Merry Meet, Dear Readers and Devoted Followers. It has been so long since I last posted here and I’ve missed you all. But now I must tell you what has come to pass.
The feelings I described in the previous post, all those months ago, stayed with me and built to a horrid dark nimbus which laid me so low that my beloved Hermaphroditey left and could not be found. My powers waned even as the moon goddess slims to a sliver every month before growing fat and full again. I became so thin and translucent that Jay feared for my life, and fed me nettle cakes, elderflower wine, milk and cheese from the goats, and wild honey, but nothing helped. I was disappearing, and had not the strength to see my clients or attend to the needs of my followers here.
Then, one dark day, when the sun seemed to have deserted us too, Jay carried me outside to see my beloved goats, possibly to say goodbye to them and the other animals for the last time. As he placed me tenderly on a goat’s wool blanket in the orchard and covered me, Baphomet left the little herd and skipped across the cold grass to stand beside us. I kissed his gracious nose and reached up to scratch the small spot at the end of his back, just above his tail. This is a bit risky as it’s essential not to do it for too long or he becomes crazy with lust. But before I could so much as tickle him, Baphomet leaned down, put his whiskers to my ear and spoke, and his words made perfect sense.
‘Listen kid’, he said, and his voice was deep and wise. ‘Ya gotta get outta this place and hit the road. Hermy’s gone cause the pair in there…’ and here he jerked his noble head in the direction of the cottage, ‘…is sprogging. I dessay Pan reckons which one – or maybe both, but none of us goats has a clue – we just knows there’s a kid on the way and Hermy doesn’t like it.’
As Baphomet spoke it came to me like a warm golden shower falling all over and around me that he was right, before I realized that it was just one of the other goats who had tiptoed up behind us. I thanked the lovely creature (Baphomet) for this enlightenment, and with new strength instructed Jay to take me indoors and put me to bed, where I lay and pondered long before falling asleep.
I woke the following morning with a happier heart, and spent the day reading cards in the basement – the first time I’d been able to do so for some time. And before the sun reached its zither the answer came and parked itself in the lane by the gate across the orchard.
Jay had been with me down there (in the basement), but had just gone up to make some dandelion tea when he saw it. He tells me that he ran out of the kitchen door, across the garden and the orchard and came back an hour later with a smile lighting his whole face. He brought me upstairs and we drank the tea together, then, taking my hand, he led me outside.
Through the orchard we made our way, the wet grass squeaking our shoes, and my heart sank. Under the oldest and tallest apple tree stood a chunky piebald horse. Not more animals to care for – Oh Jay, what have you done?
But I need not have feared. In the lane stood our salvation – a gypsy caravan! That just shows you the power of the Buckland Romani Tarot, for it was that I had been using all morning. Jay told me that the horse was a Vanner, and strong enough to pull us and a few precious belongings away from our troubles and out into the country lanes. He’d bought it and the horse from an old gypsy who’d named his price (way too high, said Jay), quick as a one card reading and dropped it in the time it takes to do a Celtic Cross (properly). Jay said that we could go anywhere our hearts desired, reading tarot along the way, following the Fayres and living on nettles and wild herbs. We could even take one of the nanny goats for milk. George and Minet could stay in the cottage and look after the animals, and we could come back sometimes to visit them (the animals).
So here I am, Dear Readers and Devoted Followers, well and happy, tapping away in the Café Net, as my old computer would not have worked in the van. I have been out of touch for so long, and would be still, had I not fancied a cup of coffee (naughty, I know) and popped in. Sadly there was no coffee to be found (or any net), just lots of screens and keyboards, so it seemed as if Hermaphroditey had led me here on purpose and must be heeded. For she had returned, appearing as a fluffy pinky-purple ball almost as soon as we’d left the lane, and now resides in the van, just below the ceiling, where she bobs merrily as we go along.
The last few Fayres of summer went well for us, and although autumn was wet and windy, and winter so far the same, but cold too, Jay and I are cosy in our little van, warmed by the wood stove. Pie, our lovely Vanner, loves to have his back scratched just like Baphomet, and it seems to have the same effect on him, so I have to be careful as he’s a powerful creature.
George and Minet told us before we left that their kindling would arrive in June. We wished them well, and left with gasps of relief. We have each other, Aisselle and Jay. We have our collie – dear precious Leon and the Goddess Hermaphroditey, with Pie to pull the van and Nu (who rides inside like a queen when we’re on the move) for milk. We are all we need.
I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post again, but do please leave your questions and requests and I’ll send the readings across the aether when I can find a connection.
In the meantime, look out for us on the road – our tarot readings are not too expensive but they are supernaturally accurate. Our stock of elderberry wine is only half immolated, and Jay bakes wondrous nettle cakes – his secret ingredient makes them truly magickal. We can raise a glass together.
Blessed Be Till When,