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.



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,


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

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,


Blood Moon

Last night I had a terrible nightmare. I was lost in a forest which seemed to have been burned in a fire. But the ground was wet and slippery and when I tried to run to get out of it all, I just skidded and fell, over and over again. It was pitch dark, but bright – things – flew past me every now and again. confusing me even more. And there was a horrible cackling voice, very monotonous, saying “you failed, you failed, you failed.” What was this? Had I lost my powers? Had Hermaphroditey abandoned me?  I could see Milky in the distance, but she was sleeping, and however loudly I tried to shout, no sound came out, and she didn’t hear me.

Thankfully, in the end I felt an earthquake in the forest and realised it was Jay, who was so worried by my moaning that he decided he had to wake me, and was holding my shoulder quite hard – it still hurts rather – and shaking me.

I have hardly ever been so happy to see his worried face before me. When he was sure I was fully awake, he made me a cup of chamomile tea, and I told him all about it. Then I realised the truth – on the night of the Blood Moon, Hermaphroditey had sent me the dream to show me a card I would never have willingly considered – the Nine of Tinfoil Hats. I find the – less positive cards so very difficult, but she showed me the way – and here it is. Don’t be too upset by it, dear friends – every card has a positive side, though just now I am not entirely sure what it is, here.

And so back to bed. I am very tired.



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,


Three of Tinfoil Hats


Well, last time it was the two, today the three has materialized. Do you remember the Ace of Tinfoil Hats – floating peacefully on a fluffy white cloud in a blue blue sky and representing pure distilled access to the world of spirits? Then there were two which, logically, should have been better than one, but the pair of them channelled an almost unintelligible dialogue of conflict between two opposing spirits. Not helpful, even to one like myself with almost supernatural abilities.

Now we must deal with The Three of Tinfoil Hats, and to all you aspiring tarot readers and mediums out there I say NO!!!! Don’t do it! Three tinfoil hats worn together can never be better than one pure hat, made with love and carefully maintained, (use your imagination, or if deficient in this area handle carefully and blow any dust off before using rather than getting the Hoover out. Never immerse in liquid of any kind).

This card depicts a red heart, barely recognizable as such. Attached to it like leeches are three tinfoil hats which, having drained most of the life from the poor thing by connecting the medium or tarot reader to malicious spirits, have damaged it almost beyond repair. But… some life remains and the thing to do to avoid further heart damage is to take the offending tinfoil hats from the head, crumple them up (maybe jump on them too), and put them in the recycle bin (aluminium is an expensive metal so it’s best not to waste it). Then get out your roll of foil and make another one or two as replacements, but: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED – never again wear three tinfoil hats together. Oh, and take better care of your heart the next time.

Tarot readings are coming in, but I’m very busy with the goats and raspberries at the moment, so please be patient and I will give my carefully considered replies to your requests when I have time.



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,