Donkey Tale - Name Games

My donkey, impishly grinned and said, "you don't know my name, do you?" "no," I answered. "Well," he mused, knowing I was embarrassed at neither knowing nor having tried to know, after all I could have asked. Trying to set it right I bit my lower lip and said in a barely audible voice, "what is your name?"

"Well," he teased, "it is not sweetie, or babe, or little donkey, and it most certainly is not you stubborn old thing." I tried to mutter an apology, again, he stood there, grinning.



"You can be insufferable." I was nearly crying.
"You've nearly made her cry" came a small voice just to the side of me. I was quite shocked as I was not aware that the geese in the gypsy camp were also able to speak.



"You can speak too?" "If you are willing to really listen, we can be heard to speak," the goose explained. "I'm sorry I did not mean to be insensitive, but since I did not know you could speak it seemed silly to ask you your names. Still I am truly sorry if any of the things I've called you made you feel hurt. Would you tell me now please, what are your names?"

"Mine is Ginny," said the goose, "and my grinning friend the donkey is Doncaster Grey, he likes to tease, don't feel too badly" with that ginny crawled into my lap like a cat, she was a lovely and affectionate goose. The donkey was still grinning and making faces.



"Alright, Doncaster Grey, what is it?" "Well," started the donkey while shuffling his donkey feet in the dirt, "I've been thinking I should like to have a Halloween costume too, just as the humans do. I thought I'd like to be and angel, after all I already have wings." It seemed like a fair enough request and after a bit of consideration I took Ginny off my lap and made a few changes to have Doncaster go from just plain old flying and talking donkey to an angel donkey.

Some glitter in the wings and sparkly eyelashes glued on and a halo fashioned from tin foil and wire. "Would you mind very much, marm, sketching me in costume, to remember the moment by?" so this is what I sketched. Donkeys can be very silly.

Spirit Servant and Medusa

Baba Yaga has bought in her Spirit Servant and the Medusa to avenge herself. Le Enchanteur can run but she will have trouble hiding from these two. Let's see how she gets herself out of this pickle. The Spirit Servant's plan is to capture her in a bottle and let her be a servant, at everyone's beck and call for awhile.

Short Lived Glory

Baba said it 'would all end in tears' and right now she is far from happy. Le Enchanteur will need to watch her back because Baba is not someone to toy with. Turning Baba into a purple dragon is not one of le Enchanteur's better ideas, especially when Augustus and Moonbeam are playing out their hero archetypes. Could be interesting come Halloween!

Tree of Lost Letters - Hermitage

copyright Monika Roleff 2005.

This is a tree of lost letters. Seeing Halloween is coming up, the Hermitage is welcoming lost letters, so if you have a letter that was lost, this tree has caught them all. Feel free to write that letter and make it breathe new life. Even if you just think the letter, it might come to pass. The tree is for lost wishes that are captured by nature, and may come true one day.....

Spells Abound

Le Enchanteur and The Amazon Queen are down at the Archipelago practicing some spells for Halloween. Baba has flown away saying that 'it is all going to end in tears'. You would think she'd be happy to be turned into a purple dragon and not a common and garden green frog. Some people just cannot be pleased.

The Golden Bone Chair

Baba Yaga brings out this designer, hand crafted, chair especially for Halloween and All Soul's Night. The idea is that travellers can take turns to sit on the chair and have five minutes in the spotlight as they perform for the crowd. Come October 30th - through to November 2 Baba is hoping that one by one travellers will take the golden seat and make a special presentation. Costumes and wigs are available in Pandora's Costume Box. Excuse drunken Silenus who can never miss a party. Hopefully the donkey is taking him away.

My Goodness, Is that?

My Goodness, Is that?

I come huffing and puffing the last little bit into the gypsy camp. The camp which until now I'd only watched from the hilltop. Somehow I've just been to tired to face too many people all at once. Today I am determined to take myself all the way to the bottom of the hill and look into the Sunday market.

There in the middle of a open area of grass just behind one of the few permanent houses sat an old woman. Not old really, more like weathered, as if there were several lifetimes carved into her knowing face. Her eyes looked through and beyond everything, or so it would seem. Maybe she was daydreaming off in some distant world. Her life might seem to her as mine now does to me, like nesting dolls, one life inside another. I don't know about the gysy but I cannot know if I am in the inner life, the outer one or one in between?

She seems oblivious to the goings on, ladies dancing, pied pipers piping, giggling girls putting up laundry and a lively kitten swiping away at butterfilies. My donkey is trotting off to meet with other donkeys at the other side of the camp, they too are making quite the commotion.

I think I'll just sit here and rest a while. I'll think if I really should tie the old gypsy scarf around my head and read cards as my aunt Anna taught me. Perhaps I might see what teas the guides suggest I prescribe for the betterment of the customer's health, all in the spirit of the market to profit the overall karma and barter back and forth for what we earnestly need.



My fingers nervously knot the scarf around my head. I shuffle my Marseille Tarot deck. I don't need the cards, they are a prop, a lovely prop once given to me by a dear friend, for seeing babies in her future, when her twins were born, she gave me this deck. These cards have been with me for thirty years. Twenty years since I last used them.

I slipped the deck in my volumenous skirt pocket, and slowly descended the hillside, stepping gingerly sideways hoping to not be noticed just yet. Baba looked up and smiled. "Good, you're here".

A Little Reading by the Roadside

A little reading and playing with pencils the order of the day.

Pied Piper Archetype

When le Enchanteur is in Pied Piper mode there is electricity in the air and Pegasus cannot resist coming to take someone with her, on the wings of imagination. Le Enchanteur is playing a tune that the hardiest of travellers will find hard to resist. Follow her and go for a night ride with Pegasus. Pegasus will take you anywhere in the world. He is yours for the night.

In the Water and on the Shore

My invitation to skinny dipping was answered by a bevy a ladies and chatter and laughter skated across the water to Owl Island and the whole of the shore for miles. The water was cool. Our donkeys hawed and honked on the shore.



Blue lipped we hurried out after a few minutes to dry off and warm up. Someone came up with a box of goodies (much of it chocolate, a fire was quickly built from deadwood, so dry it lit with little work. We swapped stories of how we got here and we thought we might go next. It was late when we each left to find a bed for the night. I chose mine right there, under the stars and by the fire. My is donkey, part guardian and part pet, still keeping me company.

Dolly Dreams

My cat Stimpson, missing his favourite hug-dolly Jamaica to take naps with, is having dolly dreams.

Leaving the Sunday Market I was now ready to proceed to the Gypsy camp. I had left Lucinda and Destiny camping just outside the market entrance, after much insistence on my part. As I approached the campsite it was obvious that there was a problem. Lucinda was sitting on a blanket, a new hat perched stylishly on her head, and a beautiful green fan in her hand, but she was definitely not happy. Destiny was pacing and pawing the ground in frustration.

�What in heavens name is wrong�, I asked.

�I am not real�, Lucinda whaled.

�Not real? What does that mean? You look real to me�

�Yes, to you�, she answered, but not to anyone else.�. �No one else can see me.� she sobbed .

�Oh dear, I answered, How do you know.�

Lucinda proceeded to tell me that while I was at the market the Secretary of Donkeys Inc. came by and talked to Destiny. She was telling Destiny she was welcome to come and stay there any time she wanted. She even introduced Destiny to her donkey and they visited. It seems that in all that time the Secretary never spoke to Lucinda. �I even got right in front of her and she walked right through me.�, she sobbed and none of the travelers on the road could see me either.�

I did not know what to say but I knew that the Enchantress was not pleased by her taking over. Perhaps this was her way of making this journey mine instead of Lucindas. I said nothing, and luckily so, as behind Lucinda something was happening. A large blue mist was forming and I could see an outline of a figure within it. �Look Lucinda, what is that?�

Lucinda turned around, and out of the mist stepped a man. He smiled and bowed in front of Lucinda in the most gallant, old fashioned way, and said, �I have been sent to be your escort to the gypsy dances.�

Well, one more drama solved, but my little group is slowly growing and luckily the gypsy camp is now in view. I need to relax there for a while and quiet my fast moving mind. I need to stay in one spot for a while.  

In need of self indulgence

Still licking my wound from the last week, in retreat with treats, I think I might need another day's rest.



Misery loves calories, and that always means a trip to the store first, a chace to work it off built in by having to go back a second time.

A video version to Stravinsky will be on my video page later this week.

aletta

For some reason that totally escaped my understanding Destiny was passively obeying Lucindas� every word. As we headed down the road Lucinda filled me in on all her past reincarnations and why she was here with me. It seems her memory only goes back to the 1700s� She was born in Ireland during times of severe hardship and only lived until 8 years old. Just long enough to have dreams of the future?, she told me.

Then in the 1800s� she came into the same family line in Scotland, for only a few hours. She did not understand why she had not lived but tried one more time in the 1900s�, to my grandmother and grandfather, in the United States. This also ended in early death. I held my breath. This was not just an interesting tale. This would have been my fathers sister. I even have the obituary that was printed in the local paper at that time.

So�, she continued, You can see why once you started using my name in all your visualizations I saw a perfect opportunity to actually live in your world. as an adult and not just a newborn helpless creature. The Enchantress has allowed me to enter, with certain powers and restrictions, and here I am.

�Amazing�, was all I could think to say. But� I stammered,this is not the real visual world, this is an inner world of my imagination�

She gave me an indulgent glance. I am well aware of that, but I have a satchel filled with beautiful things to wear and I am heading to a gypsy camp to sing and dance and have pleasures I have never had before.� Now hang on. The forest is just ahead and the gypsy camp is just on the other side.

Take to the air Destiny.� We are taking a shortcut over the forest.�
 

Just a Little Progress, But Progress Nonetheless.

Starting off again today, too late in the day to fully get to where I am going but still feel I should make the effort. I passed the most amazing trees wearing lacy fungus skirts, patches of toadstools at their gnarled roots.



The donkey still followed me, though not at my urging. Doing what could only be described as an awkward bunny hop and nose-nudging it dawned on me (I am none to quick on the uptake today), the donkey was trying to point something out to me.



Quite surprising I found a doll, looking just like the one my mother made from my dad's old corduroy pants. That was a half century ago, and miraculously this doll has never been lost, nor needed mending.



Her name was Jamaica.



I've no idea how she got beneath the tree, all they way out here. I last left her sitting on a shelf in my hallway. Jamaica has always been profoundly important to me, representing constancy, after all she is always there, even when I am away and forget to pack here, somehow she still is there. Gifts made with love are never lost.



I suppose I've taken her for granted and not noticed her wandering off.


aletta

A Clutch of Hedgehogs

I had a particularly stressful day dealing with the powers that be, and are, and sadly evermore shall be. so when I got home I really needed to unwind in the worst sort of way. Well, at the end of it I found I had created this clutch of hedgehogs and thought I would share.



Now while this may not be particularly part of the journey, it should always matter what is just to the side of us also.

aletta

Back on the road

As soon as we had our picnic lunch the ladies were back on the road heading for the Gypsy camp. Destiny was grazing nearby and Lucinda, the doll, seemed to be very busy transforming herself. I called to her a couple of times and she always replied, "Just a bit more time. I am picking a wardrobe and fixing my hair". Ok, I guess we can get acquainted later. Right now I was anxious to finish my snapshot of the Silk Road for my mental photo album. That was what the "SEEING" game was about which we did not have time to play.

I was just settling back to enjoy the next sense, hearing, when I received another message encouraging moving on to the gypsy camp. I groaned….I just am not a speedy traveler. I would have slowly explored the Silk Road, gone to the Sunday Market, and check out the silky merchants that have warehouses on this road, with no specified destination in site, but others were already at the Gypsy camp and I was expected.

"I’m ready, Lets go" called Lucinda carrying an old fashioned satchel. I was stunned. My doll had transformed herself into a women. She also was a women of the 1800s and was the same size as me. I was speechless but their was no chance for me to say anything anyway as she was excited and quickly loading everything into a cart which appeared from nowhere. Calling Destiny who was as startled as I was, she hitched up the wagon and jumped into the drivers seat. "Come on board" "We have a gypsy camp to get to"

Raven Guards Report to Amazon Queen

Ravens have alerted the Amazon Queen, who is in her Summer Palace near the lake, that many travellers are on the road and that the Gypsies are camped quite close by. They have reported that le Enchanteur keeps opening the door to her realm and that the roads of the realm are busy.

At Last

Packed and ready with some vague sense of what lies ahead. I have put my faith in the enchantress to not lead me into anything but adventure and warmth of friends. Trust has to be put somewhere. To laugh and dance, that's what I'm looking for.



aletta

The Back Seat

I wrote this some time ago but Steph's Strike Three brought it back to me. Some of you may have read it before but most have not so here goes.

The Back Seat

She was the child
who played in the woods,
who thought the world
was hers to grasp,
the child whose dreams were bigger than the sky,
whose playmates were wild;
fleet of foot, winged, and finned.

She was the child that had needs,
that had visions
of what she wanted to be,
but the child who was told
over and over
that she would amount to nothing at all,
that she was useless,
a dreamer,
a wastrel.

She was the child who was told
over and over
to be seen and not heard,
to silently listen to what others may say,
but not to butt in,
for her thoughts and her words
were worth nothing at all.

She was that child,
tho' now an old woman
whose dreams lost their way,
who knew that, no matter what,
she could never succeed.
She'd been told so, you see,
over and over.

She was that child,
tho' now an old woman
who wonders
where went the child
that rode life like a merry-go-round,
the child that wrapped her arms around Pegasus's neck?

She was that child,
now frail and in limbo,
remembering
in the clear view of hindsight--

Her friends were their friends,
never her own,
so she sits here alone
tied into her chair
silently listening,
withdrawn into self
and searching--
for what?
She was the woman
who, throughout the years,
sat in the back.
That was her burden, you see,
to live through the lives
of those who sat in the front,
for she was no more than a shadow
on the back stage of life,
for a shadow, you see,
is seen and not heard.

She is the old woman who mourns
for the years that have passed,
with hope too late to be hopeful.
For the road back is too far,
the journey too difficult,
the path --
over-grown and weedy.

She is the old woman,
tied into her chair,
trying to escape disillusion
while life rots around her
in the half dead and the dying,
while shadows pass by
ignoring the child that once was.

She is the child, now an old woman
tied into her chair,
who knows
that by taking the back seat,
she lost her most precious possession--

her life
and what could have been.

Vi
©July 18, 2005

I am not really tied to a chair, but I could have been had I not gained the freedom of cronedom.

Vi

GREAT FUN: A PICNIC

Welcome ladies. Glad to meet you. I am known as Grandma Jane. I would love your company for a picnic. Also we have one more coming in soon to join us. The secretary of Donky Inc. has asked if she can join us too. She said she shall come with her dancing donkey, bringing a supply of apples for your team, a jug of ice cold lemonade and a sponge cake. What fun, a spontaneous party.

What am I doing? I am playing the SEEING game. I am sure you have never heard of it before because I made it up but it is a game you can play with 5 people or all by yourself. Until Fran joins us do you want to play too?

"Great! The first thing you have to do is to tell me, " What are the five senses"? Then once you know what that means you put them on 5 pieces of paper, fold each up and then each of us we will draw one I will tell you how to use it in the game later. Think about yours tell we start to play. Tell Nessie to join us too. ( Fran or I can take the fifth sense and after you finishing drawing you can tell us what ours is. )

This bologna sandwich is delicious. I havn’t had one in a long time. OH and would do you happen to have a folding chair in your cart for Fran. She says ‘Do you think the girls might have a picnic chair for me as I am very old and my knees don't bend enough to sit on the blanket’. I will have to teach her some of my yoga moves. She can’t be older then me. If you don’t have a chair I have one wish left on an old magic wand. We could wave it and take all her stiffness away.

GREAT FUN: A PICNIC: Any passerby on the road is welcome. Plenty of food for anyone.

On The Road to Ithaca

So, there we were; me, my cats, and the dragon, well, to be honest, she is my dragon. I created her from fear and a sense of helplessness, she became far more than a spirit-guide or guardian. She became a friend, and sweet comfort when I had no other comfort.

We were stopped at Destiny's Crossroads, and like an African Destiny it was fan-shaped. At the end of every path was a Destiny. Now, I coould only choose one, which one? I have no clue as to where any of them will lead, or if that is the path I should be on.

I seek any clue, even a slight hint as to where I should go. I laughed for a breath, scratched me head and did what any red-blooded over tired,over-worried, under reassured, pained of flesh, mind, heart, and spirit woman worth her Midol would do.

I sat on my fat arse and started to have a damn good cry.

I know, it won't solve anything, nothing will change by my tears, but I knew if I didn't 'blow off steam' I would lose it in a far worse way. I am the first to admit that I don't know everything; I am knowing myself better nowadays though.

I knew from that feeling of having innards made of a macrame of living snakes, and being too aware of feelings, yet being detached from even my body what could happen if I didn't release some of the pressure.

I was already avoiding knives and the kitchen, the bright edges of those cutting implements can hypnotise, and I would not follow their dictates; not today, nor for any of the tomorrows.

Yet, the pains that called this forth from the dark places of my spirit remain, and do not allow me peace or rest. So, I weep, on the dusty verge of the crossroads, with cats and dragon awaiting my choice.

"Hay-yooo-munn?" The sweet, accented voice was far too high and soft to be from a 'hay-yooo-munn' larynx. I looked up as I wiped my face with the heel of my one good hand.

A doll stood there, oh not just any doll. No Barbie, or Skipper, or betsy-Wetsy for me; she was a lving, breathing, moving 'Jane West' doll. The only doll I liked as a girl, she wore her Western Jeans and Shirt, she had on her tan chaps and cowboy hat with a spiderweb fine line of sweat-salt around the base of the little-bitty crown.

She had a living Breyer horse for her mount, I remembered him, I called mine "Chippewa Chieftain". The horse whuffled and bobbed his delicate head as if in recognition of the name.

"Hay-yoo-munn? 'ow long do you t'ink you be cryin' like dis? We need to trabell fast now, I hear dat Koschey's on de prowl. We don' want git caught by 'im. Nosirree!" One fingernail clipping-sized foot tapped impatiently, the dust it raised almost invisible.

"Uhhh..." I snifffled and wiped my eyes again. "Let me blow my nose and I'll be ready to go. Do I call you, ahhh... Jane?"

"Ho! No hay-yuu-munn!! Dat is not m'real name. Dat is what de oodder hay-yoo-munns calls me." Her wink was barely seen. "You know my real name, don' you? I'm alive peetuzz of yooo."

"You're Annelinna." My words weren't a question. I hated being the same as everyone else, even as a child, so I renamed my doll, and her herd of horses to suit me.

"Yezzz!! You do remember!!" Annelinna hopped onto my leg and clambered up to my shoulder. "Hyoo needs choozzzz w'ich way we go now."

"I know..."

"Jus' chooozzzz." The tiny whisper sparked me to choose, not by thought or even instinct. I chose by where my feer were pointing when I struggled to my feet. "We go now!!" Annelinna's chiming voice was truimphant as our strange entourage got under way.

River Deep, Mountain High

The doll was old. Very old.

From the looks of her, she was held together by “toy magic”. There were a few wisps of string where her hair had once been. The fabric of the body had a sheen to it. It felt smooth and thick to the touch, and very fragile. The clothes were newer, though by no means “new”. I had to wonder just how this doll was to guide and advise me, when she looked like a change of weather might disintegrate her.

As I held her at eye level studying her carefully, she raised her hand and squeezed my nose.

“Beep.”

Needless to say, I was not expecting that, and I think it was perfectly understandable that I dropped the little creature.

“Did you just say ‘beep’”, I asked inching backward?

It, I mean, she, sat up and looked up at me blinking her wide eyes at me. I regarded her, and she, me. Her eyes suddenly seemed to crinkle up and she flung herself backward onto the ground giggling uncontrollably. Her laughter was clear and high and full of delight.

She sat up, legs splayed before her looking up at me.

“You is so scared” she exclaimed with glee. “I’s thought your eyeballs go pop!” With that statement she returned to her giggling fit.

I sank to my haunches with a sigh as the doll got up and ran rings around me chanting “pop, pop, pop,” repeatedly. What were the words of the Enchantress? Oh yes,” if we should lose our way, or be in need of help, all we have to do is ask the doll what to do. She says that the doll will assist, that we must keep her with us at all times.” Oh yea! I wrapped my pity blanket around myself and felt that this was inevitable.

This is my guide through an enchanted land, and she is broken.

Nessies ladies

I found a comfortable spot under a tree and took the blanket off of Destiny’s back and spread it out. My doll Lucinda immediately jumped from my hands and stretched herself in a tall yogi pose, "A person could get all their circulation cut off tightened in a belt like that" she sputtered.

I picked up an apple beneath the tree and began eating as destiny grazed near by, as Lucinda seemed to be conjuring images of clothing around her. I left her to her tasks and gazed across a field of grain. Inhaled deeply I absorbing the fragrance of my surroundings. Their was the dry, crispy smell of grain ready to be harvested, the smell of the grass next to me and the faint smell of clover in the distance. I once more was enjoying the reason I wanted to be on foot; To see the road, in depth.

I was deep in the enjoyment of the moment in smell when I heard a rattling sound coming in the distance and people laughing and singing . Glancing down the road I saw a donkey pulling a wagon which seemed to be filled to the brim with ladies having a fun time. I smiled as they came nearer and discovered me under a tree. All of a sudden all three lovely ladies jumped out of their wagon and came running over to me, all asking questions at once.

"Hello, hello, hello." Who are you? "What are you doing" "I am Coral, I am Jade, "I am Quoise", they all choired at once. "What is your name?" "Is that your horse? Why don’t you have a donkey"

I laughed and welcomed them to my blanket.

Let Me Out Of This Restraint

?Let me out of this restraint, you silly old lady, the doll demanded.

?What do you think you are doing�

Well now, is that any way to talk. After all you were just a cotton stuffed doll.�

That shows how much you know lady, and if you would have paid more attention you would have realized that I am much more then what meets the eye at first meeting.�

�Now stop somewhere while I search for some decent apparel for myself and we will have a little talk.�

�HMP� � I have never wore an apron in my life.� � What do you think, I am a maid!� � HMP���

Enchanted Realm - Lemurian Journeying

When I first came by the Lemurian Abbey, and indeed the realm of Lemuria via the many patterned roads, I could see it in the distance, towering and full of dreams.

Since then, this place has gained mind pictures to its vistas, and experiences have been indelibly stamped in the various corners and turns of the roads. I see a smile in words from a fellow traveller, a word of advice from the elders, a helping hand from a raven, plants and flowers caressing the path wherever I go.

Wise words say we build our own reality. These days of strife test us to make a new book, to paint a new picture, to try out a new thought. To think deeply about places we have never been but are bidden by instinct to go.

Travel on, and build a new reality, one that values the finer things in life, sharing your dreams with all you meet on the road. Then Lemurian Realms will always be towering and beautiful, filled with dreams and adventures on the roads of the journey around the self.


copyright Monika Roleff 2005.

Servant for Highest Bidder

By night this designer, Soul Hand Candle Holder, in Red Boots, will illuminate your manuscripts and art work. By day they will do the bidding of their owner and guide them safely to the Gypsy Camp. They will be a match for any of the indentured hands in Baba's house and will make sure their owner is protected from any unreasonable demands.

These hands will go to the highest bidder. Make the best, non monetary offer, to the Amazon Queen and she will command these hands become your servant.

Usless guilt

I am afraid I am going to miss the roll call and the wake. This being only my first morning on the road I sent a message to Donkeys Inc. hoping the donkey would get me there in time for roll call but fate or rather Destiny has created a problem that will cause me to miss the roll call. This is the message I was forced to send Donkeys Inc. when they answered and informed me they would take care of Destiny.

Donkeys Inc.
Thank you for your kindness but Destiny has read the message and is putting up a continual argument. I am afraid she has a terrific superiority complex. To be sheltered with mules has put her into a state of unmanageability that I can not seem to change. I may not be able to work this out. She seems to think she knows the way to the gypsy camp so I have finally agreed to let her try first and if we get lost I will put my foot down and call t o you for help.. I hope by that time you will still have a mule left. I hear everyone is already at the wake and I feel terrible not to be there to lend my support.

I am feeling terrible guilt as everyone was so supportive when I went through my two losses this year. I know how touched I was at that time to have others sympathy. I know guilt is completely useless and I must get rid of it. I shall hunt for a florist shop along the road. In the beauty of flowers there must be a flower that would expresses comfort at this time.

BUT now the doll in my belt, which I haphazerdly named Lucinda, is kicking and screaming to be released from my tight belt and I must look into this.

The Doll Guide

Vasilisa, her magic doll, and the White Horseman of Dawn
(Courtesy of Russian Sunbirds)

When you set out to Baba Yaga's, via the Gypsy Camp, you were told you had a doll guide. You also had a bag with various things that the le Enchanteur felt you needed for safe passage within this realm. Items include magical spectacles, a candlestick, a tiny anchor, a compass, a medallion with the imprint of the Unicorn and a set of wings. The bag also contained a map showing where the Gypsies are currently camped.

Le Enchanteur's ventriloquist doll Stanley is a bit of a worry and keeps giving poor directions and generally distracts Sibyl. Hopefully your guide is more useful. Vasilisa, pictured here, found her doll to be a very reliable companion and indeed, the doll regularly comes to the rescue.

Many doll folktales were published in collections from Russia, Ukraine, Belarus and Poland, from the 1830s through at least the 1970s. Slavic tales feature dolls which aid, comfort, and advise the heroine. In most of the tales, the dolls open up the earth to enable the heroine to sink through to the underworld and escape an impending incestuous marriage to her father or brother. These tales are analyzed as stories of initiation. The heroine grows up through the course of the tale, performing various initiatory tasks, acquiring adult attributes, and subsequently marrying. The heroine's magic doll is an East Slavic variant of the fairy godmother. She is a talismanic incarnation of the heroine's dead mother, who provides life, nourishment, care and advice from the next world. The doll also embodies the "fairy" or sacred aspects of ancient Slavic earth goddess-spirits by acting as a guide in the crossing between the perceived worlds of the living and the dead.

An investigation of the heroine's descent leads to the hypothesis that the doll tales are related to narratives from agrarian rituals held between the winter and summer solstices. In these rituals, the burying of a vital female leads to her symbolic rebirth in spring, as evidenced in crop growth, marriage, and human fertility. On another level, the tales articulate the history of the Christianization of the East Slavs during the second millennium. The descent of the heroine into the earth depicts the submersion and subversion of pagan traditions under the influence of the newer religion. With the introduction of Orthodox Christianity in the tenth century, the use of dolls as votive objects literally went underground in the East Slavic lands, while the image of the female helper transformed and came to be represented instead from within the gilded frames of Christian icons.

As you travel down the Silk Road the doll is just one guide who will look after you. Some travellers have actually made dolls to accompany them and the creative results have been fascinating.

source: Doll FolkTales of the East Slaves
Make dolls inspired by the Baba Yaga mythology.

After safely tucking my gifts away in my backpack and sliding Lucinda, my doll, into my belt, I headed out a onto the Silk road. I put a harness on Destiny and she followed begrudgingly behind me, complaining under her breath constantly. She is use to leading. I could not hear most of what she was muttering but definitely heard the sentence "� Who ever heard of walking", many times in between mutters. I explained patiently that soon we would ride, as soon as I had heard from Donkey Inc. which we would fly to, and this seemed to make her more indignant. After repeating "A DONKEY"� a few times she kept sound to a low mutter. I was glad as the sun was now coming up and the fields were glowing in autumn colors. It was time for me to enjoy the walk.

All along the road cat tails were swaying in a gentle breeze. A group of six sparrows swooped and dash through the weeds as though in play. It is golden autumn and even the air seems to have taken on an autumn glow. The clouds are large and heavy and all the bottoms are grey. I hope that does not signal an approaching storm. For now though I will absorb all the sights my eyes can absorb, snap picture with the camera in my mind, and record them in the Silk Road album in my brain, to review later.

Morgaine's Beginnings.

Morgaine awoke to birds singing and noticed the first light break through the darkness. how she loved this time of day and dusk too, everything was so peaceful and serene. She lay there awhile thinking about what may lay ahead for her.

'Morgaine, I foraged with the remaining donkeys last night while you slept, they said you need to get to the Enchantress cave first to receive your bag, in it you will find some things to help you on your journey'.

'How do I do that, where do I go,'? Morgaine asked.

'You must have faith Morgaine, the answer will come, in the mean time, prepare yourself for the day, eat something, enjoy the sunrise, I shall return shortly, I will try to find out more'.

'Thank you Gallahad I am so glad you are here to help me'.

'Your very welcome Morgaine'.

Confused - Check Soul Food Silk Way for Tour Route

Remember to keep checking the Soul Food Silk Road Official Tour Route if you are experiencing any problems on the road and mail le Enchanteur if you have a problem. Once you are familiar with the bloggers you will be able to flit from place to place and get to know people in this realm. Persist and you will find your way.

The Soul Food Silk Road Tour

At the moment we have quite a crowd who have come through the doorway into the world of the Soul Food Silk Road. The door to the cave is shutting and brambles are beginning to hide it from view again. Now only those who are on blogger lists will be able to participate (a few people are still listed to be signed in.)

Once you come through the door and are sent on your way you will find yourself in a labyrinth and people are at different points of the labyrinth. Only le Enchanteur and Baba Yaga have been to the centre and visited the Amazon Queen but eventually everyone will find their way to her summer palace on the lake overlooking Nemi. They will do this in their own time frame and not on a tour bus.

It is totally up to the individual to explore this realm but le Enchanteur does provide a guided tour which you can follow. Experienced travellers are unlikely to go back to the same spots all over again but they may want to revisit places. Gail Kavanagh is welcoming everyone at the Gypsy Camp. This does not mean she does the journey again any more than Fran, the Donkey Secretary will tread more leather down all the pathways. These early travellers found places to call home within the Silk Road and that is the primary object. You are not all meant to walk in continuous circles. The journey is an organic thing that keeps evolving and changing. It is not static.

If experienced travellers can lend a hand and help new travellers find places and post their work so that they are archived this would be wonderful. Everyone is currently enroute to Baba's house but not everyone will make it there by the most direct route. We have so many blogs because many are acting as archives once visitors have gone. White Owl Island is a lovely place to visit and you will find the original instructions at the beginning of the blogger.

At the moment I am trying to complile a sequential journey at Soul Food Silk Way Tours so that if people get lost and need to orientate themselves they can go and check what the outline is.

The Donkeys' Union has taken too much time

I am afraid I am rather slow in setting out on the trip myself and still cannot leave the office as more donkeys will no doubt be needed by those travelling and I do have to do some administrative chores for each of them. It was good of Treasa to send us a record of her relationship with her donkey, Jack. I have posted Jack's portrait and his rules. Excellent advice as you will see what happened when his rider forgot to watch where they were going. I did slip away with Mehitabel for an evening on Owl Island where I took a couple of photos. The lovely Moonbeam, our most beautiful donkey has returned to us if any of you need a very special mount. Geraldine is still at the Hermitage looking after and teaching young Georgia and so is not available. Please report to me if you need any extra equipage on your tour. Yours The Secretary of the Donkeys' Union.

Back to the Grotto? I sat down on the ground, dejected. I could feel myself slipping into the brooding child, sitting under a lilac bush, who had just been reprimanded for being mischievous . Not only that but I had no idea how to get back. As I sat there, cross-legged on the ground feeling sorry for myself I heard my courier raven calling in the distance.

�OH no� I thought, �Not again� , but he just circled above and dropped a dispatch in front of me on the path. Obviously he was still a little annoyed with me but it was not the first time and he will get over it. Opening the dispatch I find that we are soon setting out for a gypsy camp on the silk road and the entrance to the Grotto will soon be completely hidden. I must hurry and find my room. There was a picture of the grotto entrance but the dispatch had fallen in a puddle and the ink was smeared. I was just about to head out on my own journey once more when my horse, Destiny spoke.

�Get back in the saddle and I will take you to the entrance if that is where you want to go�, he said. � I know the way.� By now it was getting dark and I was tired. Obediently I climbed back on his back and he headed towards the sunset. 

Stanley - Le Enchanteur's Ventriloquist Companion

le Enchanteur is not a ventriloquist of any note. Stanley is her companion as she heads off to see her old friend Baba Yaga. Knowing Stanley there could be a few detours on this trip. Meanwhile everyone in the Gypsy Camp is enjoying Stanley and the Chief is currently reading 'Ventriloquism for Dummies' which he picked up at a second hand bookshop on the road.

Diary of a Frantic Traveler

“What exactly does one pack for a journey to an enchanted land?” Since I posed this question to the dog, I had little hope of finding any help. You can never find a cat when you need one.

Should I pack an actual luggage set, or just a duffel bag? Or maybe a backpack is more appropriate. And shoes. Just what kind of shoes will I need? And clothes….sporty, dressy, casual…what was everyone else going to wear? I was beginning to regret ever signing on for this. It is so against my nature to leap into the unknown. The knot in my stomach was tightening.

“Doing it for yourself, weren’t you?” Oh goody. The cat had arrived.

“Of course it’s for me” I snapped at the little black and white fur ball. I sunk onto the bed. Deflated. I didn’t know anyone going on this trip. I’ve never done anything like this. Was I going to be good enough to be there? Would the others have more experience than I? Did they all know what to do? I was making myself sick with worry. And to top it all off, I was going to be late

“What matter are things you take. Possessions only. That is not what you are”. Elephi was a vision of tiny, efficient smugness.
.
“Okay Yoda, you’re right. I am doing this for myself. To learn for myself, test myself, and hopefully enjoy myself. But I think I should at least bring some personal hygiene products, for the sake of my fellow travelers.

I throw some jeans, t-shirts and undies in my satchel. I add some pencils, markers, crayons and paper in to the mix. Hopefully these will come in handy. I zip up the bag, stash some of my carefully horded chocolate mini-eggs into the outer pouch, and head for the door. I grab my keys and take one last glance around. I hit the lights, and close the door.

The Ravens' Scorn

After getting over the first fear of the speed and the height I found the view breathtaking. I could see my castle And the mountains to the west. The sun was just rising, casting an orange glow across their peaks. I was totally exhilarated. As we headed closer and closer to the waters beyond I heard a frantic cry in the wind, "GO BACK’ GO BACK’. I turned in the saddle and looked over my left shoulder and accidentally pulled the reins to the left. The horse turned left.

I realized for the first time that I had control here. We began soaring in a wide circle over the kingdom, viewing the many roadways, forests and hills below, but the disturbing shrieking then continued in all directions. I discovered that by pulling back on the reins I could slow the horses pace and once slowed down I could see the sounds were coming from the courier raven trying to catch up with me. "This is bad, bad, bad." He cawed.

I pulled back hard on the reins and the horse settled down on the ground and stopped . Settling right in front of my face on the horses neck the raven proceeded to give me a thorough tongue lashing:

"Why do you always go running off on your own?" " Why don’t you read directions better? Why don’t you follow them?" "How much patience do you thing the enchantress has anyway"? "Do you expect her to take you by the hand"? "Go back-Go back"
"Ok, OK," I shouted. " I know" "You obviously know where I should go..so tell me". His loud screeching was getting on my nerves and it was obvious he would not leave me alone until I agreed.

Authoritatively he loudly stated, "You are to wait at the cave for further instructions", and with a haughty flapping of his wings and a deep grumble that sounded like swear words he rose in the sky and headed back towards the silk road. All my shouts of, "where is it, how do I find the cave, which direction do I go", was of no use. He was definitely done with me. Perhaps I can find him a crows gift on this journey to make amends. It is obvious, with my personality, I will need his help.

Again with the doorway!!!

A good giggle will clear the mind and set you on the journey!!

What to pack?? My minds whirls briefly and then begins (from force of habit) the mental countdown of 'necessities', mercifully small after living on the back of a motorcycle for a month.

Clothes, comfortable, versatile, stain resistant; I'll wear my beloved first 'Hippy' skirt in such vital shades and a plain, short sleeved cotton shirt in faded black. I toss in a fuzzily warm sweater, closed shoes for rough terrain, and socks to go under them. There is a pair of comfy and sturdy jeans in a lovely barely worn prussian blue.

I hang my medicine bag around my neck as I am a-swirl in the scent of smudging sage. I tuck my favourite crystal, and my antique French Tarot deck, and my runes in a little gold figured velvet bag as I ask the support and protection of the Creator of Man and the Mother of Man.

There is a new journal/notebook, a sketch pad, basic pencils and charcoals with a kneaded rubber eraser. My camera, and extra photo cards wrapped securely in the jeans and sweater for protection.

Should I bring gifts? I already bring them, all I really have to give is myself. If that isn't enough, no material thing will do either.

Stop, take a cleansing breath, redolent with sage and the small bottles of herbal oils I take for small injuries, and relaxation if needed. Check the weight and balance of my pack. Although the pack itself is light, it is also heavy with anticipation and expectation. Last, but most certainly not last is my staff of seven-barks wood, engraved with the face of the Father of Man, a green suede handle and my secret Wiccan name engraved on it. across from the thong that goes around my wrist is the summoning rattle that found me.


The summoning rattle is seven times seven, seven strands of tiny wooden beads, with seven slivers of mother-of-pearl equally spaced around each strand. Thrice magical in form, and powerful in function conjoined with my staff.

Last but not least my books on herbalism, and wildfare, for foraging along the way, and adding to my stock of herbals. Who knows what magic lies in a tiny white flower? Or what may be needed along the way. Slip on my comfy, secure sandals, looking so Greco-Roman in style, settle my feather hat on my head and take another deep breath.

As I turn off the lights in my room and head out the door I 'chirtle' to Pye and Skye to join me on this adventure, my familiar and her brother fall in on either side, light blue eyes burning with excitement and curiosity.
And thus begins the jourmey...

Let the God and Goddess be with us on our way!!

As soon as I made the decision to explore, my horse rose slowly above the path and headed east towards an endless stretch of water ahead. There was no time now to change my decision and wait for the others. I hope my raven can find me if I am off course.  

Hoof beats echo

What does one take on a mystical journey.? I grabbed my back pack and started walking around the castle, thinking. What in my life is most important? My FAMILY, naturally, are number one but they are stamped in my memory so clearly that there is no need for pictures. Then there is CREATIVITY AND IMAGINATION. I threw a journal with pencil and pen into the pack along with a drawing journal for quick sketching of ideas and scenery. Next? BOOKS. Oh dear…Which book shall I take in case I have trouble sleeping. What book gives me the most reading pleasure that I could read over and over? I knew just the one and I grabbed the small book, "Elizabeth and her German Garden" by Elizabeth Von Arnim. I also have wanted to sketch the different paths and flowers mentioned in her journal. Perhaps if we have rest camps on the way I could do that. Except for a couple of changes of clothes, a rain coat, a warm jacket, and two pair of shoes, that would have to do ….But wait…I may need some gifts to give out. I grabbed a few of my favorite books and blank art journals with cloth covers on them that I had made. And added them to the now heavy backpack. I hurried down to the carriage house to get my man, Jasper, to hitch up our best and fastest horse and started out to the entrance to the cave of the enhanteur.

Two huge rod Iron gates stood open on the side of the dusty road I had been following. I did not know where the doorway was, but the sign over the gate said, "The Enhanteurs' world" so I entered. No one was in sight when I went through the gates, but as I rode down the path that led east I could hear the creeking of the metal gates as they closed behind me. I had the funny feeling that I was not supose to enter yet..Perhaps I was to wait for the others. Last time I took the wrong tunnel and ended up on the island of Iona and missed the whole journey. I could turn back and wait for the others...or I could go ahead and see what was waiting. I can always check back by sending my raven back for the latest instructions and change my route. I am here now and I am curious. I shall explore.

Leaving for Ithaka

People are standing around with bags, rucksacks, suitcases, backpacks, carry alls and saddle bags at the door to the Cave. And to think Sibyl said to travel light! Lucky we have a big store room to keep things so that people can pick them up on their way back home. That room is filling because there hasn't been too many leave the realm.

The first instructions from our guide are at Soul Food Silk Road. Keep checking this and Ithaka Bound if you get lost. We are bound for Ithaka. Ithaka lies within the realm of the Silk Road somewhere, tucked away from view. It is a very enchanted place, a bit like the dreamlike lake of Nemi - Diana's Mirror, as it was called by the ancients. No one who has seen the calm waters of the lake where the Amazon Queen's summer palace nestles, can forget it. Sip from the waters and you forget about the earthly realm and feel the creativity pulsing through your veins.

Ithaka Bound will be open to the public for comment. If you don't get an invitation to join and want to post on this blogger please let me know. I will post out a swathe of invitations but it is very easy to overlook someone so for goodness sake don't let this happen and get lost.

If you are on the Soul Food Cafe mailing list do make sure to ask for an invite to join because I will not keep sending instructions to the whole group.