Apologies for not having written anything for a while but it’s been a bit hectic on the family front around here for the past few months, culminating with the arrival of our latest grandchild but our first first granddaughter, two weeks ago.
You may have heard me mention the Toadsman in the past, so I thought I might let you into some of the mysteries of him.
He first got his name many years ago, not because of some ‘new craze’ ritual that seems to be the ‘in thing’ at the moment but because he had a real toad as his familiar that used to come and visit him in his shed/studio. It would sit in the doorway and watch him working on whatever project was taking his interest at the time; a great big ugly old toad, probably as old as TM’s motorbike and that’s old! Those two had quite a rapport going and I would often hear the Toadsman laughing and talking to the Toad but I never questioned what had been said; the fact that TM always came up with the just the right answer at just the most opportune time was enough for me.
TM, Witchcraft and old motorbikes, the three are inseparable (with a good pint of beer and some rolling tobacco thrown in). TM reckons you can’t do ‘proper’ Witchcraft without a motorbike; “gets you to all them inaccessible places ‘normal’ folk can’t get to” because he quite rightly knows….”that’s’ where the ‘real’ magic is!” he says, tramping around hidden woods in his old Para boots and a Belstaff that if it had any more wax applied could be used as a giant candle! Occasionally I have momentarily thought of using him as a votive but only very briefly.
Now the TM is not really a very sociable person, preferring the company of the spirits of the woods and fields and the conversation of the Hidden Folk to the company of the ‘clay’ folk. I took him to a Pagan Moot once (because I wanted to be nosy & see what one was all about) and he lasted all of about 20mins before being asked to leave…..they thought his views were way too ‘dark’ and said they were not really into Witchcraft and Cunning folk! I suppose him saying “Stonehenge was nothing more than a glorified building site these days…” and that there was more “sacredness in my backside”, slightly upset them. Oh, and that the only good thing about Glastonbury was the sausage sandwiches he’d had for his lunch while visiting there!! Have to admit he’s right on all points; Glastonbury is the commercial capital of all things witchy and has about as much ‘magic’ as a theme park, BUT there was really no need to voice this to the poor wee fluffy things and burst their balloons. So we gave up on trying to socialise TM. Any mention of moots, meetings and gatherings these days is just met with one of ‘THOSE’ looks that only a few Witches have a true knack of giving.
So we leave the TM to get on with what he does best; whether it be tending one of the sick creatures that find their way to his door, sat alone under a clear night sky muttering incantations to ends that only he knows, or throwing a 1001curses at his old bike because it won’t start.