My mom dropped off the skull for me today, it is currently soaking in a bucket of hot bleach water in our shed, once it is clean I will be working with it more. For now, I have to practice more patience.
The skull is missing the lower jaw and teeth, including one canine, but I talked to it, and carefully placed it into the bucket to begin cleaning it. It smelled mostly of old dirt, and dust, and is the color of wet newspaper. I got a faint sense of Someone there, but the age and coloring of the bones tell me that the spirit of the raccoon may have passed on. I am approaching this as if the spirit is still there, trying to handle the skull gently, whispering a greeting and reassurance when I removed it from the bag (I found myself using the “awww cute animal” voice that I have found most animals cause me to revert to).
My mom kept trying to ask me why I wanted it, and seems to just accept my “weird” desire to collect bones, as long as I clean them properly. Last night I asked her online if she had it, and she joked that yes, she did, and it was tasty. She asked me what I wanted it for, and I told her I wanted it for bone soup. She then immediately logged off, and disappeared without another word. I called the house to see what was up, I had visions of her in the backyard with the skull in a hole, after calling a young priest, and an old priest, while splashing it with holy water and praying.
Luckily that was not the case, she had only logged off to move from her laptop upstairs to the desktop downstairs. She laughed at me for thinking that, but honestly I don’t know whether my imaginings were that far off the mark. She once threw a huge fit because I was reading Tarot cards in her house, so nowadays I can’t tell which I will get. The woman who gets me crystals, smudge sticks, branches to make rune sets or vines to weave into a pentacle. Or the woman who says I brought demons into her home by reading books on Paganism, and decides to cast them out by burning all of my books, a wand kit, and a kid’s book on Wizards that my ex’s family got me because they thought that I needed it.
Anyways, enough trips down memory lane, I don’t need the hassle. While I wait for my drum to finish drying, and for my skull to bleach, I have been sewing the new home for my collection, but I need to redo the bottom. It is the wrong shape and makes the pouch too boxy.