FINALLY!
I did a little cleaning in my Magical Cabinet (woo–inside joke). I was able to put all the decks I have but don’t use on the bottom shelf. Also, my statue of Hades and Cerebus.
On the second-to-the-bottom shelf I put my witchy stuff like candles, candle holders, incense, oils, and assorted stuff.
On the top shelf, I have Athena, Hermes, and Hekate statues, along with some other witchy things.
My second shelf is bare except for cards I will be using.
While I organized, I found two copies of the Robin Wood deck. I took out my old, battered deck and started reading with it. For four days, I pulled Justice in my three-card readings. There’s two possible reasons for this.
- I have something coming up that has to do with honesty or justice…or the law?
- The card itself is bent at the top and easily falls out.
I’ve taken out the newer Robin Wood deck I have instead. We’ll see how that one works.
This is the first deck that I bought when I was witchy/Pagan. I used it all the time instead of Rider-Waite. I loved the pictures. I love Robin Wood’s artwork. I even have the Ace of Swords tattooed on my arm.
When I was witchy, not a sorcerer, I also got a tattoo of my witch name, Starcrowe, on my right arm. I am no longer that name. As a sorcerer, I would like to get another tat, but no idea what. Not to say I don’t like the tattoos I have, I do. They are reminders of times in my life.
The rose on the tit is my first one. I have a tiny dragon on my left shoulder. I have a huge galaxy with three fairies setting up stars on my right shoulder, which is a cover-up of a matching yin-yang symbol that my husband and I had.
At the same time I got the Ace, my husband got on his leg the lion-with-wings that is on the Two of Cups. He had a skull covered up with a hood, which looked meh and he didn’t like anymore. He had a wolf on his right forearm. And an amazing piece of a bull’s skull on his upper chest, above his heart. He said that hurt, because the needle hit his clavicle. That was done up in Maine, where we also got Grey Mountain, our later 15-year old cat at a place that offered “free Kitens”.
Okay, enough Six of Cups reminiscing. Moving on.
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