Meeting Emma's Standards -- Sort Of

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," cheating bankruptcy one day at a time! If you, too, are insecure about your future, welcome! We're pretty sure the fat-cat industrialists graze somewhere else.

Please be advised that "The Gods Are Bored" will be offline until Monday, April 9 and will resume at that time.

On Wednesday, April 4 my daughters (The Heir and The Spare) and I will be taking a little road trip. Our destination is the same every time. Let the fat cat kids jet off to Vienna! As for me and my house, we will go to Berkeley Springs. Terrapin Run. And points nearby. Meet and greet us at the Road Kill Cafe, Artemas, PA on Thursday night for country ribs and two sides.

Two people I admire, one of them being Hecate, have touted Druid books by Emma Restall Orr. These tomes by a respected British Druid aren't easy to find. I had to use Alibris.

Two dear little volumes arrived about four weeks ago. Just now I inspected them more closely and found they're the same words in two different packages! I therefore recommend the hardcover, titled simply Druidry.

I didn't see the similarities sooner because Ms. Orr begins her book(s) with a strict admonition. One must case one's house and find something of value that reflects one's life. Then one must pack a light lunch and a nourishing beverage, bung on the comfy walking shoes, and stride purposefully into the deep wilderness. There, after a sufficient period of meditation, one must either leave the valued object behind or prepare to part with it by giving it to a stranger or a thrift store.

Ms. Orr says not to read anymore of her book(s) until this job is done.

I have spent a great deal of time thinking about this. Yeah, I know I should get a life.

See, I really really want to read the rest of Druidry. There's just one problem. It's the valuable item thingy.

I have one -- a valuable item -- namely, a Selenite crystal about the size of a small magick wand. I bought the crystal in Berkeley Springs because when I picked it up I got a chill. (I like the word frisson better.) I soon learned from holding the crystal that it wanted to be re-committed to the earth from which it had come. So it's a no-brainer to take the crystal and give it the old heave-ho into a deserted rocky place.

Wait a minute. Emma, can we talk? Let me count the ways this becomes a task of monumental proportions.

1. I'm taking a trip into the mountains. I will have my soon-to-be 13-year-old with me. You try walking into the wilderness for hours of meditation with a kid who lost her ear to a cell phone and won't leave home without two pounds of makeup. I guess I could leave her with relatives, but ...

2. The relatives will want me to sit and chat all day, because I get home so seldom. Which leads me to ...

3. Close relatives living cheek-to-jowl with the swimming hole that I wanted to throw the crystal into. You can't just lob a crystal this size into a rushing stream. Someone's gonna see it and take it, and ooooooo, will that crystal be steaming mad. But if I pull up to the swimming hole with my big sedan carrying Jersey plates, I'm gonna be seen. By people who love me so much they want me to return to the Christian fold forthwith.

4. This throws me back on Plans B and C. Neither one appealing or perfect.

5. Plan B: The bridge under which Terrapin Run flows. A suitably thorny descent and scary dark bridge underside. But human re-discovery of crystal highly likely when it gets tumbled in a flash flood.

6. Plan C: Remote Wilderness Area full of big, tumbled boulders. An Appalachian gap so deep that no cell phone will penetrate its rugged and stunningly beautiful interior. And that brings us back to ...

7. The Spare and her cell phone. It takes more than an hour to walk into the wilderness area. No bars, trust me, from the moment you embark. And although the destination is a rugged wilderness area, it's not people-free. I will have to bury that crystal under a heaping big cairn that looks like part of the landscape. With Spare strutting and fretting all the while.

So Emma, I'm on the case, dear. But please note the difficulties. Don't hate me for them.

If I'm unable to bury the crystal with sufficient stealth, I think I'll drop The Spare at the nearest thrift store. The book just says something of value ...

FROM ANNE

THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS

See you Monday!