Remember that...

 

My Dodo Flora...

 

FLORA...

Such a sweet girl!!!... Horrid and greedy AND, very hungry pirates were chasing her! Poor Flora was scrambing along, stumbling, and bruised, tiring, practically faining in terror, helpless, because dodos can't fly. What a good thing that I was passing overhead and saw the pitiful sight. I swooped down, snatched Flora up, and away I went, zooming along. The pirates were astounded. They couldn't believe what they had just seen, ~ a flash of purple cape and, then, their prey, the dodo, just DISAPPEARED! Of course, I was back at my castle in seconds. I calmed Flora with kind words in my soothing voice. She was so very grateful. She rubbed against my arm like a cat. I gave her a meal of sliced apples amd sunflower seeds, and made her a soft bed next to my hearth. She has been with me for hundreds and hundreds of years now, for no one dies of old age in the blessed lands of Faerie.

Maleficent Make Up...

 

My Cat Fiddle...

 

FIDDLE...

I found Fiddle, as a bedraggled, skinny kitten, in the dark streets of nineteeth century Paris, in Pigalle.

He was soaking wet and starving too, for a drizzling rain had fallen all night. I put him inside my robe. I could feel him shivering, poor, tiny baby. What he needed was a warm bowl of porridge, or stew, or soup. Fortunately, I found an inn that was open, it looked like, all the time. The innkeeper was glad to provide a meal, complete with wine, for me and a bowl of meaty soup for my cat. He grinned hugely, with popping eyes, when I paid with a gold coin, unsuspecting that that coin would turn to a dried leaf in the morning! (This is an ancient faerie trick, of course!) After we ate, Fiddle and me disappeared in a mist, outside the inn. He has been with me, living a pampered, blissful life, in the Land of Faerie, ever since.(I call him Fiddle because he has such a high, melodic voice, like a violin!)

A Darling Castle Creature...

    His name is Darko.

(My Easy And Most Excellent Recipe For Homemade Beef Stew) So, I was rummaging around my castle and it's environs...

Mmmm... Time to go inside and stir up the fire in the main hearth, in my large hall and in my sitting room, where my familiars, --- that lazy Diaval, the raven, and my cat Fiddle were snoozing in front of the remnants of the coals.. I swung the cauldron out. It was empty and thoroughly scoured since my house maid Grisella was one of the best sculleries around. 

   I was in the mood for making a savory stew. Do you want my recipe???... 

   HERE IT IS:

   In a large pot, --- you may use a crockpot, which is best for this, (you let it simmer all day, on low.) Place chopped beef stew meat, or a chopped up chuck steak, Add a couple of cans of diced tomatoes, a couple of cups of water, 1 cup of rich red wine (like Burgundy or Chianti) . Later you can add some tomato paste, if you like a richer broth. Season with a couple a cubes of beef boullion, to taste, and some black pepper, plus a bay leaf, which you'll remove later, and some dried oregano. Add cubes a raw red potatoes, don't peel them, all the flavor is in the skin. 

   Simmer, as I said, slowly, --- for hours and hours, stirring occasionally. Don't let the bottom of the pot burn! When the meat is tender add, cans of mixed vegetables, spinach, green beans, peas, sliced carrots and, perhaps, anything else you can think of adding,---  like, maybe, corn or garbanzo beans. Simmer more, till the vegs are hot. 

   Serve over some delicious and lumpy homemade mashed potatoes, or freshly made baking soda biscuits. 

   NOW, --- THAT'S A MEAL FIT FOR A WICKED QUEEN!!!... Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!... 

Thank You, Fans!!!...

 

"MALEFICENT IS MY FAIRY GODMOTHER," --- "She's Magic * Midnight Lace". 

(Applause, applause... She bows, gracefully.) 

Even the Devil was...

...once an angel.

...And, it can be a "good dark"...

 

Ugh, --- house cleaning, how boring!!!...

 

 

...And, cleaning a castle is EVEN worse!!!

Darling, she doesn't snore...

 

---It's her inner wolf howling.

Janet & Tamlin: an ancient faerie love story...

 

Tamlin or Tamlane is an old Celtic name that means "Faerie Knight".  Tamlin was said to haunt the well at Carterhaught Woods.  Janet was the only child of a widowed, wealthy lord. She was spoiled, and bored most of the time.

But, she was a lovely young woman and a dangerously curious and adventurous one.

 Of course, she started to hang around Carterhaught.  And, of course, she met the infamous Tamlin.

He was everything people said he was and that the serving women in her father's castle warned her of, --- handsome, captivating, sinister, but so sexy, ---- absolutely fascinating!  Janet could not, could not stay away from him.  She fell in love with Tamlin.  Eventually, she found that she was pregnant.  She was afraid to tell her father.  But, she did tell Tamlin.

He was quite sympathetic, for he too, was very much in love.  But, he told her, honestly, there was little hope for their love...  So little hope, - UNLESS Janet was very, very, very brave.

"What, --- what???," Janet said.  "Tell me!!!"

"It's the ONLY way!!!...You must do exactly what I say," Tamlin told her, " --- EXACTLY!!!"

The look in Tamlin's beautiful golden eyes told her that this was a terribly urgent matter.

"This Hallomas is the time of the seven year tribute to hell that the faeries are required to make.  They do not want to sacrifice one of their own so I have been chosen as the offering."

"What?  But, I thought you were a faerie!," Janet said.

"No, no, my darling Janet.  I am a human in the disguise of a faerie. I am really the third son of a great lord. I was captured years ago by evil faeries while I was hunting alone in these woods.  

But, here is what you must do...  You must go to the path that lead out of Carterhaught Woods at midnight on All Hallow's Eve.  The faerie queen and her company will be passing by there on the way to the sacrifice site.  I will be riding a white horse, and the last in their procession. 

You must boldly approach and run to me, drag me down from my saddle and fiercely hold onto me.  Do not, - DO NOT let me go, - NO MATTER WHAT, for the faerie queen will try her best to get you to release me!...  As you love me, Janet, do not let me go!...  HOLD ME FAST AND IF YOU DO I WILL BE RELEASED FROM MY BONDAGE TO THE FAERIES AND I WILL BE YOUR'S!  Do you understand fully, Janet?"  Tamlin's eyes were so intense.

Janet shook her head.  "Yes, yes, -YES!!!  I WILL DO EXACTLY AS YOU SAY, Tamlin!!!"

Tamlin nodded, grimly.  And, he left.

At midnight on All Hallows Eve Janet went to Carterhaugh Woods. She waited patiently in the brush on the side of the path.  She was trembling with fear and anticipation, BUT, very, very, very determined to save Tamlin.  She saw the magnificent faerie procession passing.  She saw the last rider, Tamlin, sitting dazed, on his white horse.  Swiftly, she jumped out of hiding and snatched Tamlin down from his saddle.  

She held onto him with all her might, burying her face in his shoulder.

And then, the faerie queen was beside them, staring down at them in great anger.  She screeched, and Tamlin became an enormous bear who tore at Janet with teeth and claws.  He positively shredded her skin, but Janet held Tamlin fast.  Then, the faerie queen shrieked again and Tamlin became a huge serpent who began to squeeze the life out of Janet; she gasped, hardly able to breathe, but she would not let him go.  

Then, finally, the faerie queen yelled tremendously loud and Tamlin became a red hot bar that burned Janet's hands and arms raw, searing her flesh. BUT, Janet still held tight to him.

The wicked faerie queen roared in anger, because her powerful spells had faded and there, still in Janet's arms, was the now human Tamlin.  All Janet's horrific injuries were immediately healed because they had only been illusions.  Janet threw her cloak around the shuddering Tamlin, and looked up at the faerie queen.

"YOU, YOU STUPID, ANNOYING GIRL, HAVE TAKEN FROM ME THE FAIREST KNIGHT IN ALL MY COMPANY!!!," the faerie queen screamed, knowing that true love is the strongest magic there is.  "I WISH I HAD PLUCKED OUT HIS BEAUTIFUL EYES WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!!!"  

And, with that said, she and her company disappeared in a mist, leaving Janet and Tamlin alone on the path.

As Persephone said to Hades...

 

What is the Wild Hunt???...

 

The Wild Hunt has been known for centuries in Europe, especially in the Celtic Lands.

In England it is supposedly led by the Devil, or Old Nick, Beelzebub, Satin, The Arch Deceiver, --- and all his many names...  The Devil brings his hounds on the Hunt, of course, his red eared, red eyed hell hounds, and they have many names too: the Devil's Dandy Dogs, the Gabriel Rachets, the  Yeth-hounds or Yell-hounds, the Whistlers, the Dartmoor Pack, the Whisht Hounds...  They were also called the Lyme Hunt...

The "Anglo Saxon Chronicle" of 1127 says that after February of that year people saw a group of charging dark riders on dark horses traveling at an enormous speed behind fierce black hounds with staring eyes and panting green tongues.  Around Halloween in the 1940s, around Trauton, England, the same type of thing was sighted.

In Dartmoor and Cornwall, the spectral hounds are said to be under the control of huge headless riders.  The Christian church of the time warned people to change their bad ways or the Devil and his slavering, fire breathing horses and yelping, baying dandy dogs, one stormy night, would hunt them down and drag them, screaming and kicking out wildly, to Hell.

Lewis Spence, in his book, "British Fairy Origins", wrote that the hounds of the Wild Hunt were sometimes called Sky-yelpers and that they were headless and raced high in the air.  [Now, - they yelped without heads and mouths???... Hmmm...]  If the pack went back and forth over a house a death was sure to occur.

For humans, worst thing about seeing the spectral Wild Hunt was the fear that they would be caught up in it, either to become one of the hunters or to be the prey.  The spell of the Wild Hunt would not be broken until the first rays of dawn were seen.  A few remnants of legends tell of people fighting off the Wild Hunt, but, then, the Hunt returned the next night, and the next, and the next, to overcome them and eventually bear them away.

OOOOOOoooo, --- That Pooka!!!...

 

***THE POOKA IN IRISH FOLKLORE

Pooka pronounced poo-ka is from the old Irish ‘Puca, which means ‘goblin’

There are many variations of the spelling Pooka some of which are Puca, Plica, Phuca,Pwwka, Puka or Pookha all of which are totally acceptable. It is possible that the origin of the word Pooka may come from the Scandinavian word Pook or Puke meaning ‘nature sprit’.

What is a Pooka?

A Pooka is a shape-shifter and can take any form it chooses but usually it is seen in the form of a dog, rabbit, goat, goblin or even an old man. Traditionally a Pooka is seen as a dark, sleek horse with a long wild flowing mane and luminescent golden eyes.

An important thing to always remember about a Pooka is that they have the power of human speech and when inclined make great sport of those they talk to as they like to embellish the truth.

In Ireland, the Pooka seems to be the most feared Faerie possibly because it appears only at night and enjoys creating havoc and mischief. We feel this is doing the Pooka an injustice because there are no recorded incidences of a Pooka actually causing a human any harm.

Where can you find a Pooka?

Pooka’s can be found in any rural location, every county in Ireland has its very own Pooka. They like open mountainous areas so that they can run free while in horse form.

Many small mountainous lakes and springs in Ireland are called ‘Pooka Pools’ or ‘Pollaphuca’, which means Pooka or Demon hole. Some of these are found at the sources of major Irish rivers such as the Liffey that runs through Dublin or the River Bann, which is the longest river in the north of Ireland that runs through Coleraine in County Derry.

Over the last thousand years Christians have changed the name of some of the Pooka Pools to St. Patrick’s Wells.

Pooka superstitions & Irish customs

There are a lot of superstitions and customs that are still observed today in Ireland regarding the Pooka and these vary depending on which region you happen to find yourself in.

Although there seems to be a common ground when you talk about a Pooka some of the stories are alike and just differ on the minor details.

The drunken horse ride home

When a Pooka is in horse form he tends to have fun by inviting a rider to jump on his back. This usually happens when the rider has had a little too much to drink and is making his weary way home from the pub. Thus starts the wildest trip the rider will ever know for the Pooka loves to terrify the rider with its great prowess jumping over hedges and rocks and making death-defying leaps. Come the grey dawn the rider is thrown off the horses back and left trembling but none the worse from the night’s events to find his own way home.

This is maybe where the their reputation slips a bit as while on a wild night out like this they do tend to run through crop fields and knock down fences without a care.

A conversation with a Pooka

Another thing the Pooka love, as with all us Irish people, is to chat and will happily stop and ‘shoot the breeze’ with you, sometimes giving great advice and making exceptional prophecies.

In some rural areas you will see houses that will have a bench on the right side of the door and the gate post on the right will be smooth whereas on the left there will be a rockery or some sort of uncomfortable mound. This is because a good Pooka will always sit on the right and the more mischievous sprite will favour the left.

They tend to use the same opening gambit to introduce himself it will be something like, “You are new here I think. Many years ago I used to live in this house..” One of his favorite topics is how the family lost its fortune or was swindled out of their money and lands.

The odd thing about a conversation with a Pooka is that you may have sat and chatted to him for over an hour but he will suddenly disappear without saying good-bye, they never says good-bye, and you will be left with the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing for sure if the past hour was real. They’ll never leave any sign that he was there.

The Pookas Share

Mainly associated with Samhain (31st Oct) and November 1st is considered Pookas Day. This coincides with the harvest and the traditional customs that when the harvest is being brought in the reaper must leave a few stalks behind. This is called the Pookas share and must be left to appease the Pooka because we for one would not like to incur his wrath.

It is said that when we see the rain falling on a sunny day, which it does a lot in Ireland, the Pooka will definitely be out and about that night.

Also berries that have been killed by a frosty overnight should never be eaten as it is the Pookas spit and piss that is on them and that would render them poisonous, or at least, terrible tasting...OOOooo!!!

I LOVE a moonbath!!!...

 ...That's how I keep a beautiful smooth and pale bluish green skin!!!... 💋. (Here's some mermaids moonbathing.)

I'm proud to be considered by many as the most evil of female villains, --- and often the most evil of villains of both sexes!!!...

 Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!... 👿💥😡😈💪💋💋💋...

...Few can match me in intelligence, creativity, ability, --- and downright cussedness!!!... 

Evil queens are...

 

                                ...the princesses who were never saved.

Do you ever...

 

I am so sympathetic with dragons, --- the enormous sweethearts!!!...

 💘💗💖💥💪💋💋💋...

(Me, above, --- feeling exceptionally strong in my dragon form.)

Don't worry...

 

...Don't worry if you're making waves simply by being yourself. The moon does it all the time.

"Saying nothing sometimes says the most"...

 

She reads Edgar Allen Poe for the love notes...

 

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!....

Yes, yes, --- YES!!!...

 

Snarky wickedness is such fun!!!...

 

***SNARKY, SNARKY, SNARKY!!!... 👿💪😈😡💋💋💋!!!...

The Great Lakes Medieval Faire is up & running!!!...

 

YES, --- it IS!!!...  In Geneva, Ohio, on the weekends, (Sat. & Sun.) of July 10 - August 15th, 11a.m. to 7 p.m.  Check out their website.

After the nasty covid and all that depressing stuff that went with it that some dull downer folks 😡😠😟said would NEVER end, ("We're all gonna get the CO-vid and DIE!!!... We're DOOOMED!!!") --- love and persistence conquers!!!... To all my dear old friends and to new ones at the Faire, much love. I will not be there this year, but perhaps NEXT... After all, love CONQUERS whatever the poopers say... Who gives a 💩 about them???... heh-heh-heh!!!... 💖💖💖

Maleficent's Daughter...

 

King Arthur married Guinevere on Midsummer's Day, in history...

 

Being Maleficent, --- Empress of the Bad Faeries, I am immortal...

 

   And, sooo,,, I have seen many. many Midsummer's Eve's. This one, 2021, is just one the those multitudes... I will be out & about tonight, flying over hill and dale, over town and city... Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I'm NOT there... 

   Like another Empress, --- Goddess, actually, --- Hecate, Empress Of The Witches, I can be noticed by animals, those familiars, who are aware of my passing by on my black wings, --- my magnificent huge and powerful wings, the color of midnight. 

   HAPPY MIDSUMMER'S EVE, DARLINGS!!!... HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!... 

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