The King and Queen of Goats

My mind is more settled now. I spent an hour meditating on what Hermaphroditey had conveyed to me after the nightmare of my previous post. It’s not all about you, Aisselle, were the words she had spoken silently in my left ear. And somehow, while I was contemplating the meaning of this insight, the past came creeping slowly back in a little scene of childhood on a small screen in my mind’s eye.

Picture this: my witchy mother, Henna, telling me stories by the light of many candles arranged in a circle in our garden at Halloween. A multitude of moths flitter round our heads as we sit in the centre by a small fire with the cauldron bubbling away merrily, the delicious Otherworldly smell of hot chocolate swirling under our noses, and she is speaking of long ago ceremonies in a forest that was new, even though the trees were very tall, and of her friends who could work magic. She said their leader was a man called Gerald, who was a bit of an old goat (I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I didn’t ask), and how they would all dance about and drink special wine and have fun.

I think that was when I had my very first vision, for suddenly, like deja vu all over again, I saw him anew, sitting on the throne with grapes growing all around it and laughing like a goat that has just done something very wicked that nobody else knows about yet. He wasn’t in the forest that was new this time though, but on top of a hill with clouds all around, a pentacle propped up beside him. I waited for him to do something, but he just kept laughing.

The scene fades to be replaced by another. Seven goats surround a barefoot lady dressed in blue gingham. She seems to be examining the leg of one who has placed it across her knees. At first I thought it must be me, but then the truth rushed in like a billy goat to a field of nannies. Her younger self turned to me and said, Look carefully, Aisselle, it is I, your mother, Henna! You are of me, and I am of the Earth. So I looked closely at her face and it was indeed her!

I waited, but she faded and no more visions came. So I decided to record the fruits of my meditation in two new cards for my Grand Ellessia Tarot, the King and Queen of Goats.

I finished the cards and sat looking at them. It was almost as if I’d left something out, or that the cards were trying to tell me something. And as I type this a terrible thought steals into my head. If Gerald and Henna were the King and Queen of Goats…

Perhaps Hermaphroditey was wrong – perhaps it is all about me.

I have to find Henna…

More later (hopefully), wish me luck.

Blessings, Aisselle.


The last nightmare

I do hope that is not too optimistic. But last night I had another terrible dream. I was in a dark forest and I came across a puddle of water in which I saw Hermaphroditey – dead. She lay there in all her bright purpleness and I was powerless. I gazed upon her and wept. I awoke shivering, and made myself a cup of chamomile tea – Jay slept on, I must not have screamed or cried out this time, which is good as I have disturbed so many of his nights. And I decided to put this dream into the card that has always frightened me most when I have been reading – the Ten of Tinfoil hats. I felt it would be right. The worst thing I could have imagined, to lose Hermaphroditey, as the worst card – for me.

I stood at the window looking at the moon, and suddenly I felt a great calm descend. I do find chamomile so helpful. But also I suddenly felt that nothing worse could happen to me now. It was just a dream, but I have lived through it. Fortified in my emotions, I returned to bed.
To dream again – but this time was very different. I felt the warmth of Hermaphroditey, who spoke to me at last – the first time in so many nights. And she said “Finally, you get it. It isn’t all about you.”


I was shocked, but then I understood. I had always expected her to be there whenever I needed her, as till latterly she had been – but she has priorities of her own. I felt as though I had learned a valuable lesson, one which I must always remember.
And in the morning, I created two new cards – the painful Ten I had conceived in the night, but also a reminder of my achievement, the Six of Certificates. Perhaps I am seeing too much, but I felt as if I had been given a reward. In any event, I feel that surviving that nightmare of loss was in itself a gift.




And now to pick blackberries. There are so many this year, and the birds tell me it will be a hard winter. I hope all of you who read my blog will do the same.


Blessings, Aisselle




The Boy on the Hill…

Page of Tinfoil Hats

My Grand Ellessia Tarot is coming along beautifully, and I’m always amazed at how inspiration arrives in the most unexpected ways. I was sitting on the little hill behind the caravan yesterday looking through dear Pixie’s tarot. From time to time I’d gaze at the sky, thinking how fascinating are the strange and funny shapes the clouds form themselves into – almost as if they’re trying to tell us something. I’m not referring to weather forecasts but of more momentous things. Henna, my witchy mother, used to gaze skywards often. She said cloud-watching was no different from any other form of divination – just like reading tea leaves, except that you had to look up rather than down.

But I digress. I’d been watching the clouds rushing across the sky but when I looked towards the field and the goats everything had changed. The familiar scene was exactly like Pixie’s Page of Swords card, except that instead of the young man grasping his weapon in both hands and pointing it skwards, there, in the same spot as the page on the card, stood a little boy. His eyes were large and blue like the sky, gazing upwards at something far away that I could not see. I could tell by his face he was a sensitive child, standing there in his tinfoil hat and his lovely S-belt holding a long blue and silver box. Who could he be? He was very young to be out on his own with no one in charge of him.

The answer came to me like a flash of sunlight on a milk bottle top. The clue to his identity was right in front of my eyes, printed on the box! AL…….. I couldn’t read the rest of the letters though, for the next second he had disappeared and the goats were grazing peacefully in the field, just as if he had never been there at all. But I knew I had been gifted with a rare glimpse into the past, and that the little lad would grow up to continue his search for knowledge of those who inhabit the aether and the astral planes, and delve deeply into the old and dangerous ways of magic. I couldn’t help wishing that he could have stayed on Pam’s hill in his little red boots and his tinfoil hat, but although I am gifted with spiritual insight, the best I can do is to capture his likeness for my Grand Ellessia Tarot. I do hope you like it.



Autumn Days…

The colder nights and mornings seem to have had the effect of slowing everything down. Even Jay, who usually rises with the Sun to tend to the animals, lingers beneath the duvet until Leon wakes at the end of our bed and stands, front paws on his chest, wanting to go out. We move about like a pair of fishes swimming though cold yogurt, dressed in our warmest pullovers, until Jay lights the little stove. It’s good to know that Tea has finished spinning the yarn from the goats and is busy knitting us all new ones. She has taken far longer than expected to complete the spinning, but she does seem to spend much of her time here drinking tea with Heth.

The appearance of the Sun over the little hill warms things up quickly though, and we soon feel our old youthful selves again. Yesterday I stopped to listen to a robin singing joyfully in a beautiful hawthorn tree covered in bright red berries, brilliant against the blue blue sky. I hope for the sake of the wild ones that does not mean the coming winter will be hard.

We have so much to be thankful for, Jay and I. To celebrate, I created a new card for my Grand Ellessia Tarot. It will serve to remind me to worry less and make the most of these Autumn days together in this lovely place with all the animals, wild and domestic, around us.

Blessings to you all,


A Difficult Balance

I have been trying to work out how best to work on balancing everything within my power, as I learned during my retreat that I must. It is hard to know where to begin. I do not follow what they call “the news” – I have no wireless, nor do I buy papers, which is where I understand that people learn about all the injustices in the world. I am not sure I want to learn about these things, but how can I work on righting wrongs if I do not know what the wrongs are. It is a hard path to tread.

I appealed to spirit and to Hermaphroditey, but they are silent. I pulled cards, endlessly, but no combination suggested a solution. I think perhaps I am trying to do too much. To take on a task that really is outside my abilities. With Hermaphroditey behind me I have always felt I was capable of anything, but suddenly I doubt my own powers. This frightens me more than the bad dreams ever did.

I wonder about another retreat – but the weather is colder now, and I fear that in any case it might cause me even more alarm. To calm my nerves I made a pot of chamomile tea, and when he smelled it, Jay came to join me. He is so wise. I told him of my fears and he said that I must stop worrying so much. Worrying, he said, is bad for the soul. Instead of worrying about what you cannot control, shift your energy to what you can do, he said.

I thought long and hard about this and suddenly the balancing that comes with temperance came to me, and I created another card for my deck. I hope you like it. Meanwhile, I must try to find a new way to approach the lessons of my retreat. I feel I must be approaching it all in the wrong way. But where is the right way ?

Oh dear. This is so hard. Everything was coming so easily to me before. Maybe the lesson I must learn is that it was too easy.

Yours in light and confusion,


On the King and Queen of Certificates…

You see before you the King of Certificates, high on his firebird throne. As you know, the firebird is both a bringer of doom and a blessing, which is fitting, as (like all the court cards), this king can represent a real person, and indeed he does. It may seem strange when I tell you how he came to be on this card. To this person I owe my very existence as an ethical tarot reader. For this is Alex, whose advertisement I noticed on ebay when looking for goats.

He was offering tarot certificates in return for eight pounds and an essay on various aspects of the tarot, including history and all sorts of other things. I sent off my carefully crafted essay with the eight pounds and awaited my lovely certificate with the greatest anticipation, but to my horror and dismay an email arrived refusing to certify me on the grounds that I was not ethical! I was distraught and went into a spiral of distraction. Goodness knows where I’d have ended up if Alex had not replied to my email begging him to reconsider his verdict with yet another refusal and an email detailing all the ethics that my essay seemed to have contravened.

Dear Reader, I went into retreat, taking this terrible list with me. The following weeks were spent sleeping in the orchard with the many goats and other animals at the old place, meditating and living on apples and goat’s milk. It was cold at night so I’d been snuggled up to Baphomet for warmth and smelled rather strongly of billy goat. I needed a bath and a cup of nettle tea so I came at last to the conclusion that I must abandon my old ways to the pit of doom and become ethical.

Back at the house, clean and refreshed, I set to work and made seven tinfoil hats. Then I created The Order of the Tin Foil Hat Ethical Tarot Certificate, and awarded it to myself. I began this, my very own blog, to connect to my clients and followers, and from that day I have never looked back.

Thank you Alex, you are truly the King of Certificates.

And here am I, Aisselle AT Gabegie, in my very finest tin foil hat, the Queen of Certificates in all her glory. (My thrysus may be very slightly bent, but notice how much larger and greater than Alex I appear.)

Blessings be upon your ethical kingly head, Alex, (wherever you may be), and please feel free to contact me if you’d like to become a member of the Ethical Order of the Tin Foil Hat and I’ll see what I can do.

Written in love and peace,


Two Nights Equals Two Knights

Jay has at last returned from his mission to take Sid to the nannies to fulfill his stud-ious duties. He was too tired after his long trek and two nights away to tell me much about his adventures, but he brought me a present wrapped in brown paper that filled me with joy (and later tea!). How he came by it I know not, unless it was given him by the nanny farmer’s wife who, I believe, collects china hens, but I’ll have to wait to find out, as I left him and Leon unconscious to the world on our bed and went to check on the goats, images of my two tarot knights swirling in my head, for if Jay is now the Knight of Goats, my lovely present is surely the Knight of Teapots!

Jay will sleep for hours, methinks, so I spent the rest of the morning in the barn creating my latest card for The Grand Ellessia Tarot. I’ve placed him on water lily leaves as teapots cannot function without water – it is their element as surely as still waters run deep and tears come through the eyes from the heart. But of course, a nice cup of camomile tea from a lovely teapot can calm and ease all sorts of turbulent emotions.

Speaking of Tea, I couldn’t help seeing her and Heth having it through the window of the farmhouse kitchen on my way to the barn, a huge brown teapot on the table between them. I would have popped in to join them but I was eager to get on with the Knight of Teapots and Tea is rather keen on lemon and ginger, which I find a little too stimulating.

I will away now back to the van to see if Jay has woken yet. It is so good to have him back.

More soonish, till then Love and tea,


Creature Comforts

Knight of Goats

A beautiful warm bath has restored me to my fully spiritual self. I only desire what some people call creature comforts in times of extreme privation, but perhaps it’s not wise to become too used to such luxury. I returned to the caravan to find a note from Jay propped up on the little red teapot on the shelf by the stove – I had been so cold and wet and longing for warmth that I’d missed it earlier. I unfolded the sheet (torn from an old school book found in the barn) and read the words with some dismay.

Dearest Aisselle, I have been called away to escort Bert’s stud goat to a farm 22 miles from here. The poor boy dislikes any form of wheeled transport and refuses all attempts to get him into one, so has to be walked the whole way there and back. I’d have waited for you to come out of the orchard but it’s an urgent matter as the nannies are lined up waiting for him and we’re not sure how long it will be before they get fed up and disperse to the farm boundaries and have to be collected again.

It will take us a couple of days to get there by the fields and footpaths, but if we’re in time Sid’s job should be successfully completed overnight and we’ll be able to head back the following day (if he’s not too tired). I hope your time in the orchard was worth it.

Missing you, (although hopefully Sid and Leon should keep me warm at night in whatever barn we find to shelter in).

Love Jay

So it seems that Jay will have his own ‘retreat’ just as I return from mine – how strange is Life!
All alone, without even Leon to keep me company, I pictured Jay on his epic journey (but at least he has creature comforts, even if they are literal ones!) and created a new tarot card – the Knight of Goats. I’d have included Leon but he’s never still for long and is usually off rounding up rabbits and practising agility by dashing through and under gates and fences, so you’ll have to imagine him. Come back to me very soon dear Jay bird.








Till when,


A Damp Homecoming

Well, my dears, I have had an interesting time. Sadly, latterly the weather was not as I had hoped, and my lovely dress is wet, and so am I. Soon I shall ask Heth if I can prevail upon him to allow me a hot bath in the farmhouse. Our caravan is usually all we need, but when I am so very cold and wet, I would really like to relax in hot water.
My retreat was not what I expected. It was difficult, to say the least. I think perhaps the need for it emanated from the reading I did for Rottweiler about Great Britain. I am not entirely sure what is happening about this hoarding of food he asked about. Why these people don’t live from the hedgerows as one can is hard to comprehend. There is so much to be found – berries, leaves, mushrooms and the occasional rabbit.

But it seems that I must pay more attention to the injustices of the world as it is today. To try and lead my followers to see the things that need to be done so that we can all live happily together, so that everything can be set in balance, as I am sure it was designed to be by Spirit. When I received this wisdom, I think I felt the touch of Hermaphroditey upon my shoulder (which still hurts from when Jay wakened me, perhaps the bath will help with that too.)
So – damp and enlightened, I came back to the caravan to find that Jay does not appear to be here. Perhaps he has gone to find me a special treat. He is so kind that way. Perhaps the blackberries are ripe.

In any event, I shall quickly take my chilled self to the farmhouse to throw myself upon Heth’s good nature. Meanwhile – as I sat thinking about everything and everything else (this really is so very hard and I hope it will not prove too much for my powers) I did come up with the Justice card, which symbolises all I must try to do. I hope you like it.
And I hope that you are all warm and dry, as I am not. Till later.

Blessings, Aisselle


Last night another terrible dream. I have to discover what is causing them. It is very hard for Jay to be woken so often in the night by my writhing and shouting. I think I will not give details here – it is disturbing enough for me living through them and it seems unkind to expect you all, my dear friends, to live through them also.

But I have to take action. Hermaphroditey is silent just now – I think she must be waiting for me to do something  for my own self. But what? It is hard to think about this while I have my duties in the caravan, which is in any case very small, and I find it hard to empty my thoughts to let the spirit enter and advise me So today I decided – I shall go into retreat. The weather is clement, and it will be no hardship to take a blanket or two to the end of the orchard, and sleep among the rhubarb plants.

I imagine the wasps that flit around the fallen apples may present a small problem, but I am sure they will understand that I need to be alone. And as soon as this idea came to me, a new card followed on its heels. The Hermit. This shall be me, Aisselle T. Gabegie, for the next few days. A hermit in the orchard.

Blessings upon you, and think of me, dear ones. I need your help. I shall miss you, but what must be must be. Till whenever…