Let me first start this by saying: I had no idea what the fuck I was asking for when I decided to honor my lwa-du-jour: Papa Legba. Up to this point, we had been like ships passing in the night. I would wave and he’d give me a holler. Then he’d grab me and try to drown me in the dark seas surrounding us, laughing while I spluttered and fought back. Then, he’d be off on his merry way while I tried to catch my breath and ignore the sharks hungrily circling around me. And then I’d ask Sekhmet why, why, why and she’d give me an amused smirk before turning around. And then, Papa Legba would wave again, thus starting the big whole process over again.
I. Had. No. Fucking. Idea. What. A. Kid. He. Can. Be.
Yesterday was my first celebration of Mabon, ever. It’s nothing against the whole holiday or any of that, but I just never got around to it. I’m usually in a really big blue funk around this time of year (while paradoxically enjoying the changing of the leaves and the cooling breezes) and that’s as good of an excuse as any.
Up until about twelve hours before I got up yesterday morning, I had no idea what the fuck I was planning for this celebration. I knew that there was going to be some naan bread and stuff. And that was about it. It was only after a bit that I was like, “HEY. I’VE GOT PATRONS THAT NEED TO BE INCLUDED RIGHT??!?!?!” That, my friends, was my first mistake. However, they were both totally down with it. I believe the commentary was “cool, cool; get down with the nature and get down with us; cool, cool” or something to that effect. I was excited: I was planning a celebration by myself, for myself that had to do with fall and Thanksgiving and my patrons. To quote someone: Cool, cool.
I really wanted this whole thing to go off without a hitch. I wanted it to be perfect, which is fucking ridiculous. I am not perfect and I fuck up shit all of the time. It was only after the fact that I was like, “Uh. I don’t have anything to like put these offerings on. And what kind of liquid refreshment is going into this? And, um, shouldn’t I have like a big unscented pillar candle for all of this?” However, I kept my cool. I couldn’t freak out because I was busy cooking, which takes up more than half of my attention span at a given moment (usually since I screw it all up to hell). I made some awesome naan bread and some delicious pecan pie. And although I was not shocked about the naan bread being good, I was more than scintillated when I realized it was not only good but it was fucking AWESOME. Even the Hubby said it was good and he hates nuts, and by default, pies with nuts in them. So. There’s that!
(That pie is fucking awesome. And in writing about it, I now need some…)
So. After all of this stuff, and before the fantastic pie was made, I had to run some errands. I picked up an ivory pillar candle and a throwaway candle holder. It was proving quite difficult to find anything to place these offerings on that wasn’t, you know, the ground. I ended up having to go to the grocery story since I didn’t realize that there were already-made pie crusts and unbaked ones. (WHAT?!?! I DON’T COOK OFTEN.) I went wandering up and down the aisles at the grocery store, just kind of perusing to see if there was some kind of try that I could put the offerings on. This random perusal was instantly noticed by Papa Legba. And as I came into the party supplies aisle, I just about thought he was going to shit a brick.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WE NEED THAT RIGHT NOW. WE NEED IT.” He was pointing in the direction of a small case of toothpick umbrellas for cocktails. I rolled my eyes, but grabbed the package anyway. This shut him up for about twenty seconds. During those twenty seconds, I found a decent tray that I could place things on. And in that time, Papa Legba found… “OH MY GOD. I WANT THOSE MARTINI GLASSES. I MUST HAVE THEM RIGHT NOW. NOW. NOW.” He had found a set of four plastic martini glasses. I wasn’t going to grab them, but he was so insistent (AND OBNOXIOUS) that saying no was not an option. So, I now am the proud owner of four plastic martini glasses as well as a whole pack of umbrella toothpick things.
On the way home, I was informed that alcoholic beverages would be the only way to go when it came to libations. Fine. I had vodka in the fridge, although vanilla flavored. This was heartily rejected by both Papa Legba and Sekhmet. “Nothing flavored,” Sekhmet said in that wise, knowing way that she has. Papa Legba just nodded his head spasmodically in agreement. It looked like I not only had to make my pie, but stop and pick up booze for my patrons.
So, I decided to try out the newest liquor store in my area. I had never been inside and it was purporting to be a “discount” place. I could definitely use a discount. I walked inside and instantly began prowling up and down the aisles. I had my eyes peeled for rum for Hi’self. (He likes the nickname thing.) I finally found the rum section and he began screeching in excitement. The screeching became crowing when he saw the bottle of Black Beard Spiced Rum. Yes, everyone, the reason he chose it was because it had a pirate on it. As well as the fact that the label was red and black. It’s good to know that he can cheap out if needed, though.
Sekhmet was getting jealous at all of this attention.
I went roaming and roaming for something that wasn’t beer for her. I’m fine with the fact that she’s a regular kind of gal and likes beer. However, I can’t sit there and see myself buying cheap shit (Keystone or Busch) or the regular shit (Bud or Coors) for her at all. And never mind any of the specialty beers that they have out. I think she’d rather rip her throat out before being forced to drink that shit. (I don’t blame her… of course, I hate beer.) So, Papa Legba is shouting ideas out at random: “VODKA!” Negative. “WHISKEY!” Gag. “WINE!” Puh. “TEQUILA!” Hm….
That’s right, folks; Sekhmet wanted tequila.
I found the tequila and was immediately drawn to this small bottle with skeletons fighting all over it. There was a giant cock and the label was done artfully. It reminded me of Dia de Los Muertos things. I was also put in mind of most of the Mexican artwork that I have ever liked in my life. Papa Legba was jumping up and down like a rabid kangaroo. As far as he was concerned this bottle was the one. I looked at the price and perused some of the other kinds of tequila, but I kept being drawn back to the Espolòn. It was pricey, but there was something about it that appealed to me, as well as Sekhmet. Sure, Papa Legba was dancing up a storm about it (why he was excited about it is beyond me), but it was for Sekhmet in all honesty. She talked me into it with a purr and a look. How can I say no? She’s The Lady Who Owns My Wallet.
FINALLY. I COULD GET ON WITH THE WHOLE THING.
I ended up going to the Hubby’s parents’ woods. It’s nearby and I have always felt comfortable there.
I remember the first time I saw the land: it was covered in pure, white snow. We were all a little buzzed (this was at a party of the Hubby’s before he was the anything to me). The moonlight was so bright and burning down across the thick crust of the beautiful white snow. Trees overhung the immediate perimeter of the fenced in yard. Down steps that were completely covered in snow was a small sitting area. The benches were painted blue-white in the light of the moon. From that very moment, I’ve had a connection to that place. (I’m surprised I don’t have a picture of it… I’ll have to rectify that at some point…)
I placed my tray at the base of a tree. I’ve always loved this tree. It’s the outermost perimeter of the little sitting area. It’s the perfect place for anything, really. I have intense visions of leaving pillar candles at the base of this tree for all occasions. Three or four, thick with wax and burnt into odd and intriguing shapes… It was perfect. I made sure to walk around the seating area, carving out (literally) a sacred space. In fact, I mumbled about that in a sort of trance-like spell. It was pretty nice.
So, after having lit my candle (thereby making it light enough to kind of see), I pulled out the umbrellas and the martini glasses. Without further ado, I poured the drink. There was an “ahhhhh” of contentment from Papa Legba. There was an amused silence from Sekhmet after I had poured her drink. I had decided that I wasn’t going to partake in these particular offerings. They both respectfully understood my decision and left it at that. Papa Legba did ask for a cigarette since I didn’t get him a cigar. (I’ll rectify that at some point…)
I had four pieces of naan bread and a piece of pie cut in twain. I placed them in front of the tray and arranged them prettily. And then… I just began chatting and ranting. I did some thankfulness and I asked for balance. And then I just… went on and on and on about everything. I went on about my relationships with them and what I hope they end up. And then, I went on about my relationship with the Hubby and all of that. I just chattered and chattered for, like, a half hour. Then, I was interrupted by a rude motherfucker (AKA the Hubby’s little brother) and decided to take my leave.
I cast the naan bread into the woods with the words, “I give back to the earth as she has given unto me.”
I thought that was it.
I don’t know if anyone remembers my project cabinet…? Well, Papa Legba knows all about how I started working on it and then just shunted it aside because of various reasons. And he said, “I don’t want you to shut our glasses and umbrellas away with your herbs. No one will see ’em!” I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and asked for patience. “You should pull it out! And find hinges for it and then put your little stamp things on it, like you wanted. AND THEN. You can split it down the middle for me and Sekhmet!” (He thought it was very magnanimous of him to offer.) And I was just like… REALLY?!?! FUCKING REALLY?!?!?
So, I have to pull out the bookcase/cabinet thing. And then I have to find the gold stamp pad and stars that I like. And then I have to go over the entire thing, inch by inch, putting the stars on there. And then, I have to get hardware for the cabinet that I like (I’m thinking a silver color). AND THEN. I have to get gel pens with sparkles in them (no, this is part of his asking) and start practicing his veve because he wants it drawn on his martini glass.
Papa Legba has come and taken over.