A Rainbow Will Begin at Our Feet
o/` "t's never gonna be
Normal, you and me
What you're signing on for
Is a storm at sea
"So if you think you're tough
Give me all your love
And I'll give you every little piece of me o/`
-- "The Pageant of the Bizarre" performed by Zero 7
I'll update this (it's stickied) as I have more time and more photos or inked portraits. For now, this will do.
I figured it's about time to write something which gives readers a basic overview of the grand and lovely poly-mess we call a family. First of all, in case you didn't catch it: the lot of us are polyamorous. The word, from the ancient Greek, means "many loves". If you're hoping for the sordid details of sexual gymnastics involving multiple partners or looking for a peek into the seamy underbelly of lying, cheating, back stabbing relationships then you've not only completely gotten the wrong idea but you've also walked in on the wrong family! Love forms different connections, the intensity of which varies between the various people involved. Suffice it to say that we're dedicated to one another and our children. Oh, you're worried about the children? You shouldn't be; aside from the fact that it's really none of your business (we will never tell you how to take care of your family and I hope you will be courteous enough to do the same for us) being polyamorous (not to mention by virtue of that connection being part of a large clan of French Cajuns from Louisiana, which I will talk more about in a moment) means that those children never lack for a loving adult or any one of many traditional and non-traditional role models. The nuclear family simply doesn't work for us and so we simply don't try approximating it.
Where possible, I have provided recent photographs. For some family members owing to security concerns (please read my profile or continue reading if you desire further explanation) that simply isn't possible. I am allowed by diagenou's employer to post court reporter-style sketches of him, the men assigned for our protection, and his children. These, of course, do not completely resemble the persons whom they are intended to represent but they bear sufficient resemblance to give the reader a visual image to go with descriptions when I talk about them. Some photographs have anthropomorphic portraits with them; these family members engage therianthropy (a set of shamanistic practices in which the individual involved believes him or herself to have the soul of an animal). If you didn't catch that either from the public entries, I'll elaborate: we're a multi-belief household when it comes to religion. Some folk are agnostic or atheist, some are Catholic, some practice various forms of Neopaganism, and some have eclectic practices. We're tolerant as long as you can be the same --- no conversions, no derisive attitudes, and we'll get along just fine.
One final note: this is not a multiple system. Each of these people exists in his or her own right as an individual human being present in this reality. Please treat me accordingly. While I do have friends with multiplicity, I am not myself a multiple and there is no 'system' or 'main body' in control here. You're stuck with me, the de facto matriarch of this happily dysfunctional little clan. Some family members do have their own journals and I will list those with their portraits and descriptions but most of them aren't as social as I am. I will generally add someone after getting to know the person a bit and assuring myself that the person in question will not hurt me or my family in any way or otherwise go crazy.
Persona au Gratin
Yes, it's a cheesy pun...but then this is a family who loves both cheese and word play. Deal with it.
Sketches were done by our own Dorie, pshaw_raven
Diagenou Marouche (diagenou): Family calls him Dee; most of the folks from work call him by his last name only. I don't think he would say he has many (any?) friends. My SO works for the federal government as a behavioral analyst; his primary specialty is adult crimes but he's occasionally called upon to deal with crimes against minors because of the ferocity with which he pursues the case and his compassion for the victims. Dee and I have known each other about thirty years. I met him when I was ten years old and he was fifteen; my Pa, who served in the army, had been stationed in what was then West Germany. We both attended the same Department of Defense boarding school but Dee had more freedom and privileges since his father served in the diplomatic ranks. He was my first crush, my first love, and the sole reason I survived my experiences there. When my father died, we lost touch for several years and then I met him again on a band trip to the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs where he was enrolled. We corresponded until I married my first husband, an abusive man who ordered all contact be cut. We met again several years ago under less than ideal circumstances, patched things up, and have been together ever since.
Dee comes from a prominent French Cajun family in Louisiana whose primary holdings stretch from Thibideaux to Cut Off. He's a less-than-devout Catholic: we attend Easter and Christmas Mass and sometimes other masses, usually at the basilica in St. Augustine because he likes the privilege of attending church at the United States' oldest. The work he does gives him a cynical edge which cuts until you get to know him; then the wry humor and dry irony I fell in love with shines through. He's good with children and animals but liable to burst out in blistering four letter descriptions when faced with willful ignorance or human stupidity. Since he was shot in the line of duty two years ago, he's been semi-retired but recently regained enough health to pass his physical and his firearms qualifications so that he could return to work full time.
Isadora Raven (pshaw_raven): We call her Dorie but yes...she does have another name which is currently her legal one. When she worked for the HUD we had to use a pseudonym whenever I mentioned her because our relationship might have cost her the job and she needed it. Later, I found out she actually hates her given name. Eventually it will be legally changed so she can be our Dorie in fact but for now...we're waiting on divorce papers and it could be a long wait.
Dorie is Dee's half sister (they share a father). Dorie's biological mother became pregnant while still a teen and then left with the baby to live with her parents in Tennessee. Dorie was raised by her maternal grandparents, who considered themselves too old to parent another child and who, in their efforts to ensure that she did not turn out like her mother, severely damaged her self esteem. Dee and Dorie did not find one another until they were adults; when Dee's father died, the existence of the child and her subsequent adoption by her maternal grandparents was revealed in a set of legal correspondences locked in a safe deposit box. Dee spent a considerable amount of time and money finding her. Dorie, meanwhile, had been married to a man nearly twice her age who further abused her verbally and psychologically.
I met Dorie through a mutual interest in the anthropomorphic fandom. A mutual friend introduced us and we discovered a strong attraction between us (I admit it --- I wanted to make love to her the first time I saw her sitting on the double bed in our hotel!). Over the years she has become my lover, my girlfriend, my best friend, my heart's match, my soul's companion. Two years ago, while I was still in hospital recovering from surgery, Dee came to visit and revealed his worry about her sanity. Believing Dorie might actually kill herself if something wasn't done, my husband and I returned to Louisiana with her brother, packed up her things in our pick-up and a UHaul, and then brought her home to live with us.
She meshes an eclectic blend of Buddhism, New Orleans Voodoo, bayou folklore, pagan practices, and healthy skepticism. Her totem is the raven. Any or all of these influences, along with a quirky and occasionally dark sense of humor, might find their way into her artwork. She likes her comforts: good wine, good company, good books...and all the spray paint you can press upon her. Trips to the hardware store often become impromptu art supply hauls. Don't shake hands with her! You just might find yourself covered with some sort of industrial adhesive and involuntarily one half of a very embarrassing conversation with the product hot line.
Dorie is my co-wife; I share my husband with her in all areas which you might expect for any traditional marriage save for it being a commitment of choice; we cannot, of course, marry her legally or we would have. I might be the blabbermouth for the family, but she's the true heart of our home. Dorie sees to the comfort and wellbeing of everyone from plants to pets. Without her we would all be hungry, dirty, and lonely.
Mr. Shapeshifter (simtra): My lawfully wedded husband of twelve years at the end of November this year. Quite an accomplishment when the odds are currently against most marriages making it past the seventh year and quite a few don't even last that long! We met in 1997 through the anthropomorphic fandom. A mutual acquaintance introduced us and we began conversing via the 'net. Our mutual friend, with whom I was sharing an apartment, had a wedding to attend in the Orlando area and we couldn't afford a hotel. Generous and gentle soul that he is, Mr. Shapeshifter invited us to stay with him in his apartment in Jacksonville. He'd told me he was a computer programmer for a large company which handled better known companies' employee health benefits and I pictured him as a mild mannered, harmless balding businessman. Meanwhile, I left nothing to the imagination; he knew he was getting a fat, dumpy, stubborn, loudmouthed redhead.
Imagine my surprise at being met by a slender, barefoot boy-child in shorts and a tee shirt! Love at first sight is rarely romantic. My first thought, since I didn't know just how important he was to his employers, was, "This poor kid is going to have to eat ramen for months to pay for all the activities we've planned!" His thought: "Oh, wow, she really is fat. I hope she doesn't break the couch." (I did, but that was later, and I had some help.) Since I wasn't invited to the wedding as a guest --- I was only present because my roommate needed my vehicle and no other drivers were authorized --- I didn't exactly have many assets or resources. Mr. Shapeshifter paid my entry into all the theme parks, took me to dinner, and paid for my other meals. My roommate, who was best man at the wedding, had other things to occupy him and so Mr. Shapeshifter (also not invited) and I had plenty of time to talk. He promised to come see me in September.
He did so, though under vastly different circumstances than I would have liked. I was literally dying by the time he told work to shove it, hopped on the next flight, and came up to Massachusetts to rescue me. Next thing I know, I'm on a plane to Florida. The rest, as they say, is history. We've had a grand total of fifteen wonderful years together and I hope for many more.
A lapsed Catholic, Mr. Shapeshifter identifies himself as agnostic but still retains many of the Catholic values and morals with which he grew up. He treats Dorie as a second wife and Dee as a good friend.
Kitty: Friends and family call me Kitty; most others know me as Fran or Walker and a few old pagan friends still remember me as TygerMoon Foxx. Yes, the red hair is natural --- not one single damned bit of dye applied to it, ever. I do use henna on it to brighten it up because the chemotherapy causes it to have a limp, greasy, dark purple tint which I hate. Yes, the wave is also natural; if I were, for some insane reason, to cut it short I would have quarter inch long ringlets. At one point in the not-too-distant past, I was far more active than I am now and therefore a little less heavy. It started with a game of chase with a puppy and a bad landing on the other side of a two foot wide, one foot long ditch. I complained about the pain in my hips and back, but when you're already fat you don't often get good medical attention. I used a cane for as long as I could get away with it and then reluctantly traded it for a pair of crutches. Finally, in 2009, I admitted defeat and asked my primary care physician to evaluate me for a wheelchair. I demanded a manual one so that I could still get around by myself but the wear and tear on my joints proved too much. I now use a power chair for day trips and long distances, but I can still stand for a few minutes and I can walk very short distances. The house isn't handicapped accessible and, since it's a manufactured home, it isn't likely to ever be completely accessible without a renovation which would cost more than the entire place is worth. We make do. See? This is where having more than one partner comes in handy. I'm never alone and there is always someone to help. Thanks to Dee and Dorie, Mr. Shapeshifter never had to make the painful decision we were discussing: removing me from my beloved home and putting me in a hospice because he could no longer care for me by himself and could not leave me in the house unattended.
Unless you've been asleep at the computer monitor, you've already figured out that I'm broken in multiple places and on multiple levels. I take well over twenty medications in order to keep me alive and functional and I'm undergoing a chemotherapy regimen for autoimmune issues.. I'm okay with that, are you? It doesn't stop me from living my life to the fullest extent possible, enjoying the little things, and savoring each day I'm given. On a good day, I'm able to sit at the big computer in my office. This allows me to work on my various web projects and writings as well as visit with distant friends and family. On bad days, I don't get out of bed; I spend the day tucked under the blankets with my legs elevated alternating between reading, poking the iPad, and watching the world go by outside my window. (Did I mention that I have one of the best views in the household? It looks straight out over the deck into the forest and I see the moon rise and set every night if I decide to do so!) On really bad days, I'm unconscious (those days are hopefully few and far between). On really good days, I'm out in the yard or the garden or jaunting about the surrounding counties geocaching and hunting antiques.
I'm a Georgian priestess, initiated to the third degree, and our family (the adults, anyway --- I don't teach minors) constitutes a provisional learning coven. I learned frontier remedies and southwestern herbs while growing up in the Four Corners area of Colorado; I learned southern and bayou remedies from Ygraine, Dee's significant other. Most of the gods and goddesses to whom I've been called deal in healing and its opposite, the death process. It's my job to heal what I can, to comfort those who remain behind, and to make the loved one's transition as easy as possible when asked to do so. I was granted through sacred circumstances which I prefer not to share not one but two totems: coyote and cougar. These two animals have been with me for most of my life and will probably follow me into death. I have other relationships and associations with animals but these two alone have remained consistently by my side.
Alexa "Lix" Marouche: Lix, as she prefers to be called, is Dee's youngest full sister. The fact that she was Illyria's last child and that there's almost a thirty year gap between the two of them may explain the hard life she's had. Although she's biologically sixteen years old, Lix's personality and emotional development more closely approximates that of an eleven or twelve year old girl. Lix and Dee's father died soon after she was born and her mother simply could not cope with a baby on her own. A proud woman, she refused all help the family offered. Lix grew up emotionally starved, neglected, and isolated. Until Dee and his brother attained joint custody two years ago, Lix had spent most of her life in a single set of rooms in the old house under the watchful eye of a 'tutor' who periodically molested her.
Now she divides her time between living here and with her uncle Callistus in New Orleans. Lix exhibits the characteristics of a child with oppositional defiant disorder and has received a diagnosis from a qualified professional to that effect. She also has signs of disinhibited attachment disorder, which means she has a tendency to interact in an inappropriate manner with complete strangers and that this behavior often has a sexual component. Because of these issues, we have elected to home school her. At this time, we --- those who parent her --- simply do not feel that she would fare well in the standard public school system nor would she adapt or accept the more rigid structure of a private school system. She's progressing well with therapy and we're hopeful that maybe next year she can attend the public high school part time.
Disabilities and disadvantages aside, Lix is a loving child with a sharp mind. Mechanical items and the inner workings of nature and ecology fascinate her equally. She reads avidly, though we have not yet been able to convince her that sometimes she needs to read things which do not specifically interest her. She loves her cousins and will take good care of them though we have elected not to leave her with them unsupervised. Lix is really good with animals and it's not unusual to find her outside surrounded by all manner of wild things (the deer here will eat out of her --- and only her --- hands and the humming birds will also take nectar from her). I think that, given this loving environment, she'll eventually begin to heal and will be able to enter the adult world as a productive and healthy member of society.
Callistus Marouche: Dee and Callistus were raised as brothers since they were only a few months apart in age after Callistus' parents both died in an accident. He strongly resembles Illyria --- Dee is a throwback, more representative of his father who had the same flaming red hair and pale complexion --- with his curly dark hair, amber eyes, and olive complexion made darker by the long hours he spends in the sun. The two are complete opposites: Callistus enjoys socializing and loves nothing better than a good party with lots of food and wine. Until he got married recently, he was also somewhat of a womanizer. I'd imagine half the brothels between New Orleans and Nevada are missing his patronage!
Callistus works for the Corps of Engineers and his primary duties concern keeping the city of New Orleans and its outlying suburbs above water. You'd be wise never to get him started when it comes to what happened during Katrina; not only will you not be able to shut him up, you'll also be treated to everything you never wanted to know about the internal political workings of state and federal government. Mention FEMA and he just might have a stroke! In his spare time, he's fond of tinkering with household appliances or building gadgets of his own. Unfortunately, these often literally blow up. Callistus, as I have mentioned, really enjoys his food but we have banned him from the kitchen. Not only can he not cook, but he tends to make the most awful messes and even worse food. If it doesn't eat through the cookware, it's just as likely to send the unfortunate dinner guests to the ER with food poisoning.
The boys are very close and when Callistus visits, you can be assured that there will be a continual good natured verbal shit storm interspersed with boyish pranks and outright immature conversations. I don't know that he brings out the best in Dee, but at least Callistus has a calming influence which allows De to relax and unwind a bit.
Illyria Marouche: She can be rather difficult to deal with, and that's putting it politely. Fiercely protective of her family and its assets, she often comes across as coniving, manipulative, and cold hearted. Illyria lost her husband Leshan soon after Lix's birth. She genuinely loved the man and failed to cope with the devastating loss and the addition of a new infant. I try very hard, for Dee's sake, not to hold the manner with which she dealt with her youngest child against her. Illyria does possess amazing organizational skills and in a crisis she's the one you want at your side. Usually she and the brothers are engaged in knock down, drag out arguments about everything from dinner menus to medical treatments but she does love her children and she's particularly fond of Dee, though she has a strange way of showing it sometimes.
She spends most of her time in Thibideaux, where what remains of the family plantation is located (a rather large antebellum mansion, several outbuildings, and acre upon acre of sugar cane, in case you're curious). The maintenance of the family fish camp is left to the boys and their wives, as Illyria refuses to do without her little luxuries. As I mentioned, she's very cunning with finances and the plantation turns a profit every year. Illyria invests those earnings in such a manner that the family will always be provided for and the remainder she distributes to charitable projects throughout the area. Unlike her sons, Illyria is a devout Catholic.
Illyria is the plague of my life and drives me stark raving crazy, but I've come to feel compassion for the terrible hardships she's endured and I've gotten rather fond of her. The same cannot exactly be said of her feelings for me; she would, of course, rather that Dee had married a suitable Cajun woman whose body was whole and who could have given him children. Even so, she respects me for his sake. That's about all I can ask, given the terrible luck I have with in-laws.
Normal, you and me
What you're signing on for
Is a storm at sea
"So if you think you're tough
Give me all your love
And I'll give you every little piece of me o/`
-- "The Pageant of the Bizarre" performed by Zero 7
I'll update this (it's stickied) as I have more time and more photos or inked portraits. For now, this will do.
I figured it's about time to write something which gives readers a basic overview of the grand and lovely poly-mess we call a family. First of all, in case you didn't catch it: the lot of us are polyamorous. The word, from the ancient Greek, means "many loves". If you're hoping for the sordid details of sexual gymnastics involving multiple partners or looking for a peek into the seamy underbelly of lying, cheating, back stabbing relationships then you've not only completely gotten the wrong idea but you've also walked in on the wrong family! Love forms different connections, the intensity of which varies between the various people involved. Suffice it to say that we're dedicated to one another and our children. Oh, you're worried about the children? You shouldn't be; aside from the fact that it's really none of your business (we will never tell you how to take care of your family and I hope you will be courteous enough to do the same for us) being polyamorous (not to mention by virtue of that connection being part of a large clan of French Cajuns from Louisiana, which I will talk more about in a moment) means that those children never lack for a loving adult or any one of many traditional and non-traditional role models. The nuclear family simply doesn't work for us and so we simply don't try approximating it.
Where possible, I have provided recent photographs. For some family members owing to security concerns (please read my profile or continue reading if you desire further explanation) that simply isn't possible. I am allowed by diagenou's employer to post court reporter-style sketches of him, the men assigned for our protection, and his children. These, of course, do not completely resemble the persons whom they are intended to represent but they bear sufficient resemblance to give the reader a visual image to go with descriptions when I talk about them. Some photographs have anthropomorphic portraits with them; these family members engage therianthropy (a set of shamanistic practices in which the individual involved believes him or herself to have the soul of an animal). If you didn't catch that either from the public entries, I'll elaborate: we're a multi-belief household when it comes to religion. Some folk are agnostic or atheist, some are Catholic, some practice various forms of Neopaganism, and some have eclectic practices. We're tolerant as long as you can be the same --- no conversions, no derisive attitudes, and we'll get along just fine.
One final note: this is not a multiple system. Each of these people exists in his or her own right as an individual human being present in this reality. Please treat me accordingly. While I do have friends with multiplicity, I am not myself a multiple and there is no 'system' or 'main body' in control here. You're stuck with me, the de facto matriarch of this happily dysfunctional little clan. Some family members do have their own journals and I will list those with their portraits and descriptions but most of them aren't as social as I am. I will generally add someone after getting to know the person a bit and assuring myself that the person in question will not hurt me or my family in any way or otherwise go crazy.
Persona au Gratin
Yes, it's a cheesy pun...but then this is a family who loves both cheese and word play. Deal with it.
Sketches were done by our own Dorie, pshaw_raven
Diagenou Marouche (diagenou): Family calls him Dee; most of the folks from work call him by his last name only. I don't think he would say he has many (any?) friends. My SO works for the federal government as a behavioral analyst; his primary specialty is adult crimes but he's occasionally called upon to deal with crimes against minors because of the ferocity with which he pursues the case and his compassion for the victims. Dee and I have known each other about thirty years. I met him when I was ten years old and he was fifteen; my Pa, who served in the army, had been stationed in what was then West Germany. We both attended the same Department of Defense boarding school but Dee had more freedom and privileges since his father served in the diplomatic ranks. He was my first crush, my first love, and the sole reason I survived my experiences there. When my father died, we lost touch for several years and then I met him again on a band trip to the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs where he was enrolled. We corresponded until I married my first husband, an abusive man who ordered all contact be cut. We met again several years ago under less than ideal circumstances, patched things up, and have been together ever since.
Dee comes from a prominent French Cajun family in Louisiana whose primary holdings stretch from Thibideaux to Cut Off. He's a less-than-devout Catholic: we attend Easter and Christmas Mass and sometimes other masses, usually at the basilica in St. Augustine because he likes the privilege of attending church at the United States' oldest. The work he does gives him a cynical edge which cuts until you get to know him; then the wry humor and dry irony I fell in love with shines through. He's good with children and animals but liable to burst out in blistering four letter descriptions when faced with willful ignorance or human stupidity. Since he was shot in the line of duty two years ago, he's been semi-retired but recently regained enough health to pass his physical and his firearms qualifications so that he could return to work full time.
Isadora Raven (pshaw_raven): We call her Dorie but yes...she does have another name which is currently her legal one. When she worked for the HUD we had to use a pseudonym whenever I mentioned her because our relationship might have cost her the job and she needed it. Later, I found out she actually hates her given name. Eventually it will be legally changed so she can be our Dorie in fact but for now...we're waiting on divorce papers and it could be a long wait.
Dorie is Dee's half sister (they share a father). Dorie's biological mother became pregnant while still a teen and then left with the baby to live with her parents in Tennessee. Dorie was raised by her maternal grandparents, who considered themselves too old to parent another child and who, in their efforts to ensure that she did not turn out like her mother, severely damaged her self esteem. Dee and Dorie did not find one another until they were adults; when Dee's father died, the existence of the child and her subsequent adoption by her maternal grandparents was revealed in a set of legal correspondences locked in a safe deposit box. Dee spent a considerable amount of time and money finding her. Dorie, meanwhile, had been married to a man nearly twice her age who further abused her verbally and psychologically.
I met Dorie through a mutual interest in the anthropomorphic fandom. A mutual friend introduced us and we discovered a strong attraction between us (I admit it --- I wanted to make love to her the first time I saw her sitting on the double bed in our hotel!). Over the years she has become my lover, my girlfriend, my best friend, my heart's match, my soul's companion. Two years ago, while I was still in hospital recovering from surgery, Dee came to visit and revealed his worry about her sanity. Believing Dorie might actually kill herself if something wasn't done, my husband and I returned to Louisiana with her brother, packed up her things in our pick-up and a UHaul, and then brought her home to live with us.
She meshes an eclectic blend of Buddhism, New Orleans Voodoo, bayou folklore, pagan practices, and healthy skepticism. Her totem is the raven. Any or all of these influences, along with a quirky and occasionally dark sense of humor, might find their way into her artwork. She likes her comforts: good wine, good company, good books...and all the spray paint you can press upon her. Trips to the hardware store often become impromptu art supply hauls. Don't shake hands with her! You just might find yourself covered with some sort of industrial adhesive and involuntarily one half of a very embarrassing conversation with the product hot line.
Dorie is my co-wife; I share my husband with her in all areas which you might expect for any traditional marriage save for it being a commitment of choice; we cannot, of course, marry her legally or we would have. I might be the blabbermouth for the family, but she's the true heart of our home. Dorie sees to the comfort and wellbeing of everyone from plants to pets. Without her we would all be hungry, dirty, and lonely.
Mr. Shapeshifter (simtra): My lawfully wedded husband of twelve years at the end of November this year. Quite an accomplishment when the odds are currently against most marriages making it past the seventh year and quite a few don't even last that long! We met in 1997 through the anthropomorphic fandom. A mutual acquaintance introduced us and we began conversing via the 'net. Our mutual friend, with whom I was sharing an apartment, had a wedding to attend in the Orlando area and we couldn't afford a hotel. Generous and gentle soul that he is, Mr. Shapeshifter invited us to stay with him in his apartment in Jacksonville. He'd told me he was a computer programmer for a large company which handled better known companies' employee health benefits and I pictured him as a mild mannered, harmless balding businessman. Meanwhile, I left nothing to the imagination; he knew he was getting a fat, dumpy, stubborn, loudmouthed redhead.
Imagine my surprise at being met by a slender, barefoot boy-child in shorts and a tee shirt! Love at first sight is rarely romantic. My first thought, since I didn't know just how important he was to his employers, was, "This poor kid is going to have to eat ramen for months to pay for all the activities we've planned!" His thought: "Oh, wow, she really is fat. I hope she doesn't break the couch." (I did, but that was later, and I had some help.) Since I wasn't invited to the wedding as a guest --- I was only present because my roommate needed my vehicle and no other drivers were authorized --- I didn't exactly have many assets or resources. Mr. Shapeshifter paid my entry into all the theme parks, took me to dinner, and paid for my other meals. My roommate, who was best man at the wedding, had other things to occupy him and so Mr. Shapeshifter (also not invited) and I had plenty of time to talk. He promised to come see me in September.
He did so, though under vastly different circumstances than I would have liked. I was literally dying by the time he told work to shove it, hopped on the next flight, and came up to Massachusetts to rescue me. Next thing I know, I'm on a plane to Florida. The rest, as they say, is history. We've had a grand total of fifteen wonderful years together and I hope for many more.
A lapsed Catholic, Mr. Shapeshifter identifies himself as agnostic but still retains many of the Catholic values and morals with which he grew up. He treats Dorie as a second wife and Dee as a good friend.
Kitty: Friends and family call me Kitty; most others know me as Fran or Walker and a few old pagan friends still remember me as TygerMoon Foxx. Yes, the red hair is natural --- not one single damned bit of dye applied to it, ever. I do use henna on it to brighten it up because the chemotherapy causes it to have a limp, greasy, dark purple tint which I hate. Yes, the wave is also natural; if I were, for some insane reason, to cut it short I would have quarter inch long ringlets. At one point in the not-too-distant past, I was far more active than I am now and therefore a little less heavy. It started with a game of chase with a puppy and a bad landing on the other side of a two foot wide, one foot long ditch. I complained about the pain in my hips and back, but when you're already fat you don't often get good medical attention. I used a cane for as long as I could get away with it and then reluctantly traded it for a pair of crutches. Finally, in 2009, I admitted defeat and asked my primary care physician to evaluate me for a wheelchair. I demanded a manual one so that I could still get around by myself but the wear and tear on my joints proved too much. I now use a power chair for day trips and long distances, but I can still stand for a few minutes and I can walk very short distances. The house isn't handicapped accessible and, since it's a manufactured home, it isn't likely to ever be completely accessible without a renovation which would cost more than the entire place is worth. We make do. See? This is where having more than one partner comes in handy. I'm never alone and there is always someone to help. Thanks to Dee and Dorie, Mr. Shapeshifter never had to make the painful decision we were discussing: removing me from my beloved home and putting me in a hospice because he could no longer care for me by himself and could not leave me in the house unattended.
Unless you've been asleep at the computer monitor, you've already figured out that I'm broken in multiple places and on multiple levels. I take well over twenty medications in order to keep me alive and functional and I'm undergoing a chemotherapy regimen for autoimmune issues.. I'm okay with that, are you? It doesn't stop me from living my life to the fullest extent possible, enjoying the little things, and savoring each day I'm given. On a good day, I'm able to sit at the big computer in my office. This allows me to work on my various web projects and writings as well as visit with distant friends and family. On bad days, I don't get out of bed; I spend the day tucked under the blankets with my legs elevated alternating between reading, poking the iPad, and watching the world go by outside my window. (Did I mention that I have one of the best views in the household? It looks straight out over the deck into the forest and I see the moon rise and set every night if I decide to do so!) On really bad days, I'm unconscious (those days are hopefully few and far between). On really good days, I'm out in the yard or the garden or jaunting about the surrounding counties geocaching and hunting antiques.
I'm a Georgian priestess, initiated to the third degree, and our family (the adults, anyway --- I don't teach minors) constitutes a provisional learning coven. I learned frontier remedies and southwestern herbs while growing up in the Four Corners area of Colorado; I learned southern and bayou remedies from Ygraine, Dee's significant other. Most of the gods and goddesses to whom I've been called deal in healing and its opposite, the death process. It's my job to heal what I can, to comfort those who remain behind, and to make the loved one's transition as easy as possible when asked to do so. I was granted through sacred circumstances which I prefer not to share not one but two totems: coyote and cougar. These two animals have been with me for most of my life and will probably follow me into death. I have other relationships and associations with animals but these two alone have remained consistently by my side.
Alexa "Lix" Marouche: Lix, as she prefers to be called, is Dee's youngest full sister. The fact that she was Illyria's last child and that there's almost a thirty year gap between the two of them may explain the hard life she's had. Although she's biologically sixteen years old, Lix's personality and emotional development more closely approximates that of an eleven or twelve year old girl. Lix and Dee's father died soon after she was born and her mother simply could not cope with a baby on her own. A proud woman, she refused all help the family offered. Lix grew up emotionally starved, neglected, and isolated. Until Dee and his brother attained joint custody two years ago, Lix had spent most of her life in a single set of rooms in the old house under the watchful eye of a 'tutor' who periodically molested her.
Now she divides her time between living here and with her uncle Callistus in New Orleans. Lix exhibits the characteristics of a child with oppositional defiant disorder and has received a diagnosis from a qualified professional to that effect. She also has signs of disinhibited attachment disorder, which means she has a tendency to interact in an inappropriate manner with complete strangers and that this behavior often has a sexual component. Because of these issues, we have elected to home school her. At this time, we --- those who parent her --- simply do not feel that she would fare well in the standard public school system nor would she adapt or accept the more rigid structure of a private school system. She's progressing well with therapy and we're hopeful that maybe next year she can attend the public high school part time.
Disabilities and disadvantages aside, Lix is a loving child with a sharp mind. Mechanical items and the inner workings of nature and ecology fascinate her equally. She reads avidly, though we have not yet been able to convince her that sometimes she needs to read things which do not specifically interest her. She loves her cousins and will take good care of them though we have elected not to leave her with them unsupervised. Lix is really good with animals and it's not unusual to find her outside surrounded by all manner of wild things (the deer here will eat out of her --- and only her --- hands and the humming birds will also take nectar from her). I think that, given this loving environment, she'll eventually begin to heal and will be able to enter the adult world as a productive and healthy member of society.
Callistus Marouche: Dee and Callistus were raised as brothers since they were only a few months apart in age after Callistus' parents both died in an accident. He strongly resembles Illyria --- Dee is a throwback, more representative of his father who had the same flaming red hair and pale complexion --- with his curly dark hair, amber eyes, and olive complexion made darker by the long hours he spends in the sun. The two are complete opposites: Callistus enjoys socializing and loves nothing better than a good party with lots of food and wine. Until he got married recently, he was also somewhat of a womanizer. I'd imagine half the brothels between New Orleans and Nevada are missing his patronage!
Callistus works for the Corps of Engineers and his primary duties concern keeping the city of New Orleans and its outlying suburbs above water. You'd be wise never to get him started when it comes to what happened during Katrina; not only will you not be able to shut him up, you'll also be treated to everything you never wanted to know about the internal political workings of state and federal government. Mention FEMA and he just might have a stroke! In his spare time, he's fond of tinkering with household appliances or building gadgets of his own. Unfortunately, these often literally blow up. Callistus, as I have mentioned, really enjoys his food but we have banned him from the kitchen. Not only can he not cook, but he tends to make the most awful messes and even worse food. If it doesn't eat through the cookware, it's just as likely to send the unfortunate dinner guests to the ER with food poisoning.
The boys are very close and when Callistus visits, you can be assured that there will be a continual good natured verbal shit storm interspersed with boyish pranks and outright immature conversations. I don't know that he brings out the best in Dee, but at least Callistus has a calming influence which allows De to relax and unwind a bit.
Illyria Marouche: She can be rather difficult to deal with, and that's putting it politely. Fiercely protective of her family and its assets, she often comes across as coniving, manipulative, and cold hearted. Illyria lost her husband Leshan soon after Lix's birth. She genuinely loved the man and failed to cope with the devastating loss and the addition of a new infant. I try very hard, for Dee's sake, not to hold the manner with which she dealt with her youngest child against her. Illyria does possess amazing organizational skills and in a crisis she's the one you want at your side. Usually she and the brothers are engaged in knock down, drag out arguments about everything from dinner menus to medical treatments but she does love her children and she's particularly fond of Dee, though she has a strange way of showing it sometimes.
She spends most of her time in Thibideaux, where what remains of the family plantation is located (a rather large antebellum mansion, several outbuildings, and acre upon acre of sugar cane, in case you're curious). The maintenance of the family fish camp is left to the boys and their wives, as Illyria refuses to do without her little luxuries. As I mentioned, she's very cunning with finances and the plantation turns a profit every year. Illyria invests those earnings in such a manner that the family will always be provided for and the remainder she distributes to charitable projects throughout the area. Unlike her sons, Illyria is a devout Catholic.
Illyria is the plague of my life and drives me stark raving crazy, but I've come to feel compassion for the terrible hardships she's endured and I've gotten rather fond of her. The same cannot exactly be said of her feelings for me; she would, of course, rather that Dee had married a suitable Cajun woman whose body was whole and who could have given him children. Even so, she respects me for his sake. That's about all I can ask, given the terrible luck I have with in-laws.