Um, it’s just me. The seasoned wrangler is actually Morgan Drake who has no double letters. Still, I’m leaving in my double letters because it makes me grin!
Yeah, it’s probably just me. But what our wrranglerrs asked of us was, ”
Share your Oddest, Most Interesting, Most Educational associations that you have adapted in your divination practice. Have you discovered yourself reading for circus clowns, disgruntled teenagers, aliens from outer space, or a herd of cats? “
Really? They want me, queen of the weird shit, to answer that? Twice? (You will also see me on my WitchesandPagan.com blog if you do the whole hop. I hope you will. And please? Leave comments? That’s all we ask of you. Even if it is just “Arwen is making me leave a comment.” Thanks!
I have a metric shit ton of weird stories. True weird stories. Stories you just can’t make up. Let’s start with the missing baby one, shall we?
First, I worked on a 1-900-Psycho line. Sorry, Psychic. My mother and sister loved calling it a psycho line. And I loved them for it. They have my humor. Not everyone does.
Right…back to the missing baby. The woman stayed silent while I proscribed the ritual to her. I assumed she was writing everything down. Well, she was, but she had a huge question for me at the end.
“Why did you say three of everything? I told you I’d had two miscarriages.”
I was stunned into silence (which is also an oddity in the life of this Aquarius rising.) “Ummmm, I guess I heard you wrong?” I answered even though I knew I hadn’t.
That’s when she said, “No, I don’t think you did. I didn’t tell you about the first baby I lost. I had an abortion…”
THUD. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was young. I had been reading on the line for about a month. This was one of my first instances of learning to trust what falls out of my mouth. Somehow I knew three was the number. That had come through me without me filtering it.
I never heard back from her. I can only hope that she now has the children I saw for her. They would be in college by now or graduated.
That’s my first odd story, but not my last. Keep on hopping to read everyone else’s odd associations.
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