It's been rather dramatic lately, with a capital " D." It's not the sort of petty drama that is easily backed away from, but a real issue that drew heat, anger, despair and at the end genuine dislike. It's taken me awhile to get the anger out of my body once I decided to leave the situation to it's major players and move in my own direction. I knew it had finally left when I woke up yesterday morning to realize my altars weren't right. They were no longer working with me. Something had shifted. Turns out it was me.
As I pulled out the key to my sea chest where all of my magic tools are stored, I could hear my mind turning around on itself trying to best fit the pieces that I would need. Once the lid got lifted and I found the pieces I thought I wanted, I realized they are not indeed what I needed. I kept digging rediscovering things I had forgotten; some of them tools, others reminders of workings gone by. . . a champagne cork with a date on it, a bag full of acorns, red velvet, black velvet, muslin and a collection of old pennies kept for their date. It was literally Mrs. Oddly's magic past. Under all of these things sat a crystal candle holder I had forgotten about. It rang as I unwrapped it from its silk. I put away the other candle holder I thought I wanted, washed the one I had been using and pulled out the remains of the shiny objects in my trunk to build a new altar.