GA01Today I have Something Wonderful to impart – Hermaphroditey has returned. Early, early this morning I heard a knocking on the little door of the van and rose to find – no, Dear Reader, not Hermaphroditey (She came later, and anyway has no need to knock, as doors present no obstacles to Goddesses or Spirit Guides) – but the lovely postman bearing about his person the very first printing of my Grand Ellessia Tarot!

I decided there and then to perform a reading for myself, Jay, Leon and Pie concerning our future, and to abide by the words of the cards, which I felt sure would be profound and full of wisdom.

I opened the parcel with trembling fingers, fearful of finding printing flaws after my many years of work, but all was well. I was so relieved that I had to sit down and ask dear Jay to make me a pot of chamomile tea before I returned to those precious images for a long, slow perusal.

Later, relaxed and clear-headed after a short meditation, I sat at the small folding table by the little stove with the cards. I had spread the blue cloth and shuffled well, concentrating on my question. Now I was ready to lay the cards that would determine our future. As I drew the first three cards a familiar soft humming – like one of those strange gravity-defying toys that spin on a string held between two people – grew slowly louder until it seemed to fill the air all around me. I looked up from my as-yet unrevealed cards to see dear Hermaphroditey revolving slowly in the air just above the bed.

I breathed out a sigh of relief with a silent promise never to take my personal Spirit Guide for granted again, but if She heard or understood She made no sign, so I turned the first card.

The Page of Teapots: A message is on its way, possibly through water in a sealed and waterproof teapot. The water signifies that deep emotions will be stirred and the young person riding the teapot suggests that the message will be brought by a child or perhaps be about one.

The next card I turned was the Eight of Teapots. Yours Truly is getting on a bus. I am carrying a small suitcase. I felt suddenly unwell – this would not do – I cannot leave alone – our small family must stay together. Happily though, at this point Hermaphrodity silently informed me that the symbolism need not be taken quite so literally. Yes, I would leave, but there was no need to go alone.

I turned the last of the three cards. It was the Six of Tinfoil Hats. This is the card I created as a bittersweet memory of leaving the old place, but it was upside-down! This could mean only one thing – I, we, must return.

Now all I have to do is wait patiently for the message in a teapot (or not in a teapot, as the case may be). Which reminds me of Tea and Heth. I have seen her almost every day in passing, but she still seems to be avoiding me. I believe she must have moved in with Heth and is afraid to tell me directly, but nothing matters now we will be leaving except the welfare of the goats, and I know they will be well looked after if Tea is here.

I drew one more card from my Grand Ellessia Tarot, silently asking what the outcome will be.

Here it is – The Happy Goat – and it answers my question perfectly. 

All that remains is a prayer for patience…

Till When,



Four of Goats

Well, Dear Reader, I never did manage to do that reading for Tea. Our meeting and her seemingly hysterical laughter had unsettled me to such an extent that my mind felt unable to find a way to contact Spirit or Hermaphroditey, or even to work out what the cards themselves were trying to tell me, so after another cup of chamomile tea I turned to Jay for advice.

Jay gazed at me wisely for some moments. ‘You know, Aisselle,’ he said, ‘You can be a little Four of Goats at times.’

Four of Goats? What could he mean? As if he had read my thoughts he replied, ‘Well, let’s say Four of Discs then, as you haven’t created the Four of Goats yet. You know, Pixie’s little man holding on to his four pentacles.’

I have to say that I still didn’t understand. I could see the little man in my mind’s eye, hugging one disc with one under each foot and another on his head, but how could keeping four pentacles close have anything to do with Tea’s crazy laughter?

Jay looked at me lovingly. ‘Dear Aisselle, ‘ he said. ‘Your unease comes from your fear of losing what we have here. All that wandering in the van after George and Joel or Georgina and Minet came to live at the old place and seemed about to sprog, then finding this place and settling in only to have Tea leave her hubby and move into the caravan park down the road. That might have been OK, but she’s here more and more these days and what for? Supposedly to spin and knit, but she really hasn’t done a lot of that and from what I’ve seen it looks as though she may move into the farmhouse with Heth. I don’t believe they spend all their time drinking tea.

I let out a little cry. As usual Jay had seen everything that I had been trying to ignore. I knew that if Tea moved in with Heth everything would change. We might even have to go on the road again, for much as Tea had seemed to admire me after I’d helped her with that first tarot reading, I feel there is something strangely unstable and unpredictable in her that might have unforeseen consequences. I had already left one home and many beloved creatures, leaving another seemed too cruel.

In my current state I was incapable of reading the cards for advice, so what was I to do?

Jay came to my rescue. ‘Let’s just wait and see what happens,’ he said. ‘Time has a way of making things clearer, and in the meantime you can create the Four of Goats’.

And that, Dear Reader, is what I did. I do hope you like it. Please think of me holding on to my goats (or rather Heth’s goats).

Love, till soon,



Page of Goats

I keep thinking of my imaginal father. Bringing him to my mind’s eye has banished the nightmares and infused me with a deep contentment. Contemplating this small miracle, a little voice suggested that I need not stop there – the world of the imaginal is mine for the imagining. But where to begin? Childhood seemed the logical place, although Jay tells me that I am not consistently endowed with logic, but I made some chamomile and hawthorn tea (hawthorn is so good for the heart) and sat awhile on the van step yesterday, the warm Sun enveloping me like a huge and gentle hug.

An image came. A funny little auburn person of about five summers (although he might have been older), in short home-cut hair, cut off trousers, shirt (hanging out) and waistcoat is walking with a goat through the tall herbs and grasses of the countryside. Who can it be? Then, a little shock of recognition! It is me, Aisselle, but I look like a boy! Slowly the memories filter back. Was I in Kansas or Wales? It did look more like Wales (which has a greenness like no other), and I was small for my age, but somehow the location eluded me. However I do know that I was playing truant from school and had collected my favourite goat so we could spend the day together, away from the other children, who were not always kind to a small girl who looked like a boy. I was taking a message from Grannie (something about goat’s milk if I remember correctly) to a neighbour, then the day would be mine to do as I pleased. This usually involved gathering up flowers and herbs and little sticks and stones that were oddly shaped, and making spells to keep my classmates at a distance. Sometimes they worked and all was peaceful for a while, then it would start again and I’d have to take the day off to make some more.

Why wouldn’t Henna let me be the girly girl I wanted to be? Hermaphroditey knows, (although she’s never told me). Perhaps Henna thought I’d be safer as a boy, or perhaps she felt that three females in the same household was one too many, which doesn’t seem quite right, three being a specially magical number.


Anyway, I decided now to turn the boy into the little girl I had been inside, all those years ago. Little by little the boy disappeared and there she was with her goat! Or rather there I was with my goat. Bliss! I gazed at her for a long time so as not to lose her, then I created another card for my Grand Ellessia Tarot. And here she is, the Page of Goats. She looks so happy and content. I hope you like her as much as I love her.


Love and light to you all,


An Answer via the Aether…

A little soul in need inspired this, the latest creation for my Grand Ellessia Tarot, the Queen of Tinfoil Hats. But it was only when she was finished that I remembered that I’ve already made one of those… No matter, we will have two.

Dear little Pinkie contacted me via the Readings page to ask for my help. I will not repeat her words here or mine in answer – or her words in answer to my answer – as you can easily go and read them for yourselves. Suffice to say that the witchy being depicted on the card is my mother, Henna, wearing her special pointy tinfoil hat and all her gear.

Although I saw her before we left the old place six years ago and had a picture in my mind of the crone she was then, somehow I’ve made her rather lovely, and haven’t the heart to spoil her by adding wrinkles and facial collapse. I have an idea that she herself had something to do with the way she’s turned out, as her intellect and will are stern and strong and quite capable of influencing me at a distance in spite of all the jumping on beds (and in and out of them) she has indulged in all her life. So here she will remain, immortalised on this card, a Queen of Tinfoil Hats in her prime contacting Spirit via the aether (the swirly lines in the sky), and with the help of the fairies’ flying mushroom and her favourite goat.

Which brings me back to the King and Queen of Goats in a recent post. Perhaps you remember that I needed to contact Henna to ask her a VIQ (Very Important Question). Of course I had no idea where she was or is, so I sent an email through the aether to my halfly brother (or possibly sister, depending on what time of year it is), and Joel (he is Joel for the current six months), replied that he had no idea of her whereabouts either, as she is still in hiding from the Grand Ovum and Merlin who are seeking the Druid’s Book, but that he would forward my message.

Imagine my trepidation when I found an email from Henna in my inbox this morning. Dear Reader, I was quivering all over like a goat’s milk junket! This is what she wrote.

Aisselle, you are a very big silly. If you’d paid attention at school instead of playing truant with the goats you’d have been able to google and do a few sums and wouldn’t need to send me frantic messages about the identity of your sperm donor. You could have typed ‘Gerald New Forest’ into google instead of bothering me with ‘Gerald from the forest that was new’ and Wiki would have appeared to make everything clear. I may not know who your father is but he’s certainly not old Gerald who died in 1964. I know you like to pretend you’re younger than you really are but that’s still pushing it a bit as it was around the middle to late 70s that you appeared unexpectedly in Kansas. Even Grannie hadn’t noticed but then she did have things of her own going on at the time.

Enough of this nonsense though, I have spells to perform. Henna

Well, it seems nothing changes. To tell the truth, I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. If Gerald had been my father it would have explained my passion for goats, which seems too strong to have been inherited from only one parent. But I must rest again now, as my sleep was slight last night, then move on and finish my tarot – it has been long in the making. What next I wonder?

Till soon,


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.

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,


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,


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 Spinning Yarn…

8 of Goats

On Sunday Tea arrived in answer to my call for help in the last post. We went straight to the barn to look at the old spinning wheel, but she shook her head and said it would be easier if we used hers, whereupon she flew back to her little car and took it from the boot. It seems she is now living on a caravan site not far from here, which information filled me with foreboding, as Hermaphroditey is quite clear regarding extraneous and possibly negative energy disturbing our precious connection, and has threatened to leave if the three (Herself, Myself, and Jay) become four in any way (she doesn’t include the animals as she says their energy is helpful, if not strengthening).

We took the spinning wheel to the farmhouse as it was too hot to work outside, and Tea showed me how to thread the wheel, manage the treadle and hold the strands while twisting. I have to say that it was not easy, even to one with my varied talents, and I became rather cross, especially as Tea seems to think I will be her apprentice and says it will take the full seven years of traditional apprenticeship before I become skilled enough to manage on my own.

So I asked her to show me once again and while she was busy I slipped away and created a new card for The Grand Ellessia Tarot from a photo Jay took of my first attempt at spinning. You can see it below.


As for Tea, when I went back to see how she was getting on I found her chatting to Heth over a gin and tonic, a lovely ball of spun mohair on the table beside her. I left them to it and returned to Jay and Leon. I do hope she doesn’t get on too well with Heth, Goddess knows where that could lead…

Till Soon,

Love and light,  Aisselle


6 of Tinfoil Hats

A recent post on this, my very own blog, made me recall the day Jay and I and little Leon and Nu left the old place and took to the road. The caravan is small, and we had to leave almost everything behind and trust that George and Minet would take care of the old place and the creatures. It was a happy day, but I was apprehensive too, as you can see from the card, although when painting it I forgot that Leon was only a puppy at the time and have drawn him larger than life looking out of the little window at the back (he was standing on the bed). Nu, the lovely nanny who came along to give us milk, is sitting up front next to Jay, and Hermaphroditey was hovering in the aether just above the stove. Leon still seems to stay well away from her just as he did then.

As for the tinfoil hats, I tied them by string to hooks on the back and they’re flying behind us as we rattle along (it was a windy day). As soon as the old place was out of sight I went to sit up front with Jay and Nu but unfortunately by the time we came to a stop there was not a sign of them, only six lengths of dusty string trailing along the ground. Luckily I’d remembered to bring a roll of aluminium foil so I set to work and made some more.

The rain seems to have deserted us again, in spite of Jay’s invocation, but the grass is peeping green once more and the goats nibble merrily in the field.

I have been struggling to master the old spinning wheel, I have removed the dust and spider webs, given it oil and tried to work out its Old Way of working but have now retired hot and bothered with strands of mohair on my lovely blue gingham and fluff in my hair and nostrils. I think the only way forward may be though Spirit. I do not have a contact number for Tea, but she offered once to spin for us, so I will call on Hermaphroditey to work her magic and prompt Tea to read this post.

Tea, dear, if you’re reading this this please come and teach me to spin (although you cannot live here for reasons mentioned in an earlier post on Readings).


Till when,