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Queens: Are They So Evil?

Enjoy my minor attempts at Poetry. Keep in mind, I haven’t written anything poetic since highschool. You’ll quickly see why.

A precarious thing, a Queen becomes;

She’s known for beauty, for faith, for something

and that thing is what makes her so hated.

Too beautiful. Too faithful. Too loving.

Her downfall, that Queen, is that she cares.

She cares about her husband, perhaps,

or her people.

or herself, just a little too much.

And that leaves her lost, and alone, afraid and scared.

She isn’t prepared.

Sold to another kingdom for her ransom,

She marries, and she is not his favorite. He barely loves her.

She does everything she can.

Or he loves her, but he loves his old wife more.

Poor Queen, lost.

She takes up magic, takes up the old ways of lying and beauty and power.

She takes up new ways of passion and heart and anger.

The Evil Queen they call her.

Is she truly evil?

For wanting nothing more than stability, and hope?

Is she evil?

Or is she hurt? Lonely?

No one cares to ask, as they stab the sword into her dragon breast,

or throw her dashed down on rocks.

She is dead, poor Queen.

Poor evil Queen. She is dead.

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Jack and the Beanstalk

To be quite honest, old Jack has tapped me out. I have no idea what to write about this particular fairy tale. So I decided to try something stream-0f-consciousness, to see if I can get to the bottom of what Jack and the Beanstalk means to me. You see, I never really liked the tale, even as a child. It made no sense to me. If you were going to sell a cow, why would you do it for a few coins? Cows make milk, right? So why not keep the cow, scavenge for food around the forests and stuff, and try and survive that way?

So, yes, even as a child, I wasn’t easily fooled. I knew that no giant beanstalk would grow from a few green beans. I’d tried. It didn’t work. Magic, or not, beans did not equal giants. This was clear to me from a very young age. But there was one part of the fable that drew me. I loved the idea of the Harp of Gold and the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs. These two prizes, seemed so very, very unreachable for me.

Perhaps it was because Harps always seemed so… elegant and rich to me. I tried very hard not to put myself down, but I knew I would never have that sort of beauty in my posession. And the goose? I wouldn’t even know how to care for it. So I envied Jack these few things. I wanted to have them, and he did, so I hated him. Amazing how easy it is to fall into sin that early.

The thing about these two prizes was, however, you had to pass by a giant to get them. And this giant wanted to grind your bones to make his bread. Clearly, the poor guy was calcium deficient and needed some kind of supplement.  I felt sorry for him! But at the same time, he was really, really annoying. All that fee-fi-foh-fum humdrum, it made no sense. Why let your prey escape by being so loud?

Also, the whole tale has no real conclusion. Yes, Jack cuts down the stalk, but what about the rest of the giants? Can’t they come down any time? Shouldn’t they be able to toss down some magic beans and then wreak revenge on the wayword Jack? Oh wait, I don’t remember THAT happening in the original story. Someone should tell Jack and the Beanstalk from the Giant’s point of view. That’d be nice.

And another thing! There are NO female parts in that story, except for the ‘naggy mother’. Really? Maybe Jack should be Jill! Girls can climb giant beanpoles too! Although to be honest, I can’t think of a woman who’d sell a cow for a couple of magic beans. …Well, not off the top of my head anyway. That isn’t to say there aren’t any, just that I don’t know any. Perhaps Jill could climb the stalk and then make peace with the giant?

Well, now I’m getting into territory of a new novel, and that really can’t happen, so I’m going to end this respectable five hundred some odd words with this. Don’t sell your cow. Feed it grass. Milk it. Live. Be happy.

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Is He or Isn’t He (Human)?

Today we discuss that ever famous trope, the one thing that makes every horror movie ever awesome, the one thing that turns fairytales from fairy to Faery tales, and the one thing that I absolutely adore when done right. When in doubt, use this particular cliche, because honestly, it never gets old! On Tvtropes.org they call it the Tomato in the Mirror. Personally, I like the fact that it can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere. Including yourself!

Is he human, or isn’t he? This goes for women too, but too often, we forget that men exist in fairy tales as anything other than the prince, or the rescuer. Or sometimes both. As one-dimensional as this is, some of the best  scares in the world, come from the idea that the person you are with is not who he says he is. So here’s a quick guide to whether or not your beau is in fact, human!

1) Salt! It is your best friend!

In most societies, Salt is considered a purifying presence. (maybe because of what it does to slugs, who knows.) People consider it pure and useful. In the old days, there was a saying “Worth his salt”. This was because back in those days, people were actually PAID in… You guessed it. Salt. It preserves meat, adds flavor, keeps rot away, and best of all, salt lining a doorstep or a window keeps the evil from entering a home. Supposedly.

The Pearl Princess
A Fairy Tale of the Value of Salt
Once upon a time, there lived a woman on the top of a mountain that lived in a cottage and had geese. In the
large nearby forest, she would pick grass for the geese and fruit to carry home. One morning, a handsome
young count came into her presence. He asked if she had no one to help her carry her things. She told him
that she was poor and had no one to help her and asked if he would be so kind since he was strong and tall.
He agreed but soon he was groaning under the weight. “These are so heavy, can we rest,” he asked? “No.
Go on a bit more,” she coaxed. ” He tried and tried to take the bundle from his back and found he could not.
He began to think she was a witch. As if she could read his thoughts, she tried to console him by saying:
“Don’t get angry. I will give you a present when we get to my home.”
Soon they arrived at her little cottage. It was a bit run down though neat and tidy. There was another women
there who asked: “Kind mother, you have stayed away for so long. You were missed.” “I met with this kind
gentleman, who carried my burden,” replied the old woman as she took the bundles from the Count. “Sir, you
may rest upon the bench. And you, little one, go inside the house lest he fall in love with you.” The Count
was somewhat surprised at the old woman’s comment. The girl was homely and old looking and he thought
love was an impossibility unless she was considerably younger.
The Count fell asleep. When he awakened the old woman was there ready to give him his reward for his
kindness of carrying her bundles. She placed an emerald green box in his hand and admonished him to take
good care of it. He put the unopened box into his pocket and left. He was unable to find his way out of the
forest even though he had been able to before. Finally, after three days, he came to a large town. He was
greeted by a guard that was instructed to take all strangers to the King and Queen.
He respectfully explained his situation: “Your Majesties, I am a Count. I have lost my way.” The King asked,
“How can you prove what you say?” The Count began to search his pockets and found the emerald box and
presented it to the Queen. Upon opening it she gasped in surprise and fainted. The guards seized the Count
and the King helped the Queen. As the Count was being taken away she awoke and asked that he be
released for she wished to talk to him…. alone.
Once alone the Queen began her sad tale. “I have three daughters. The youngest was rare and wonderful.
When she cried, pearls fell from her eyes instead of tears. One day, their Father, the King, decided to divide
his kingdom so he called our daughters before us. ” He said: “All of you love me. But she who loves me best
will receive the greatest part of the kingdom.” The Queen continued. “Each child giggled and said that she
loved her father best but was asked to tell how much. “The first daughter said that she loved her father as
much as the sweetest sugar. The second daughter said that she loved him as much as her prettiest dress.
Our youngest was quiet. The King asked her….”How much do you love me.” She replied, “I know not what to
compare my love to, Father.” He encouraged her and asked her to think again. “I do not like even the best
food without salt. Therefore, I love my father like salt.” He became angry not understanding the compliment
she had given him for salt is worth more than gold sometimes. “Like common salt,” he raged! He had the
kingdom divided between the two oldest daughters and placed a sack of salt upon her back and she was
lead into the forest by two guards. I begged him not to but he wouldn’t change his mind. I wept. She also
wept and the road to the forest was strewn with the pearls from her eyes. After a few days, the King regretted
his behavior and the soldiers were sent into the woods to find her. They could not. We have wept since.” And
so ended the Queen’s sad tale.”When I opened the emerald box, I saw the pearl that my daughter used to cry. Where did you get it” the Queen implored?

“In the forest, I met an old woman and carried some bundles to her home. I didn’t see a
beautiful princess.” When the King was told of this, the three of them returned to the forest to look for the old
woman.
She was in her cottage spinning with the homely child beside her. An owl came to the window and the old
woman said, “It’s time to go to the well.” Off she went deeper and deeper in to the forest. She brought up a
bucket of well water and began to wash her face. As she did so, the homely mask soon came off and in the
moonlight you could see she was the beautiful princess.
Meanwhile, the Count had strayed from the King and Queen and climbed a tree to find them. But what he did
see was the girl, a beautiful girl. He edged out further on the branch to secure a better look but the tree limb
creaked. The girl heard the noise and placed on her mask as she ran from the well. He recognized her as the
goose girl from the old woman’s cottage. He climbed down the tree as quickly as possible but the fair maiden
had disappeared.
He found the King and Queen and said, “I think I have just seen your daughter. She probably went down this
path.” The three went hurriedly down the path and came upon the old woman’s house. They peered in the
window and saw the old woman alone at her spinning wheel. They knocked softly and heard her response:
“Enter. I was expecting you.” They asked the old woman if she knew of her daughter, the Princess. The old
woman rose from her stool and pointed a finger to the King and said, “Three years ago, you unjustly drove
her away. She who was good, kind and pure as salt! She put out her hand, which was filled with salt and
asked, “do you know the value of salt and therefore the love your child has for you?”
The King expressed his sorrow and beseeched the old woman to show him his daughter. A door opened and
the Princess appeared. Everyone wept tears of joy but only the princess wept pearls. The King asked her
forgiveness and said that he had no kingdom left to divide and that he had nothing of worth to give to her.
The old woman said: “This child needs nothing. She is as the salt of the earth, pure, life giving and watched
over. Her pearls are finer than those of the sea and she shall always have them.”
Upon this comment, the old woman put up her hands and said that for the years the Princess spent tending
her geese, the cottage was hers to keep. The kindly woman disappeared and the cottage changed into a
beautiful palace.
In all of the commotion, the Count was overlooked and he began to go. The Queen stopped him and asked if
there was any way that they could repay him for finding their daughter. The King offered his gold, the Queen
offered the pearls. He looked at the Princess and asked if she would marry him. The Princess agreed…..
And they all lived happily ever after.

The Salt Institute

2) Sage. See Salt, because it’s the same situation. Purification properties, protection from those who might harm you. Wear it as perfume, and if he flinches away, he is evil! Or maybe just in possession of a nose, because honestly, Sage has a really pungent odor. But it can be used to purify a home of spirits. Especially useful when one wants to avoid the situation poor Violet’s situation on American Horror Story. Just light a bundle of sage and let it’s fragrance touch every corner of your house, and put a small + symbol over each door and window with the ashes, and you’ve got yourself a safe home.

3) Tiger’s Eye. This stone has often been touted as protective. Just Google It and you’ll find a plethora of options. You see, it resonates with your own protective barriers, if you’re the type of person to believe that all people have these psychic protections, and strengthens them. Wear a tigers eye on the subway, or when dealing with people you don’t particularly care for. Wear it at work to avoid being noticed by the boss when s/he is on a rampage! Hey, there ya go!

So go forward, forewarned and forearmed, and meet your beau with a tiger’s eye around your throat, and some salt in your fist! Make sure that lover isn’t there just for your lovely insides!

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Fairy Godmothers

“I wished for my Fairy Godmother, the Good Witch of the North, or some other bitch with a wand.” – Jocelyn Drake

I can’t think of anything I’ve wanted more in life than to be given beautiful gifts, and to be worthy of them. Perhaps this is why the Fairy Godmother idea is so very enticing to me. Now, before you go calling me a Material Girl, I will have you know that knowledge, love, patience, kindness, and acceptance are all gifts in rare supply nowadays, and I’d be happy to receive any of them. Although a diamond bracelet, or a new pair of high heels wouldn’t make me turn up my nose, especially with my salary!

I personally, always wanted to be a princess, to be treasured and adored and loved. Like Rapunzel, like Cinderella, like Snow White, I always thought of my feelings of being trapped, of being used, of being alone were just something to be overcome until my prince charming arrived to rescue me. I would close my eyes and dream of all the beautiful things this prince would bring into my life. A three story house. Two cars. Beautiful children who would love me unconditionally and always make me proud. Stability. Hope. Peace.

But each prince, one after another, ended up promising and promising, and nothing ever came true. I’m not sure exactly when I stopped seeing the magic, when I stopped feeling that sense of wonder. I try to make myself see it. On Halloween, I dressed up and took a friend’s child trick-or-treating, if only so that I might relive the magic and rush and excitement of the night. But even with all the children running, all the candy pouring through my fingers, I couldn’t capture the same awe and sense of waiting that had filled me as a child. I couldn’t make myself beleive that something amazing was just around the corner for me.

Perhaps this is what growing up is? Perhaps it’s that sense of knowing everything, and feeling as if it’s all happened, and nothing new is ever going to excite you again. Or perhaps it’s depression? I used to wish for a Fairy Godmother to come and make me worthy of my Prince Charming. I’ve started to realise that no one is a Prince Charming. That I’m not Cinderella, nor am I the wicked witch. I am not, in any stretch of the imagination, anything but a person.

And that’s the important thing, I think. Remembering that as a person, I can be my own fairy godmother. I’ve started a garden. I’ve written books. I’ve gotten a new job, and I’m considering going back to school. I am making changes to my life to make it better every second I breathe. I am my own Fairy Godmother, and I’m learning to see the beauty and wonder in life again. In the tiny growing of a seed, in the pouring of words into print, in the breath of a sleeping child I’m allowed to hold. Life moves on. People grow up. We can’t all be Peter Pan, nor can any of us be Sleeping Beauty, sleeping away the world around us.

So embrace yourself. Learn to be your own Fairy Godmother. Stop looking for the alien to fall from the sky, for the prince to sweep you off your feet. Instead, look for the little magic in the world. The small changes in yourself and others. That is what will make you happy.

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