3, 2, 1. Liftoff! Wait! Where am I Going?
So, in trying to organize my thoughts as to how to write a book on Practical Paganism, I planted stuff in my vegetable garden.
Stop staring. That's a perfectly legitimate way for a Pagan to work.
No, really. We are Dirt-Worshiping Tree-Huggers, after all. If we can have a garden, we invariably do. If we can't, it's pretty common to see plants growing in pots in a Pagan's apartment/condo/cardboard box. Sure, there are some of us who claim they can't grow fungus, much less plants. But a lot of us do. Grow plants, I mean. I can't speak for the fungus.
Long story short: I got most of my garden plants in yesterday. I've yet to tackle sewing seeds, but I'm hoping I can do that later today. With the strong arms of the Wonder Hubby to help and based upon the results of my soil testing kit, we added the necessary organic ingredients to the soil (we've only been working this bed about 4 years; considering that we started with clay, it's doing much better, but it still needs a little boost. My goal is to eventually have a garden bed that only requires compost to do its thing.), hoed like insane people and then, after the Wonder decided he was broken for the day, I set the plants in their places. I did my usual: Dug them deep holes, set them in firmly, surrounded them by the good earth, gave them a hearty pep talk and watered thoroughly. I think they'll do pretty well if the All-mother doesn't decide that we need another summer of an open furnace.
What has this to do with writing? Quite a lot, really. Although tempted to try the Hunter S. Thompson approach (just dive in and start drowning -- minus the drugs, thanks), I realize that writing a coherent book will require some prep work, establishing the right conditions, obtaining the necessary information and providing adequate fertilizer. Oh yeah, and deciding what to put in the garden, er, book in the first place.
So, I'm thinking that, just as I decided what I wanted to grow, I'm going to start with what a Pagan is. At least, my definition. There's actually very little consensus in The Craft itself. But then, as Ternon, a dear much-missed friend and Pagan Priest, once said, "If we could organize, we'd be Methodists."
Tomorrow: What is a Pagan to Me.
PS: Go see The Avengers. It is violent, good fun. Do not take babies with you. Get a sitter. It's a polite thing to do.
OH, and I thought I should mention this, all my writings, postings, doodles, pictures, pornography, crayon drawings, whatever, posted on my blog are my thoughts, images, delusions, fantasies, etc. I have a dated, hard copy of everything I write. Should someone post any of my shit without my permission or proper attribution, not only will you get to deal with me, I know some seriously heavy spells. And a lawyer. So heed whichever you fear most.
Stop staring. That's a perfectly legitimate way for a Pagan to work.
No, really. We are Dirt-Worshiping Tree-Huggers, after all. If we can have a garden, we invariably do. If we can't, it's pretty common to see plants growing in pots in a Pagan's apartment/condo/cardboard box. Sure, there are some of us who claim they can't grow fungus, much less plants. But a lot of us do. Grow plants, I mean. I can't speak for the fungus.
Long story short: I got most of my garden plants in yesterday. I've yet to tackle sewing seeds, but I'm hoping I can do that later today. With the strong arms of the Wonder Hubby to help and based upon the results of my soil testing kit, we added the necessary organic ingredients to the soil (we've only been working this bed about 4 years; considering that we started with clay, it's doing much better, but it still needs a little boost. My goal is to eventually have a garden bed that only requires compost to do its thing.), hoed like insane people and then, after the Wonder decided he was broken for the day, I set the plants in their places. I did my usual: Dug them deep holes, set them in firmly, surrounded them by the good earth, gave them a hearty pep talk and watered thoroughly. I think they'll do pretty well if the All-mother doesn't decide that we need another summer of an open furnace.
What has this to do with writing? Quite a lot, really. Although tempted to try the Hunter S. Thompson approach (just dive in and start drowning -- minus the drugs, thanks), I realize that writing a coherent book will require some prep work, establishing the right conditions, obtaining the necessary information and providing adequate fertilizer. Oh yeah, and deciding what to put in the garden, er, book in the first place.
So, I'm thinking that, just as I decided what I wanted to grow, I'm going to start with what a Pagan is. At least, my definition. There's actually very little consensus in The Craft itself. But then, as Ternon, a dear much-missed friend and Pagan Priest, once said, "If we could organize, we'd be Methodists."
Tomorrow: What is a Pagan to Me.
PS: Go see The Avengers. It is violent, good fun. Do not take babies with you. Get a sitter. It's a polite thing to do.
OH, and I thought I should mention this, all my writings, postings, doodles, pictures, pornography, crayon drawings, whatever, posted on my blog are my thoughts, images, delusions, fantasies, etc. I have a dated, hard copy of everything I write. Should someone post any of my shit without my permission or proper attribution, not only will you get to deal with me, I know some seriously heavy spells. And a lawyer. So heed whichever you fear most.