I may be coming down with witchy powers. Or a brain tumor.

All advice is free but probably not very good.

I come from a family of witches. As is typical, the line runs matriarchally. I think if you’re not part Native American, like we all like to pretend we are because some cousin in the 1600’s ran away and lived with some Indian tribe and somehow that got into our blood, you’re part of a group who holds hereditary powers.

This is the kind of witch I’d like to be. The kind with snow stuck in my eyeball.

The thing is, I’ve never really felt much like a witch – not the actual witchy kind, I mean. Yes, I love Halloween the most out of any holiday and I like the idea of spells and earth magic and moon power. I like spiders and I have cats and I enjoy cooking things in cauldrons, though I call mine a Crock-Pot, but I’ve never felt like I have special abilities that don’t show up in most people. It’s made me a little jealous over the years. My mom and sisters and my brother, hell even my pragmatic grandfather, they’ve all come into contact with ghosts. I tried and tried until I was in my early 20’s to see or feel or meet a ghost and I didn’t get so much as a shiver.
My whole maternal line plus my sisters are precogs.  I’m not. They sense things. I don’t. My mom and (I think) my youngest sister do blessing and cursing. I only curse with swear words and blessings are right out of the question mostly because I’m not a nice person.

Double, double, toil and trouble and sunny days and tangled green ribbons…dammit, that mess is going to take a long time to unravel.

But my mother just told me on a phone call the other night that I’m coming into my powers now that I’m elderly. She reminded me that I’ve always been able to find “good energy” which I don’t quite understand, but she says we all have different powers and that’s been mine. She knows I’m getting my charms because I called her based on one weird thing – I was puttering around the house on a Monday, getting ready for work, and I smelled my mom, as in it smelled like she was in the room. I called the next night to make sure she was ok. While we were talking, I realized it hadn’t been the first time this smelling trick had manifested. It had also happened the weekend prior to this call. I’d been outside in the shed and I’d smelled my mom so I walked into the yard, thinking maybe she was there. Gabe came to the back door and said, “Hey! Your mom’s here,” and there she was, in my house. That might indicate she needs to bathe more often, if I can smell her from that far away. It also might indicate that I’m going crazy. But I can’t rule out the possibility that I am inheriting the special little things the rest of the women in my family have always had. It’s like I have Extra SCENTSory Perception!
There are other family members who would argue with this whole idea – Gabe being one; he says he would know in his gut if I had powers of some sort which is kinda funny if you think about it – but according to my mom (and my sisters) (and my grandmother before she got ill and felt she was being plagued by the devil), we’re a family of witches. I might be one, too.

Is there a handbook for this stuff out there? I don’t have one in my library. I suppose I could go check Llewellyn’s site OR I could check WebMD and find out that I have a brain tumor and only weeks left to live.
Maybe I’ll be lucky and it will kill me on Halloween! That’s kind of a witchy hope to have, isn’t it?

At any rate, I wish you all Happy Halloween, All Soul’s Day, and Dia de los Muertos!

Mr. TokiO wishes you a festive holiday.
P.S. He wants you to know pumpkin brains are NOT delicious. Also, they stick to your fur and it is gross.

It’s LIKE Day of the Dead. Mostly, I just wanted to show off my cool decorations.

My cat is a zombie…from hell

WARNING: This post contains REALLY GROSS PICTURES of dead rodents. It’s gory and graphic and if you get at all queasy over mice, dead things, headless things, brains, eyeballs, or exposed teeth, please close this page immediately and go do something else that’s pleasant and charming. Also, if you don’t like cats, you should move along.

Have I mentioned our brain-eating zombie cat? Because we have one and I never know whom I’ve told.
His name is Toki and he is sometimes a doctor (he refuses to leave our sides when we’re sick or injured) and usually a lover (he has a very romantic accent when necessary) and is mostly adorable and sweet. Here are too many pictures of him so you can see how precious he is.

From cute baby bat to cone of shame, Toki is always (usually) covered in the hansums.

We got him and his sister (shut UP about that littermate crap already. They came out of the same mom, they’re brother and sister, ok?) in 2008 when they were 8 or 10 weeks old. I don’t remember, exactly, because I’m a crappy mom. Can you imagine if I had human kids? I’d be all, “What? Last week was your birthday? Who the hell ARE you, anyway, and why are you in my kitchen?” It would be disastrous.

Such a drama queen

Originally, we were going to get twin tabbies but they were boring. Instead, Toki chose me so I had to choose him back and Gabe made the unfortunate mistake of going with the prettiest of the litter instead of choosing the one who chose him and we’ve paid for it ever since. She’s a horrible little beast (I love her anyhow). Her name is Evening and she is a diva.

Because of their natures – Evie being all concerned about her stupid fluffy tail and Toki being the prowler and pouncer – we figured our little man would be the first to bag a hunting trophy. We were wrong. Evie brought the first critter – a pregnant mousieshrewvole. She didn’t kill it, though; just stunned it and gave it to us.  Toki was very interested in the whole affair and a week or so later, he brought in a bird. He was quite proud when he presented his catch and we praised him and I secretly vowed to attach more bells to his collar because he did kill his victim.

Several weeks later, I walked out the front door on my way to work and found a decapitated mouse on the doorstep.

Not what I expected to almost step on when I walked out the door.

The following week, there was another, complete with bloody bits of bone parts.

Now it’s getting disturbing. More disturbing, however, is that I take these pictures.

I wondered why there had been deposits sans skulls on our front steps. Was it a very small death threat? Did someone in the house have a crazy stalker who left gruesome presents in the night?

I solved the mystery when I came home one afternoon to find my darling sweetheart angel baby all hunched up on the walkway doing something odd. His back was to me and I thought maybe he was hacking up grass as my dumbass children tend to do. I got out of the car and said soothing things as I walked toward him. He looked over his shoulder with large, psycho-eyes and STARED at me. I began to worry he had rabies or something.

It wasn’t rabies. It was a dead mouse and I had interrupted Toki’s Ancient Egyptian-like method of removing the mouse brain via the eye socket. But he didn’t eat the eye. It was dangling from said socket and there was lavender-gray brain coming out behind it.
If I were a better person, a smarter person, a more sensible person, the type of person my mother probably hoped I’d become rather than the product of her own weird ways, I’d have done pretty much anything other than what I did do. I picked the partially de-brained animal up by its tail – WITHOUT USING FINGER PROTECTION! – and took pictures because that’s the totally sane reaction to finding out your sweet little kitty boy is actually a horrible monster.

I KNOW! RIGHT?

Now I live with the knowledge that my cat is a brain-eating zombie and he is going to get to me one day, too

Brains/braids – so similar and in the same area. He’ll figure it out one day and I’ll be in trouble.

Beware of alligators – and surprise, unscheduled posts!

Sometimes, you just have to get out and go for a drive, especially on lovely days. Today is a lovely day and Gabe had never been to Cripple Creek so I grabbed $25 and we hit the road.
The scenery was breathtaking, as always; it’s why I love the drive.

And sometimes on these kinds of spontaneous adventures, you see odd things, things you don’t expect to see. Ok, to be fair, I expected to see them but since Gabe’s never been down this way, he didn’t and we had to pull over and take a look.

I think that’s supposed to be Bigfoot. I am not kidding.

Worry not! The Flintstones are alive and well in Colorado. They look a bit odd, but, c’mon – give ’em some credit. They’re really old.

RAAWWWRRR! I HAVE REALLY SKINNY ARMS! RAAWWRRR!!! — oh yeah? that’s nuthin’. look at my terribly thin neck. I’m amazed it can hold my head up. oh, and raahhr.

But even I was surprised and saw something I did not expect to see:

Terribly grinny mountain gator. Extremely rare. Proceed with caution. Do not touch, do not feed, do not undo the wire that secures it to the fence.

We made it to Cripple Creek, took Daisy May for a walk in the cemetery, had a picnic at the overlook, spent some time at the Heritage Center (pictures are on another camera) and then went into town. We walked up and down the main drag, found candy store and bought candy cigarettes!!! And real Coke with sugar in it. And root beer. And truffles. It was fantastic.
We’re currently sitting in the Double Eagle Hotel & Casino, having won about $7.00, sucking up their free Wi Fi. It’s AWESOME, even if we had to be attacked by a ‘gator to get here.

Just by the by, why do casinos all have crazy carpet?

All the animals in my town hate my guts.

Before we start, I want to state that this is a ridiculously long post. I’m too lazy to edit it; it’s been the type of week that makes me throw my hands in the air and say, “FINE! YOU WIN!” and so this will be long, rambling, and mostly unedited. And it’s really not even that impressive, otherwise, so this might be one of those Let’s Just Skip This One deals.

In the last post, I mentioned a bear that tipped the compost bin and left me a mess to clean up. I didn’t mention all the other animals that tried to ruin my life, though. I don’t know what I did to whom, but the animals of my town are currently out to get me.

And a good weekend was had by all

Gabe & I completely successed this weekend until it couldn’t breathe. No, seriously, we were like superheroes of accomplishment. I am so impressed with us that I moved the post I’d planned to put here to another day just so I could take some space to brag. Before I start the braggery, though, I’d like to mention we had our first snow this past Friday. It wasn’t a storm or anything but there was a dusting of small white sleety frost-pebbles on the ground and it was frickin’ cold out. Saturday called for more of the same, yet it was all bright and sunny when we got up which was exciting for us because we had a big day planned: we were going to get the Halloween decorations out, get the house staged to be pimped, and then we were going to get my mom and head out to the farm to pick pumpkins. We were all, “Yay! It’s not going to be cold while we pick pumpkins after all!” only then the clouds started looming around 11:00 am and by the time we got out there at 12:30, it was cloudy and moist in the air and it was bitter. That didn’t stop us, though.

Gabe’s first (of many) success!

We brought home 20+ pumpkins. 10 are for carving, 4 were for the neighbors, and the rest are for decoration (I want to do this) Anyhow, we got home with our giant pumpkin load and unpacked them all over the house, giggling and cavorting like…well, morons, really.

All these pumpkins belong to me…and they take up my space so I’ll need to sit in the people seat.

 

We were cold. I made stew and Gabe made bread and we watched “Ghostbusters” because it’s important to get into the…eh heh heh…spirit of the season. Afterward, I finished making Halloween cards while sipping my spiced apple cider because we’re very posh like that.

You know how I said it had snowed and was cold for two full days? Yeah, I figured that meant it was safe to fill the bird feeders and put out the suet. Turns out, I was very wrong. Hungry Bear came into our yard in the night, tore down the feeders and ate everything plus picked up the compost bin and tossed it away so to be better able to dig through the compost. That meant we had extra work to do Sunday morning! Hooray.

Yes. That is a totally redneck garden border. But don’t worry! We’ll make it pretty next year. Maybe.

We cleaned up after the bear – and let me tell you, putting the compost all back together takes forever. I don’t know why, but it does. It was frosty out and it stayed cold in the shade, but the sunny areas quickly warmed and we were able to finish making a deliciously warm bed for our soon-to-be babies, which other people call garlic. We planted 50 cloves (it’s the hardnecked kind and has to sleep in the ground during the winter) plus 7 mutant cloves that might not grow. We said nice things to them and tucked them in for their long sleep. Gabe covered them with warmy-toasty leaves and we will see our babies again in the spring if all goes well.

Then we decorated the heck out of our house! Gabe worked on the inside while I worked on the outside because Gabe is not methodical like I am and he just digs through boxes, looking at stuff and it drives me nuts so I killed him and put him in the yard as a prop. Not really, but I thought about it as I strung purple bat lights across the door. Here’s the end result:

No, really, this place is totally safe and sane. Toooo-tally.

and that’s not including whatever we wind up adding on over the next few weeks. I guess with advertising like that, it’s really no surprise that we get so many trick-or-treaters.

As we drifted off to sleep in our tired and achy old bodies, we congratulated ourselves on a job well done. We completely carped the weekend!