Loki Limericks

With Loki you’ll never be bored,

For his tongue is as sharp as a sword.

And his heart is pure gold,

While his humor is bold,

And of mischief he’s always the lord.

I just explained, in a general way (meaning on social media) that all this “woo” stuff I’m doing is (1) a serious study, (2) also a deliberate application of a homeopathic dose of “madness” that keeps the rest of me sane, and (3) it’s enjoyable and fun as hell.

I am sheltering from the Mendocino Complex Fires in a completely empty apartment, in a region with better air quality. I am here with my four cats, a sleeping bag, and my computer to keep me company. Without a table or chair, it is hard to work on my book. The cats frequently burst out into a “wild rumpus” (at all hours) and thunder through the flat with games of chase and hide and seek. I worry they are waking the newborn baby (and parents) downstairs. I also worry that they are waking me, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

Except write limericks to a beloved god in my current polytheistic pantheon:

Our Loki’s the coolest of gods,

Though other folk think us quite odd.

We love his flame-hair,

And don’t-mess-with-me glare,

And his tricks we will always applaud.

I suppose limericks are one way to beseech and propitiate a god of fire as well as mischief. And it’s a lighter touch than “please save my house, please save my neighbor’s house, please save everyone’s house, please save the poor woodland creatures, even that poor lame fawn who is finding it harder and harder to follow its mother through my yard…”

Our Loki loves cinnamon sweets,

And chocolate and other fine treats.

We can pour him some mead,

Or bake bread that we knead,

But we always make sure that he eats!

Yeah, so, Norse gods. To be specific, I am currently “working with” Frey and Freya of the Vanir, and Gerda and Loki who are Jotun (though as Odin’s blood brother, Loki is also counted as Aesir). When I started to get into this Norse phase, I joined The Troth because it’s an “inclusive heathenry” organization that has a specific and stated policy against racism and other forms of discrimination. But I don’t seem to be a heathen by their definition. (And The Troth is not exactly supportive of Lokeans.) I think Raven Kaldera’s “Northern Tradition Paganism” may be a decent umbrella term for me, at least for now.

After years of being quite smitten with another tradition entirely, the message came “go to YOUR ancestors now,” and so I am trying that very thing, in various ways and with many kinds of interesting results. But I lack a “kindred.” There’s a Facebook group that is the closest I’ve come, but gosh, I sure wish I could find people in my area.

Except “my area” is currently on fire. Lots and lots of fire.

Loki's_flight_to_Jötunheim

Are you a fellow traveler? Are you fleeing disaster? Let me know you’re out there.

####


Adding this one:

Our Loki is one sexy guy.

He’s more Pan than Het’ro or Bi.

With god spouses galore,

He’s up for lots more,

And none of us even ask why!

Advertisements

A “Meagre Palace of Midgard”

The title of this blog is a phrase cribbed from Tom Hiddleston’s star turn as “Marvel Loki” at the 2013 Comic Con, the video of which continues to fill me with geeky glee. I go to it often for amusement and solace, just as I also turn to Puddles’ Royals cover,  assorted cat videos, and Liam Lynch singing “Let’s Make Love in the Third Dimension.”

The above makes it hard to find a date, by the way. These types of “special interests” just aren’t covered in OK Cupid algorithms. Just saying.

So… I have a woodshop on my property. That’s meagre, right? For the last few months, a surplus of neighbor’s cats have called it home. And though still inhabited by the food bowls of the two most feral felines, of late I have been a-pondering the fate of this quite serviceable structure. I don’t have the money to turn it into a tiny house and I’m not sure zoning would permit it anyway. I could turn it into my very own office, but at present I am client-less. It needs insulation, sheetrock, and painting at very least. But it does have electricity! And a view of the lake.

(I wasn’t kidding about living near a lake. See? There it is!)

Clear Lake, CA
By Federico Pizano, Sept. 14, 2013. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license

In my mind’s eye, I see a Tiny Temple. A Pagan Haven. A place to gather kindreds (of the most inclusive kinds). If I build it, will they come? My experience has taught me that trick never works, but the doing of it might keep me out of trouble and off the streets. Plus I could alarm the neighbors by painting Loki runes on the side… (I have wonderful neighbors though, and they already know I’m a bit strange.)

Because I am a sucker for creative futility (I’m a parent, for heaven’s sake!), I probably do need to rebrand the woodshop as an architectural folly and dedicate it to the array of deities who have captured my attention. And then invite someone over for tea…

What else have I got to do? Like I said, it’s hard to find a date… a pagan, Lokean, long-haired, clean-shaven, non-smoking, magical, witty, slightly subby date…

Are you a fellow traveler? Lemme know! And if you have an older brother…

####

 

 

Magic and Animism in Lake County, CA

New to the area, several months ago I called the studio line of our local community radio station, KPFZ 88.1 FM, and asked the Pagan World Views hosts this burning question, “Where is everyone?” They couldn’t exactly tell me.

So pagan humans being scarce or well-hidden in these here parts, I began to greet the mountain, the lake, the ancestors and wights, plants and animals, and “the spring that feeds us” on a daily basis. I believe we’re getting to know each other (I had a similar practice on Hawai’i Island). I adopted two more cats, Freya and Varda, which annoyed my first two, Popoki and Niblet. I noted with sadness the closing of a rock and mineral store in Lucerne. I kept working on my fantasy novel, The Dire Deeds of the Guild of Ornamental Hermits, a tale of mid-life magic. I tried creating a “fragrance-free” pagan meet-up group which attracted absolutely nobody and only cost me money.

And witch camp in the redwoods out as mosquito repellent causes me to drool and lose my words — not helpful when trying to make new friends or attempting magical utterances.

Sigh.

So besides listening to podcasts such as Down at the Crossroads, what’s a chemically sensitive (i.e. poisoned), socially isolated, solo practitioner of non-denominational magic to do?

After consultation via divination, the deities of varied genders have decreed, “go forth and blog!” So here I am, a “Lady of the Lake,” with a tree-obscured view of Clear Lake out my living room window.

And here you are, a reader! Well met! What sayest thou?

Charmed_A_Fairy_Under_Starry_Skies,_by_Luis_Ricardo_Falero

“Go forth and blog!”