Magnesite And Mummy’s Girls…


Nope. Not a cauliflower. Or a brain – although the complex folds and crevices found within Magnesite mirror the structure of our brains where our emotions and intelligence reside. Not unsurprisingly then, Magnesite is wonderfully beneficial for the emotional health of our mind, balancing the brain’s hemispheres and clearing the pathways for greater emotional intelligence and understanding.


It is a complex crystal – it can show demanding people how to step back and make room for others, whilst also teaching self love, giving you the strength and inner resources to deal with challenging situations and remain a source of support to those around you.


Magnesite teaches you the value of past life lessons that may not have always been pleasant, giving you the ability to view the information with a balanced mind, accept and move on. It calms and soothes, lending strength to nervous people and overcoming irritability.

A useful crystal for healing, perhaps because of its resemblance to the seat of human consciousness, Magnesite can help with cramps, bone disorders and temperatures and as it contains a high level of magnesium, it aids its absorption within the body, preventing poor memory, tiredness and reduced learning skills.


It took me a little while to learn how to live with four cats, adjusting after sixteen years with my beloved Walter being my only cat. He was kind, loving, even-tempered – a wonderful introduction to the joy of being a cat person for my partner too. Then, after Walter passed, I spent nine days without a cat until Princess Charlotte arrived in our lives to rule us with her dainty paw.

She was an adorable, demanding baby, who left her feline mummy far too soon, but decided I would make a passable substitute.


Lily followed soon after, primarily as Alex decided he needed a kitten too. Recently, although Lily has always been polite to me, she has come to the realisation that I am actually quite a nice person and has taken to sitting on my knee for cuddles, purring and kneading.

Ting and Tooty, our bonus hedge find kittens, love me – Ting to the point of obsession, gazing up at me with adoration apparent in her slightly crossed blue eyes and crying piteously when I leave her.


Tooty chooses to show how much she loves me at her own convenience, generally at about three o’clock, by sitting on my chest and breathing heavily into my face.


It makes for a tempestuous household at times, rather how I imagine living with four teenage girls must be… they all have their own likes and dislikes, preferred flavours of catfood, special sleeping places, pre-arranged times for individual attention… but they all like to sleep with me, in on or around the bed.


Each and every one of them are individual and unique – all are Mummy’s Girls! And do you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way!


31404248_232877170791031_6125451562639687680_nThe nature of knowledge is a curious thing, I find. For a start, how do you define it? The dictionary definition is: “Facts, information and skills acquired through experience or education.” I quite like the word “Gnosis” too, from the Greek, meaning knowledge of the Divine.

Taxi drivers in London have The Knowledge, a detailed mental map of the streets that they can draw on instantly to deliver their passenger to the right address. Is this still valid in the age of GPS, statnavs and Google maps? I believe so… no electronic aid can replace the mental images that are layered in your own brain.

For example – I’m rubbish at giving directions… if asked, I will wave my arms vaguely and say “Over there… somewhere…” but I could definitely show the enquirer the way there. I might not know road names but I tend to navigate via shops and landmarks… possibly why I have no sense of direction in the dark…

My partner says I know a lot of things. His hedge shears weren’t working properly, so I said they sounded like they had a blockage in the fuel line. He cleaned it – problem solved. Now. I must emphasise I am in no way mechanically minded (if it doesn’t work my first remedy is to give the item a little punch… don’t try this with people) but I am practical and I do have a good memory. Thus, out of the mountain of rammel, junk and rubbish that is my brain I do sometimes manage to pull out the occasional shining crystal…

Other forms of knowledge speak to me of muscle memory. It was my partner’s birthday recently, so we went out for dinner and a few drinks afterwards. There was a pool table in one of the pubs we visited – we used to play a lot when we first met – so we had a couple of games. What amused me though was the fact that Alex was surprised by my not unreasonable ability… sign of a misspent youth, so I’ve been told! He just didn’t think that it would be the sort of thing I knew anything about.

The key to knowledge is an open mind, a willingness to learn – or at least listen. It’s always a pleasure to learn something new from any source and feel good about that achievement. I suppose ultimately my point is that knowledge is never finite… It is an amorphous, ever-growing creature…

Jesus In A Dustsheet…


When I was younger I had the good fortune to visit several countries on holiday with my mother – I have fond memories of all of these, but perhaps the country that made the most lasting impression was Israel.

My mother, her friend and myself stayed in a hotel in Tel Aviv. We’d done the whole tourist trail thing, wandered through the ancient streets of Jerusalem (the Arab Quarter too, after curfew, but that’s a story for another time… ) walked the Mea Shearim, followed the Stations of the Cross, floated in the Dead Sea, marvelled at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and paid a respectful visit to the Temple Wall.

It was our last evening before we left for home so we had enjoyed a meal out at a local restaurant and were just sauntering slowly back to the hotel. A commotion across the road drew my attention – a young man, dishevelled, thin, tanned ribs showing, wearing nothing but a pair of underpants, was struggling to remove the cover from a car.

Long blond hair flapped about his face and he paused to rub one slender hand through his full beard, swaying so alarmingly that a passing elderly couple stopped to help him. He clasped his hands together and thanked the couple, so I would assume, as I was still watching from across the road.

My mother and her friend looked back to see where I was, and knowing that I had been deeply moved by my visit to places like Jesus’ tomb and Bethlehem, were watching me with amusement. The older couple, feeling that they had helped this poor man by removing the cover from his car, began to walk away.

However. The young man began to wrap the dust sheet around himself, in the style of biblical robes, draped across one shoulder and between his legs like a loincloth. You all know what I thought…

Mum! Look! Could it… shouldn’t we help him?! What if… what if… it’s Him?!”

By this time, the young man had gathered his makeshift robes about himself and reeled off down the street, stopping every so often to peer earnestly into the faces of other people, hands outstretched imploringly…

Well. My mother and her friend fell about laughing … and upon reflection, as an adult, I can see that he was probably just some stoned hippy bloke begging for busfare. Or something.

But I was quite a devout child and even though my belief system nowadays is more of the Omnist variety, I still can’t help wondering… what if…


Merlinite And Magical Cats…

31054970_229672977778117_8099424677979488256_nBig clue in the title here… this crystal is another one that is very much of two worlds, a duality to its nature that can show both light and dark, spiritual and physical.


Not unsurprisingly, given its name, it has a strong association with astral travel back to Arthurian times (haven’t tried this… no central heating…)

But seriously, it is a very powerful crystal to use in bringing balance and harmony into your life, using information from lives long ago to redress the balance in your present life.


Merlininte can heal hurt from past lives which is affecting your present state of being and has often been used in shamanic and ritual magic. It encourages an awareness of the spiritual and can be used to develop psychic skills. Whilst opening the mind to the concept of unity between body and soul it will also bring the quality of acceptance, you recognise the resolution you have been given and move on.


Cats are walkers between worlds… a magical manifestation whose potency was first recognised when a primitive cat caught that very first mouse which was bothering that first prehistoric lady by eating her grain stores.


Such cleverness, grace and agility was rewarded with a place by the fire, food and comfort. Ever since then, these magical felines have thrown in their lot with us, to care, share and guide. Sometimes.


Friendly family pet by day, creature of sunshine, light and warmth… prowling horror by night, sharp of tooth and claw.


This duality of nature is what gives cats part of their magical quality, from the largest tiger to the smallest housecat. They hold our hearts and the magic of the world between those dainty, furry paws…


Hunger (Adult Content)


He hungered. He burned. He – lusted. No other word for it.

Unsatisfied by his pretty, clever wife he took to late nights and sleazy pubs, ever on the lookout, the hunt, seeking that special something that would soothe the ache in his loins.

His wife didn’t know – how could she, occupied as she was with their children, their perfect home, their lovely life, their status.

He wanted them all and so he took them, and yes, they were willing enough. The shy and the wanton – both could be bought for the right price and often it was no more than a couple of kind words. Behind the pub, dark corners in slimy side streets, their own rooms or flats – he wasn’t bothered, searching as he was for something to stop the hunger.

He sank himself between the loins of thin, hungry young men who writhed beneath him like buckets of eels; women, drawn to him by the unspoken promise of something dark in his eyes. He rubbed and fawned and licked and chatted – still he burned.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day, he found he couldn’t face the faintly accusing face of his wife and thought he would spend a pleasant hour or so fishing in a pub he had noticed earlier on in the day. Tucked away down a cobbled alley, it seemed cheery enough with an old-world ambience and plenty of cosy booths for an intimate moment.

He collected his drink and turned towards the formerly empty booth he had chose, only to find it taken.

And how… the voluptuous woman was, at best, kindly described as overflowing. Pillowy breasts threatened to spill from her low cut, frilled top. Above her cavernous cleavage, a wide, generous face, blue eyes with heavy lashes and plump, succulent lips that were ripe for biting.

He inserted himself onto the bench next to her and placed a hand on the broad, sumptuous flesh of her thigh – such legs, wide, cushiony. All at once it became the most urgent priority, the most important thing in the world that he should bury himself in her folds of flesh, grasp her and inhale her.

Later – but not much later, they hadn’t got beyond a mutual sigh of consent between sucking kisses – in her bed he rolled and fondled and fumbled, sweating and slippery as she moaned above him, beneath him, around him.

He pushed between her eager legs and pushed. He pushed and thrust and at the height of his pleasure – nothing. He awoke, it seemed, only moments later to find himself in unfamiliar, yet strangely recognisable surroundings.

A dark corridor stretched before him, ridged and heaving, pulsating with every step he took. He put a hand out to the wall, strangely slick and warm, and jerked back sharply as it shuddered beneath his touch. All around him in the stifling warmth, the walls, ceiling, floor heaved and contracted while a low moaning filled his ears.

He wiped his hand against his leg and began to run.

Sad Cats And Mournful Mummys…

“Perhaps if I just wait a little longer… “

Well, that’s it. Another Easter holiday over – Alex was back from university and it was wonderful to see him and have him home, although the time passed too quickly. I saw him off at the train station, doing my best to choke back tears… ( I do cry a lot anyway… even adverts can set me off…) and returned home to a row of accusing faces.

Ting and Charlie had actually started running towards me, but when they saw I was by myself, they stopped. Abruptly.

Oh. He’s gone again… might just go and check this corner of the garden – just in case…”

Ting is particularly persistent in her search for Alex, looking in completely ridiculous places that he wouldn’t even hide in if he were here – like behind the rubbish bin… in my handbag… the laundry basket… behind the books on the shelves… and all the time she will maintain a constant chat:

Oh – not under here…wahhh! So sad… perhaps here? Naa-oohhh! Where’s he gone, Mummy?!”

Sad sunshine Siamese… 

Charlie reclaims Alex’s empty bedroom as her throne room and gradually the cats come to accept that he really won’t be back for a while. And Lily starts bringing the mice in again….

Uh-oh the sensible one’s gone off – better start providing for the older couple, they just don’t have a clue…”

Motherhood is a funny old thing. To be honest, I never expected to be a mother and I hated being pregnant… what is it about the pregnancy bulge that gives random strangers leave to come up and lay their hands on you?! But once your children are out in the world, it’s a constant worry… an ache… like prodding a gap in your mouth where a tooth used to be with your tongue.

Before Alex left, we were waiting at the bus stop to catch the bus into town for his train when a young woman we both knew who had recently had another baby, the older child now being about three, stopped to chat.

We talked about our respective children’s doing, an older lady overhearing and joining in the conversation – her son was in his last year at university – and we all shared that one common thing. Just how much we will and do miss our children when they have to go away, and I felt a lovely moment of unity, joined with these other mothers, proud of our children, missing them, yet supporting them all the way.

In conclusion then, on behalf of mothers everywhere (and their sad cats) I would like to end on an extremely relevant message…

Will you PLEASE remember to text me when you get there so I know you’re all right!”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Tektites And Tabby Cats.

It is a crystal. Really. Not a …whatever you were thinking…

Something from the depths of space… containing echoes of black holes, galaxies and meteors. Tektite. An unassuming crystal to look at, but my very own piece of the Universe with which to conjure…

Tektites were made when meteorites hit the Earth and send debris back up into the atmosphere – the impact and heat melt and fuse pieces of earth and rock, that have a brief moment in time visiting the outer limits and then returning to Mother Earth, bringing a glimpse back from Far Beyond.

Tektite is used to bridge the gap between humanity and knowledge, enabling us to accept and retain the wisdom received from these Higher realms. It is also said to enhance the absorption of healing energies and open our channels of communication with other dimensions.

Doesn’t look much better with a different background… sorry… 

It’s a wonderful crystal to use for expanding consciousness and working towards your own spiritual advancement. Tektites are said to strengthen the aura and speed up the physical healing process and essentially as a crystal between the worlds they can help us to link the physical and spiritual.

I recently watched a television programme where advances in technology had allowed a team of archaeologists to re-examine some of the artefacts that were buried with Tutankhamun; most particularly a dagger that had been smelted from iron that had been extracted from a meteor.

Great reverence was attached to this dagger in ancient times, and of course I happen to share my life with four other very important and revered Egyptian symbols – cats.

Number One cat is most definitely Charlie, and as regular readers know, she is a tabby cat. Here’s another picture anyway…

“I’m just beautiful… “

Now, tabby cat markings are allegedly the oldest cat “design” in history, thought to have originated in Africa, with the little Sand Cat. There are variations within this colouration, for example, my old cat, Walter, was a grey tabby while Madame La Princesse is brown.

Most tabbies have an “M” marking on their foreheads and there is a wealth of folklore behind this fact, from it being a symbol of honour from Mary, Jesus’s mother, for saving Him from a snake to it being a blessing from Mohammed, the imprint of his thumb. Even Lily, a supposedly black cat, has a shadowy “M” on her little forehead…


The word “tabby” itself is thought to derive from a mediaeval Latin word, “attabi”, meaning “fabric” and while we no longer really use the material – I think it was a kind of watered silk – the word “tabby” has remained.

As has the cat. Indeed, tabby cats and their variants are world-wide, from the Scottish wildcat to the Pallas cat to the Abyssinian… bridging gaps across continents with their stripy fur and ineffable cattishness.

My little cat – she may be the smallest but her attitude would grace the largest Bengal tiger. And of course she is extremely beautiful too!




Hers was the religion of flower and tree, beetle, bird and dew. In every raindrop she saw the smile of the Goddess, in the curve of every branch, the arms of the Mother.

Barefoot, she wandered through the forest, rejoicing in the feel of moss and twig underfoot. Hers were the old ways, lessons learned when the world was young and still learning itself.

The earth sang and thrummed beneath her feet, the wet and the glory filled with a buzzing life, an energy that could be found in the curl of every leaf, a wholeness in every pebble, every rock; the sometimes wildness and cruelty tempered by the knowledge of a never-ending cycle of life and renewal.

She saw the birds hatch their young and the wild cats nurse their kits, hidden away in dens. She witnessed death, brought by swift fang and slashing claw and accepted it as part of the Mother’s ever-turning wheel; watching as remains turned to bones and scraps, carried away by worms, to be returned to the warm wet earth.

She lived in harmony, balance, showing them how to take no more than they needed, always giving thanks and gratitude and love to the Mother.

Then others came.

From far away, they came with crushing foot and rending hand, ripping and tearing the very heart from the land she loved, the trees she cared for. They came, bringing strange bright gods from hot dusty lands, gods that conquered and devoured.

She watched and wept as they cut down the trees, chained her land in stone and iron. People fled, animals died, and there was no renewal, no honour.

Exhausted, depleted, afraid and angry, she fled, deeper into the wild places where the savage side still dwelt. Finally she found what she was looking for, a rent, a natural cleft in the wet red earth.

She crawled inside, deeper and deeper, till the blood pounded in her ears, her head sang and the arms of the Mother enfolded her in the warm red earth. She closed her eyes and waited.

Waited to be reborn.




Walkies! Great! Let’s go! What? In the car? All right then… but wait. Stop. Please. Where are you going? Don’t leave me! Gone.

Dark. Alone. Afraid. Where am I? Home. Want to go home – what’s that? Frightened. Noisy. Run. Run. Run.

Hurt. Paws hurt. Tired. Alone. Afraid. Hungry. Afraid. Sad.

Dark. So tired. Sleep.

Gerrout! Go on! Gerrout of it!”

Run. Oh – that hurt! Run. Lost. What did I do?

Bad dog!”


Tired. Frightened. Alone. Sad. I’m not a bad dog. Just old.

What – run!

Shouting, throwing things and not to play.

Here – quiet, lie down…


The old dog jumped, startled awake at the gentle touch on his head, and struggled to sit up on tired old haunches, ready to run at a moment’s notice on cracked sore paws.

It’s all right, boy, don’t be scared…”

The young man reached out a hand to the old dog who looked up into his face; and consideringly, carefully, he lifted his paw and put it in the young man’s hand.


Silver And Sweet Cats

30443356_224219938323421_2255739037430054912_oSilver, both as a metal, crystal and colour, has a lot of positive connotations attached to it, not least its link with the calming beauty of the Moon herself.


These positive vibrations are absorbed by the wearer/owner and brings both perseverance and patience. Obviously it is a popular metal to use in combination with gemstones and crystals because its empathetic absorption encourages the best qualities from the crystals, retains them and passes them onto the wearer.

Silver can also bring increased perception and awareness of the world and those around you; whilst maintaining emotional and intuitive balance. In times past, polished silver was used as a mirror and can still be used in this way to view your spiritual self as well as your physical self – linking the two together.


Silver is known for having antibacterial properties, being used to coat surgical instruments, but it also has a unique healing energy, which can help with overall health. It’s a generally feel-good substance that’s beneficial to have around – just like cats.

I don’t often write about Tooty, Ting’s sister, which is unfair really, as she is the nicest natured cat of all my four. She has a beauty all her own, greeny-golden eyes, soft thick fur and a purr like a little engine.


She doesn’t have much of a meow, unlike her sister, who will quite happily provide a running commentary on whatever she’s doing. Tooty can manage a “mah!” if she requires food or a strangled honk like an angry goose if you pick her up when she doesn’t want to be handled, or sometimes a “brrp!” of greeting.

She loves the sun and unusually for a black cat, she has no ghost stripes, just a faint chocolate gleam to her undercoat. Lily is a dark tiger… full of stripes and whorls.


Tooty is a kind cat too – even Ting is not above giving someone a swift slap if they are imposing on her – but Tooty is always ready to sit on your knee or cuddle with her sister.


I love all of my cats, obviously, but I would have to say Tooty is the sweetest natured… shhh….don’t tell the others!