Why is the water going haywire?

Last night, I started the dishwasher as I always start the dishwasher. It’s not a built-in dishwasher, but the freestanding full-sized dishwasher that sits in the middle of my kitchen like an island. I wheel it to the sink, pulled out the house and attach the female end of the hose to a special male adapter that resides at the end of my faucet.

I went out to my desk and left the dishwasher to do its business. Our dishwasher will be 20 years old in early May, it’s a Maytag as most of my appliances are. It joined us in our home somewhere around May 10, 2004. I know the exact-ish date because I was eight months pregnant with The Teenager and I said there was no way I was doing dishes by hand once the baby came.

I rose from my desk to meander through the kitchen on my way upstairs to my bedroom. I planned to make tea and of course unfasten the dishwasher from its bondage to the sink if it was done. It was not. As I wandered into the kitchen, my socks slopped through deep water and I immediately thought one of the animals did something undesirable. I looked down to see only water. Everywhere. Around the bottom of the dishwasher.

I opened the door and closed it again wondering if my haphazard dish loading of the poor machine had caused a leak. And then I saw water pouring down the hose from the sink to the dishwasher, creating a stream down the front of my cabinet. I finagled the hose so the water couldn’t possibly follow that angle… and then I saw that the counter was flooded.

We had bathed my cat, the dog and swapped out our own towels the day before so I had a pile of clean towels a few feet away. I began mopping up the mess, still uncertain where it had stemmed from.

I told The Teenager I was done and she said she would investigate. She told me she never did determine where the failure had been.

In the morning, I washed more towels. One of The Teenager’s friends came over for a Tarot card reading and The Teenager asked me to stay nearby in case she got stuck. I glanced over her shoulder at the reading– both she and I are often choppy in our skills– and the whole reading just made sense.

Odd, I thought to myself.

I went about my work, researching and drafting some profile information on local political candidates for a freelance assignment I have. I was very cold and decided to take a shower to warm myself.

When I got out of the shower, puddles pooled across the entire length of the bathtub atop my beloved ceramic floor.

Why is the water going haywire? I asked myself.

Of course, I opted not to research it. Instead, I asked a friend who has some knowledge of these elemental natural matters. Turns out it was her birthday, so I took a moment to celebrate her and asked her what she thought.

I also turned on some yacht rock for quiet background noise. Spotify thinks I’m in a yacht rock phase.

“Ahh….new moon in Pisces,” she replied. “LOTS of water energy all over right now, my dear! Not all of it comfortable!”

So I googled it.

Difficult news and disappointments may leave Taurus (that’s me) disconnected or unsure. You might even feel a mix of anger and sadness. Whatever emotions come up, it’s important to acknowledge them and know that they are valid. Journal how you can use your intuition and wisdom to determine next steps and find solutions. Trust yourself. You have the strength to overcome.

Another site said that this is the time to wish upon a star, make a dream come true and manifest. This article also pointed out that it’s a Pisces super new moon. We have reached a portal for manifestation and spiritual awakening– in Pisces, the sign at the end of the zodiac, where dreams and reality merge.

That feels like my whole “theme” for 2024.

Merging reality and dreams.

And it looks like Venus will be in transit through Pisces until April 5 encouraging empathy, kindness and artistic expression.

And for Taurus specifically– it will be a time of renewal of friendships and future endeavors.

“Envision your dream life and believe in the path it takes to get there.”

Meanwhile, the Teenager says she will run the dishwasher tonight.

It’s Official– I prefer Panera coffee to Dunkin

In my neighborhood, we used to have three Dunkins within “walking” distance. We had one about a half mile to the east, at a major intersection in a weird section of the neighboring town. That one has since closed. That was the closest, and the employees didn’t give a shit, and they always would mess up even the simplest drinks but they would pretty much give away any doughnuts you could want.

There is the Dunkin a mile away, but that one is in the middle of a busy intersection of the highway, a main road and the meeting of several shopping plazas. A traffic nightmare and a tiny parking lot. But that one gets your drinks correct.

Then, there is the Dunkin about two miles away, a block off the leisurely bike path. That one has the largest lobby and bakes the doughnuts for the others. That’s the one I used to walk to so I could pee in the middle of my four mile daily walk. That was years ago. Hard to believe a decade has passed.

During that time, Dunkin has free coffee promotions and mug promotions, $1 iced coffee and now $2 iced coffee. I have realized over time that my loyalty to Dunkin was about convenience and frugality.

When I worked at Target I drank Starbucks iced coffee, because it cost 50 cents, the refill price, if we brought our own cups. Even then I preferred Starbucks to Dunkin.

But I have always enjoyed Panera’s iced dark roast. And finally, after years of considering it, I joined their monthly sip club in December.

On Sunday, I got my second month update of how many times I used my Sip Club privileges. 42 beverages since December 15.

The Sip Club retails for $11.99 a month. It allows the user to redeem one soft drink, coffee or tea (the simple Panera beverages) every two hours. I received an invitation to try the Sip club for $3/month for three months. I find Panera a relaxing place to work and an easy place to meet clients.

But 42 drinks in 60 days? I never anticipated that. I didn’t anticipate heading to Panera about once a week to escape my house and force myself to focus on projects I had been procrastinating. I didn’t anticipate having write-ins with a friend every other week, or suggesting to other friends that Panera could infuse positive work energy into a troubled project. I also did not think about how my favorite Panera sits beside a Barnes & Noble and a Dollar Tree.

Considering all of those things– I think the Sip club might be an even better business investment than HP InstaInk and Paper. I’m sold on the ink but I’m still on the fence about the paper.

Anyway… I had a Dunkin coffee today and it did not measure up to the coffee I enjoy at Panera.

The follow-up and the next fall

Yesterday, I visited my primary care physician. He was thrilled because my blood pressure has stayed at 100-110/70 for the last six months. I am disappointed that my weight has not budged.

Around the last snow storm, I noticed my sinus troubles got so bad that only a day of Sudafed would stop my sneezing (see more here or via the publishing company’s Substack newsletter here) and that since then the mild lightheadness and congestion have not abated. And since I took a flying leap out the warehouse door March 1, 2023 and following that with stair acrobatics at home March 13, I had to ask my doctor– could my sinuses be contributing to my fall risk more than we realize?

So, he changed up my allergy medicine to move me from OTC remedies to prescription medication.

I also mentioned that my heart rate has been stable, even when I have no caffeine or overindulge in the stuff, and that salt has a strong effect on my heart and my weight. But I was no closer to keeping my heart rate under control first thing in the morning.

He asked me to tweak my beta blocker routine to take it before I get out of bed in the morning. And to be completely attentive to it at night. For a month, I am to take both half-pill doses as close to 7 o’clock as possible to see if that prevents my heart rate from jumping from 60 to 80 when I sit up, and then from having another jump from 80 to 100 when I stand. If that balances out my heart rate, he may move me to an extended release medication to maintain my heart rate. Especially since I have a small aneurysm in my brain.

The new allergy medicine he put me on– shifting me from Zyrtec and Flonase to prescription strength Claritin and Nasonex– was ready at my pharmacy by dinner time last night.

“It’s a preferred medication of your insurance,” my doctor said, “so it shouldn’t cost you too much.”

So, the teenager and I took the dog on a walk to CVS this morning where the generics of these two medications, for a one-month supply, cost $93. I know my Zyrtec and Flonase probably cost similar– but I never pay full-price. I use coupons and extra bucks and buy the generic, and on top of all that buy the twin pack and split it with my friend Nancy.

We walk home, and I don’t really complain about the price because I need to know if sinuses are increasing my fall risk and I want to know if I can reduce that risk so the investment is worth it.

On the way home, the dog was frolicking on a small hill, and she came trotting down to catch up with the teenager. She misjudged or maybe lost her footing and raced down the hill right at me, hit me in the legs and sent me flying. I landed on the sidewalk. My knee has a hearty scrape, my hands are sore, and my nervous system is done for the day.

The Unexpected Tale of Eating the Musician’s Olives

Earlier this week I was behind on a deadline. I hadn’t quite missed it, but I had drawn uncomfortably close to it. I texted a friend, a former work colleague, not from Stitch Fix but from my non-profit work. She’s been working on her own creative projects, so I invited her to a write-in at Panera.

She came. We didn’t exactly get any work done, but we had some spirited conversation as we usually do (which comes as no surprise as the topic of the article was ‘sex and the single mom.’) It was Friday afternoon, and suddenly my friend turns to me and says, “I know it’s last minute but…”

And she invited me to an art gallery event in Long Island. The next day. Well, it was a GLVWG Saturday so I had some meetings to run, but I said if we could work it out around the GLVWG schedule, I didn’t have anything else on my formal schedule. Then, she added “we’ll have to stay overnight” and something about drinks and a beach.

That sounded delightful and I haven’t been away from home or out on a Saturday night in a while– We all had that crazy 2023 that kept us guessing.

Now, it’s Sunday morning and I’m in South Jamesport, N.Y., writing to a beachfront view.

We went first to a boutique, North Fork Apothecary, in Cutchogue, N.Y., for an opening of Glen Hansen‘s Full Moon Rising, a collection of photo-realistic paintings of crescent moons. The paintings were probably about 12 x 12 and so textured and real that they looked like the actual moon when photographed.

And as would befit the atmosphere of such a show, on a full moon night, the shop was decorated with candles and hosting tarot card readings.

From there we met up with Glen at a fundraiser and installation, “Baroque O Vision Redux,” he worked on with East End Arts at the Glen Hansen Studio in Southold. In its simplest terms, the installation featured 3-D printed “copper” pipe woven throughout the room. In reality, the reaching arms of the sculpture featured a variety of textures, sizes and outcroppings.

A conversation with the artist Bill Albertini revealed that the initial concept spurred from his drawings, and later additions and modifications came after he saw the space in the studio.

We had some wine and snacks and traveled with the piece, following the piping throughout the room and marveling at the different connections and ends.

And they had some delicious yellow peppers and cookies, and bread that looked hearty and welcoming, but most of the cheese had disappeared by our arrival. But what lingered behind was a mysterious jam that neither of us could quite place what it might be.

So, I tried it. It turned out to be a fruity jam with a zappy kick of ginger at the end.

“Sassy,” I said. “I don’t know what it is but it is sassy.”

If you want to experience more of the videos, I linked a couple of youtube shorts here and here.

From there we went to The Watershed where my friend, Glen and his friends would turn up after the event. We started with dinner, where my friend and I both had pasta. After dinner, we moved out to the bar where Jay Shepard entertained the crowd with covers, and witticisms, and incredible guitar playing. I’m listening to his Spotify as I type this. I’m told the Watershed has amazing pineapple margaritas which they make by soaking their pineapples in vodka. The glass vat of pineapple cores and vodka sits at the end of the bar.

I quickly discovered Jay was not eating the olives on his beverages so I started stealing them once the empty glasses returned to the bar.

After our dancing, cocktails and music, my friend and I returned to the room, where we read tarot cards in our own full moon celebration. According to the cards, we are indeed women on a journey.

My brain hurts

For the last week or so I’ve been struggling with some congestion– nothing serious, but my head and now my throat are swimming with phlegm regardless of whether I take my allergy meds, or cold medicine, until I hit the Sudafed. I’ve been working hard. I’m always working and sometimes I don’t know what counts as work. Do only billable hours count? Do marketing and networking hours count? How much time should I commit to my traditional publishing authors vs how much time am I “allowed” to work on my own creative projects?

I’ve been applying for jobs and working to build my business at Parisian Phoenix Publishing since I lost my job at Stitch Fix. I have not found a job, though I have substantially increased my business. Enough to live on? I don’t know. Unemployment will run out in a few weeks so I will find out. I guess.

I had the opportunity to visit with the woman who loved to ring the gong earlier this week. She arrived wearing my favorite Stitch Fix sweatshirt, the Midnight Society alumni hoodie. I also visited with Nancy Scott and filed another story with Armchair Lehigh Valley. Today “the dentist’s book” arrived in ARC format. (And the UPS driver opened the door to my house not realizing that the dog had access to the porch. Luckily, he was fast.)

My own novel has gone into design, so it looks like an April launch will be happening (official release date my birthday, May 20).

And The Teenager, who will only be the Teenager for about three months, built me an office space.

A lot of life is a leap of faith. I’m exhausted from the jump– speaking of which my fitness coach Andrew at Apex Training has been brutal in my workouts later– but sometimes you have to keep going.

I want to improve my web site, add more pages, keep content fresher. I want to gain more Substack readers. I want to make a business plan, somehow fund a larger marketing plan, write and promote more of my own books, continue my career as a journalist and transition into a memoirist and disability advocate as well.

24 hours later…

I meant to write something cohesive and intelligent and wrap this all up but it didn’t happen so here it goes as is.

Just get it out there

Since I lost my job at Stitch Fix in September, I’ve been working hard to build my business, Parisian Phoenix Publishing. And it’s not easy. I have a lot of long days and many things– like reading and creative writing– that used to be hobbies are not work.

I’m constantly balancing what to do with my time. Should I work on personal projects? Paying clients? Unpaying clients? Authors? How much time do I spend at Barnes & Noble versus Book & Puppet (my local independent bookstore)? How many titles should the publishing company release this year? How much freelance journalism should I pursue? How many events should I attend? How many self-published and/or local authors can I support by buying and reviewing their books, especially when only about 20% return the favor?

But one choice that was easy to make was attending last week’s Podcasting 101 community education class at Northampton Community College at their Fowler Center in Southside Bethlehem. My friend and trusty photographer Joan suggested it, with her musical background, my past obsession with podcasts and my hope to start recording miniaudio books.

We invited our partner-in-crime Gayle to join us beforehand at El Jefe for tacos, though we all got burrito bowls.

Podcasting 101

Our class was led by Demetrius Mullen, host of The Single Parent Conflict, and covered a basic overview of all of the elements of creating and uploading a podcast. He’s also a bit of a voice-over actor so imagine my surprise when I heard his “professional voice” versus his everyday one. I now understand what my daughter always meant when she said, “You’re using your journalist voice.”

I love exploring new topics and ideas in classes like this one. They are usually inexpensive and offer a safe environment to dip proverbial toes in the water. I’ve taken other community education classes– like vegan cooking (have the best cobbler recipe ever from that one) and six weeks of Irish Gaelic (my first foray into impractical languages).

At the most basic level, making a podcast involves six basic steps:

  1. Have the mindset. This means not finding excuses. It doesn’t matter if you record, edit and upload your podcast 100% from your phone if you have to, challenge yourself to do it. Accept that you will learn and grow and perhaps be embarrassed by your initial attempts, but keep in mind that it takes time to build momentum, market and develop a following.
  2. Gather your hardware. To simplify this, this means having somewhere to record and edit the podcast. It could involve computers, XLR cables, and microphones, but it also could be simply you and your phone. Demetrius’ advice was to invest your energy in learning and honing the content of your podcast before spending money on equipment that might not even be necessary or before you know exactly what would suit you best.
  3. Learn your software. If you want to have a decent podcast, you’ll have to learn to edit it. There are a variety of free or inexpensive options on the market. And if you’re an Apple user, you have Garage Band.
  4. Record. Sit down and record your content.
  5. Edit, save and export. Again, there are a variety of podcasting services from Buzzsprout to Spotify for Podcasters (formerly Anchor.fm), some with free and some with paid plans. All you need is an MP3 and an ability to read and follow directions.
  6. Upload. Once you have your MP3, release your creation into the universe.

Perhaps this will renew my interest in creating a show author interview show involving a craft topic, followed by an excerpt, short story or poem from the Parisian Phoenix catalog to demonstrate the principle. My larger goal is to use this as a training ground for audio editing and speaking for audio so that we can start production on Parisian Phoenix audiobooks.

Revisit and review of Grey’s Anatomy

When Grey’s Anatomy was new, I did the old school, pre-streaming thing and bought a few seasons on DVD, probably on deep sale at FYE.

I never really liked them— only liked some of the characters. One of the ones I liked least — Meredith Grey. And the medicine portrayed didn’t interest me either.

But for some reason I started watching Grey’s on Netflix and have re-watched the first two seasons.

And for some unknown reason— I decided to go straight from season 2 to season 19. I’m about to 15 minutes in, and I already know I still hate Meredith Grey. I mean, that’s harsh, but they are imaginary people so I can say that right?

But I got to see Dr. Webber, who seems completely ancient now. And Dr. Bailey looks gorgeous but doesn’t appear to be working to the hospital.

And there’s a new Dr. Shepherd but I have no clue who she is.

But this poor Dr. Griffith with her amazing hair seems to have a lot of potential.

So it will an interesting adventure to see where these characters have gone in the last 17 years.

Sometimes a random photo can make you smile

Today was emotionally exhausting.

It’s been an emotionally hard week– in the anxiety-inducing way. Not in a bog panic attack way, but in the quiet worry eating you up inside way.

Tomorrow is Friday and out of my five goals I set for this week: I achieved one, ignored one, did the bare minimum on another, devoted 90% of my attention to the one and the final… Somehow, I forgot and thought I would do it tomorrow all at the same time.

So, I think tomorrow morning I’ll head over to Panera, have a good cup of coffee and force myself to do an hour of work on the project that I’ve been procrastinating and two hours-ish on the one I could have done more on.

I went grocery shopping yesterday. It’s probably not what everyday people consider grocery shopping but I went to Grocery Outlet and used their $5 off a $25 order coupon on $50 worth of groceries, half of which were for the Teenager who now has an ear infection after attending her first college fraternity party Friday night.

I snapped this photo while I was there because Stitch Fix always had these cookies in the breakroom and I got my trainer Andrew kind of hooked on them.

It felt good to at least get a few things into the house.

When I arrived home, I got the auto insurance bill last night and was shocked to learn my premium had gone up another 400– so that now for The Teenager and I it would cost $3785 for six months of car insurance.

This morning I had to call my former insurance carrier and see if they could beat the rate from my current one and they dropped it to less than half of what it was, though I took an increase in homeowners to do it but I now have better coverage. But that was a relief.

I also got a letter last night from OVR– the state Office of Vocational Services– confirming that I did indeed qualify for services and that I was classified as “most significantly disabled.” That’s merely a classification among the disabled people applying for service, which are also people looking for help with finding a job, receiving training or acquiring assistive technology. So, it’s a category within another specific category in a way.

But there’s a certain dehumanizing that happens with paperwork and services– and it doesn’t matter whether you are applying for a job, for disability-related services or care, or for food stamps. Just like in grant-writing, people and programs and outcomes are reduced to statistics and outcomes. Things that are measurable. Not the personalities or the feel-goodedness.

But then I look back to that photo of the cookies in Grocery Outlet and I can’t help but smile, because these are the moments of life that seem magical.

Welcome February or “Wow, it’s been a month!”

I didn’t realize– or perhaps deep down inside I did– that I did not write in this blog at all in the month of January. I have written in the Parisian Phoenix blog, on my Substack, for the Lehigh Valley Armchair Substack, for Kiss and Tell magazine, for press releases and social media…

But not here.

I have spent much time applying for jobs, going on job interviews, and following up with second interviews, and working with my authors at our small publishing company, attending networking events, meeting with other writers and professionals, and grocery shopping at discount retailers like Grocery Outlet and the Dollar Tree.

(Grocery budget has been $25/week, but this week I splurged and bought a baker’s dozen bagels for $9.50 at Panera because they have a sale on Tuesday, and I used my CVS coupons and their sales to buy 2 boxes of KIND breakfast bars, a box of Grape Nuts and a box of Cocoa Krispies for $13.)

My personal favorite cheap meal this month has been these gnocchi from the Dollar Tree, served with a cream sauce I made with butter, lemon, and some artichoke hearts (using the oil they were marinated in). The artichoke hearts and the Barber Foods Chicken Stuffed with Broccoli and Cheese came from Grocery Outlet. The whole meal cost me about $3 per serving. And I used up some half and half that was on its last leg.

If it weren’t for car insurance for the teen and heat (I’ve been keeping the house at a balmy 60 degrees since I had to pay for $600 in furnace repairs in December), I have enough clients to keep me afloat indefinitely even after unemployment runs out in about six weeks. But the uncertainty of it all is hard. My biggest faux pas since my lay off was dropping the oil cap into the engine compartment of my car while topping off my fluids before a winter storm.

Luckily, good old Southern Candy and her son came to my aid and he fished it out for me– took him 45 minutes and the promise of the $50 cash I had in my wallet. I could hear my Dad laughing the entire time. I swear he’s been playing practical jokes on me from the afterlife with all of these little mechanical problems.

Like he’s checking to make sure I can take care of myself.

Sometimes, Daddy, I don’t know.

We had two snowstorms in January. During one of which, the first actually, one of the Teenager’s college friends spent the night. (Photo: Here they are at about 10 p.m. having a snowball fight with one of our neighbors, a high school friend of the Teen.) The College Friend hails from Los Angeles, so this was her first snow. And we bundled her up in home-knit hats and gloves and sent her out to shovel and play in my snow boots. Because Lord knows I am not going out in that if I don’t have to.

I drove over to the Bizzy Hizzy, the now nearly empty Stitch Fix warehouse, to show my daughter the old Freestyle and Pick carts that had been set out for the trash. The carts are laminated, corrugated cardboard so I imagined they deflated pretty badly in all the rain. I explained to her how we used to pick, and showed her the pencil cans we used to hold our water bottles and the heavy-duty page protectors that held the pack slips after installation of the Big Ass Fans blew them out of the carts. Three years, evaporated and erased.

I’m still working out with Andrew at Apex Training and meeting my strength goals even if I am failing at my weight goals. The Teen says I need to be more body-positive, but I know I am regularly showing more than 500 garbage calories into my body for the emotional sensation of it. And I also know that as someone with heart and mobility issues, being overweight is not helping.

In good news though, because I share so much about my journal both as someone with cerebral palsy and someone who finds strength training cool and empowering, several other members of my gym are now setting strength goals and strength training into their routines.

While visiting Nan the other day I got to meet a really cute dog. She’s a French sheep dog. Nan and her owner both told me her breed and now I don’t remember. I asked Siri and she suggested a Wheaten Terrier or a Goldendoodle and both of those are wrong. So, I googled French sheep dog breeds and it suggested a few and I immediately recognized the word “Briard.” And it is indeed a dog that would get stuck in briars.

And last week, the Echo City guys and I went out to Pints & Pies for burgers for the guys and pizza for me. It was a very tasty pizza. I have been dreaming of it and the cold Yuengling draft I had ever since.

The Mystical and the Magickal will find you

Today, the Teenager and I went to Eva’s Bargain Boutique (the metaphysical store at the Palmer Park Mall that I first mentioned here). I had written on my calendar (or the inside cover of my 2024 Clever Fox planner) that with any purchase at Eva’s today one could receive a free tarot reading.

The Teenager bought incense, an incense holder, candy, tea and who knows what else. And we left. And she said, “Mom, aren’t you getting anything?”

“I told myself I would buy whatever jumped out at me,” I said, “but only one pendant attracted me and I thought I might just be attracted to the color.”

“Show me,” she said.

I did. “What do you think?” I asked.

“You need it.”

“Does it have anything to it?” I asked.

“It’s stable,” she said.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s not like stable as in dead,” I said.

“Then I’d feel nothing.”

So, I bought it. Feeling slightly uneasy because I spent $20 I probably shouldn’t be spending. As we waited in line for our reading– which turned out to be a past-present-future three card oracle reading– I mentioned the spell candles.

“I really like the various candles with the crystals and the herbs,” I said, “but I feel like that’s cheating and the universe would want me to make my own.”

“For us that might be true,” The Teenager said, “but for the average person, their belief in the candle is enough.”

She helped me put my necklace on– the gold chain beside my silver choker with tiny amethysts. I don’t know how charged they are, but amethysts are supposed to bring calm. Silver and gold might not be the best fashion statement but I like the crystal themes.

Her turn arrived. The reader was Suburban Mom Medium and she had at least two decks with her. The one she used for us was The Woodlawn Wardens Oracle Deck. I fell in love with this deck. She told the Teenager that she was sorry that in the past The Teenager didn’t feel emotionally and/or physically safe, that the present has a lot going on but if she’s patient, good things are happening.

While The Teenager was getting her reading, an old work colleague from my ProJeCt days walked by. I haven’t seen her in years.

Then it was my turn.

My reading looked like this:

I laughed when I saw the rooster. It was my past. I have a bit of a kinship with roosters and chickens. She said I’d had a lot of issues with communication in my past and that is has caused me some trouble. Then, she said I have my head in a lot of different places all the time and I need to take more time for myself. And then there was the bat, which means I need to listen to my intuition.

With that as the closer, I had to show her my bat tattoo, which was my first tattoo.

The Teenager had gone back into the shop to report back to the owner that we were pleased with the reading. Then we continued traversing the mall. The arcade was packed so we didn’t get to play air hockey like we had hope. The Asian Gifts store gave The Teenager bad mojo so we went to the General Store for a coffee and chai. (“The chai was basically sweetened spicy milk,” she later said. “It was good but it was not chai.”)

I had the blueberry crumb latte with the sweetness cut back, and that was good, but not as hot as I would have liked. I enjoyed it though.

And the we went back to Eva’s to ask what my pendant was.

Angel Aura.

From CrystalGemstoneShop.com:

The truth behind aura quartz is that real aura quartz is made from quartz crystals. They aren’t glass, resin, or plastic. They are genuine quartz crystals. Therefore, they contain all the crystal healing properties of quartz. That is the bottom line and the most important aspect for those looking to work with aura quartz for their crystal healing endeavors. An added bonus of aura quartz is that it incorporates divine metals, which bring an added spectrum of crystal healing energies that make many pursue aura quartz’s properties for their own practice.

 Aura Quartz Name/TypeDivine Metal it’s Bonded With
Angel Aura Quartz Creation MeaningAngel Aura QuartzPlatinum & Silver
Crystal Gemstone Shop

I came home and researched it. Angel Quartz is a quartz with an opalescent shine. Aura quartz is a secondary quality quartz fused with gold or titanium to create unique colors. Crystal purists find any variety of Aura Quartz an undesirable freak, whereas the more new agey pagans find it a blend of two worlds.

I came home and followed my instincts to create an end of year ritual to calm me, connect me to my intentionals for the new year and serve as purification.

It used eucalyptus and lavender, involved blue candles, water and a resurrection plant. I posted it to TikTok (and YouTube).