Let’s begin Tarot 101, shall we?

There are 78 cards in the tarot deck – 22 major arcana (or trumps) and 56 minor arcana. Put simply, the major arcana are the most powerful and fatalistic while the minor arcana, which are categorized in 4 suits much like common playing cards, are believed to reflect on events and/or circumstances that are more easily controlled by the person being read for. The 4 suits of The Arthurian Tarot’s minor arcana are Spears (ideas), Swords (actions), Cups (emotions) and Shields (the material world).

The first thing I do before I read my cards is concentrate on what I need guidance on or am curious about while shuffling. Please note that while concentrating on a question or issue, one is essentially trying to will the cards to address that question. It is believed that the cards will address whatever needs the most guidance and sometimes it has nothing to do with what one is willing them to tell about.

Today I was focusing on my upcoming trip to visit a dear, old friend in British Columbia. I’m very excited to see her and looking forward to having a whole lot of fun. Unfortunately, I’m also a bit concerned about a few unlikeables that have been causing my friend excessive stress.

Then I cut the deck 3 times.

Next I lay a card out in the middle of the table. This is the Significator card, which basically symbolizes the person seeking insight. In this case I’m reading for myself so the Significator represents me.  Lastly, I lay 7 cards out in the classic horseshoe spread around the Significator.

The 7 cards in the horseshoe can be simply represented as the following:

Card 1:    Past Conditions
Card 2:    Present Question/Issue
Card 3:    Future Outlook
Card 4:    Best Approach to the Situation
Card 5:    The Attitudes of Others
Card 6:    Challenges to be Faced
Card 7:   Final Outcome 

The first thing I do after laying out all 8 cards is take a look at the overall picture. Is one suit dominating the reading? Is one suit absent? How many cards are reversed? How many major arcana have appeared? Remember, there are only 22 major arcana compared to 56 minor – even one major arcana appearing in an 8-card reading is powerful.

Before I reveal my cards I feel it important to mention that my reading made perfect sense to me. I couldn’t have picked these cards better, though I swear I didn’t. This isn’t always the case. Sometimes a reading makes no sense at all and doesn’t become clear until you look back on it at a later date.

The first thing I noticed when looking at the overall picture of this particular reading was that I had 5 major arcana – pretty powerful. I also noted that I had two Swords (actions) and that Cups (emotions) and Shields (the material world) didn’t appear at all.

To interpret each card I refer to my guide. After reading what the guide has to say, I think about the card and try to feel what is being presented to come up with my own interpretation.

Here’s what the Tarot gave me on April 13, 2010 and each card’s interpretation:

Significator – Two of Swords (Reversed)
Bailin strains to see what fate awaits him on the island.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Misrepresentation. Vulnerability. Dishonour.
Jenny’s Interpretation: I’m waiting for the cards to fall.

Card 1 (Past Conditions): 18. The Moon
Morgan le Fay (chief priestess of the sisterhood of Avalon and feminine counterpart to Merlin): Fostered by the magic of the moon, Morgan travels the threshold of unchartered realms.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Unconscious activity. Strong emotions. Illusion. Disorientation. The powers and wisdom of the subconscious impacting waking life. Introspection. A period of emotionally charged dreams. Sensitivity and a heightened imagination.
Jenny’s Interpretation: I’m just hoping this means my crazy-ass nightmares are finally a thing of the past. I don’t want to take a deeper look at them. I don’t care how or why they came to be. Just make ‘em gone! Thank you very much.

Card 2 (Present Question/Issue): 8. Strength
Percivale’s Vision: The physical strength and energy of the lion and maid unite with the intelligence and experience of crone and serpent.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Strength, courage and vitality. Intelligence, reason and experience, united with enthusiasm and energy. Drawing on inner strength to resist temptation and distraction. Self-discipline and satisfaction.
Jenny’s Interpretation: Am I strong enough?

Card 3 (Future Outlook): 15. The Horned One – Cernunnos (Reversed)
Cernunnos: The Lord and protector of beasts rests in the wild.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Being driven by impulses or the dangerous repression of the instinctual nature. Indulgence. Self-destructive behaviour.
Jenny’s Interpretation: I’m in trouble.

Card 4 (Best Approach): Ace of Swords (Reversed)
The marvellous Sword of David awaits its destined master.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Striking out at others without due cause. Entanglements. Sterility. Indulgence.
Jenny’s Interpretation: Somebody’s getting kicked in the face…or the balls!

Card 5 (Attitudes of Others): 1. The Magician — Merlin (Reversed)
Merlin: The famed magician retreats into the wilds.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Deception. Loss of direction. Dampened senses. Delays. The negative use of power.
Jenny’s Interpretation: Somebody thinks I’m evil.

Card 6 (Challenges): 19. The Sun – Lleu
The increasing strength of the sun lends its warmth to Lleu.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Joy, success and satisfaction. Enjoying the pleasures of life. Accomplishment and friendship. Renewed appreciation of life. Good health and high spirits. Can indicate a commitment, engagement or happy marriage.
Jenny’s Interpretation: Agreed. Commitment issues are a challenge. Next!

Card 7 (Final Outcome): Nine of Spears – Wind Harps of War
Giant wind harps are erected upon the cliffs, where their fearful drone will greet the enemy.
Literal Meaning (Anna-Marie Ferguson): Anticipating hostility. Preparing for turbulence and conflict. Foresight. Sensing unrest. Putting affairs in order. Planning a defense.
Jenny’s Interpretation: I’m-a get it done!

The Big Rock

When Leslie reminded me about The Big Rock, near Wilkie, SK it was instantly added to the list of fun things to do. I’m always moaning and groaning about my dislike of Saskatchewan and how much better my beloved British Columbia is (and it IS) but I have to admit that Saskatchewan has its gems – you just have to look a little harder for them when you don’t have formidable mountains in your face.

The Big Rock was declared a Provincial Heritage Property in 1987. It used to be a landmark for early pioneers and North West Mounted Police (which were later renamed Royal North West Mounted Police, then merged with Dominion Police in 1920 to become Royal Canadian Mounted Police, or RCMP, of today).

Can you imagine travelling by horse through the vast rolling prairies to meet your pioneer family at The Big Rock in the marshy land off the Saskatchewan River? Are there other such landmarks nearby? What if three days after you arrived at The Big Rock, when your travel rations were dwindling, your cousin, accompanied by a Mountie, galloped up to you on his steed, looking disgusted  — “No. No. No. Not this big rock, The Big Boulder yonder!”? I have to look into this and get back to you.

 But before we explored The Big Rock, Leslie and I noticed a Buffalo Rubbing Stone (and I think it’s reasonable to assume that The Big Rock, itself, is a Buffalo Rubbing Stone). It’s because I’m so swift and intelligent (not really) that my first thought was How do buffalo rub? Then, more importantly, Why?

Well, Dear Reader, the internet informed me that the buffalo rubbed against these rocks to rid themselves of parasites and in the spring, their thick winter coats, as well.

Geologist say that roughly 10, 000 years ago, when glaciers were receding through the last ice age, they dragged boulders and rocks from the earth’s crust with them until they got too heavy. The melting glaciers also carved rivers such as the Qu’Appelle Valley and the Saskatchewan River Valley.

In the aftermath of  their wake the glaciers left huge grasslands. At least hundreds of thousands and most likely, millions of buffalo managed to adapt into a smaller, faster breed  while the mammoths and saber-toothed cats of the ice ages could not. They roamed our grasslands and managed their coats by rubbing against the rocks that sank and settled into the earth over thousands of years.

Before

How do we truly know that buffalo rubbed against these rocks until the rock surfaces became smooth? There are reports of early settlers finding hair in the rocks’ cracks. I’m glad I didn’t rub against a wad of flea-invested buffalo hair though – eww!

After

 Leslie fell in the snow beside the Rubbing Stone. Ha ha! I, being the horrid friend that I am, thought she was playing and tried to get a picture of her fall – and failed — but I did catch the “before” and “after”. I’m sorry I laughed so hard, Leslie…kind of…not really…maybe!

It’s disgusting that we have this much snow in April. It sure is fun to watch an eleven-year-old, ninety-something-pound Giant Schnauzer with arthritic hips roll about in said snow though!He thinks he’s young and bother-free!

My sister, Mel and her dog, Prince came with us on our field outing today. Princey’s a little sprinter with tonnes of energy. It’s hard to catch a picture of him when he’s off-leash outdoors but I did manage to catch one shot of him shaking off some snow.

Anybody who knows me, even a little, already knows that despite my knack for chatting anybody up, the truth it still that deep down I like animals a whole lot more than I like most people. Sure, I can charm as well as a broke manwhore convincing a potential sugar mama that she’s his light, moon and stars. But when the day is done I scurry home to my pets and lock my doors to all but a select few people that I enjoy spending my precious, free time with.

Yet every now and then I’m hit like a smack in the forehead with the sudden realization that I have encountered some truly fabulous people in my short, very short, I-don’t-care-if you’ve-seen-my-identification-short life — like today.

Leslie

Leslie

Of course, Leslie is in this post. In case nobody’s noticed I really like my co-worker, Leslie. In fact, I should probably just rename “jennyjuice.com” to “leslie’sbiggestcheesiestfan.com”. Ha ha! But a lot of genuine and just plain GOOD people were at Day # 3 of 175 Days of Fun’s event : Erin’s birthday.

Erin

Erin is another of my most excellent co-workers (big suprise)!  I’m somewhat ashamed to admit that I had almost forgotten that it was Erin who had made a point of trying to make me feel welcome on my first few days at work, over a year ago. She introduced herself, asked if I needed anything and she actually listened. I have a big problem with our dos-based, green-screened software, developed in 1984 (for serious!). It’s archaic and nowhere near  user friendly – if you don’t know the acronyms, have fun guessing! Not only did she find and print me an excellent cheat sheet but she also printed me off other valuable materials that gave me insight into my role, as well as the clients I would be encountering.

In case I never told her, I’m publicly declaring that my Supervisor frequently expresses admiration of my speedy manoeuvring through our crappy database and I have Erin to thank for it. THANK YOU, ERIN!

Pam

Pam and Erin

Another fantastic co-worker, Pam, participated in Erin’s birthday celebration. Pam’s the quiet one who doesn’t always say a lot but can be approached with any tomfoolery or grievance. She will look away from her mountain of work and give you her undivided attention and complete support (grievances) because as I’ve finally figured out, she’s really kind and sensitive, too.

But before I had time to reflect and get all cheesy on the co-workers, Erin’s birthday was great fun!

Jennifer and Chris

The gang included others I’m just getting to know through our social outings but we’ll chat more about these folks later. This is, after all, a co-workers love-fest!

First, the gang went bowling, sans Jen. This was a good time, apparently, but I can’t really elaborate because a) I’m not an avid bowler and b) I wasn’t there. I’m still a bit under the weather and needed time to recuperate…so I could take part in the drinking! Ha! Ha!

We ate. We drank. We laughed. It was good times. What more can I say? Don’t the pictures illustrate?

Andrew

Tucker Wants a Strawberry

It’s pretty challenging to have fun when you’re sick (see prior post). I can’t keep anything in my stomach today – not even yummy strawberries.  So I fed strawberries to my Giant Schnauzer, Tucker, instead! Tucker sure likes strawberries!

Tucker Gets a Strawberry

Happy Tucker

He likes chicken wings. I like chicken wings. We often go out for chicken wings.

On April 7, 2010 we went to a different restaurant whose wings I have never eaten before. Eating the peculiar-tasting wings was fun. Barfing them up was not. I am NEVER eating wings at that place again!

The Tractor Graveyard

My co-worker and friend, Leslie, is wicked awesome! She is fun, upbeat, outgoing and inspirational, particularly in her ability to put a positive spin on less than positive and often stressful circumstances.

Our employer covers the northwest region of Saskatchewan, which often requires us to travel to surrounding communities. Road trips with Leslie are always good times, even if we have setbacks – like running out of gas in Mayfair, which doesn’t have a gas station (luckily, a local helped us out).

Leslie

On this particular day, Leslie and I travelled to Unity. On our way back home we stopped at a tractor “graveyard” near Wilkie. We’ve passed this “graveyard” many times before but today we decided to stop and snoop around.

Only with Leslie can a girl have fun on a rusty, old, dilapidated  tractor!

Jenny

 Allow me to illustrate:

Situation 1

 I’m trying to reason with a difficult client. She has brought her aunt along with her for ‘support’. They have both been hit with the stupid-stick a time (or ten) too many. There is no way for me to make them understand any time this century. I’m about to snap.

 Click.  (That’s me pressing my panic button).

 A low, beeping alarm sounds through the room.

 Computer-Generated Voice:  Auto shutdown engaged. Back away from the Jenny. I repeat, back away from the Jenny. Initiating destruct sequence: 10…9…8…

 At this point, I give my client my best, wide-eyed, concerned look and say “Oh dear. You’d better go. This has never happened before. It can’t be safe. Run!”

 Ideally, my stupid client and her stupid aunt would scurry on out of there. Yay!

Situation 2

 I escaped Situation 1 (above) so smoothly I decide to celebrate with a few drinks. That was 5 hours and umpteen pina colada’s ago.

Yes, I like pina coladas…

 Anyhow, I have not yet ‘broken the seal’ and I have to pee so bad that I’m dancing – and not sexy-like at all. So I dance/stumble my way in the general direction of the bathrooms when Mr. Hottie stops me to chat.

He’s very cute, that Mr. Hottie. He’s funny, too! Okay, I admit it. I can’t really understand what he’s saying over the music and people milling about everywhere but his elaborate, hand gestures and facial expressions are funny.

 But oh my GAWD, I have to pee! If I laugh one more time I’ll probably have an accident in my pants — right here, in front of Mr. Hottie.

 And then I realize that I am standing at the very end of a bathroom line-up from hell.

 Click-click. (That’s me pressing my panic button twice).

 Loud Booming Voice: Free pina coladas at the main bar! Yes, FREE pina coladas at the bar!

 Now at this point, most of the women should be rushing over to the bar, allowing me quick and easy access to the ladies’ room. Just in case, my most excellent panic button is prepared for the rare breed of woman that would turn up her nose at a free pina colada.

 Loud Booming Voice: Free pina coladas AND beer at the main bar! Yes, free pina coladas AND BEER!

 Jenny’s clear to go! Double yay!

 Situation 3

 So you’re probably impressed with how slick I was in Situation 2 but let me tell you something, Readers: that was nothing!  Do you recall the afore-mentioned Mr. Hottie? Uh huh (*wink, wink, nudge, nudge*).

I am SO awesome!

 And because I am so awesome he invites me to catch a move with him the very next night. So I agreeto meet Mr. Hottie at the theatre.

Except when I get there I discover that Mr. Hottie is…well…not so hot. In my head, I start to add up all the many pina coladas I had consumed the night before.

 That’s okay! I’m sure he’s a fabulous guy with a great sense of humour, right? Um, no. Not so much. Ican’t get more than one syllable at a time from this guy!

 It’s starting to feel really awkward in this theatre. They don’t serve pina coladas to soothe the panic.

 Click-click-click-clickety-click-click. (That’s me pressing the panic button three times).

 Loud, Distorted, Nasal Voice: Would the owner of a blue Toyota Prius, license plate number ‘828 JEN’ please move your vehicle? You are parked in a tow-away zone.

 I feign surprise and sheepishly mutter that it was my car and I’ll be right back. Then I run for the exit without a backward glance.

 Of course I’m just kidding. I would never be in those situations. :) But wouldn’t it be super to have a panic button, just in case?

My new cello is Chinese. I don’t even know which luthier supervised its creation. I only know that the reputable Linda West has repaired a minor blemish and vamped it up for my playing pleasure. I haven’t even heard the cello and only have Linda’s assurance of its solidity and warm, even tone.

It’s not particularly wise to purchase a cello you haven’t seen, handled and heard but it was a bargain I couldn’t pass up. Cross your fingers for me, Readers, as there are mixed reviews on the quality of currently manufactured Chinese cellos.

Perhaps my recent awakening of emotions has repercussions. I think I’m becoming THAT girl. You know, the one you see in the grocery store but pretend you don’t and promptly turn on your heel and dash toward the nearest baking aisle so you can pretend to be involved in selecting chocolate chips – Oh no! Here comes THAT girl with all the sappy feelings! Look busy!

Yup, I might be that girl.

I recently toured the tunnels of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan with THAT guy responsible for all my renewed sappiness. I was both saddened and outraged for all the Chinese immigrants that were exploited in their labours for the underground laundries.

I can’t help but picture then toiling away in substandard conditions while carving cellos in their native China – overworked and underpaid in much the same fashion as the Chinese immigrants.

Though this idea should have deterred my recent purchase, I can’t help but feel that my cello will have added personal value. I imagine that somehow the labour, energy and dreams of determined, Chinese souls have been imprinted on my instrument and it will sing all the sweeter because of it.

I’m a lucky girl…with only a few, minor psychological issues.  

It isn’t easy to admit that in relation to men I am unable to answer the question “What do you want?” With the exception of absolute, must-have personality traits (ie. an awesome, somewhat warped sense of humour) I can’t seem to get past my unwillingness to create and categorize my ‘ideal’ man. I don’t believe, for example, he must be blonde-haired and blue-eyed with only one dimple, a slightly crooked grin, Schwarzenegger’s abs and all the exact same interests as me.

How realistic is that, really? If a man has black hair, lacks dimples entirely and hates painting one another’s toe nails during slumber parties he doesn’t even get a shot? He just gets the ‘once-over’ and immediate dismissal? What if he’s one of those rare gems that treats me like the sexiest woman alive even when my hair is a disaster, I’m not wearing a stitch of makeup and my ass is hanging out of the baggy pyjama pants I should’ve thrown out long ago?

Maybe I’m looking at it wrong and I need to focus on the most pertinent categorizations but I really couldn’t be bothered. I don’t want to specify skills, interests and physical characteristics. Aren’t I supposed to “just know”? I don’t want applications, references and financial statements prerequisites (ha ha!).

So there we have it. Dr. Phil would likely not approve of my not knowing what I want. I do, however, know what I DON’T want.

I don’t want any relationship in any context with any person that makes me feel bad in any way, shape or form. Period. No matter the circumstances, intentions or lack thereof I do not want any part of feeling bad.

And I think that’s fair.

I recently had a very short, whirlwind relationship-of-sorts. He is funny, smart, silly, sexy, lively, talented, and unique. He’s adventurous, kind and always a gentleman. His smile is contagious. I felt inexplicably connected to him the instant I met him.

We hit it off and jumped into things rather quickly, which may be exactly where we went wrong. We had obstacles like distance, responsibilities, time and an age difference rearing their ugly heads way too soon in our potential relationship. Then the typical poisons seeped in: fear, doubt, jealousy, etc. I hated knowing that the ground was eroding away beneath us and realizing that our foundation wasn’t strong enough to withstand it.

I did not know what to do. Much like me, he couldn’t or wouldn’t say what he wanted. I knew what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to feel bad. I couldn’t let the destruction continue until the damage was so great that we hated each other entirely. I wanted to preserve a small chunk of happiness.

I did my best attempt at a peaceful parting. I finally, truly understand the meaning of  ‘bittersweet’.  Breaking up with somebody I actually cared about was bitter.  Here’s the sweet:

I am allowed to be a real person with real feelings.                                                                                                                           I should not have needed somebody else to tell me this but apparently, I did. He told me, he let me and I’m thankful.

Even though it fell apart so quickly the feelings were powerful enough to move me…and my writer’s block.        ‘Nuff said.

I feel music again.                                                                                                   I listened to him playing his guitar and it somehow woke me up. I am finally replacing the cello that an idiot destroyed in May of this year.

So thank you, Almost-New Best-Friend. If our paths ever cross again, perhaps when I’m older and decrepit, I will just so happen to have my cello nearby and I will say to you:

“Stay right there. I’m going to play that freaking song for you very angry-like and you’re going to listen. Feel free to accompany me on your guitar!” 

And that, Dear Readers, is all the juice I have for today.

P.S.   I’M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!