PALM READING

mmpalmsAfter a self imposed hiatus from reading palms, I am so happy to announce that I am once more checking out your lines, helping you understand your destiny, and just having fun with people I enjoy.  Although I am not as glamorous as Ms.Monroe in the picture,  I promise you an interesting time!

Currently you can see my schedule at Mind Body Spirit in St Cloud, and schedule a reading there for your convenience.  I will post continuing updates with new venues, and offers.

Otherwise, I am available for private parties, (I love Bachorlette Parties) and private readings.

Your destiny, your life is in the palm of your hands.

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A slight romantic tale of fiction

youngHer  name was Tirion. A Kale from Wales. Often she was confused with the Gypsy. But was not such. Tirion‘s  kind has always traveled in Britain, from before even the Celts traveled to Ireland to conquer and control. They are not Gypsy, They are, and will always be, Travelers.

Even so, they share much in common with the Gypsies, journeying from place to place, and share much with our United States country’s own native tribes. They were persecuted for their beliefs, and often found themselves hiding  survive. Survive they did. Making their way, moving from village to city to ocean to mountain to plain, working hard; using the strength of their minds and their bodies.

Her own Gran, my Gran many times past, had a sight, theoldwoman ability to see past the veils of this world into others, and could reach into the soul of another to understand and hear their hidden secrets. From her Tirion was passed these gifts, and with them, she made her own small living.cards

From her words to my Gran’s Mother to my Gran and to me, I heard this tale…

“We look to the other world for our spiritual delight. Mab, Queen of all the Fairies we call our own, and the Fairies we are cousin to. My ancestors danced with the Fairies on many a midsummer eve, and many a hallowed eve, ensuring our prosperity and comfort. Together we drew down the moon, and made the small magic’s that kept our world turning.

I can tell you many a tale of my five decades here on this earthly plane, tales of visits with my cousins, tales of time spent with this United States own native peoples, and tales of my travels, sorrows, and joy. But I will begin, with just the small beginning. To say how I came to this vast and wonderful land of ours, this Western glory.

My Ma; as a Lass, came across the great ocean on a merchant ship bound from the port of Liverpool, in the year of 1825, headed to a port of New York City. Her passage was paid by a grand and fine Lady, and for this Lady my Ma fetched and carried, helping to achieve all of the fuss and froofa that great Ladies must have.

Her private time was little, but one fine morning she happened above decks, to stand with the salty breeze blowing through her hair, and the feel of the sun on her face. A swell rocked the deck, and she tumbled, crying out in alarm.

sailor in mastNow above her was the man who would be my Da, a Traveler as well, who had hired on the ship to earn his own safe passage to the Americas. He worked the sails, climbing up and down the masts, doing all those things that sailors do. Hearing her cry, he looked down, and saw her coppery curls glinting in the light, and her slight form tumbled about the deck. And she, lying on that deck looked up into the sky and saw himself, sun-browned and lean, hanging above her.

Quickly he clambered down the mast, and rushing to her, helped her back on to her feet. Looking into one anothers faces they knew, with their souls that they  to be together.

Later that evening, my Ma once more crept above deck, to find Da, waiting, where her heart knew he would be. And thus I was created, and still to this day, I hold in my mind a connected memory of the sound and smell of salty waves rocking against the wooden sides of a ship, and the sight of stars shining down into the water.”

I blushed as my gran told me this story, and was thrilled to know of the love running in my veins.

gypsy wagon

Time for a Wagon

Time for a Gypsy Wagon

Please take some time to check out my new endeavor!tyger voyage

Time

e5abd8f57a2eabc2b3401b6c8b85e4e7Time for my hair to go white and gray

Time to sleep, time to pray, time to remember.

Until Spring, and the heat soaks my bones.

 

Am I wrong

bohimean

 

A comment to John the other day.  “My favorite people are really weird!”    It is true.  With other souls who have a skewered outlook on living I am the most comfortable, the most at home.

Finally

grinchFinally today I felt the spirit of Christmas in my soul.  I was not sure it was coming to visit.

Today I am planning cookies for the cookie exchange, a dozen spritzes anyone?  I am thinking of food for the celebrations we will be attending and hosting.  I am thinking of gifts to give.

I am thinking of love, of family, of joy.

Happy Birthday

linda22Happy Birthday to our irrepressible sister Linda.  I miss you.

I miss your goofy garage sales, your awesome car, your love of thrift stores.  I miss your love, your understanding, your heartfelt wish to make others happy.

I miss you as my confidant, second mother to my daughters, my happy-go-lucky camping companion.  You always made me laugh, and drew me into adventures to places and activities we maybe should not have gone.  Sarah still calls our camping weekends therapy weekends.  Not because they were therapeutic, but because Camping-Signshe swears she needs therapy for them to this day.

Before you passed, you told me that you would tell me what happens after and you did.  And you continue to send to me small little missives, like messages on a carrier pigeon. Sometimes just a smell, or a word I see written that brings your smile to my eyes, and your laugh to my ears.

Yesterday I was pulling some books from my shelf, and out fell a birthday card that you had created for me many years ago.  Were you reminding me that I need to prepare for your birthday, or just saying hey?  Once, in the middle of a snow storm in Minneapolis WMT blasted from my radio for just a minute.  What the heck, I had just been thinking of you.  And of course the dream  you sent shortly after you left. (the dream)  Previous File: jmTreeOfLife_1_10.psd Epson_2_05WP_720uni_2005_0411

I smell the scent of greenhouse flowers while driving down highways.  That started after as well.  I am not sure why I associate this with you but I surely do.

So yes, you have taught me, loved me, and I continue to cherish you.  I wish we could really talk, catch up, go thrifting, visit corny parks, and live in each others moments.   I miss that part of having you here.

Happy Happy Birthday my sister. Continue to enjoy your life beyond.

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