Thursday, September 28, 2006

Happy Birthday, Faucon

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FAUCON: May your day be filled with love, hugs, and tons of good wishes. And may your year, and all the years that follow be filled with all that is good and all that you wish for yourself. Hugs, Vi

Happy Birthday, Faucon

Have a fantastic day!
From Imogen at the Hermitage

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.


Happy Birthday Ken

Enchanteur Conjuring

Enchanteur conjours up some special magic for your birthday Ken

Happy Birthday Papa


Click on the image to see it full size - love, Gail

Friday, September 22, 2006

A Song of Hope for Heather and Darryl

SOULMATES


Other worlds in deep of space
Orbit other suns in silent motion;
On another shore I touched your face
And stood with you beside another ocean.

We are old friends, somewhere
Beaneath a distant star that moved
In stately arcs through alien sky,
We met before and even then we loved.

You were mine before this earth was born,
Twin souls handfast in ancient rite.
Our children walked into the first primeval dawn,
Our children will see the last exploding night.

On other worlds, in other times, we met…
And then we loved, and never will forget.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Song of the Urban Gypsy

I think of the old days,
Remember the old ways
As I join the crush on the train.

I still hear the wheels creak,
Still hear the wind speak
As I wait for the bus in the rain.

I still smell the wood smoke.
Still touch the wild oak,
As I trudge up the company stairs.

I still sing the old tunes
dream of the full moon,
As I sit in my hard office chair.

Another day in the rat race,
Another hour at the coal face,
Will wither my spirit to ash.

So its throw off this load for me,
Back to the road for me,
I'll not trade my freedom for cash.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

The Gypsy and the Horse

In spite of the usefulness of cars and trucks, there remains a close historic tie between gypsies and horses. A gypsy could usually find work as a horse dealer or handler in the past, and gypsies developed one of the strongest and gentlest horse breeds in the world - the Gypsy Cob.
The gypsies and their horses developed a closer bond than other horse owners for a number of reasons, the main one being that the two lived much closer in day to day existence. Gyspies had no stables so the horses lived around the caravans and were part of the everyday life of the camp. Children played with them, adults stopped to pet them and they were constantly aware of the movement of humans around them.
Gypsies practiced the `horse whisperer' style of breaking and training. I was priveleged once to watch this in action.
A young mare, who had been badly frightened as a foal and refused to lead, had been sent to the knacker's yard. She was bought for a small amount of money by a traveller, along with the advice that she would never be any good.
It took all the morning even to get her loaded into a horse box. She was in a constant state of terror, wouldn't lead and wouldn't let anyone touch her head without a fight.
The traveller built a small enclosure and turned her loose in this. Everyday for a week, he would visit her, and spend time talking to her. She had no food or water in the enclosure. She could only drink from a bucket held by her new master and eat from his hand.
By the end of the week he was sitting on the fence, with no sign of her usual panic. The next week he started climbing in with her, always talking, always gentle, always insisting she ate and drank from his hand.
When I called in to see them again, he was in the pen, crawling all over her back while she stood quietly. Soon he was able to lead her outside the pen and teach her to accept a saddle and bridle. All through gentleness - all through patience.
Known as master horsemen, gypsies were always to be seen at county fairs, horse races and horse sales. They were shrewd bargainers and always on the look out for a good horse. It was this knowledge of horses that led to the development of the Gypsy Cob.
The Gypsies bred their horses amongst themselves as early as the 17th Century to concentrate certain characteristics that were useful or considered beautiful. They wanted a strong, powerful horse to pull their vans, but also a safe and gentle animal that could be trusted in a camp where small children ran freely about.
For looks they preferred the two coloured horses; the piebald, which is black and white, and the skewbald, which is brown and white. In fact, these colours became so associated with gypsies and circus travellers, that they were frowned on in the show ring and racing circles.
They bred from heavy draft horses, like the Friesian and the Clydesdale, and the small tough English ponies such as the Dales and the New Forest, to produce a compact, short bodie, sturdy all purpose breed that could be ridden or used to pull carts.
The heavy horses added another characteristic - the `feathers', or deep fringes of hair, around the hooves. Soon the gypsies were vying with each other to produce the animal with the lushest feathers, and mail and tail. These, and the two coloured coats, became the basic characteristics of the breed.
These magnificent horses have been revived as a breed today, with studs in the UK and the US.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Still More on Divining Rods...

As some of you know from posts I've made on other bloggers, some of my ancestors were dowsers-- at least that's what I've been told.

I did, a while back, fashion a pair of rods out of brass tubing and the plastic outer casings of ball point pens (to use as handles to allow the tubing to move freely). I fooled around with the rods and put them aside, determining in my mind that any pronounced movement of the rods had a rational explanation.

Earlier this week I lost an earring. It was an amber stone in a silver setting-- not expensive, but enough so to make it worth my effort to hunt for it. I scanned the floor of my office, our parking garage, the sidewalk outside my front door, and of course every room of my apartment. No luck.

So, I'm sitting in my living room a couple of nights ago and saw the rods sitting on the top of my bookcase and I thought-- "What the heck, I've done weirder stuff...." So I began to dowse for my lost earring.

I know you see this coming: I found the earring. It was on the floor of my bedroom where I had walked numerous times since I lost the earring but didn't see it.

I actually can't remember if the rods crossed right over the earring. It could be that I was simply walking much more slowly and looking more carefully. It might have been that, it might have been luck, or it might have been those darn rods leading my attention to the earring.

Anyway, I tell this story over the gypsy campfire and will let you all decide for yourself.


L Gloyd (c) 2006

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Gypsy fortune telling

Can Gypsies really foretell the future? Can they really know who you are from the lines in your hand?

To truly understand why Gypsies seem to have mysterious powers, you have to understand how they live.

Gypsies live very lightly in the world - they do not build anything, nor are they overly attached to possessions or places. They roam freely through it all, and living very close to nature heightens your senses about certain things.

Older country people, you may have noticed, have no trouble predicting the weather. ``It'll rain," they say, while you look up at a cloudless blue sky in disbelief. But they noticed the little signs that point to a change in the weather - for example, spiders that build their webs in the corners of verandahs will retreat into the shelter of the eaves and take their captured food with them.

A Gypsy that lives truly free and one with the elements grows up keenly aware of these signs. Gypsies mimic nature by leaving easily overlooked signs for their fellows to show which way they have gone. They call these signs `patrin'.

They become very observant in other ways as well. It is not hard for a gypsy, basically as disinterested in the affairs of society as animals are in the affairs of men, to sniff which way the wind blows - just as animals know when we are around and plan to make a nuisance of ourselves.

A human hand can offer so much information that you may not even need to know how to read the lines. No use removing your wedding ring to fool a gypsy. Those sharp eyes will spot where it has been. They will also spot tiny calluses, scars and other marks that proclaim your profession.
Does this mean the lines in your hand have nothing to say? Oh no, because Gypsies believe that everything is connected and know that - for example - folk whose hearts rule their heads have a deep corresponding line across their palms.

If Gypsies seem to have more sixth sense than others, it is because they understand acutely how much we are part of nature, and how our story becomes written in our hands, our faces, and everything we touch.

Also posted at Squidoo Gypsy Camp

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

A Little Music.......

We need some appropriate music for dancing around the campfire.

Click this link and listen.

I'll bring the finger cymbals and tabla.

Lori Gloyd

(This link is from The Visionary Dance website.)

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

At the Camp

Patchwork

le Enchanteur is excited about joining the Gypsy Camp to relax and enjoy their lifestyle. She always feels calm here and the Gypsy Chief always makes such a fuss of her.
So grab your things and join us here.

Leave all your woes dire, come to the campfire,
Come to the sound of the tambourine;
Come in a red skirt, come in a gold shirt,
Come to the dance on the Gypsy Green.

Take down the barn doors, make them a dance floor,
Partner your Rom, and sweep up your Queen;
Dance by the camp fire, dance ’til your feet tire,
Dance `neath the moon on the Gypsy Green.

Tell us the old tales, tell us some new tales,
Tell us everything that you’ve done or seen;
Take us down old ways, tell of your young days,
Spin us a yarn on the Gypsy Green.

Now watch the fire die, now hear the owl cry,
Soon the first rays of morning steal over the scene;
Sleep in your caravans, dream of fair atchin tan,
All tuckered out on the Gypsy Green.

Note: atchin tan=camp place