SECTION VII: THE CAULDRON
15.
When the Goddess Hides Her Face - Samantha
16. Critters - Baboo Kyra Finch
17. Return from the Shadows - Riversong Drusea'
18. Wise One - Samantha
By Line:
SAMANTHA LINASCHKE is a native of California, now living in the Netherlands. A practicing
witch and Seer for over ten years, She is a teacher and scholar of Celtic Lore, Arthurian
Legend and Wicca. She has strong ties to her native American and Irish ancestry, as well
as experience in the study of the ancient religions and histories of Egypt, Mesopotamia
and the works and theories of Atlantis. She works from her home in Amsterdam as a writer
and artist. Currently she is working on a tarot deck based on the Pantheon of the Irish
Faery ancestors, the Tuatha De Dannan. She can be reached by email at SidheQueen@carbonblack.com
When the Goddess hides her face
By Samantha Linaschke 1998
The air seems colder, or is it just the chill creeping into my bones? Is this cold only
the knowing, that I wander amid stagnate pools? A swamp of despair and anxiety sucks at
the soles of my feet. It makes it difficult to move onward or is it just my mind? I can
see the muck and mire clinging to the hem of my tattered robes. The fog is not high but it
stretches on beyond reason. I can feel it weaving patterns around my legs as though tying
knots about me. Tears roll down my pale cheeks and turn into steam. I start to the sound
of ravens' wings beating about my neck. Then I see it is only my hair, cold and wet
thrashed about by invisible breath. There is no sun, no moon, and no star to guide me on.
I fight within myself to move forward with my task. I am guided forward only by the
faithful whisper of my heart. Oh how I long for warmth, for merriment. I long for life, of
the Beltane fires, where the pulse of life ebbs to the tide of the moon. Oh sweet, good,
and strong is the moon. But she is not here, no one is here, nothing is here. There is no
mouse nor night owl to keep me company, Just silence. I am somewhere between the realm of
the living and the land of youth, somewhere between the in-between. My mind could wander
forever here, but the crescent burns upon my brow urging me onward. I walk with myself, or
has that too forsaken me?
The words of power take form and surge forth from my soul, like a kiss of fire from my
lips. Before me, no longer, the gray mists. Instead, I am embraced by the light of her
beautiful face. The doubts are gone. I walk always with her, I walk on my Goddess, my
Lady; I walk on, into the light and the world.
Wise one
24 February, 1999
Even now, the air around me has changed.
Winds of prayer about me sing.
Inspiration is within
Fire burns inside my breast.
My sacred flame glows with polarity.
Initiation is within.
The waters of my soul run deep and still.
Tides of emotion can no longer tow me under.
Consecration is within.
My very bones crafted of hallowed ground,
Made From the earth that hugs my feet.
Integration is within.
All my sacrifices have been made.
I now wear the cloak woven of experience.
I have seen her eyes starring back at me a million times
across the years.
I embrace her always in the arms of my essence.
She is my mother, I cling to her as daughter
I am her lover; we are the one, the three.
I look and she is there.
Maiden alight with inspiration
Mother- creator of Initiation
Wisdom- Crone of integration
The Dark Lady of culmination.
CRITTERS - Baboo Kyra
I share my environment with various other beings. There are varying numbers of dogs. Two
Lhasa Apsos and a Shi Tzu. They share 1/2 a brain that they pass around and lose
occasionally. The world’s oldest doberman bitch. I don’t know how old she is in
years, but she’s very vague, given to standing and staring into space for hours at a
time. Then there’s Griff, part Rottweiler, part Lab, and the rest is anyone’s
guess. He’s 100 pounds of the smartest dog I’ve ever encountered. He knows
he’s a dog, but feels that a lack of thumbs is no excuse to exlude him from any
activity.
My husband and I have always been at odds when it comes to discipline. I feel that you
should discipline kids and not dogs; he feels you should discipline dogs and not kids; the
end result is that no one gets disciplined except me.
Lilith is the kind of snake that people who are afraid of snakes aren't afraid of.! A
California King Snake, she is a princess, a wimp and a cuddlepuss. She's afraid of mice,
but loves being petted and fussed over, and flirts with her reflection in the glass of the
terrarium. She somehow knows when someone is going to take her picture, and will pose
until the click of the camera. Pretty good for a being without ears or a cerebral cortex.
She also has a crescent moon mark on her forehead. I take her to school in the summer and
the kids take turns holding her around their necks. I think they think I'm her pet. She
likes kids a lot.
Now, mice on the other hand are NASTY! They bite, they're smelly and they eat holes
through everything. The males fight with each other all the time.
I started sharing my life with an indeterminate number of mice quite by accident. In
October, I bought three small, nice white mice for Lilith’s pre-hibernation supper. I
had miscalculated and she was already down for the count. She wouldn’t eat again now
until April.
I put the mice in a vacant aquarium to see if her appetite would perk up one more time
before her winter nap. I felt they should at least be as comfortable as possible, so I
gave them a basket to live in, newspapers to shred and gourmet Kashi to eat.
A week passed. Lilith slept on. Two of the mice looked pregnant.
After a month, I had about 20 mice. I moved the lot of them to a larger terrarium. I was
getting a bit nervous because Lilith wouldn’t wake up and eat for months. I
couldn’t separate the babies from the mothers, and I did have several aquariums left
over from my tropical fish raising phase.
I couldn’t leave the habitats bare. I put in a pretty little house. It was ceramic,
had several rooms, and was sort of California mission style architecture. I gave them some
branches to climb, oak moss and dog fur trimmings for nesting, and more paper to shred. I
kept the large terrarium on the table next to my bed so I could watch them living their
busy little lives while awaiting sleep.
I found watching the mice more entertaining than watching tropical fish. They weren’t
tame...I refused to bond with them on a personal and individual basis. Besides, I
couldn’t tell them apart. So I watched them; and, they watched me, and the babies
were now pregnant.
I put two terrariums together and connected them with a bridge, never thinking that the
mice might make a plunge to the floor. The bridges came to an abrupt end when my husband
suddenly started finding escapees – in the den, his office, the bedroom closet, the
kitchen.
In the meantime, I had started scouring garage sales and swap meets for the enclosed
plastic habitats with all the wonderful tubes and toys. They would turn up regularly,
accompanied by tragic tales of escaped hamsters and the family cat. One family’s
tragedy was my mice’s gain. The mice now had tunnels, towers, and a variety of wheels
for their entertainment.
The male mice were on a testosterone high. They would party all night, arguing, fighting,
drinking beer and smoking cigars, and driving the female mice crazy. I was up to about 50
mice and it was time to thin the pack.
We called various pet stores to see if we could strike a deal to barter dog food for mice.
The one that had sold me the three mice originally offered me 50 cents credit per mouse.
That sounded good to me. Of course, it didn’t come close to a break even financially.
They eat Kashi, fresh greens and grains from my garden, gourmet peanut butter flavored dog
biscuits, and an occasional oatmeal cookie. Their diet is healthier than mine.
I was now using a very large terrarium. There was a toy castle in the center. It had a
moat, a drawbridge, and, best of all, a secret trap door! I would watch some unsuspecting
young mouse climb the castle steps, step on the door, and CLICK! Down it would drop to the
bottom floor with a loud squeak! After a couple of times, though, it would be using the
trap door deliberately as a short cut. These little guys are smart. My dogs can’t
figure out how to get from the den to the living room.
The terrariums ended when we discovered that the mice were catapulting themselves off the
drawbridge and out into the house -- again. They went to totally enclosed habitats. It was
a relief for my husband to have the mice in enclosed mouse houses; we hadn’t realized
yet that the little buggers could open the little plastic doors and eat through the
plastic tubes.
I keep redesigning the habitats. I’ve now acquired quite a number of them, with about
a mile of tunnels. When I claimed to my friends that I was being considerate, (after all,
there’s nothing sadder than a bored mouse), they accused me of playing Goddess! I
mean, really!
The group dynamics are fascinating. I don’t know any mouse in particular, but I can
see how Rodentia functions. They have a complicated society.
I love to watch the females interact with the babies and each other. The youngest females
are very careful and gentle with their little pink jelly beans. They worry about them,
groom them constantly, replace strays back into their clean nests; they have circles under
their eyes.
The old females are totally different. For one thing, they are huge
(comparatively
speaking). They are calm, fearless, and run the show. If they find a stray from any
litter, they grab it by an available body part and fling it back into the nearest nest.
They do not brook any monkeyshines, thank you very much! They baby-sit so that the mothers
can nap up in the towers and get away from those damn babies for a while.
They also stand guard around the communal nests, terrorizing any male who dares venture
too near the babies. They nurture the young mothers, and, I’m sure, give them lots of
advice. If I encroach on the nests when I’m cleaning the habitats, they will bop my
hand with their teeth. They don’t bite, but the message is unmistakable. “Off
Limits!”
When the babies begin to wander out of the nest, the mothers all become very anxious. They
race through the habitats and tunnels looking for strays. When they find wanderers, they
return them to the nest, scolding them in the little chatters that is their language.
While the mother is returning one baby, five others have made a break for freedom. The
mother, who is pregnant again anyway, gives up the battle when the new litter arrives.
These mice have become very athletic and adept at problem solving. Lilith finally woke up
and she was confronted with one of the aggressive Rambo males. She took one look and hid
under her log. She won’t tackle them unless she’s very hungry. I should mention
that Lilith is five feet long and two inches in diameter.
I let the bull mice have their little rodent wars, and Lilith gets the losers. Big
Al’s Pet Emporium gets my excess males. Any mouse that bites me gets time out with
Lilith that is really harder on her than them. I wouldn’t dream of messing with the
old mothers. They scare me.
SECTION I: HOLIDAY LORE
* Ostara - StormWing
* Oestre - Baboo Kyra Finch
* A Druid's Pondering - LadyToad
* Spring Equinox - Sarolta
SECTION II: FAMILY ISSUES
* Promoting Pagan Family Values - Selene
* Pagan Parenting - WindSeeker
SECTION III: STORY TIME
* CatCorner - Sorcy SummerWind
* Fiona & Julian - Selene SilverWind
* Meagan Stories - Kat Dyer
SECTION IV: ASK AUNTIE AHN
* Online Help Corner - Ahneke GreyStone
SECTION V: RESOURCES
* Herblore - Dor (Poem by Kyra)
* Wicca 101 - Rhiannon Diana
SECTION VI: PAGAN HAPPENINGS
* Events List - Selene SilverWind
SECTION VII: THE CAULDRON
* When the Goddess Hides Her Face - Samantha
* Critters - Baboo Kyra Finch
* Return from the Shadows - Riversong Drusea'
* Wise One - Samantha
