Disconnected and Disillusioned

 I find myself feeling disconnected and disillusioned. Since my parents passed away five years go, the already thin threads that tied me to my family have become thinner and have been stretched to the breaking point. 

The calls, which were always rare, have almost disappeared completely unless I am the one doing the calling. I occasionally reach out because I promised my mother I would if something were to happen to her or my father. But there's only so much I can take of always being the one reaching out. In the 26 years I have had a home of my own, my family has never knocked on my door or stepped over my threshold no matter how near or far I lived from them. I have always been the one expected to travel to them, and I'm made to feel guilty when I can't or don't want to spend my little free time and money doing that. Not to mention that, without my parents, I feel even more of an outsider than I always have. It's a place of pain for me.

With the current state of our country, it's not particularly safe for us to travel there, but I fell beneath the weight of the guilt. I am stressing and anxious, and if I even breathe a mention of it, they blow off my fears as ridiculous and unnecessary. They aren't though. They do not read and hear the hate spewed at people considered "other" every day. We're other in so many ways, it would take ages to count them all. That makes travel particularly stressful. Where is it safe to stop along the way? Where should we avoid? Where can we stop for the night? Air BnB's are out because we do not want to surprise anyone with our existence in their home. Can you image inadvertently ending up in a rental home in the middle of nowhere and have the homophobic or transphobic owner show up for a surprise visit? 

Yeah, I don't want to risk that. I don't think my family will ever understand the inherent danger involved in that. Or maybe they do because there certainly weren't any open doors or empty beds for us once we got there. Guilt-tripping, Christian relatives who might as well have been reenacting the part of the Christmas story where there is no room at the inn. There was no room for us with any of them. I cried until my eyes swelled and I felt empty. Then I filled that empty with protective anger. I'm sure I'll grieve again later, but for now the anger is better.

Maybe the threads have finally snapped, and some things aren't able to be mended.

Tarot Thursday: Lenormand - Slavic Folklore Deck

I have really been struggling with my weight and all of the realities and feelings attached to that of late. I have a plan in mind to begin the journey required to reach my physical goals. I've failed so many times in the past that the thoughts of those past failures hold me back from even trying again. It's demoralizing to try and try and try with no success. But I have to do something. I can't continue on as I have been. I want to feel good about myself and happy in my own skin again. I am not asking to be skinny. I just want to feel good more days than not about how I look and feel.

I did  a reading to ask if my plans might be successful. It's a two card spread. The first is the issue at hand, and the second modifies it. I drew The Anchor and The Clover. How I interpret this is: If I stay steadfast and resolute to my plan and I do not let my doubt hold me back, then I will find success in my future. As I travel along this path, I should remember that happiness is not only in overall success but in the successes and happiness found in every day's wins.

I can work with that. It didn't take me a day to reach my current state. It's not going to change in a measurable way in a day either. I know this will be a long process. Longer than I want, but hopefully shorter than I imagine. I have milestones in mind to mark my progress. None of them are pounds and ounces.

I want to lower my blood pressure.

I want to improve my cholesterol. I am not taking meds now, and I do not want to have to do that.

I want to have fewer days with pain.

I want to look at myself and think I am pretty.

I want to be able to wear my favorite outfit again.

Witchy Wednesday: Magical and Practical Gardening

 

I can't remember a time in my life that I haven't loved having my toes and fingers in the dirt doing some sort of gardening. My whole family shared the work of putting in a big vegetable garden every year at my grandparents' place. We grew sweet corn, okra, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, multiple varieties of squash and melons, onions, radishes, and cucumbers. We also bought black eyed peas and purple hull peas, and October beans from local farmers. When the garden came in, we gathered together to harvest and then either freeze or pressure can what vegetables we didn't plan to eat fresh so that we'd all have some for the Winter. I learned to can and freeze and pickle and ferment all kinds of vegetables and fruits. Those Summer preservations helped my struggling family get through a lot of lean years.

Not all the gardening was practical. Some was for beauty and the sheer enjoyment of it. My mother loved roses and hosta, and we planted and tended  her both together when I was growing up. Purple roses were her favorites. My grandmother had beautiful raised beds of purple and yellow irises, and she planted impatiens and paintbrush plants, and princess feathers. She also had roses at the edge of the front yard. Seven Sisters heirloom roses. Around the base of the tree where our tire swing was, Grandmother had the prettiest tiger lilies and money plants. Just at the corner of her house close to the back door was a massive sweet shrub that I can still smell when I think about it. Its blooms looked like burgundy suede leather, and they smelled wonderful. 

The tire swing tree fell in a tornado, and the sweet shrub was pulled up years ago. We sold my mother's house after she passed, and  I don't know if any of the roses survived. I have tried to root and grow clippings of the Seven Sisters roses, but they won't survive our Winter here in Minnesota. I can't bring their gardens with me, but I can bring what they taught me to build my own.

Every year we've lived together, my wife and I have had some sort of vegetable garden, but we've really started building something permanent and expanding on it during the last five years. In 2020 when we were all on lockdown, we build three raised beds out of wooden boards and corner stone blocks. We planted what we called our salsa and salad garden: tomatoes, onions, peppers, cucumbers, and squash. That year was absolutely the most perfect weather for gardening. Given that we were all stuck at home because of the pandemic, maybe that was the universe's way of giving us a bit of a blessing to balance the bad. My father had just passed in February of that year, and gardening that Summer saved my sanity I think. It gave me something to focus on outside of myself and something that needed me to survive and thrive. I put all my energy into it. When the vegetables started rolling in, the harvest was immense. We at so many fresh vegetables with every meal. We canned and froze vegetables. We put bags and bags and bags of vegetables on our porch and messaged all of our friends in the area that they were more than welcome to drop by and do a pickup. A lot of people ate from our garden that year.

The next year, we decided to expand our garden and add another box or two. By then in 2021, the price of wood and other building materials had gone sky high. It was three times more expensive than it had been the year before to build one of our wooden boxes. We decided to go with a 4ft x 4ft metal raised bed instead to test out how well they stood up to the Minnesota weather. It started out as an herb garden and later transitioned into being the place where I  would plant zucchini and squash and pumpkin. The next year we added two archways made from cattle fence panels and used those to grow beans and cucumbers and even some small pumpkins. The next year we added two more 8ft metal raised beds to plant pollinator friendly flowers in and a star patterned metal bed to be my new herb garden. We've also added a big, free-form pollinator garden in the front yard, have planted a row of  Sonic Bloom Weigela in front of our house, and a long row of lilac along our front property line as a visual and audial barrier to the busy road. Two years ago, we also planted two Easter Redbud trees because they remind me of the mountains I grew up in. They were small and will probably take another year to full mature. I am hoping next year we will see early Spring blooms.

This year, we've decided to upgrade a few garden boxes from 1ft tall wooden boxes to new 3ft tall metal boxes. Neither of us look forward to crouching or kneeling on the ground in order to weed or harvest our current boxes. We are hoping the three foot eight will greatly reduce the strain on our backs and knees. And, it will have the bonus of putting the fresh produce far above the hungry mouths of our neighborhood bunnies and mice.

Our Winter this past year had a lot of harsh, negative degree days, and we didn't have the thick blanket of snow we normally do to insulate the plants from the worst of the freeze. This sadly meant that I lost almost all of the thirty six native perennial flowers I planted last year in our pollinator gardens. We also lost all of the old growth on one of our Redbud trees and all of our herbs other than our mint and chives. Our little blueberry bush isn't dead, but it's struggling to put on new growth. I am really sad to have lost my well established Marshmallow and Boneset and St. John's Wort. By the time I knew they weren't coming back, it was too late to buy new plants from the very few places that stock those medicinal herbs. I will have to start them from seed next year to replace. I have replanted several of the culinary herbs: oregano, thyme, sweet basil, borage, lime mint, and lemon verbena so far.

Maker Monday: Kitchen Witchery: Adventures in Low Carb Cooking - Moussaka

My endocrinologist has asked me to follow a 50g of carbs or less daily diet for the next two months. I did the low carb thing years and years ago when the Atkins diet was just starting to be known. It was the most miserable year of eating I have ever experienced. I felt like everything was a 'No, you can't have that!' and almost nothing I liked was a, 'Yes, you can.' 

Since I had my gallbladder taken out several years ago, my body just does not process highly fatty foods very well at all. I am almost instantly sick if I try to eat something fried or heavily oiled. I am also lactose intolerant, so that takes out a lot of the traditional dairy meals and snacks. Dairy alternatives have come a long way, but some dairy items are just not replaceable. I can thankfully take Lactaid to stave off most of the negative side effects from dairy for a good number of ingredients. I left the heavy cream in the recipe below, and I desperately regretted it. I will be switching it to an oat cream or a coconut cream next time. 

This dish was inspired by a Moussaka recipe in the Going Greek on Keto cookbook by Nicholas Diakos. 

We made some changes to suit our tastes and line up more with the ingredients we had on hand as well. I do not like egg plant, so I switched that out with thin slices of zucchini. We switched the ground lamb to ground pork to help prevent my wife's gout from flaring up due to red meat. I also used some of my home canned spicy marinara instead of store bought tomato sauce to reduce both sugar and salt. 

Low Carb Moussaka

Ingredients

1 pound ground pork

2 large zucchini squash sliced thin

1 medium onion diced

1 pint home canned spicy marinara

1 cup heavy cream

1 egg

1 1/4 cups mozzarella cheese shredded

1/2 cup grated Parmesan

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic

1/4 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon cardamom

1 teaspoon Italian herbs

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon lite salt

Additional pinch of Italian herbs and red pepper flakes for final seasoning (optional)

1) Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.

2) Brown ground pork in a skillet over medium heat. You could also use pork sausage, but be aware there may be added sugar and salt in pre-made sausage. While the meat is browning, slice the zucchini into either thin strips (think lasagna noodles) or thin rounds using a mandolin.

3) Add tomato sauce, spices, and herbs to meat and turn down on low to simmer stirring occasionally.

4) In a saucepan, heat heavy cream on medium low heat. Add a small shake of nutmeg. Stir in Parmesan and 1/2 cup of the mozzarella until melted and smooth. Remove cheese sauce from heat and take a small amount of the sauce out into a separate bowl to use to temper the egg so that it does not scramble. Add egg mix back to saucepan stirring until incorporated. Meat sauce should be done now.

5) Spray casserole dish with oil of your choice or non-stick spray. Put down a layer of sliced squash. Next add layer of the meat sauce and then a layer of cheese sauce. Sprinkle a thin layer of mozzarella over top of cheese sauce. Add second layer of each ingredient ending with your second layer of mozzarella. Sprinkle top with a shake or two of Italian herbs and a shake of red pepper flakes (optional).

6) Bake for 25-35 minutes until cheese on top is a golden brown. Let cool for about 10-12 minutes before eating so cheese sauce will thicken.

Nutritional Info

Calories per serving            450

Net Carbs                            8g

    Total Carbs      9g

    Fiber                2g

Protein                               21g

Fat                                       37g

After Cooking/Meal Notes:

Next time, we think we would use a cottage cheese and egg mixture in place of the cheese sauce like we do in lasagna.

We also prefer more vegetables, so we would add diced mushrooms to the meat sauce and put in another layer of sliced squash as well.

Translating a Memory into Art - Part 2 - Memorial Tattoo for Mama

Both of my parents passed away in 2020. Nothing makes you realize how very few photos you have of your loved ones than when you have to grapple with the thought of never being able to take a new photo or make a new memories. The memories my mind holds are the only memories I will every have of my mother and my father. I will never be able to get another hug or ask for another piece of advice or hear their voices again. 

My parents lost my older siblings at or shortly after birth, so I grew up an only child. With both of my parents gone, there are memories of me and of our family that no one living has memories of and others that only my memories are left. I never realized the burden of being the keeper of memory would be so weighty or that it would come to me so soon.

A few years ago, I got a memorial tattoo of my father. This year, I finally decided on a design for my mother. My mother loved all of the children in her life. Nieces and nephews, neighborhood children, kids that belonged to friends and other family members. There was always room for another plate at our table or a place for someone to sleep in our house if they needed it. If a child needed comfort for anything, she was there.

In many of the pictures I have of her and in so many memories, my mother was rocking a baby or small child to sleep or holding their hand as they learned to walk or helping them put together a new toy to play with. This picture (left) is a perfect example.

So that is what I decided to send to my tattoo artist as inspiration for my new tattoo. I also found a drawing by Soosh of a mother and child in a very similar pose that I sent along as well. I love the line drawing and water color style of it, and it would mesh very well with the memorial tattoo I had of my dad already.

I think it turned our perfectly. The only thing I had my artist update from the drawing she showed me was the color of Mama's hair. She had it more red and less blonde. If you knew my mother, you probably remember that she absolutely did have reddish blonde hair. She, however, would correct anyone in a flat second who tried to say she did. For most of my life she even went regularly to the salon to have blonde and gray "frosting" streaks put in her hair to make it more blonde and less red. I never understood why. I always thought her hair was very pretty all on its own. That said, I laughed and told my artist that Mama would haunt me if I had a tattoo done of her and made her hair its natural color, so we went more blonde.

I love that my artist matched the color of the foot pajamas I am wearing in this tattoo to the color of the shirt I am wearing in the memorial tattoo for my dad. She also matched my pigtail hairstyle too. Both memorial pieces are in the inside of my left arm, one upper and one lower arm. I wanted them both where I could see them anytime, and I wanted them on the side of my body closest to my heart. You can see my dad's memorial tattoo HERE. Hopefully my next tattoo will be one surrounding happier things and not another memorial piece.

Tarot Thursday - Slavic Folklore - Lenormand Deck

 

It's been a while since I have published a Tarot Thursday post. I discovered a deck that is new to me and quite different from my usual Tarot. I had never heard of Lenormand or Lenormand Decks. They originated in France in the 1700s. Each card has a coinciding number/suit card so that you can use a regular deck of playing cards to interpret. I would imagine this would have been handy during times when Witchcraft persecutions were common. 

I've been exploring a two card reading that I am beginning to really like. One card presents your specific question, concern, situation, etc., and the other card modifies it.  So, for example if the main card is the Letter card, communication is going to be key to your query. Say then, your second card is the Moon card. Then it could be interpreted that this communication is centered around emotions. Maybe you need to communication how you are feeling about a situation to someone important to you, or perhaps someone in your life needs to communicate how they are feeling. 

I find the idea of this deceptively simple two card spread to be very clear and direct and allows me to drill down to what's really important about my query.

I picked up four decks to just get a feel for them, but so far I have really been drawn to the Slavic Folklore deck. I've been having some health concerns, and I queried what I could do to resolve them or if they could be resolved.

My primary card was the Rat, and my modifying card was the Tower.

The Rat (also called The Little Helper)
Meaning: Worry breaks down the spirit and moments of weakness erase signs of hope during the darkest times. Do not let fear win. Even the smallest creatures have hidden strength.

Mice are unexpected helpers in Russian tales. They are small enough to fit into unlikely places and come with clever solutions to difficult problems.

The Tower

The imposing walls of a tower exude authority and strength. While they do protect, they can also isolate. The boundaries of the tower create a sense of solitude. 

The fortress is the beginning, middle, and end of many tales. The hero leaves the comfort of his own castle to face a villain fortified in their tower and then returns home to his own castle once again.

I interpreted these two cards together as meaning for my particular situation that I may feel alone and helpless right now, but if I am resourceful and perhaps step out of my comfort zone I can find a solution that will help me overcome my current problem.

With Fear for our Democracy, I Dissent - 2024 Election

I will preface this with, I’m not asking for a Trump supporter to try and convince me why they support him. I just need to say what I have been feeling. You can read or not read, agree or disagree.

We only have a week until the presidential election. A week to worry. A week to stress. A week to protect fragile hope. The 2016 results were shocking. I will always remember crying in our living room. I didn’t understand then and eight years later I still do not understand now how people could vote for a person who knowingly and happily denigrates women, disrespects military service people, mocks disabled citizens, and wants to actively rip away rights and protections for minorities and LGBTQIA+ Americans. It isn’t someone saying he did those things. We all heard his words and saw his actions. I know decent people who voted for that, and I still do not understand why.

In 2020, when he and his party lost, I dared to hope that it would be a turning point for the good. I thought perhaps those followers would wake up to the deceptions. And some did. But so many more haven’t even blinked. And now we are up for another election, and he is still using his followers and celebrity and sheer incomprehensibility to try and avoid punishment for the criminal activity he has been both charged with and convicted. When have we ever had a presidential candidate who has had dozens of convictions on their record and who has been investigated for treason against our country? If there was a hint of any one of these charges with a past candidate, nothing would have saved them in the eye of the public. The Republican party would have been the first to judge. Where is that judgement now?

All to say, I am scared about this election. I was horrified in 2016, but I had hope that good people were just misled. I thought if we all survived those four years, we (those people included) would come together to fix the mess we were in. In 2020, I was disillusioned at seeing the number of people still casting their votes for him with full knowledge of what he had done the previous four years. But, when he wasn’t elected, I was cautiously hopeful that there were more people who would stand against that sort of malignancy infecting our country. And now we are four years forward, still recovering, still fighting, still holding on to that tiny hope as we once again see our friends and family and neighbors continue to support a monster. I am more frightened this year than I was the prior two election years. We all know his wants and desires for this country. We know what he’s capable of, and we know that his party will not stand against him when it counts.

I’ve heard dozens of excuses for voting for him. That’s what they are … excuses. I’ll be honest, if someone tells me they are voting for that monster, I don’t care why anymore. It’s way past time for individual grievances and justifications. None of them come close to balancing the scale of what we know about what he believes, supports, and has actively allowed or participated in. There is no comparison.

I take my first statement back. If you, after everything, are still a Trump supporter, I would rather you just quietly unfriend/unfollow me on every outlet, lose my e-mail or phone number. No leaving announcement needed. If you support him as a candidate to lead our country and make decisions about our future, then I have to think you also harbor hate and disrespect in your hearts for women and girls, the LGBTQIA+ community, disabled individuals, military men and women, people of color, immigrants, and anyone else who does not fit into your tiny world view of perfection.

And before someone says I shouldn’t let politics come between me and the people I love. It’s not. This isn’t politics. This isn’t a discussion about tax rates or military spending or how state budgets are used or which party anyone belongs to. It’s about the most basic rights and common decency. It’s about being human and wanting equality in all areas of life for everyone whether we agree/approve of them or not. Will I ever understand your choice to continue to support Trump or anyone like him? No. Do I believe in the deepest part of my heart that you deserve the right to medical care when you are sick, the right to love and marry whichever adult you want, the right to be paid for your worth as an employee, to be treated equally regardless of your race or gender or sexual orientation, to have control over your own body and freedom? Yes. Without question. I do not have to agree with you, like you, or even know you to believe you deserve those things. My greatest wish is for you to want the same.