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,


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,


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,


The Weatherman

The Moon

I woke this morning at dawn to a strange clattering sound, and lay still for a moment wondering whatever it could be. I looked to see if Jay was awake so I could ask him, but on the pillow next to mine was a shaggy black and white head with a pointed nose and a glimpse of long canine teeth tips – Leon of course, who will creep into bed beside me if Jay is absent.

Fully awake now, it came to me that what I was hearing was rain – blessed rain to revive the poor dried up grass and the thirsty trees. I sent silent thanks to the old gods of the Earth and Sky. But what of Jay? Where could he be? Then I remembered that he’d been talking a lot on his mobile thing yesterday – something about getting himself ready and no guarantees – and I realised that he must have spent the dark hours invoking Ambisagrus, God of Wind, Rain and Hail.

Jay’s services as a weatherman are sometimes requested by those few who know of his talents, although he says he will never advertise, preferring a quiet life with yours truly and any animals that might be around. Well, it looks as though the invocation was successful, in spite of last night’s cloudy sky and no sight of the Moon.

Jay reappeared while I was having a delicious breakfast of raspberries, wild honey and goat’s milk yogurt, soaked, shivering and drained of life force only to retire to bed for the day without even a bite to eat. Leon will warm him up. He is such a hot dog and the best bedfellow ever on a cold night, although he kicks and twitches in his sleep almost as much as Jay.

So I spent this morning creating a new card for my very own deck, The Grand Ellessia Tarot of Aisselle Gabegie. The Moon may not have been visible last night, but I decided to put it in anyway as, after all, it was still there, as was the Sun, albeit on the other side of darkness. I do hope you like it, but if not, no matter as I’m very pleased with it.

Love and Rain to you all,

Till Soon,


Cool Goats

Hot again today. It seems to be normal and expected now – Hermaphroditey knows what will become of us when the deluge arrives, as it surely must.

But to get back to the hot goats. Jay had returned from the village with the fruit – two very ripe mangoes and some black grapes. I’d already picked a few blackberries and prepared myself for my mission of mercy. As an afterthought I attached a small bunch of grapes to my hair like the lady on the card (at least I think she’s wearing grapes, although they could be purple flowers, but no matter).

I hadn’t seen Heth for two days, so went to look for him. I found him in the garden at the back of the house, lying under an apple tree on a broken sun lounger in a pair of white Speedos. I couldn’t help noticing that he is almost as hairy as the Devil on the card – in fact the resemblance was even more striking than I expected, as the farmer’s tan (face, neck and forearms) not being present on those parts usually covered, was unable to protect the rest of his exposed skin, which had turned a painful shade of red.

‘What the Hell…?’ he muttered as I closed the gate behind me, taking care not to tip the fruit out of the bowl. I almost laughed at his expression when I told him I’d come to feed him fruit.
‘Fruit?’ he said, ‘What fruit?’ I held the bowl out so he could take what he fancied but he was still staring at my left nipple and didn’t seem to notice.

‘Listen, Heth,’ I said. ‘The lady on the card may have got down on her knees but that’s where I draw the line. I’m ethical now. We’re both keeping cool as best we can but those poor goats are suffering. Let me take the scissors to them or I’ll remove the spotty apron!’ (Jay had brought this back from the village with the fruit and insisted I wear it. He said he had to draw the line somewhere.)

A funny sort of look came into his eyes then, but my will was stronger and in a minute or so he looked away. ‘OK’, he said. ‘You’re a good goat lass and raspberry picker and I wouldn’t want to lose you. Two conditions though. Mind you just use the scissors, and don’t skin the beasts as they need a bit o’ protection from the sun and God knows it might turn cold agin the morrow.’ He was quiet for bit them and I waited. The silence went on so long that I began to wonder if I’d have to take off the spotty apron after all. At last he spoke.

‘I gave up with the shearing when the old girl died. She used to do all the spinning like, and weaving and knitting too. We only kept the few of em cos she liked to be busy and make warm kit for the winter. We niver sold the wool, see, she wouldn’t of liked that. So if you wants to cool the beasts you’ll ave to take up the spinning and knitting too. Annie’s old wheel’s in the barn but it needs a drop of oil I reckons.’

I thanked him and reversed out of the garden (the apron is a bit deficient in the rear area).

Jay and I set to work as soon as I got back, Jay with the scissors while I fed the creatures pieces of fruit to keep them calm. All MuMu’s lovely plaits have gone now, but she and the others seemed much happier and dashed away to the field as soon as the job was done. They’ll never know how the tarot helped to cool them down.

As for moi, I took off the spotty apron and got back into my blue gingham with much relief that things had gone so well. Then I made a feline for the barn.



Hot Goats

Jolanda Reading for the Goats

The hot weather continues here. We have had no rain for about a month – maybe even longer. The poor goats are cooking in their heavy coats, but Heth (the farmer), seems reluctant to let Jay shear them. The poor creatures cannot go on like this. Afflicted with a terrible lethargy they lie in the little wood all day and barely nibble at the dried up grass in the field. I shall retire to the van and do a tarot reading and ask advice as to the best way forward.

Jolande Reading for the Goats

Seven of Wands: A little woman stands with a club and a firebrand within a semi-circle of seven funny trees (unless they’re asparagus spears). She seems to be protecting a lion and a tiger from what might possibly be a bear, but it’s hard to be sure. This tells me that I have to be courageous in order to protect the poor goats from the heat, although the flaming torch seems to be adding to it rather than helping. But anyway, protect the goats I must, even if it means wearing a spotted apron and little else.

The Devil: Dear me, he looks just like Heth the farmer except for the cloven hooves and the red skin. And there are two of the goats, cool at last without their shaggy coats. The answer to the problem is now clear. It looks as though I’m going to have to strip off and feed the old boy with a variety of fruit. It had better not be raspberries as we’ve all picked and eaten enough of those this last week or so – I shall have to send Jay out for something a little more exotic, more fitting to the atmospheric volcano in the background. There is an old pear tree on the farm, but I think the fruit is still a little hard. No matter. As for the chain or whatever around the ankle, I think we can dispense with that. More later. Wish me luck.

Till when,

Love Aisselle

Ace of Certificates

It seems so long ago that I was awarded the prestigious Order of the Tinfoil Hat that I’d almost forgotten all about it. Yet those were testing times, and in a way that milestone was the beginning of a new life for me, and Jay too.

You can read all about my trials and tribs in earlier posts, so I won’t go into too much detail here. It will be enough to say that I am now very ethical and never (well, only in very special cases) take payment in other than cash and material items.

So to celebrate and create a permanent reminder of the day the beautiful certificate was placed in my trembling fingers I have commemorated the event with another card for The Grand Ellessia Tarot of Aisselle Gabegie. I hope you like it as much as I do.

I’ve been very busy on the farm, mostly picking raspberries and trying not to eat too many. I was reminded of dear Baphomet who loved the wild ones that used to grow at the edge of the orchard at our old place – how I miss him and all the other creatures. Perhaps one day we will return, possibly when George and Minet’s spawn have grown and flown. George and Minet will be quite old then, although I will still be 37 (or is it 39?). No matter, I will be forever young.

Love and Blessings to you all,


Two of Tinfoil Hats

This is one of the cards I promised to reveal to you, my loyal followers, in the my previous post. It was made at a time when Jay and myself were moving, always moving, along roads wide and narrow, straight and bendy, and Hermaphroditey had deserted me. But now I am settled like the creamy skin on top of a bowl of goat’s milk yogurt I can look upon it and remember that time without too much distress.

I have a large collection of tin foil hats. The aether is filled with a cacophony of different sounds, not only the everyday noise of traffic, trains, people and other busyness heard in towns and cities, and mooing cows and combine harvesters in the countryside – all the ones that ordinary people hear – but the voices of discarnate spirits trying to impart information to genuine psychics like myself who are trying to access information from the other side of the veil in order to give the best possible advice to their clients. A talented and receptive medium can find sometimes that it’s difficult to hear the messages intended for them alone. This is where the tinfoil hats come in handy. They work like radio receivers, tuning in to the channel that the psychic person needs to hear. This is why I have a large collection, as I find that different shapes tune me into different channels or stations.

The card shows me, Aisselle A.T. Gabegie, eyes closed and a tin foil hat in each hand. A particularly difficult problem has provoked a deluge of gabble from the other side and I recklessly imagine that wearing two tin foil hats at once might help, but all it does is to filter the jumble to two disparate spirits, each with an opposing opinion, who begin to shout and yell at each other inside my head. Of course I take the hats off and the noises stop, and there I sit, keeping the hats well away from my head and each other until they become fed up and shut up. Later I try a completely different tin foil hat with complete success, but that’s another card.

It is hot again today and the poor goats are cooking in their long coats. I must ask Jay to speak to Hethermoor, our farmer friend (Heth for short), to see if he would like us to shear their coats. Perhaps we can use the wool in some way – I seem to remember someone mentioning a spinning wheel, now who was it…?

Till soon,