Reading. More Reading. Yet More Reading.

Tomorrow will be my first full day all alone with Miranda.

I've been reading a lot this week.

Miranda's various manuals have proven invaluable in making me feel that I can learn her systems on my own, without anyone to help me. The Ford manuals (and, incidentally, I can't believe I own a Ford), has schematics of the electrical set up which will aid me in installing the backup camera monitor.

Also, I purchased the following two books on Amazon:

Managing 12 Volts: How to Upgrade, Operate, and Troubleshoot 12 Volt Electrical Systems

and

RV Repair and Maintenance Manual: Updated and Expanded (RV Repair and Maintenance Manual)

Neither is the sort of book you want to curl up in bed with (unless you want to be put to sleep!), but they are very informative and will be helpful tomorrow as I start to make modifications to my coach. The language used in both tomes is precise, but doesn't fall into 'technobabble.'

Unfortunately, 'they're' calling for rain all weekend, so I probably won't be able to install my back up camera. I will try to do the inside work, though, and will then focus on getting the study set up.

I plan to spend about an hour with Miranda at the storage place, unloading more boxes, securing what's been unloaded, trying out the awning, and making sure I know where various components like the water heater and furnace are. Then, we're off to Home Depot and then possibly Ikea and Lee Valley. I made a list of what I want at the latter and their prices, so that I can compare products at the Home Depot.

Tomorrow's 'I hope I can do all this!' list:

-Properly install Majel (the GPS unit);
-Wire the backup camera monitor into Miranda's 12V system;
-Remove both beds from the bedroom;
-Remove the carpet from the bedroom;
-Install Allure flooring in the bedroom;
-Reinstall the left-side bed

I doubt I'll get to the desk, so I'll probably have to go back to Miranda on Sunday. Since spending the night at the storage place isn't an option, driving home and back is a more cost-effective plan than would be going to a campground. That's for next weekend!

1,000 Places

Have you ever seen the book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die? I've thumbed through it, but didn't purchase because I'm a long way off from exploring the globe.

Tonight, however, I purchased 1,000 Places In the U.S.A. and Canada to See Before You Die. Thumbing through it has been interesting. Using a strict list of criteria (must have journalled about the place and been to the specific event referenced, if any), I highlighted 55 items out of 1,000. It could have been more if I'd tweaked some of the data--music in Grant Park? Well... I've been to Grant Park even if I didn't listen to music... didn't add that to my list. Charlottetown? Well... I went when I was 6. Didn't make the list. Neither did 'Richmond, Virginia' or other similar entries for places I just drove through.

It was an interesting exercise and gives me some ideas on places to 'hit' in my travels, as well as things to do and restaurants to try, but I certainly don't think this is the be all and end all of the top 1,000 places in the U.S.A. and Canada. A tiny sample of the things not included that would have made my list include:

-a specific spot on Chicago's Navy Pier, the view from which would leave you without any doubt that 'the place of stink grass' has the most beautiful skyline in the United States (been there twice, six years apart, so this is not just romantic memory talking);

-any mining community in northern Quebec: the arctic AND French-Canadian culture in a two-for-one package, plus fantastic vistas and a climate you'll never forget (visit in winter, of course);

-the Coronado bridge in San Diego, the most breath taking wrong exit I ever took;

-the Winnipeg Forks, a place of trade since before recorded history, with, as a bonus, St. Boniface, Winnipeg's French Quarter;


-southeast and central Wisconsin; rolling green hills, quaint villages, antiquing;

-the street in Minneapolis where the 'pavement' is red bricks and the line markings are pale yellow brick;

-Martinique Beach, the prettiest in the Halifax-Dartmouth area.

etc.

These types of books are fun to thumb through, but I know better than to try to check off everything in it. Sometimes you can miss something in one city (the Montreal Jazz festival, for example, because you're not a fan of Jazz), and never forget other things that didn't make the list and which are absolute 'musts'... like the Biodôme.

Who Lives, Who Dies

Last week, I read Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzalez, a fantastic and fascinating study of the psychological, emotional, and physiological reasons that some people survive a dire situation while others die.

He did a case study of the World Trade Center and discussed how some people had started to head down the stairs but were pushed back by 'officials' who told them there was no danger and to stay put. Those who stayed put died and those who pushed past the official lived.

Today, I was given pretty good evidence that I would be a survivor in a similar situation.

Upon discovering the electrical panel on our elevator to be engulfed in flames four witnesses reacted in four different ways:

1) decided to run to her phone across the floor to call for help;
2) decided to run for the emergency phone around the corner;
3) decided to run for the fire extinguisher;
4) decided to follow person number 2 to the red phone in order to pull the fire alarm

Person number 2 gave person number 4 heck for pulling the fire alarm since the fire was extinguished and said there was no way he was hiking down eleven flights without advice from the fire marshals. This person was also one of the 'safety' officers for the floor. He instructed people to stay put until he got word from the fire marshal.

Person number 4 ignored him and headed downstairs. By the time the call came to evacuate the tower, she was four floors above ground level while he was still on the eleventh floor... where the fire had broken out again and smoke had filled the up-until-then smoke-free staircase. There were thirteen floors above him.

I live 10 minutes from work on foot and could hear the police and fire sirens for a full forty-five minutes after I'd pulled the alarm and left the building.

I won't be surprised if work is canceled tomorrow.

Ecclesiastes 1:4

My Bible has a different translation for this passage, but for George R. Stewart it states: Men come and go, but Earth abides.

Hence the title of his classic book Earth Abides. Published in 1949, it is considered one of the finest examples of post-apocalypse literature.

I read it breathlessly, staying up past midnight last night, even, to finish the last hundred fifty pages.

It is a book that struck a profound chord within me. I could see myself in the main character, Ish. It's rare to find a protagonist in this sort of story who is like me, an observer, an over-thinker, and someone marginal. I was also struck by how it reinforced my belief that, in the grand scheme of the universe, our lives are pointless.

The story is obviously a Biblical metaphor. At first, Ish is Adam and his wife is Eve, and they live in the Garden of Eden. But, soon, they take on the roles of Abraham and Sarah, becoming parents to 'The Tribe' from which a new civilization will come as the Tribe is fruitful and multiplies.

I like that it sticks to one perspective, that of Ish, and that all we know about the fate of mankind is what he gleans from the limited information available to him. We know very little about the great plague that decimated our civilization, but very much about what he will miss of that civilization, as well as the bitter realisation that very little knowledge once thought vitally crucial needs be shared with the new generation. Again, our lives are meaningless.

Surprisingly, the book doesn't feel all that dated and it reads well. I could have done with a bit more description and a bit less moaning about the fate of humanity lying the in the hands of stupid people, but it remains brilliant nonetheless. Just think of the premise--a student leaves the world for a bit to get some research done and when he comes out again, he finds that the world has ended.

A haunting, thought provoking read.

Moving Mountains

Mountains of books, that is.

I'm so weary of it.

At least, after so many years of moving the same books, I've finally a) gotten a good grasp of what's worth keeping; b) lost any sentimentality in regards to keeping a book I enjoyed, but will never read again; and c) accepted that a book I've told myself I'll read 'someday' will obviously not get read.

I got rid of four more bags (big ones) of books today.

My library is growing sparse, but very special, holding mostly books that I have read over and over again, tomes I have given myself permission to mark up and mutilate by breaking the spine or bending corners. This serves to remind me that the value of a book is in the words within it, not its physical condition.

The more books that leave my house, the more books I feel comfortable bringing in to replace them, perhaps one really special book for every twenty that goes out. If a book does not inspire me to mark it up as I read, then I know I won't be referring to it again, so out it goes. It's nice to email a friend to offer her a book you enjoyed and which you're certain she'll enjoy (and even better to learn that it was on her reading list).

I used to be a Reader. I don't consider myself to be one any more since I only read in fits and spurts. This week I read three books, and started two others, but I can go for weeks without reading anything other than reference tomes on Wicca or ancient Egypt. The more I declutter my library, however, letting go of books that no longer reflect who I am, the more I want to read again, and voraciously so. No longer encumbered by the weight of books belonging to an old life, I feel free to devour piles of tomes that will open new horizons.

This past year, my focus was very heavily on my religious studies, but I've given myself permission to move on to other topics. A few days ago, I was reading a frothy novel by Sophie Kinsella while today I am deep into a post-apocalyptic novel (more about that one to come). Yesterday, I read the memoir of an American in Afghanistan. I am beginning to rediscover the me who was a true Reader.

I've decided that I will be limiting myself to five boxes (of the printer paper variety) of books on this move. It's a frighteningly small number and I will not consider myself an abject failure at purging if I go over this number. But I will listen to that little voice in my head reminding me that soon I will need to fit my library on a bus. The massive dictionaries I no longer consult thanks to good online reference sources will need to go next. That will lighten the load of the move considerably!

Much as I love the idea of acquiring technology like the Amazon Kindle, there is something to be said for the weight of a book in your hand. I love the different textures of paper, but prefer heavy scratchy pages. There is also that heady smell of ink mixed with dust that never ceases to remind me that I am about to embark on an adventure. Marking a striking passage with a pen and/or highlighter is another thing that cannot be done quite so dramatically with pixels. Those messy little lines and symbols tell me that I have been possessed by the material, that I have truly grasped it. Writing in books used to horrify me, but now I can't imagine not doing it. They are my proof that I read the book and that what the author had to say mattered to me.

Reading

Monasticism fascinates me. It is something that is contrary to Wicca as I understand my religion and, yet, I find it very appealing. Renouncing the world in order to serve the gods would be very freeing.

This fascination led me to Mark Salzman's book Lying Awake, the story of a cloistered nun in modern-day Los Angeles who faces a crisis of faith.

I cannot offer any opinion of the book as a study of monastic life for Carmelite nuns. But, as a study of faith, I can say that the author knows something about the subject. Even though the nun's faith wasn't expressed in a way I find personally valid, the questioning was no different from mine.

A tiny sample of the passages I highlighted:

But what is my dream? Is it really to know God, or is it to know personal happiness? Didn't Teresa also warn that the price of following a dream includes painful setbacks, even having to start all over again? Sometimes it means facing things that we can't face, to learn the depth of God's mystery and our need for faith. My God, I feel as if I am being torn apart.

You [God] was here all along.

God made me as I am. Each of us is given a unique cross to bear, each situation in life a personal call to become holy. He would not have taken me on this journey for nothing.

How blessed I am to know that God is real. What a gift, to know that God's love never fails.

Faith is faith, no matter its expression.

*rubs eyes*

My reading has definitely passed the 'fluffy' stage to academic. The Spiral Dance was an easy read. Drawing Down the Moon required more effort. The Triumph of the Moon is taking all my energy. Two nights in (one hour of reading), I haven't even made it past the introduction yet.

I have a BA in history, so I'm no stranger to dry as toast literature and I know that I can and will get through this book, but I can't say how long it'll take.

My reading pile is THIS high (should take a picture of it, LOL), but I'm definitely making my way through it slooooooooowly.

Books!

This morning was a lovely cool and slightly overcast fall day... and I had nothing pressing to do at home. So, after tidying the kitchen and passing the vacuum upstairs, I headed off to Chapters to check out books and treat myself to a now rare cinnamon soy latté at Starbucks. Part of the exercise was to get some exercise, so I parked about fifteen minutes from the Chapters. :-)

Chapters had nothing I was willing to pay for, their Wiccan books completely fluffy and everything else overpriced. So, I got my latté and ambled down to the Sunnyside Bookshop, the place in town for all books Egyptian. There, I found a huge pile of wonderful books at greatly marked down prices (probably remainders), so I pulled everything that interested me off the shelf and then went through the agonizing process of weeding down my selection to a reasonable total. I took a chance on An Enchanted Life: An adept's guide to masterful magick and Devoted to You: Honoring Deity in Wiccan practise. But my real find just about made me faint: Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt. This book retails for 95$ new and the cheapest used copy I could find was on Amazon for 55$. I got a pristine, brand new copy for... 15$. Woohoo!!! It won't be pristine for long though as I'll need to add to it by putting in the various ways things are spelled and including any other info as needed (Post-Its will be great for this), but I've FINALLY got my most coveted book. Patience pays off yet again! Thank you, lord Thoth; I recognize your doing.

Environmentalism

This summer I've been reading major titles about the Craft and its history. I'm currently at Margot Adler's Drawing Down the Moon and came across a thought that is so obvious it made me smack my head. As someone who believes in reincarnation, positive environmental action doesn't just ensure a planet for future generations, but also for myself. I definitely need to get more involved again.

Tightwad Gazette

So, I finally got a copy of The Complete Tightwad Gazette and am so put off by the author that I'm not convinced the book is going to be any use to me.

Now, I have no problem with thrift, admire even the psycho thrifters who make their money go further than I could ever dream of making mine go, and agree that there are lots of places in my life where I could be a lot more thrifty. But I think that being thrify can become an illness and the author of TCTG has reached that point as far as I'm concerned.

The first article that tipped me off was the 'tightwad test.' One of the questions was what the dinner conversation would be at a fancy restaurant, the meal for which was being paid by gift certificates. The 'correct' answer, according to the author, is to spend the evening analysing how much more cheaply the meal could be made at home! WHAT?! Now, I'm someone who likes to dine out who had cut back her dining expenditures significantly. So, when I treat myself to a meal out, it's to enjoy being served, not having to make the meal and clean up after it, etc., that I think about. If the meal is a gift, so much the better. That question implied that the author would have preferred to have received the value of the gift certificate in cold hard cash for her grocery budget. Personally, I'd strike her off my gift list.

The other comment that irritated me was when she chided herself for taking a hot bath. COME ON! If you're being thrifty in every other area of your life, that you're working hard at home to work less outside the home, have a family, etc., what is so wrong with taking a time out in a hot tub of water???

Finally, what is with her attitude regarding seafood??? Yes, seafood is pricier than tuna or chicken, but what's wrong with wanting shrimp once in a while??? You know what, author? Yeast costs a lot of money, so why don't you make unleavened bread instead?

I agree with the author in principle in regards to her basic philosophy--that thrift can be used to buy your freedom, but when thrift becomes a reason for denigrating generous gifts or little luxuries, then I think there's a problem. The author does have a lot to teach, with years of experience backing her up, but her attitude towards 'spend thrifts' is so superior as to be insulting.

Yes, I am currently one of those spend thrifts she so despises (although I do have areas where I show astounding frugality), but I haven't always been. There was a time in the not so long ago past, that I had to make do--make do with two shirts and one pair of pants for a whole semester because I couldn't afford even thrift store offerings, make do with a 25$ per month food budget because the food banks turned me down (thank goodness for wild foods which probably account for the fact that I never got scurvy), make do without social outings, make do with the boots that had a hole in them.... All that make doing taught me the value of certain things, like a splurge for shrimp or a hot bath on a cold winter's night.

Yet Another New Level

I went book shopping today at both amazon.ca and at the local Chapters, seeking out books by Wiccan 'elders', picking up a copy of Starhawk's The Spiral Dance, Margot Adler's Drawing Down the Moon, and Isaac Bonewit's Essential Guide to Witchcraft and Wicca. I'm no longer focussed on what Wicca is to me, but, rather, what it is to others, as well as its true historical roots. In other words, I've now finally turned an academic eye to my Wiccan studies.

I am content with the way I live Wicca and the direction I am taking with my faith. But I find that my knowledge is too self-centred, too focused on what I feel inside. I have a hard time externalizing my beliefs. At first, I thought that was not necessary. But the broom closet becomes stuffier and stuffier and I think that I will eventually have no choice but come out of it to my family.

My extended family (especially my grand-mother) is devoutly Catholic while my immediate family (especially my mother) seems agnostic, maybe even atheist. I know that my grand-mother will understand, if she wants, my description of religious revelation, but my mother will want a much more academic, even 'lay' description of my beliefs. I need to be able to show that my beliefs didn't materialize out of thin air, that they have a history, that they are 'legitimate.'

This weekend, I attended a baptism for my nephew. He was baptized not because of his parents' personal beliefs, but, rather, because of family pressure. I'd like my beliefs to be known ahead of such events, so that my grand-mother won't faint should I ever be handfasted, or my mother be completely flummoxed by the death celebration ritual I have prepared.

Reading Being a Pagan, a collection of interviews with Pagans, I now have a greater sense of my own faith, seeing that while I do have an individual, even unique, take on it, my foundation is no different than that of those who follow a Druid, Astaru, or Faery path.

Most truthfully, though, I am getting lonely and am eager to reach out to the pagan community at a gathering of some sort and I'd like to be able to show up knowing that I'm not completely misguided in thinking of myself as 'Wiccan' and that others I meet will find me a kindred spirit.

The more I read the more I see that, a) I am most definitely Wiccan; b) I am most definitely following an uncommon path; and c) there is a definite (and desperate) need for Tameran Wicca literature.

Purification

One of the very first things I did after taking possession of my new home was to complete a purification.

I began by inviting and welcoming my gods into my home and asked them to overlook the purification and bless my new abode.

Then, I adapted Scott Cunningham's four elements purification as described in his book The Magical Household. I will obviously not reproduce the spell here (get a copy of the book, it is excellent), but I will describe the slight modifications I made.

My new home has three stories, which include a hard to access basement. So, I did the purge on the two levels to start. With each pass, the 1st and 2nd stories felt brighter and more homey, while the basement began to feel sinister. When I was done purifying the two levels, I then used a bit of each of the elements to do one pass through the basement. I carefully shone a light into all the dark corners of that creepy place until it felt like my own private dungeon. When I was done, the whole house seemed new and clean and my own. I then tossed my used supplies out the back door to purify my outdoor space. I should point out here that the 'supplies' included some salt water, a bit of burnt candlewick, and some incence ashes, nothing that is too environmentally damaging.

I cannot over emphasize the importance of spiritually purifying your new home, and updating that purification whenever you feel that negative energy has settled into neglected corners.

Tomorrow, I will do a sort of reverse purification at my old home as I sweep it clean of all the residual energy from my old life to prepare the home for new owners.

Book Review Update

I've now read the first three Shopaholic book by Sophie Kinsella and my initial opinion still holds, and then some! That's high praise for me who tends to drop a series after a couple of books (Harry Potter is a notable exception.).

They are extremely funny (the laugh out loud in public and read bits to your cat kind of funny) and still very pertinent to those who want to take better control (or not, for that matter) of their finances.

Very, very enjoyable!

Breakfast, and a Book Review

I have breakfast and fresh coffee at work every single morning. Sounds expensive, right? Well, it's not. I keep a supply of peanut butter, powdered milk, and sugar at my desk, a week's worth of bagels in the kitchen freezer, and every couple of days I grind some coffee beans at home to take to work. I know that making breakfast at work isn't an option for everyone, but it's okay here--there's a toaster in the kitchen and I'm allowed to keep a coffee maker at my desk. Since I get up extremely early and have a hideously long commute, I've been shaving off time from my morning routine by not eating straight away. Instead, I dress and go. By the time I get to work, an hour and a half or so later, I've had some exercise and am actually hungry. I eat around 7:30- 8AM and I usually 'last' until 11:30-12, when I have lunch. Before, I used to be famished by 9, so I'd go downstairs for a muffin or other treat. So, by making breakfast at work, I save both money and calories! I do occasionally go get coffee downstairs, but not as often as I once did. I'd rather have my coffee while I start work then to drink it at home or in the car (tried both options). Now that I'll be moving much closer to work, I'll probably start eating breakfast at home again, but this current routine has probably saved me hundreds of dollars and calories!

Now, on to the book review.

I'm reading the Shopoholic series by Sophie Kinsella. When a colleague passed me the first one, I wasn't too interested, thinking that they'd be completely frivolous. I've only read the first one so far, but what I can say about it is that it is only superficially frivolous. In fact, this book has several excellent messages about finding your passion, taking responsibility for you life, and spending consciously. It made me feel better about some of my consumer behaviour, while leaving me horrified about certain habits. They should be a must read for anyone in their eyeballs in debt or who never know where all their money went. They're also hysterically funny! Highly recommended.

Suffer Not a Witch

Do I, as a Witch, have a moral and ethical obligation to inform the devout Christians in my entourage that I am a Witch?

I did my volunteer shift at the annual book show with the same person as last year, a devout, Bible-thumping, very sweet lady who really, really likes me. Last year, I hardly knew her, but I got a taste for what is acceptable to her through the books she perused. This year, I got a much clearer answer to a question that's been plaguing me--should I come out of the broom closet to her? For one thing, she has invited me into her home on several occasions and seems to be under the assumption that I am Christian. I haven't done anything to encourage or discourage this belief. She'll probably freak out to learn that I am a pagan!

We passed a kiosk today set up by a local religious publisher. She gasped suddenly and said that her esteem of them just about went down because she saw some kids books about witches (the green kind with a big warty nose who ride broomsticks)... until she realised that the witchy books belonged to another publisher.

Combine that with her opinion of Harry Potter (magic=bad) and I know now that if I come out to her as a Wiccan, Witch, and practitioner of the white arts she will have an issue with that. I doubt that she would try to make my life 'difficult' because she seems to have a good soul, but I'm sure that she will feel betrayed.

So, I ask again, do I have a moral and ethical obligation to her to let her know what I am so that she can choose whether or not to literally honour what her faith tells her she should do with me? The Rede doesn't help me much. I mean, do I cause her more harm by not telling her, or by telling her?

This is the first time that my 'unorthodox' faith weighs heavy on my heart, that I realise the damage it can cause, the sacrifices it requires. Wicca is, truly, a contrary religion, almost as much a curse as it is a blessing, in fact. For I did not choose this, and I wonder why I was chosen.

Not Counting Hours, But Almost!

This day in exactly one month, I'll be getting the keys to my new house! I can't wait!!!

It'll be strange to be a renter again after being a homeowner for the past three years, but I look forward to it! Next time I choose to be a homeowner, it'll be of a home that only needs minor work. I never, ever want to live in chaos for three years straight with no end in sight. It's like that Non-Sequitur cartoon I have hanging on my cubicle wall that offers a man two different hells--burning for eternity or living in his house while it's being remodeled.... and he thinks that it's pretty much a coin flip. Yep.

That said, I don't regret the past three years. I've learned so much! My father had a lot to do with what I learned and my happiest recent memories of him are of the work we did on the house before he fell ill.

I'm trying to get rid of a lot of furniture before I move because I now refuse to have anything in my home that I don't whole-heartedly love. I've tried Freecycle and received a lot of hits, but my first visit was a no-show at 6:30 this morning. Not impressed. When I move, I plan to buy brand new bookshelves so they're all the same (unless I get really lucky at the used furniture places in my new neighbourhood), but the rest, including a new-to-me bedroom set will wait. I was going to go the Ikea route, but that just makes me heart-sick. I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to know how many bookshelves I need until I had an epiphany--measure how many feet of shelf I currently have. I, erm, stopped at 60. I love books. :-)

One of the things I love about moving is that it forces you to evaluate what you own and uncovers new things (for example that I need to organize my ritual supplies a bit better when several days of packing and many pleas to Anubis (and St-Anthony, for good measure) have failed to turn up my favourite spellbook). I'm surprised that I don't have a lot of 'junk' left now. I had a packrat epiphany when I moved into this house that my stuff owned me and I did a massive purge, something that I turned into an annual event. Now, I walk the fine line between been an obsessive purger like my dad and having nothing 'sentimental' left, and being a packrat who never lets go of anything. I'm doing pretty well. My current house is a mess because I have no place to put anything, not because I have a lot of junk.

So my next house, with all its storage should, technically, be neater. I've moved several times in the past 9 years and each time made the same mistake of living out of boxes while I got used to my space and could determine where things should go. Since I wasn't in those places more than a year or two, I never got 'organized' and never had a neat place (except for my first, darling, apartment). I'm going to be in my new house at least 18 mos and I plan to get unpacked right away. I look forward to an Ikea shopping spree for organizational products like baskets. Ikea does have its place in my life, but I couldn't imagine a home full of Ikea furniture.

I get the keys April 1st and hope to move sometime around the 16th, since it's cheaper to move mid-month and on a weekday. I'm in no hurry to leave my current house, so I'll have time to clean my new place, measure, and bring over the awkward stuff I don't want movers to bring. My bro-in-law will be arriving from the Metropolis on the first with some things from my dad, plus a couch my mother has generously donated to replace my cat-destroyed loveseat (I'm not too worried about the new couch since the old one was destroyed by my beloved cat-son who died two days after Yule last year. But that's another story). So, even if I don't have all my 'stuff' at the new house right away, I'll be able to sleep there comfortably the first couple of weeks. I'll be motivated to do this because my current house is 1 hour away from work by car while my new house is 8 minutes away from work on foot. :-)

31 days and counting!