunday night to devote to magickal whatnot.
Sarah and Jenn are the artists and magic-workers behind the Glamourkin jewelry line and I'm, besides their friend, a huge fan of their spells and invocations as art jewelry. So, imagine the joy and pressure my crafihobbled self felt when Sarah invited me to help her make my own Glamourkin pendant to charge in ritual and invoke something new into my life. It was an awesome magical process. I don't know how they do it because making one pendant, with a ton of help, took hours. :D But still, clumpy glue-job by yours-truly and all, I ended up with the perfect, soul-truth pendant. :)
It was late night when we went out to the dark and starry backyard, set up our joint altar, and cast the circle. It was perfect, acting together, finding and delivering the messages each had for the other, journeying out to the stars within ourselves. I felt filled up, reunited, powerful to the very edges of my being, aware, beloved. The silver-blue heatless fire of the Underworld poured into me and all my doubts about not being fiery enough were put to rest. I have a different source of fire and it is perfectly proportioned out for me. Within me is no mistake, no loss, no lacking. I am perfect for the Work I am meant for and supported by those, like Sarah, with whom my Soul has journeyed so often with.
I am complete. I am divine. I am loved. I am good.
What messages. Unfortunately, the Universe-at-large wasn't quite done with me until Monday morning when I encountered Universe Practical Joke #4. I'd had the perfect weekend. I'd hugged Sarah and Jenn goodbye and was prepared for my leisurely, nap-filled hour and a half flight home. I got through the security checkpoint and had sat to retie my running shoe when suddenly, like wet paper, my worn jeans separated in a giant gaping line and my thigh, crotch, butt went on display for all to see. It was like my jeans were trying to rip themselves into a denim bikini bottom by separating the entire pants-leg. HOLY SHIT, YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! MULLIGAN! I CALL A MULLIGAN! DREAM SEQUENCE CAN END NOW! Only, it didn't and I was stuck without any change of clothes or even so much as a spare sweater or something to tie over myself. I tried not to draw attention to myself and my plight as I gathered my bags, patted my butt to see how much of it was still covered, and walked with a silent tattoo plea of "Make me invisible, make me invisible, make me invisible" all the way to the bathrooms five or so gates away. Thankfully, there was nobody in there so I could really examine myself from all angles in the full-length mirror at the entrance. Okay, so it was better than I'd feared. It hadn't started to rip up the back or the front, where the heavy zipper and pockets preserved me, but otherwise it was pretty absurdly obscene. Someone might wear jeans like that as a ripped fashion, but they'd have to be hookers who'd gotten snagged on a barbed wire fence when trying to escape a pimp. There was only one hope for me--I'd have to rock it like it was intentional. Otherwise, everyone would stare if I went all embarrassed and announced it to everyone that my pants had ripped like whoa and thank god I wasn't wearing super attention-getting underwear but my super white skin against the denim blue was beacon to the eye enough.
I was laughing, but it was definitely tinged with a "Why me? Please stop this!" whimper. Well, at least I could tell everyone on LiveJournal. I took some photos which are too absurdly embarrassing, in retrospect, to show here, too. ;) So I left the safety of the bathroom, instead of attempting to will myself to die in it, and walked down to my gate. I had a lot of time before boarding to think about all the ways my pants could continue to split and the long, long, long walk in Chicago that awaited me. Shit. I had to do something. So I sat down with my backpack to think, and placed a few "God, please help me" phonecalls the Underworld and finally decided that I'd walk to the end of the terminal in hopes of finding some touristy sweatpants. Near the very end, with little hope left, I saw a sign for a store called, "Everything ASAP" and that joking trickster giggle sounded, "Even pants!" in my ear. And, thank merciful practical joking gods, there was a giant pair of men's sweatpants hanging on a rack in the back that, once purchased and cinched up, rolled down, rolled up, became the most comfortable fuzzy comforting ass-covering I've every had the joy to wear. ;) Oh sweatpants, I love you! I don't think I've ever been more grateful for a piece of clothing ever. I wanted to roll around and dance in those big, baggy "BUFFALO" sweatpants.
It was a great weekend. Perfect, really, right down to my pants-fail and heroic recovery. :D
A departing shot of Niagara Falls from my airplane.
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 05:29 pm (UTC)Again, love the photos, especially the ever curious turkey. XD
I love how you just take everything in stride. Even the "bad" moments sound like wonderful memories. Who else can say they mooned the Buffalo airport AND did a ritual in a 24 hour period? Good spirits and a sense of wonder. Love it!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 05:37 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed the photos. :)
I would say my most prominent personality trait is optimism which has developed in me a very healthy gallows humor. They always say tragedy is comedy with perspective, and I do tend to see the fun or adventure or irony or absurdity in all situations--even really bad.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 05:43 pm (UTC)This is just what I needed to hear. Thank you. Far too long I've felt like "OH CRAP SOMETHING BAD FLIP OUT" and look back later and laugh. If it's funny later, why not as it happens?!
Dude, who was your pilot and can he be my friend! That's AWESOME. Atlanta stinks because it's so busy so if you're delayed, you sit on the runway for hours and hours. I think it's awesome he decided to see if he could get some clearance to give an aerial tour of the falls instead of the pavement at the airport. :D
no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 06:52 pm (UTC)Farm Sanctuary.... so, so nice.
Except for the jeans it sounds lovely. Glad you found some sweatpants.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-16 01:07 pm (UTC)I've read about Farm Sanctuary. I'm glad you guys were able to visit & had such a nice time there. Sounds like a lovely trip all-around.
Sorry to hear about your jeans. :( That sounds like something that would happen to me. ;)
Love the new Glamourkin~ *hugs*