Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where faeries can wreck a day faster than you can say, "How did that garbage pail get in my way?"
In a previous post we discussed demonic possession of furniture. (See below.) Author and Martin Luther wannabe
Cindy Jacobs notes in her book Deliver Us from Evil
that demons can possess your ottoman, especially if it belonged to someone else first.
Demons belong to the Yahweh pantheon, so we at "The Gods Are Bored" don't worry about them.
Faeries are another matter.
This morning as I began brewing the old cuppa tea, I casually mentioned to the faeries that we will not be able to attend the outstanding Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm
this year. I will be away part of that weekend, and on that Sunday my daughter The Heir has been invited to be the Dancing Bear at a Maypole in honor of the Grateful Dead. (Gosh, I'll have to get some pictures of that.)
Hearing this, the faeries went into bad overdrive. They hid the lemon for my tea. They incited Decibel the Parrot to projectile poop in most dramatic fashion. And then they clogged the toilet so thoroughly that even Mr. Johnson's superior strength with the plunger has not corrected it. They made today's work longer and harder than it needed to be, and now I'm coming down with a cold.
All of this is classic faerie. Unlike demons, they mean no real harm. They're past the stage of leading lovelorn gentlemen off into bogs to drown. Likewise they've given up the bad habit of stealing healthy infants and replacing them with changelings. Nevertheless, they hate to be thwarted and will seek revenge in a thousand snippy little ways.
The only way to set faeries straight is to threaten them. And so I hereby issue this warning to my faeries: "Stop being bad, or else you will be locked in a dresser drawer throughout all upcoming Beltane events!"
You would think something immortal like a faerie would understand the concept of "wait until next year."
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS
Faerie: "The Rebel," original artwork by Seitou.