How to oil your goddess, in a very Puritan way, so don't you be gettin any ideas.
This weekend was a load of fun for the squibix family. By "weekend" I mean "Sunday-Monday-configuration" because like all good retail managers i WORK on Saturdays, when everybody else is out playing, and i'm off on Monday when everyone in the world is grumbling "isn't this the most awful day of the week?" Anyway, on Saturday evening we had a small dinner party with my cousins, David and Sally, who surprised us with a pop-visit. Sally, who is a cantor at a temple in New York, was singing a wedding in the area the following day. An OUTDOOR wedding, which sounded like unfortunate news on Saturday when it was pouring down rain and predicted to continue until tuesday. Anyway, it was a lot of fun to have them just waltz into the store, since i expected them to be in New York you know, doin the New York thing or whatever it is they do down there... eat Rye bread and such.
So i called Dan and asked him to prepare a dinner party in less than two hours, and he came through with flying colors. Thankfully, our house was already clean from the puppy test, and it turned out to be a great party. We even stayed up chatting until 11:00, which is far past our bedtime, and when we woke up the next morning the sun was shining for the first time in what seemed like months! Happy wedding-officiating, Sally!
On sunday afternoon we went looking for a rescue puppy to take home. No Sunday Puppies, but a lot of cute older dogs that might be too much work for us on account of them being mentally broken by their previous owners. Monday morning we tried again, driving out to a shelter in Salem which often has puppies, according to their website. No Monday puppies in Salem, i guess they all got snapped up over the weekend, but there was a cute hound-dog that was just the right size and the lovingest sweetest dog we yet saw. We asked the lady about him (Bartley is the name of the dog, not the lady) and she said that he'd need a fenced-in yard otherwise he's run off following smells, and he needs to be in a crate when you're gone otherwise he'll chew everything all ups. Four other families gave him up so far because he needed too much exercize. So needless to say, we didn't take that good dog home with us, although we might still think about it. We're going to go look at some more doggies on thursday, and hopefully we'll have better look finding a baby.
Since we were in Salem already, we decided to go walk around the "historic" downtown. As Dan said, Salem is a one-trick-pony-town, as in all-witches all-the-time, and every other store is either a witch museum or a witch store, of varying degrees of creepy-ness. We went into one occult shop which looked straight out of Harry Potter, selling robes and wands and crystal balls and all sorts of potions, i mean, essential oils. We were looking at some magic mirrors which needed to be activated by "goddess oil" and Dan wondered, "Do they make it from grinding up the goddesses, or from milking them?"
I said, "I only use free-range goddess oil, accounting for the terrible treatment of goddesses in factory farms."
Dan looks at the statuettes: "This one must be chained up for milking purposes.... Hey! Someone stole Meditation #2 from this set of Zen essential oils. I didn't know you needed oils for Zen."
"Of course you do. Otherwise your aura gets dry."
Anyway, we're glad to live in a town with REAL history, rather than a disney-land-ified version of a single rather insignificant historic event which, as Oona will violent protest, ACTUALLY occured in Danvers. Her grandpa lives right by the original Rebecca Nurse homestead, who was the first person in the whole scandal to be accused and hanged, and if you want to learn more about this whole story about Communism, i mean witches, you should read the play "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller, who was married to Maralyn Monroe, don't-you-know.