There’s a paperclip in the butter. I’m just staring at it. A jumbo-size green one. How did it get there? We have a butter dish cause that’s how we roll. (What’s that joke? Maybe I’m butter, cause I’m on a roll? Sorry, I’m sure I got that wrong.)
We’re a butter family—not margarine. Never have bought margarine, but hey, good for you if you choose to. I’ve heard things about margarine, like they figured out its bad for you, but it will take effort to sort through the facts versus fiction stuff on the internet.
I retrieved the paperclip from the salted butter—the only kind you can leave out and not refrigerate. That much I know. I spent precious time at the sink waiting for the water to get hot so the butter would wash off the paperclip, wondering the entire time if it was worth the effort. That said, the deed is done. The paperclip is clean, and back in the drawer. But how did it get stuck in the butter? I just spent a gallon of water cleaning a paperclip.
After a quick family survey, no one knows anything—or they’re not copping to it. I sometimes wonder about strange stuff like this. I’m standing there looking at it, assessing the situation, running through the possible scenarios and one creepy one pops in. We have gremlins. I’ve written about this on-going fear in other blogs, but now, I believe it’s time to act. I’m going to smudge the shit out of my home.
I’m going to Amazon and search for a kit. Sigh, now I feel guilty about not supporting a local business. It turns out all the big box stores sell this stuff—Walmart, Target. Apparently, there’s a big market for a smudge system. Who knew? But damn, there’s a lot of research to do, and bundles to sort through, and actual needs versus b.s. to choose from. For example, will my gremlins flee the premises if the smudge stick doesn’t come in an eco-friendly box? What if the wrapping paper isn’t 100% recycled? What if the twine which wraps it is not a natural jute twine, but something else? And why the hell do I need a feather?
I’ll bet Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop site has this shit. I’ll be right back.
Huh. I’m surprised. I guess our Gwyneth hasn’t tapped into the big smudge market. In fact, the only thing that comes up on Goop is for a “sexy” perfume called Smudge. I’m not kidding. According to Goop – its pure magic. “I’m wearing Smudge, Baby.” Ooooh.
Now I’m curious how Gwyneth feels about those beeswax ear cleaner things. I’ll be right back. Hm, nothing there either. Maybe those fire-starters-for-your-hair aren’t a thing anymore. I believe my description tells you why I might have turned away from the system.
Smudging is supposed clear the negative energy. It’s a sacred thing so you can’t do it while drinking margaritas. You gotta be mindful, not drunk. On the other hand, tequila often leads to places untraveled. I’ll consider it.
We’ll be clearing the space around us of negative energy. The dust and dirt of our human emotions accumulate. And like physical dust we can see, you gotta Swiffer up the remnants of your emotions too. Some people smudge weekly. I haven’t done it in years. No wonder every appliance in the house broke, the basement flooded, and the pipes burst. That is what they call a negative event. Gotta smudge.
But it smells. Burning sage smells like pot, or something else. So you gotta follow it up with some after-smudge cleansing. Like with lavender in a diffuser—dispense it, or some other essential oil. When you smudge, you wanna light your sage and burn it over a bowl. Not any bowl. A special bowl. Like an abalone shell which represents the element of water.
Now to the feather. You use it like your hand basically, to waft the smoke up over your person. The smoke is washing you. Repeat this mantra: Air, fire, water, earth. Dismiss, dispel, Don Julio – on the rocks. (Only kidding, I added that last one).
Are you sensing my attitude needs adjustment too? No worries, I also ordered a chakra bracelet to wear while I’m smudging. It will heal my seven chakras, but that is a blog of a different color.
Stay posted. I’ll let you know how it goes. But if I find something else sitting in the butter, we’ll have to up our smudging game and hire a shaman.