ferine: (yellow)
Huh. Pretty cool transformations.
ferine: (Default)
Allow me to wax a bit on the recent past, since 2011 is officially winding down.

Just before Halloween I came dizzyingly close to a rather expensive impulse buy. Every year before Halloween the boys and I haunt a local year-round party store called FUN Services. It's a huge building built to look like a castle constructed of gray stones. Great fiberglass dragon sculptures grace the rooftops and one perches near the parking lot. This year they were sporting a new Halloween prop for sale, a werewolf dubbed "Heavy Metal Wolf". It stood perhaps 6 ft. tall, and seemed nicely made at first glance: Digitigrade, fur hand applied, glass eyes, lots of attention given to make the muzzle, teeth, feet, and hands appear real. The sunglasses were a cheesy addition, as was the flimsy rubber mat cut into a guitar shape it brandished. It was on sale for $295. If the gut was padded, I might've snapped and picked it up. As it was, though, it was gaunt for lack of pillows to stuff it's torso with. It would have been impressive fully done up; it's a shame the store faculty didn't present it better. If< it's there again next year, I'm going to inspect it closer and ask the workers about it. If I'm satisfied with the structural integrity of the beast, I'll ask if they'll sell it to me without the sunglasses and the chintzy "guitar".

And now for the titters... well, alright, the full-on guffaws. But first, a caveat: I am not a prolific writer, nor do I send submissions to every venue in existence. I try to admire those who are and do regardless of talent or skill, because at least they're pursuing a dream and trying. To sum it up, it's not my place to poo poo a publishing house, or to chuckle at the glaring lack of proof-reading or editorial skills of the contributors in a given anthology from said publishing company. Remember, here I am, pushing 40, disabled as f-ck and living with my parents--I.E., a sad lonely old nerd that hasn't been published in ages. *Laughs*
That said, let me also state that my tittering is actually good-natured, and I mean the publishing house and its contributors no ill will. They serve an audience and seem to be thriving, so good on them.

Ack, 'tis bedtime. Will finish this on Sunday. Yee-hah!
ferine: (yellow)
Watched the gratuitously gross and amusing film Hatchet II last week on satellite, and was pleasantly surprised to hear the Ministry song "Just One Fix" at the opening and the closing.

Now, I used to be a huge Ministry fan. The slightly aggressive electro-Industrial album that came out in 1986, Twitch, captivated me. '88 and '89's Land Of Rape and Honey and The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste coincided perfectly with my harsher sensibilities at the time, their new sound a merger of Industrial and hardcore punk. I actually lost track of the band after that, even though I played the three tapes, and later CDs, often for many years.

Then, like I said, I caught Hatchet II last week, and it rekindled my Ministry love. I spent a few days looking up all of their albums on amazon.com and listening to the given samples. My, they've been prolific since 1990. Their music has undergone changes that don't necessarily appeal to me anymore (too thrash-metal for my taste), though I really liked, and downloaded, the single version and the extended remix of "Just One Fix".

For fun I downloaded several other older Ministry songs as well, fiery aggro energizing ditties. Then, the heat and volume beneath my brain-pan cranked up to 11, caffeine from too much coffee and diet cherry Mountain Dew (aptly called Code Red) scorching through my veins, a curious idea morphed into being. A cunning idea. Oh, yes. Indeed.

Now that my LJ and DW readers are whittled down to a manageable few, and any illusory hint of on-line "popularity" has long-since dropped off like a withered vestigial tail, I feel content to disgorge my writing and ideas here. Uh... Woo hoo?

Anyway, the nitty gritty: Set, obviously, to a steady diet of Ministry. Short story or long? Not sure yet. Plot will be about lycanthropy as an addiction. Main character obsessed with werewolves from a young age (gee, sound familiar?), finally manages to find one, begs for a bite, then finds out why there are so few werewolves in the world.
ferine: (Default)
Be sure to clicky da link: http://www.bloody-disgusting.com/news/27679

Wow, each of these has my curiosity piqued.

I used to be a member of the bloody disgusting site. Technically I still am, as ferine. Due to the overwhelmingly juvenile comments from the most frequent posters, I haven't logged in for months. I continue to peruse their newsfeed, however. It often has decent information and links.
ferine: (screech owl tribal)
ferine: (werewolf)
(all lyrics written 1992 by Jacob Williamson)

I'm Dreaming of a White Werewolf
(Sung to the tune of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas")

The Pack's arriving, the moon is high,
The Alpha male's come to play,
but why do I have to stay
With ebony, tan or grey?
Though many fine wolves are near,
There's but one werewolf I want here...

I'm dreaming of a white werewolf,
Just like the one I used to know--
With fur, soft and pale,
A proud, noble tail,
And eyes with a strange blue glow...

I'm dreaming of a white werewolf,
With every passing full moon night.
Though the pack hierarchy is tight,
May the pelt of the next lone wolf
Be white.

Lobo, The Werewolf
(Sung to the tune of "Frosty, the Snowman")

Lobo, the werewolf, was a rabid soul, of late--
With blood-stained paws, and foam-flecked jaws,
And two eyes that burned with hate.
Lobo, the werewolf, was an old wive's tale, they said--
But the children knew, as did those two
Who would later turn up dead.
Their final hope might have lain in
That silver chain they found...
But those two schmucks put it round his neck,
Then their heads rolled on the ground.
Oh, Lobo, the werewolf, felt a pain of a high grade,
But he couldn't grasp that silver clasp--
It was lodged behind his shoulder blade.
He rampaged through the sleepy town,
Mauling shop after shop, And he only paused a moment to
Dismember a traffic cop.
Oh, Lobo, the werewolf, could have crushed the town that day--
But the townfolk hired a masked guy from
The Lone Ranger one-act play.
Oh, Thump.
(That's it, really. Once the protagonist hits the ground with a thump, you can't go much further, from a poetry point-of-view, can you?)

God Rest ye Merry, Lycanthropes
Sung to the tune of "God rest ye Merry, Gentlemen")

God rest ye merry, lycanthropes
Let nothing bother you--
Remember that the wolvesbane all
Died out in '42.
The werewolf hunter's stuck at home,
Suffering with the flu--


The world is yours,
When the full moon rises high,
Rises high,
The world's yours when the full moon rises high.

Electrum came in vogue last year--
The silver's almost gone.
The only blessed weapons are on Hock at E-Z Pawn.
In short, there's nothing here to stop
A lycanthropic throng,


Half of mankind is infected--
Werecreatures. One and all.
The rest are used for excercise,
Or mounted to a wall.
It might be fun to sit and watch
Civilization fall


Maybe together humans and
Werewolves could play and run,
Without strife and hostility,
Relating one-on-one.
Living together, happily,
But dammit, that's not fun!


Have Yourself a Slightly Furry Christmas
(Sung to the tune of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas")

Have yourself a slightly furry Christmas,
Let the Moon shine in.
Just make sure you don't
Commit a mortal sin...
Hands extend and turn into paws,
Breaking Nature's laws,
You see

Profound thoughts are revealed quite soon,
Under a full moon,
Running Santa up
A tree...

Chasing off the little
Avon lady
With a rumbling growl.
Joining with your family in a rising howl,
And have Yourself A Slightly furry Christmas,

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
(Sung to the tune of--what else? "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear")

It came upon a midnight clear,
Form framed against the sky,
With glist'ning teeth and dark grey fur,
Perhaps seven feet high.
All of the shepherds rose to see--
Its howls brough them from sleep.
What could we do but stand and watch?
It left with seven sheep.

Days passed, numbering twenty-eight,
We'd not seen that beast since,
Nothing's poorer than shepherds, but
Those sheep belonged to the prince.
And now, we sleep, the night seems safe,
Four weeks since it last came,
And Joe stands guard over the flock,
Watching the bonfire's flame.

And then, of course, the beast came back,
Perhaps some lamb to take.
The sheep stampeded in a herd,
Leaving Joe in their wake.
Not quite a mastiff, almost man,
Fur pelt from head to toe,
Leaving us without sheep or guard--
The huge thing borrowed Joe.

It's been a month since that beast came,
A month since we lost Joe,
But I heard two things howl last night,
I've no sheep left to go. I think that I'll not stay, although
There's nothing shepherds fear--
The prince has asked for his sheep back--
I hear Rome's nice this year...

Oh, Little Town of Lycanthropes
(Sung to the tune of "Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem")

Oh, little town of lycanthropes,
Peculiar to mine eye,
For it is bright, this Christmas night,
A full moon in the sky.
There are no merchants vending--
Wherever did they hide?
Perhaps, in fright,
They ran from sight,
And now they're stuck inside?

In truth, there are no merchants,
In this small village fair,
When these folks meet,
They're on four feet,
All covered in wolf hair.
Every man and woman,
Each little boy of two,
Would well and soon spend each full moon
Hunting for caribou.

How silently, how silently,
Timber wolves stalk the town,
And santa's deer have much to fear,
The moment they touch down.
Humans turn and run, when
They meet wolves in the wood,
It must be seen--
Werewolves aren't mean,
They're just misunderstood.

Under a mighty pine tree,
The hunted and the few,
Wolves young and old, quite damp and cold,
The elder and the new.
Why would any werewolf
Stand out there in the sod?
Just to give voice,
With howls rejoice,
In the birth of God.
ferine: (Yule)
© Copyright 2005-2009 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.

Many Christmas customs and much of our Christmas music of any antiquity originated in the Western European Pagan celebrations of Yule. Customs attached to the Yuletide constellation of Saints' Days: Stephen, Basil, Nicholas, Lucia, Barbara, Sylvester and the Epiphany derive almost entirely from Yule. There is a richness of customs concerning food, fires, plants, animals, wild birds, stars, mummers, music, magic, clothing, angels, social roles, gifts, lights, auguries and so on, endlessly. Imagine the figure of baby Dionysos, newborn of Demeter or Persephone (depending on which myths you read), lying swaddled on a bed of straw in a harvest basket on the threshing floor, his head surrounded by a gold nimbus (halo) looking exactly like the Christ-child in the crèche and evoking the same feelings of love and mystery as does the image of the Baby Jesus born in the stables.

The Winter Solstice is the fire-festival of Yule with its Yule-log saved from the previous year's fire to kindle the flames for the new years's celebrations. To the ancient Egyptians it marked the birth of Osiris. To the ancient Persians it celebrated the birth of Mithras, the all-seeing Sun, god of friendship. The Romans knew it as Saturnalia with its feasting and exchanging of roles of masters and slaves. Whatever the name and outward appearance of its festivities, however, Yule's esoteric meaning stayed the same - it noted the shortest day of the year with emphasis on the fact that from this time until the Summer Solstice, the solar forces, both material and spiritual, would be gaining in strength.

The word Yule can be traced to the ancient Celtic word 'hioul' which means wheel. It is the celebration of the return or rebirth of the Sun god, the Lord of Life, the Child of Promise. The rites are solemn yet filled with joy for they solve the paradox of Death and Rebirth. This festival represents the redemption of the world from death and darkness and is a celebration of hope and joy amidst the barrenness of Winter.

Reverence for trees is a part of the Western European Pagan heritage. The decorating of a tree with lights and the burning of the Yule log have their birth in this reverence. At one time in our ancient history it was felt that the sacrifice of a great tree to insure than life would go on was necessary. The burning of the great Yule log would bring good luck and the returning of life force. The fire was lit from a piece of the previous year's Yule log that had been tended all year and saved for this purpose.

This is the time of the Winter Solstice when the sun reaches the southernmost point in its journey across the sky and appears to remain motionless before beginning to re-ascend northward bringing with it light and the promise of springtime, life and warmth. This is the time for the death of the old god of the year, followed by the Goddess giving birth to the new Sun God. Yule is the time to end the period of darkness that has prevailed during Winter and has brought us into the gloom of barren trees and shortened days. It is the time to cast aside those inner doubts which have bound us and to welcome the growing light which shows us the ways of new beginnings.

This is the time of hope born anew.

Make some wonderful smelling incense to burn during the holidays this year! Here's a traditional Yule Incense recipe that we're sure you'll enjoy making and burning:

Mix together 2 tablespoons dried Pine Needles 1 tablespoon Red Sandalwood Chips 1 tablespoon Cedar chips; add 20 drops Frankincense oil 10 drops Myrrh oil 5 drops Cinnamon oil 5 drops Allspice oil 5 drops Pine essential oil, stir together and finish off by mixing in 2 tablespoons Frankincense Resin. Let your incense mixture 'cure' for a day or two before you burn.

© Copyright 2005-2009 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.
ferine: (Yule)
Perfect for the holiday season!



ferine: (moonlight becomes us)
I'm sure others are familiar with this British web series. It was uploaded three years ago. However, I just discovered it, and it is great!

Watch the following one first; it sets up the whole series:

Then there's 1-6 of The Girl Who Cried Wolf. The following is #1:





ferine: (laughing owl)
This is specifically for Watching, but most of you should appreciate this.

ferine: (dreams)
... that [profile] omegadog showed us awhile ago. I think you'll like it.

ferine: (Default)
"Your distress about life might mean you have been living for the wrong reason, not that you have no reason for living." ~Tom O'Connor

"Respect for ourselves guides our morals; respect for others guides our manners. ~Laurence Sterne

"That's the way things come clear. All of a sudden. And then you realize how obvious they've been all along." ~Madeleine L'Engle
ferine: (Samhain)

ferine: (Samhain)

© Copyright 2005-2009 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.

Samhain (Hallowe'en, Hallomas, Sauin, Samhuinn, Nos Galan Gaoef, Nos Kentan'r Bloaz) is the traditional Celtic New Year's Eve. It is the beginning of the dark period of the year which will gradually give birth to a new sun and new life. It is the beginning of the gestation period for the coming year and of the future. As such, the Horned God must leave the seed of life with the Great Mother for the New Year. This is the last opportunity He will have to perform this greatest of all magicks before He must depart the physical world and so sojourn in the land of spirits and waiting souls. His departure at Samhain is very dramatic and powerful as it opens the gates of the entire netherworld for a brief period thus rendering Samhain a period of awe for all who have the senses to feel it.

Samhain begins the rule of the Lord of Death - the God of change, transformation andthe growth of the soul. He is also the God of rest and sleep.

This is a time to let old habits die and to meditate on who we wish to become. The Winter months are months to muse inward, seeking one's Self. Spend this time in your studies, calm meditations and gentle reverie so that, come spring, you may rise renewed, rejuvenated, fresh and whole.

It is said that on this date, the Celtic God, Saman, judges the souls of those who have left their bodies and decides if they may return to their loved ones for this last evening before making their journey to the Otherworld. Bonfires and solar symbols of all kinds are appropriate for this Sabbat. The carved Jack'o'Lantern pumpkin with its lit candle inside is strongly associated with this season as a solar symbol. The cauldron used as a scrying tool and as a symbol of the regeneration of souls as well as the broom which sweeps away the past are also both appropriate symbols. Pomegranates, nuts, apples and root vegetables are all symbolic of this Sabbat.

Samhain is a time to remember, honor and commune with our ancestors. Their wisdom and lore enriches our lives and gives us clear pathways to follow and emulate. The Dumb Supper is one such tradition which honors them and allows us a brief time to part the veil between worlds to receive information and comfort from those who have made the transition and gone before us. Set a festive table with the favorite foods of those relatives and friends who are no longer in-body. Along with the place settings for the living who will participate in this Dumb Supper, also place plates, silverware and cups for those deceased family members and friends that you are inviting. Name each one and fill their plates with food, their cups with drink. Enjoy a lively conversation full of memories and stories about those people. End by drinking a toast to them and then have a few minutes of silence to receive any information or messages from the other side. At midnight, take their dishes outside under the light of the moon to receive her blessing and scatter the remains of the food the next morning to share with our animal friends.

Divinations are traditional at Samhain to foretell the coming year's energy tides, challenges and gifts. At this time omens and oracles are believed to be the most accurate, as the veil between worlds is so thin. Divining by fire is popular and you can use either a candle flame or a fireplace. If you use a candle, the color purple is a good choice. Light the candle and begin gazing at the flame, quieting your breath and centering your energies and body. Begin playing with the flame mentally, establishing your connection. Make the flame grow taller then flattening it; cause it to wave wildly then quiet it. Once you have your connection, unfocus your eyes slightly, and ask a yes or no question. If the flame grows taller, your answer is yes, if it flattens the answer is no. Using your fireplace allows you to see pictures in the dancing flames that answer you questions. Again quiet your breathing and center yourself. Gaxe into the flames and slightly unfocus your eyes. .Ask your question and watch the flames play with each other as they form pictures and as the embers glow and wink out forms and numbers to give you your answer.

Traditional PUMPKIN BREAD: Mix 1 cup of corn oil, 3 beaten eggs; ¾ cup of water and 2 cups pumpkin (either fresh or canned) until smooth. Add to this liquid 3¾ cups sifted flour; 1 teaspoon salt, 2 teaspoons baking soda; 2½ cups sugar and 1 teaspoon each of cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg and powdered cloves. Fold in 1 cup of chopped walnuts. Bake at 350° in 2 greased and floured loaf pans for 45 minutes to an hour depending on your oven. This keeps very well, but is most delicious fresh out of the oven!

© Copyright 2005-2009 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.

© Copyright 2007 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.

Halloween can sometimes be problematic for Pagans with children. For us, it is one of our most sacred and important holidays, yet we are surrounded by green-faced, cardboard 'witches' hanging over candy displays, plus offensive greeting cards. Story hour at school often involves a scary tale with a 'witch' as a villain and our children receive coloring handouts at school that depict at least one flying, warty 'witch'. It is inappropriate to expect your child to challenge these misrepresentations at school or for you to arrive fuming to confront the teacher or principal. Tempting though it may be to forego public confrontations, the proper response is to deal with these inconsistencies in the privacy of your own home. Tell your children that these images are produced by people who do not really know anything about real Witches and that no hurt or insult is intended. You can also explain how current North American Halloween customs developed in order to show them how other people do celebrate an important holiday with us.

The way I explained it to my daughter is:
Samhain begins the Celtic New Year, the time when 'the veil between the worlds is thin' and we are more sensitive to our inner selves and our psychic senses. Our ancestors who no longer have bodies often return to visit their homes and families at this time and we can communicate with them to help them pass on through to their next life and body, we can learn lessons from them and we can simply enjoy their company. Seasonal celebrations focus on the beginning of the rule of the God, the Lord of the Underworld, and Keeper of the Gates of Death. Our ancestors finished preserving their winter storehouse of food at this time and began the slaughter of animals that would feed them throughout the winter. The types of magick done at this time are for the preservation of our families and friends through the harsh winter months. We also send out energy to protect the wild animals, our winter stores of food and to strengthen the Sun for his rebirth at Yule.

The rest of the United States is celebrating Halloween with costumes and candy - both of which are fun for children. This custom comes from older traditions of our ancestors and is a wholesome way to let your children be a part of the larger community as it celebrates, perhaps unknown to them, a Pagan festival. In addition, here are some suggestions for Samhain celebrations that can include children:

Perform simple divinations for the coming year using the pendulum, scrying or candle flame gazing.
Talk about relatives, pets or friends who have passed on and what we learned from them or enjoyed about them.
Tell stories about ghosts, using the stories to illustrate how children might deal with fears.
Talk about the origin of Halloween customs. Trick or treating goes back to the beginning of the Iron Age when farm dwellers left offerings of milk, cheese or other treats to discourage the forest dwellers from pilfering. Leave some treats outside or in the hearth for the elves and fairy folk in your home. Costume parties developed during the Middle Ages so that on Halloween ('hallow' or holy evening) active ghosts and goblins could not recognize the people inside their homes celebrating the new year and therefore could not bother them. Jack-o'-lanterns developed from the custom of carving out turnips and placing candles in them to prevent the wind from blowing out the flame when people traveled at night using the hollowed out turnip as a lantern.
Make dream pillows for dreams of the coming year: Take a piece of cloth about 6 inches square. Make a mixture of any or all of these herbs/essential oils: Lavender, anise, mugwort, jasmine, white sandalwood, lily of the valley, lilac, chamomile, hops, skullcap and poppy. To prepare the herb/oil mixture, mix 1/4th cup of each of the herbs desired, then begin adding your chosen oils to the center of the dry herbs a few drops at a time. Knead the oils in gently with a spoon until the scent is as strong as you like. If you wish to sew your pillow, fold the cloth in half and sew the long side and one of the short ones. Turn it inside out so that your seams are inside. Stuff the pillow with the herb mixture then finish it off with a slip stitch on the remaining opening. If you prefer not to sew, lay the cloth flat and place the herb mixture in the center. Take two opposing corners and bring them together. Do the same with the remaining two corners. Packing the herbs tightly in the middle, twist the corners up together and bind them with a ribbon. Dream pillows can help children remember dreams, sleep more deeply or ease dreams in the case of children with nightmares.
Maybe it's just because it's my birthday, but to me Halloween/Samhain is one of the most fun holidays of the year. It's serious but fun and rich in lore and practices. Take advantage of all of the fascinating Halloween customs to introduce your children to your spiritual world view and share the magick with them!

© Copyright 2007 Karen Charboneau-Harrison, All Rights Reserved.

ferine: (Artemis)
As we neared the end of our excursion, we found a sacred grove with stone benches and a big stone table that overlooked the river. Surrounding the benches and packed earth were beautiful trees, many old. There was a big bit of old, sun-bleached root-work there that, of course, captivated me. I want to return and get more photos of the area, especially the table. It was like a stereotypical stone sacrificial altar *chuckles*. When I feel a little better I'll do my photo shoot there.
Read more... )
ferine: (Default)
This cluster of trees were enchanting with the lowering sun behind them:
Read more... )

Uh-oh... tree-hole-gasm! Seriously, these just overflow with character and magic to me:
Read more... )

Look, there was even a portable bark hole!
Read more... )

We came across raccoon tracks permanently etched in the cement trail:
Read more... )

Another inviting walking bridge, followed by webs on its rail:
Read more... )

More South Plattitude (har, har):
Read more... )
ferine: (Default)
There was actual sand among the pebbles along the river shore:
Read more... )

A crude fence was erected from driftwood:
Read more... )

Jay said this huge emerald Dragonfly was perched at eye level, eyeballing him curiously:
Read more... )

Snowy Egret:
Read more... )

Belted Kingfisher:
Read more... )

Some beautiful mood shots of the South Platte:
Read more... )

Beneath the walking bridge were muddy banks riddled with critter tracks--especially raccoon:
Read more... )
ferine: (Default)
We diverged at this point, as I couldn't follow the deer-made trail to the water's edge. Jay discovered all sorts of cool stuff down there:
Read more... )

Look at the white butterfly--it blends in with the pale flowers: [EDIT--is that a spider attacking it's wing?]
Read more... )

The weeds, thick grasses, and sinking earth was proving too much of a deterrent so Antonio and I veered off to return to the cement path. The area was awfully pretty:
Read more... )

Can anyone identify these berries?
Read more... )

A Killdeer on the shore:
Read more... )


ferine: (Default)
Sarah B. Chamberlain

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