Dear Carol:

A real short letter this time. I'm running out the door to the library. Remember my dream about being in the Aegean during a disaster? Turns out that dream was very accurate. Crete was destroyed that way in only one day and night by fires, earthquakes and floods, and so was Atlantis. And that's not all. Lately, my life is all about the number 4. Like Carl Jung before me, I am besieged by number 4's. Joseph Campbell said Carl Jung spent a lifetime investigating the mystical significance of the number 4. I'm tripping over 4's these days. Every time I research something really mystical, I find the number 4. It's not easy to explain, it's more experiential than anything else. I call it "convergence." Jung called it synchronicity, "the concept of a meaningful coincidence of two or more events, where something other than chance is involved." Another name for it is "magic." Got to run. Write soon.

Wotcher, Claire!

Your letter came the same day as John with my load of fill dirt for Moore's stall. I left the letter unopened, went outside and saw a blank piece of white paper, about the size of a big napkin, that was lying on the front of the dirt pile. I picked it up, turned it over and there on the back of it was a big number 4. Just a 4, nothing else. Then I read your letter. Convergence?

You'd howl if you could see Jessie. She looks like Isadora Duncan. She's in the living room all by herself, in her shorts and tank top and a length of gingham wound around her waist, doing the Jazzercise Super Session. She asked me if I would put the tape on for her. I ought to be in there myownself instead of having my girth parked in front of this typewriter. Right now she is trying her best to do "Pivot, pivot, trip-o-let." I just saw her on my way to get a glass of wine, and she was checking her target heart rate zone. Attagirl.

I hope Jesup doesn't upset your wa. I only say that because it is the only place in the world where I can run into someone I haven't seen in 30 years and the first thing they will ask me is why I think my parents got a divorce. Six or seven years ago, while I was in a restaurant there, I ran into someone from high school. And although I hadn't seen her in 20 years and she didn't speak to me when we were in high school, the first thing she asked me was why did I suppose my parents got a divorce. My parents were both dead. Could she imagine that I wanted to discuss something that old and personal and painful with someone I hardly knew? And yet they can't understand why I won't come to the high school reunions.

While you are in Jesup you could take a day or two to solve the mystery of the gorilla on Bald's Island. If you can decipher a sarcopohagus, I know you can solve this mystery. Ball's Island is somewhere on the Altamaha River, and there is supposed to be a gorilla on the island. Several reliable people swear they have seen it, and one even said he saw the gorilla sitting on a log reading a newspaper. Not that I believe it, but if there is a newspaper-reading gorilla on the island, I think it's important I know about it.

The other day I came in and caught Jessie with my checkbook out of my purse and everything in my purse spread all over the floor. When she saw me and thought I might be mad, she grabbed up my driver's license picture and started kissing it. A little phony, but quite effective. I couldn't fuss for laughing. When I tell her "no" about anything, she kisses me. It gives me a sinking feeling to know that she isn't in grammar school yet and is already on the con.

I demand to know why you didn't tell me sooner about Jonathan Gash. I just finished Jade Woman and The Great California Game. Lovejoy is my new hero, and a right peach. Is that Lovejovian enough for you? I am planning on moving to England to divvie antiques. I suffer from a longing for old glass and dishes. And jewelry. And yightning rods and cemetery fences and other things too numerous to mention. I have also called the cable company and given them a right ballocking for not carrying A&E so I can watch Lovejoy. "Ere! Where's me Lovejoy?"

The weather has cooled off and the dragonflies are gone. (So are the dragons.) It is just a beautiful day. It was cool this morning but it has warmed up. I always think that Fall is my favorite time of year. I think that until Spring comes. We met Paige and Allyson at Centennial Park today for a fun afternoon of chasing the kids. It is really a nice park with lots of neat things for Paige and Jessie to climb on and fall off, but it is right beside the Caloosahatchee River, which makes me nervous as a cat. I never knew fear until I had a child; now I am constantly horrified that something is going to happen to her. Jessie and Paige were all flushed while we were there, but it could have been from chasing around and bullying all the other kids. I swear, they remind me of us when we were young. They go in a place and take over. And act the fool.

I have been sewing for 3 days on a little sewing project that was ill conceived. I hope I have enough material left over to make myself a straight jacket. I've also started some renovations. I'd send you a tile sample, but I suppose it would be a little expensive to mail. I wish the renovation elves would do this place while I am asleep.

I have been reading Oscar Wilde again, and he said all kinds of shocking things heavy with implication. "To love oneself is a never ending infatuation." And, "I am a man of simple taste. I am always satisfied with the very best." And my very favorite, "It is only a fool that does not judge by appearances." And, "When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers."A poet can survive everything but a misprint."I can resist everything except temptation."We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars."To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness." "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train."They say, Lady Hunstanton, that when good Americans die they go to Paris."Indeed? And when bad Americans die, where do they go to?" "Oh, they go to America." Ouch.

What a day. I have been throwing up and lying in state back in our bedroom with the door shut, and Jessie was banging on it and calling "Mommy, Mommy!" Next, she came in and tried to pry my eyes open. I could have gotten more rest if I had gone out to the mall and laid down on one of the benches. I guess I had better close so I can go barf again and then start supper. Write soon.


Wotcher, Carol!

Oh, I am so excited! When I was researching ancient Crete, I found a picture of a piece of pottery called the Phaistos Disk, the most famous undeciphered artifact in archaeology. At the top of the page in big block letters was the question, "Who can read the Phaistos Disk?" Of course I think I can read it. After about three hours or trying to read it like hieroglyphs, I played connect-the-dots with it and got a design I could recognize, a pyramid. Then I spent about a week on it and got some other designs this way, the constellation Argo and the Hermetic Star! This is an Hermetic artifact! I am now about to figure this thing out. I'll let you know what it says. [Only took 22 years :)]

I have been researching cave art and how beautiful it is! One night, after spending an entire day with my head in the cave art of the cavepeople, I dreamed I lived in a community of truly primitive people who were barely able to survive and who were always in danger of being attacked by one animal or another. I have seen a lot of water moccasins in my life, but these two in my dream were the biggest I've ever seen. A voice behind me told me their names were Ida and Pingala, which is funny because that's a reference to the chakra system, the metaphysical system that facilitates astral projection or traveling in the spirit-vision. But even with the cute names, the snakes were terrible, and I would never have guessed I was being awarded those snakes. Ida and Pingala comprise part of the Caduceus, the symbol awarded The High Priestess. The essence of The High Priestess is water. And these snakes were in a pond.

As I was making haste to distance myself from the snakes (I was running flat out), a little, vicious mammal began chasing me, and I couldn't outrun it. I finally whacked it with my Caduceus to keep it and it's sharp teeth off me. The Caduceus empowers me as a healer, so maybe that sharp-toothed beastie was an infection I cured myself of in my sleep. Just at that moment, one of my female partners appeared wearing really attractive sandals that fit her feet so pretty. I looked down at my feet and saw that I had materialized ill fitting, clodhopper sandals, some that were way too big for me. So I gave my feet a pair of big, wool socks, which looked equally bad but were meant to fill the over-sized sandals. My socks and my sandals were full of sand. As I was pondering what to do about it, my considerate partner changed her pretty sandals to match my clodhoppers.

My partner led me to a group of cavepeople who were ejecting from their midst a young man who had a lisp and a stutter. They expelled him from their community, an early method of natural selection by humans, for no other reason than his speech impairment. Just as I was about to object to their treatment of this person, he told them he would do better without them and that he was sick and tired of the way they were treating him. I was still verging on interfering, but then he said he was going to go to Miami Beach and learn to play professional baseball. (It's also a good place to play Money Bridge.) When he said he was going to Miami Beach, I thought, "That sounds good to me. And these people will be stuck here with Ida and Pingala while he plays ball."


The Caduceus is portrayed on the II of Cups (Water, Two of Hearts), a card meaning Heavenly Partners. The Caduceus symbolizes the chakra system, which is key to the partnership of the angel guide and the human. The Caduceus forms the leminscate (figure 8), a symbol formed by the Phaistos Disk, as well. Shortly after I got the Caduceus award, I received another award, the Star of David, in a mysterious ceremony. The Star of David symbolizes "the par excellence of the Work and of the production of the Philosopher's Stone." The Star is composed of two triangles, one pointing down, symbolizing water and Mercury--the Heavenly Partner--and the other pointing up, symbolizing fire and Sulphur--the physical person. The alchemical Great Work cannot be completed without the "union of fire and water" and "the intimate union, the conjunction, of sulphur and Mercury." Write soon.

Wotcher, Claire!

How refreshing to find a letter with no window in my mailbox. Your letters are almost as wonderful to get as my alimony and child support checks. Your letter really pulled me back from the abyss. I am quilting you a Phaistos Disk quilt, in honor of your forthcoming decipherment. I wouldn't expect the archaeological community to be happy about it, if I were you. They'll probably be just as delighted about it as Jonas Salk would have been to receive a recipe hint from Heloise for the polio vaccine. Pay no attention to them, however. There was no doubt a fool on the ground at Kitty Hawk screaming, "It won't fly!" when the Wright brothers took off. If you unearthed a 4th pyramid, something they couldn't easily ignore, then they might consider your work. (And did you overlook the big lemiscate of the II of Pentacles?) (Earth, Two of Spades)

I keep my barn so nice and my housekeeping is so bad. I think I am more psychologically attuned to a dirt floor. I've always known that I kept house like a buffalo hunter, but I have learned not to despair over it. 20,000 years ago, can you imagine what my cave would have looked like? I would also have worn my animal skins too tight and rubbed charcoal on my eyelids. I changed the burners and the sockets on the stove this morning before I cooked breakfast. I had been struggling along with only two burners that worked full time, and yesterday morning I thought, "Well, what about those poor cavewomen who had to cook over a campfire." And then I thought, "Okay, so I've got one more burner than them." That's when I changed the burners.

I have not been real thrilled with Moore lately. He ran along side my truck when I was leaving for town and got excited. He started bucking and he kicked in the passenger side door. Perhaps I should take Moore to the taxidermist and have him stuffed. That way, when I want to ride him I can put him on roller, hitch him to the back of the truck, and someone can pull me around on him. I could also save a lot of money if I stuff him because I won't have to feed him nearly so much.

Kitty Sandra Dee is mad at me right now because I won't let her sleep on my 1957 Webster's New International. Sandra Dee is fatter than Henry VIII. Since she had her operation, she has really let herself go. She looks like a fur covered bowling ball with a head and a tail. Her belly swings between her legs when she walks. I tell her to be careful jumping down off of things, that she is liable to hurt her little feet.

Well, Jessie is getting out of the tub and I had better go dry her off and get her dressed. We have to go see what the library has to offer and check out more Lovejoy. I'll continue when we get back.

We're back. (Short trip, huh?) The Robber Baron Rural Electric Company estimated my bill this month $700 too high because I was in the shower while Molly and Hooch were outside, and the meter reader was afraid to come on the property to take a reading with them barking at him. In the middle of my making whatever it is called when you make a spectacle of yourself on the telephone, my regular meter reader came to read the meter for this month and explained the accursed new policy and the additional $20 rereading fee. He also told me that if I would draw pictures of the clocks with the arrows pointing to the numbers (that is, if I wasn't able to learn to read the meter) and hang it on the gate, he would take that.

In the face of all this, our house was awarded a five star energy rating. I said, in my hatefulest voice, "You mean this is the cheapest it's ever going to get?" They told me to do boring things like vacuum my refrigerator coils and change my heat pump filters and put a jacket on my hot water heater, things I already hate doing. Homeowning is a real chore. It also includes yard work. But I don't want to get you down. Now I know why people become terrorists. These are dangerous times, Watson. We must chronicle them.

Have you ever had red beans and rice? I love Louisiana cooking, and all other kinds, too, but RB&R is one of the things I crave most in times of deep depression.

We are having them for supper.

Jessie had the cordless phone and I just had to threaten to write another letter to Santa Claus. She doesn't even listen to my threats with a serious look on her face; maybe I need one of those hockey masks like Jason wore.

My renovation is coming along nicely. I just finished urethaning the window trim for the bathroom. What icky stuff. And I just noticed that I ruined my shirt. Staining wood is almost pleasant work; the stain just sinks in and doesn't run everywhere and the results are immediate and gorgeous. (You know how I love immediate gratification.) I put the linoleum down last night. I picked out a pedestal sink. Now all we need are nice aluminum Doric columns for the front porch and some plastic flamingos. And a mailbox like a little bitty front loader. The bathroom really has turned out better than I could have hoped. Incongruous with the rest of this house. Remember Lisa's bedroom in Green Acres?

When I redo the kitchen, I intend to salvage these decent, but ugly, cabinets with new pulls and pickling stain. And a new countertop and walls and floor and ceiling. I can see now that all I need is thousands of dollars and I can make this house almost all right.

What excitement here on the ranch! Moore colicked last night. In a horse, that is a case of severe abdominal pain caused by gas. Horses do not tolerate pain well, and Moore is a bigger sissy than most. The vet got me for $124 before Moore began to think that he might survive.

I took Jessie to the rodeo. My friend, John, is a bulldogger--a very good one, about third in the state. A bulldogger drops off a horse moving 35 miles per hour onto the horns of a steer going the same speed and tries to twist its neck and get it to fall down. A strange pursuit. We also went to a Dave Morgan rodeo in Lorida (Low-ree-da), which is really a strange affair. Dave furnishes the stock. When John was a kid, his daddy had Dave put on a rodeo in Naples and told Dave to bring his bad bulls. Dave looked at the arena where it was to be held and told John's dad that that arena wouldn't hold his bad bulls, that he would have to bring his medium bad bulls. John said the bulls he brought were so rank that Dave couldn't chase them out of the arena with horses because they hooked horses. After every bull ride he had to chase them out in an old beat up and bouncing Bronco with holes all in it, no headlights and a pack of dogs.

"/fcfccldffg.kggv,,v,c.c.c. This last is a message from Jessie. Decipher it if you can.

Don (Daffy Duck) dropped by with his latest girlfriend. She seems like a very nice lady and not his usual girlfriend at all. She has two boys, 5 and 10, and lives with her parents and bakes brownies and muffins for a living. (I wonder how many brownies she had to bake to buy the gold Rolex.) They have known each other forever. Ages ago, he took her to the Junior High Prom and she spilled barbecue sauce on his crotch.

This morning I worked all morning rearranging the cats' room and cleaning it up, vacuuming all the litter and cat food out of the carpet. While I was in the shower, Jessie re-carpeted the room with kitty litter. I'm hoping I can catch a nap soon

Lightning ran the phone line to the Fax, and Hewlett has to go back to the store for an exchange today, so I must close for now. Write soon.



Page 1 - How I Wrote This Book | The Root Doctor
Page 2 - A Spell is Cast | The Voodoo Priestess | Psychic Healing
Page 3 - Sudden Death | A Hole in the Wall | Crystal Woman
     Spirit Tunnel
Page 4 - The Seance | The Light
Page 5 - The Portal | Wings of Love | Bene Ha Elohim
     Lord Pacal and the Maya
Page 6 - Pacal's Bride | Wacah Chan | A Murder was Committed
     The Mysterious Woman | A Swarm of Sparks
Page 7 - The Vortex | Portal in the Cathedral | Guede Cosmo
     The Androgyny | The Philosopher's Stone
Page 8 - Sexual Alchemy | Tantra Yoga | Feng Shui
Page 9 - Keys in the Enochian Language | The River of Life
Page 10 - The Number Four | The Phaistos Disk
     The Star of David
Page 11 - Sacred Indian Ground | Spirit Possession
     Rules of Congaylia | The Heaven Plane
Page 12 - The Lovers | Ancash-Tica
Page 13 - Searchable Index | Bibliography

Copyright Notice - Disk of the World - Text and images copyrighted March 21, 1993-2023, Claire Grace Watson, B.A., M.S.T., U.S. Copyright and under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998.