Category Archives: Gypsies

FAQs: How do you take payment? When do I pay you? With what do I pay you? How exactly do I place an order?

How do you take payment? When do I pay you? With what do I pay you? How exactly do I place an order?

When do you pay me? Before the spell is started. It’s just like you were walking into McDonald’s: your order the fries, you pay for the fries, you sit back and wait while they head out back and make the fries. Just like that. You order the spell, you pay for the spell, than you wait while I head out to make you your spell.

How do I accept payment? Cash only. You can pay me in person with cash or you can pay me online via PayPal and wait for PayPal to give the money to my bank and wait for my bank to give me the cash for you. In any case, until I have the actual cash physically in my hand I won’t lift a finger to do a bit of work for you.

How to I take payment?

Cash in person or PayPal online.

With what do you pay me?

Cash and cash only.

In person, I only accept cash. I do not accept checks unless you are a close and trusted long time client and I know you have the money and the check won’t bounce. I’m sorry, but I’ve delt with too many scam clients and their bouncing rubber checks, and I no longer accept checks as a result. I can not accept credit cards or money orders or travelers cheques or wired money or non-American currancy because I am not a business, I do not have a cash register, I wouldn’t know how to turn your wires/Franques/ruppies/yen/etc into US coinage and greenbacks and I have no way to scan or accept your card, I am just an old Gypsy woman, living in a 22 foot motorhome with 15 cats.

Online, I only accept PayPal. Payments can be sent via PayPal to xavychup@yahoo.com . And as PayPal waits 5 to 7 days before transfering the money to my bank and my bank in turn waits another 5 to 7 days before giving me the money, that therefore means that if you pay online, you will have to wait upto 3 weeks before I start work on your spell, because Honey, until I have cold hard cash in my hand, I do not consider your bill paid, I will do not work without being paid up front. Don’t tell me PayPal has it, don’t tell me it’s in the back…that means nothing to me. It PayPal has it than it’s of no good to me is it, seeing as I don’t have it yet. Likewise if the bank has it, it isn’t yet mine either, is it?

How do you place your order?

You place your order one of two ways:

No Hurry

#1) You walk up to the door of No Hurry, knock on the door, get attacked by 15 cats while you wait for me to answer the door, you tell me what you want, I tell you what you need, you give me the money and your email address than go home, in a few days I get started on your spell and keep in touch with you about it via email.

My Home, My Office, My Front Door

#2) You head to my Etsy shop, tell me what you what, I’ll tell you what you need, in a few days I’ll set up a custom listing for you, you buy that listing, pay Etsy, Etsy pays PayPal, PayPal pays my bank, my bank pays me and after I have the cash in hand (which has been known to take up to 3 weeks) than I will start doing your spell.

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Good morning Starshine! Liked this post? Looking to connect with me online? I love social networks and am on most of them. You can find me on: BloggerEtsyFaceBookGoogle+KeenMySpaceNaNoWriMoProBoardsScript FrenzySpoonflowerSquidooTwitterULC Ministers NetworkWordPress, and Zazzle Feel free to give me a shout any  time. Many blessings to you, may all your silver clouds be lined with rhinestones and sparkle of golden sunshine. Have yourself a great and wonderful glorious day!

~Rev. Wendy C. Allen aka Empress EelKat of Laughing Gnome Hollow

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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Laughing Gnome Hollow’s Traditional Gypsy Magic and Scottish Hoodoo Blog @ http://laughinggnomehollow.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

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Did you know you can now get a FREE Kindle for your PC? Be sure to download your FREE Kindle directly from Amazon today. Don’t have Windows PC? No worries! Amazon is also offering 100% FREE Kindles for: AndroidWindows Phone 7MaciPhone, and BlackBerry. And don’t miss out on over 1.8 million Free eBooks from Amazon’s Kindle Store.



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FAQs: Who initiated you? By what authority do you do these things; what laying on of hands gave you this power? What paradigm are you part of? What path do you follow? Who were your teachers? How can I learn to do what you do?

Each of these questions was asked separately by seperate individuals, but I am combining them together as one, because each in essance is the same question, asking the same thing, with different  use of wording:

Who initiated you? By what authority do you do these things; what laying on of hands gave you this power? What paradigm are you part of? What path do you follow? Who were your teachers? How can I learn to do what you do?

Can you see how each question, though differant is also the same?

Let’s look at each question individually, shall we?

Who initiated you? 

Initiated? You suggest that my job has religious connections. You are of the false assumption that to be a magical being requires the permission of a religion. I’m sorry, but I’m not a religon crazed creep like you. I have free will. I don’t answer to no man. No one bosses me around. No one tells me what to do. Initiations, baptismes, and passing down of authority from one person to another, is a stricty religion thing to do, and there ain’t no religion in what I do. Why would I require initiation? I am not the slave of some coven preist. Why would I require initiation? I am not the slave of some church preisthood. I am free, just the way God made me, why would I want to tell God he made me wrong when he made me free? By giving up my freedom to some church, coven, or religion, I turn my back on God. By becoming part of some church, coven, or religion, I tell God he didn’t know what he was doing. By following the leaders of some church, coven, or religion, I tell God he ain’t good enough for me to be my personal Lord Almighty. By joining some church, coven, or religion, I tell God that I believe men have more power and authority than he does. To be initiated into anything is to insult God and bitch slap him right across the face.

By what authority do you do these things; what laying on of hands gave you this power? 

By the authority given to me by the God of Creation. He created me. He made me what I am. No human lay hands on me. No human has the right. No human has the power. Humans are just humans. Any Human who comes to you and says that you can not do a thing, without them first using their authority of laying on of hands to bless you and endow you with power, is nothing more than a power hungry, pompus, self-rightious, delued jackass.

Again, you suggest that my job has religious connections. You are of the false assumption that to be a magical being requires the permission of a religion. I’m sorry, but I’m not a religon crazed creep like you. By what authority, does any man claiming to have a authority, get his authority? Why should I take orders from a man instead of from God? I have free will. I don’t answer to no man. No one bosses me around. No one tells me what to do.

Why would I require initiation? I am not the slave of some coven preist. Why would I require initiation? I am not the slave of some church preisthood. I am free, just the way God made me, why would I want to tell God he made me wrong when he made me free? By giving up my freedom to some church, coven, or religion, I turn my back on God. By becoming part of some church, coven, or religion, I tell God he didn’t know what he was doing. By following the leaders of some church, coven, or religion, I tell God he ain’t good enough for me to be my personal Lord Almighty. By joining some church, coven, or religion, I tell God that I believe men have more power and authority than he does. To be initiated into anything is to insult God and bitch slap him right across the face.

What paradigm are you part of? 

You’ll have to wait while I go, Google that word, because I’ve never heard it before and I have no idea what it means, what you are asking, or what the heck it is you want to know.

Okay, paridigum, seems to be another term for religion and is used in lue of the word religion when talking about magic arts. Various paradigms include: Wicca, Gardenarian Witchcraft, Druidism, Vudon, Alchemy, etc.

No. I’m not part of any group. I don’t belong to a coven, I don’t attend a church, I don’t sit around like a brainless drone being told what to do and when to do it. Again, you suggest that my job has religious connections. You are of the false assumption that to be a magical being requires the permission of a religion. I’m sorry, but I’m not a religious crazed creep like you. I have free will. I don’t answer to no man. No one bosses me around. No one tells me what to do.

What path do you follow?

Again, you suggest that my job has religious connections. You are of the false assumption that to be a magical being requires the permission of a religion. I’m sorry, but I’m not a religon crazed creep like you. I have free will. I don’t answer to no man. No one bosses me around. No one tells me what to do.

I am by race and culture a Scottish Traveller Gypsy, that fact alone means everything I do is done with the help of Faeries. Not cute, fluffy bunny Wicca flower fairies that ain’t nothing but simpering pansies, but real Faeries the Far-Darrigs, the Phookas, Red Caps, Polter Spirits,Leperauchauns,  Nixies, and Banshees…the people of the Mists, the dancers of the Fogs, the dwellers of Twighlight. I am a natural born Hedgewalker with an eye that can see beyond the viel wich seperates or realms and hides the Fae from humans. I practice the magic arts of my people: Hoodoo. I am a Hoodoo Witch Doctor, like my grandmothers before me and their gandmothers before them. I did not learn magic from books or corospondance schools, nor did them whom taught me. And there ain’t no African American folk magic in the Hoodoo I do. I do old Hoodoo, the way it was, when my people taught it to the African slave 300 years ago, the way it was when my people brought it to the Americas from Scotland 400 years ago, the way it was, when my ancestors from to Scotland from Siberia 2000 years ago. That is the path I follow. The path of my people, the path of the Gypsies, the path of the Tinckers, the path of the Scottish Travellers, the path of my ancestors.

Who were your teachers? 

My grandmothers Eva Viola Atwater, Helen Ricker-Allen, their freiend Etiole Swanzen, the family Bible brought here from Scotland many hundreds of years ago, and the Fae.

How can I learn to do what you do?

Join a Gypsy Caravan, marry into a Gypsy Clan, become the apprentice to a Gypsy rootworker.

Much of Gypsy magic and Hoodoo comes from the Bible. Read the Bible. The instructions are all there.  Read it and do what it says. Learn your Bible well, know it inside out. Read it every day, cover to cover, and when you get done, read it again. Never stop reading it. After the 20 or 30 time, you’ll begin to see: the root recipes of Jacob, the incantations of Daniel, the mighty words of Jesus…when at last you see them, use them in your magic.

Old Gypsy magic, which pre-dates the Bible, comes from the realm of Fae. The Spirits of Hoodoo are dangerous beings, wild and violent, whom live among us, every day, unseen, unheard, walking beside us in a dimension which exists on Earth. They do not see us, we do not see them. But there are those among our people and theirs who can see through the Hedge which veils our world, they are known as The Hedgewalkers, people who exists neither here nor there, but walking freely in both worlds, passing through the Hedge at will. Gypsy rootworkers, are chosen as small children, chosen by the elders for their ability to see and communicate with the Fae. Unlike the nonGypsy who quelshes the gift and ridicules the child, accusing them of imaginary friends, the Gypsy encourage the communication between child and Fae. To Hoodoo is to speak one on one to the Sprits of other worlds. The only way you can Hoodoo as an adult, is if you ever Hoodooed as a child. If you ever saw ghosts, spirits, faeries, or had imaginary friends, than you were chosen by the Fae to walk the Hedge, and you can gain your natural born gift backl. Learn about the Fae. Learn everything you can. The most accurate book you could read, is Faeries by Brian Froud, and Passport to Magornia by Jacques Vallee. But remember: respect them, trust them, fear them, for to harness the power of the Fae in your magic, is to unleash the chaotic furry of a hurricane on the heads of all. Fae Magic is dangerous magic, not to be taken lightly. you misuse Fae Magic, you disrespect the Fae, you don’t get a second chance, you die. Tread carefully or don’t tread at all.

Learn to read cards (not Tarot, we Gypsies don’t use Tarot, that’s just a Hollywood myth. Tarot is used by the Romani. Gypsies and Romy are not the same. We Gypsies hate being called Roma, every bit as much as the Romi hate being called Gypsies.)

Learn how to use color magic, not just candles, but everything: ribbons, poppets, the clothes you wear, the place you live in, everything.

Learn divination: pendulum, cards, throwing shells/stones/crystals/bones, spirit boards, crystals.

Learn the plants which grow near you. Learn to dry them, use them, and know what they do.

Learn to pray. Learn to bless. Learn to wash and cleanse (spirit baths).

Remove all impurities from your life: meat, strong drink, smoking, drugs, infidelity, fornication, adultery, sex if not married, if married sex only with your partner – forever, even after they die.

Gypsy Magic and Hoodoo is not a quick and easy path, you can’t learn all you need to know in a year and a day…the only way to learn it is to live it, commit yourself to it. You look to this and expect to find a religion you can join, but there is no religion. It is not a religion, it is a way of life.

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Good morning Starshine! Liked this post? Looking to connect with me online? I love social networks and am on most of them. You can find me on: BloggerEtsyFaceBookGoogle+KeenMySpaceNaNoWriMoProBoardsScript FrenzySpoonflowerSquidooTwitterULC Ministers NetworkWordPress, and Zazzle Feel free to give me a shout any  time. Many blessings to you, may all your silver clouds be lined with rhinestones and sparkle of golden sunshine. Have yourself a great and wonderful glorious day!

~Rev. Wendy C. Allen aka Empress EelKat of Laughing Gnome Hollow

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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Laughing Gnome Hollow’s Traditional Gypsy Magic and Scottish Hoodoo Blog @ http://laughinggnomehollow.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

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Did you know you can now get a FREE Kindle for your PC? Be sure to download your FREE Kindle directly from Amazon today. Don’t have Windows PC? No worries! Amazon is also offering 100% FREE Kindles for: AndroidWindows Phone 7MaciPhone, and BlackBerry. And don’t miss out on over 1.8 million Free eBooks from Amazon’s Kindle Store.



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More Hate Crimes Against Scottish Gypsies

BIG FAT GYPSY WAR ZONE.

Pittiful the way our people get treated. I’m not allowed to live on my own land, land that belonged to my father, his mother, and her father before her, because I now live in a motorhome. I live in a motorhome because of hate crimes that resulted in my house being burned down. :( I can’t afford to built a new house, thus why I had to move into a motorhome, but the police say that’s not allowed and are forcing me to sleep outside at night under a tarp, instead of inside the motorhome where it is warm and dry. :(

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Good morning Starshine! Liked this post? Looking to connect with me online? I love social networks and am on most of them. You can find me on: BloggerEtsyFaceBookGoogle+KeenMySpaceNaNoWriMoProBoardsScript FrenzySpoonflowerSquidooTwitterULC Ministers NetworkWordPress, and Zazzle Feel free to give me a shout any  time. Many blessings to you, may all your silver clouds be lined with rhinestones and sparkle of golden sunshine. Have yourself a great and wonderful glorious day!

~Rev. Wendy C. Allen aka Empress EelKat of Laughing Gnome Hollow

————————————————————————————————————

This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Laughing Gnome Hollow’s Traditional Gypsy Magic and Scottish Hoodoo Blog @ http://laughinggnomehollow.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

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Did you know you can now get a FREE Kindle for your PC? Be sure to download your FREE Kindle directly from Amazon today. Don’t have Windows PC? No worries! Amazon is also offering 100% FREE Kindles for: AndroidWindows Phone 7MaciPhone, and BlackBerry. And don’t miss out on over 1.8 million Free eBooks from Amazon’s Kindle Store.



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Eva (Essay #2 for SMCC ENGL-100 Spring Semester 2012)

Here is a copy of Essay #2:






Wendy C. Allen
English 100-15
Dan Clarke
Essay #2
April 25, 2012


Eva

One of my earliest memories, was of a road trip to Mt Washington in New Hampshire. I was 6, maybe 7 at the time. I was sitting in the backseat of a 1964 Dodge 330 4-door sedan, a former Old Orchard Beach police car, now painted metallic orange. On either side of me sat an old lady. The older one, at five foot one, was only inches taller then I was, had short curly hair, was known for her wild temper, spiteful ways, starting fist fights, putting curses on everyone in sight, spoke with a Scottish accent so thick you could barely discern she was speaking English, and in the 1960s had embraced the passion of wearing purple polyester. The other, twenty years younger than the first, with hair not quite as grey, stood five foot eight, had very dark tan skin, kept her hair tied in two long pigtail braids, and having just arrived back home from (yet another) trip to Hawaii, was dressed in a long ruffled muumuu with butterflies so huge, that only two fit across it. Neither had ever driven a car, both remembered the days long before cars existed.  

“Nobody ever takes me anywhere,” complained one.

“Oh, I know it, it’s it terrible, nobody ever takes me anywhere either,” answered the other.

They spent the next several miles discussing how they each did nothing all day but sit home alone, never got out of the house, and had overall dull, boring lives. The conversation was ironic, considering, neither had any idea where they was, seeing as some 100 miles or so back, we had taken a wrong turn and where now wandering aimlessly on the unmapped dirt roads which weave their way around the New Hampshire White Mountains.

Their conversation went on in endless babble, until the Scottish woman pulled out a ham sandwich and offered it to the Indian woman, a Seventh Day Adventist and Huna practitioner, and therefore a strict vegetarian and animal rights activist. An all out food fight ensued with pieces of ham sandwiches being thrown from one side of the car to the other. It was always eventful sitting between my two grandmothers on a long road trip, you never knew whether you should wear yellow to match the mustard or white to match the mayo. I was quite used to this by now, as we took a road trip every weekend and airborne slices of tomato, flying lettuce, and hamburger patties sliding down the windshield, was just the way it was. My parents had long ago given up on asking their parents to sit down and behave.

Until that moment you would have thought the two women best of friends. However, nothing could have been farther from the truth. The two women hated one another, had spent many years feuding, and had only been sitting peacefully together in the red shag backseat of a giant orange car, because one’s son had married the other’s daughter and any chance to spend time with their grandbaby was worth having to put up with one another’s company for a few hours. To the untrained eye, the ham sandwich, had been an innocent mistake, however any one who knew Helen Ricker-Allen knew all too well that she did not normally eat ham, and had gone out of her way to buy ham, specifically for this event, knowing full well that meat of all kinds, but most especially pig, was off Eva’s menu. The screaming and yelling, died down when we reached the top of Mt. Washington, but the slices of ham were firmly stuck to the windows and ceiling for the rest of the trip.

My memories of Grammy Helen are few, many of them involving hospital visits, though most are of her screaming a waving knives as she chased someone down the road. Seems like she was always screaming, always waving knives in the air, throwing ham sandwiches, and always running down the road, whenever she wasn’t reading bird books or tending to her massive flower garden. I was just 8 years old when she died of cancer. When Grammy Helen died, I inherited her land, her grandmother’s 200 year old rosebush, her Liberace records, her 1971 MTD 3-Wheel MudBug (yes, she was an 82 year old woman with an ATV), her comic books (which set a Guinness Book Record, for containing the largest and most complete run of Disney comic books), the family Bible/Grimoire (a giant and ancient Medieval volume weighing close to 40lbs and passed down through our family for centuries), and her title: Queen of the Gypsies, Hedgewitch, Witch Doctor, Fortune Teller, and caster of spells. Grammy Helen was a Scottish Traveller, part Christian, part Pagan (Welsh Faery Faith aka Traditional Witchcraft and Scottish Hoodoo aka European Voodoo) and all Witch. Not a fru-fru Wiccan witch wannabe, like what you see today, but the real deal black magic, curses, hexes and everything.

Her name was Eva Viola LittleJohn/Dyer. She was an Indian, who disliked and refused to use the term “Native American”. Some records say she was Kickapoo, others say Micmac. Orphaned at age 3, no one really knew much about her family, other then she was a “red skinned savage”, and the child of a unmarried flapper of the 1920s. Her mother’s favorite book was Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and she was named after the character “Little Eva”.   Her mother was a prostitute and a colored woman, who in 1921 did the unthinkable and attempted to be a single unwed mother, raising a child on her own. She had two other children as well. Records are unclear as to how exactly she died, just that she did, leaving 3 small children alone. The older girl had lighter skin, could be passed off as white, and was quickly adopted, but her beauty was her downfall and as a teenager she was raped and beaten, her head bashed in with a baseball bat. Miraculously she lived, but remained for the rest of her life with one side of her skull, pulverised and flattened, looking as though half of her head had been cut clean off, barely recognizable as having once been human, and in a mental institute for the rest of her 80 long years. We found out what happened to her, only weeks before she died, when Pineland Center shut down and sent its patients free to wander the streets. In what would be yet another long road trip we drove Grammy to see her sister. It was the first and only time the two sisters had seen each other since their mother had died.

Raised by the Shakers in the 1920s, she lived in abusive foster care, told she was worthless due to her race, seen as free labour to do the hardest dirtiest tasks of the Shaker Village at Sabbathday Lake, Maine. If you go to the village today, which is now a living history museum, look at the old photos on the wall, and notice the little girl, the scullery maid hard at work scrubbing clothes at the washboard – that’s her, that’s Little Eva, scrubbing till her fingers bleed, then locked in a closet each night without supper to punish her for being born “red as the devil”.

As a teenager, Eva ran away, hitch-hiked to Portland, Maine, joined the Seventh Day Adventist church, and married the getaway driver of Honeyfitz Kennedy’s rum-running gang, who also claimed to be “the one true” king of all kings of the Gypsies, Scottish Traveller David Henry Atwater of Nova Scotia. Their early years had been happy, but in his mid-20s David Henry caught Scarlet Fever, went blind, and became a bitter, angry, violent man, mad at life and every one who still had their sight. Eva’s young adult years were spent in terror of an abusive husband, who took to locking her in dark closets, to punish her for not having gone blind as well.

What people did not see, was that Grammy liked to put on a show, and the pumpkins, black cats, baby pram, and broomsticks were all the act of a carnival clown. Grammy’s early life, overshadowed with many years of neglect and abuse had taught her to see the world, through the eyes of compassion. A closer look inside that baby pram, revealed more than cats enjoying a ride, but also food to hand out to the homeless. The cats were more then just there for the ride, many of the homeless had lost pets when they lost their homes, and hugging cats is often desired more than food. The roller skates got her on her daily “walks” from Biddeford to Portland faster. The long flowing robes, hid the many coin purses, used to fill all the expired parking meters of downtown Portland. And the broom? Eva stopped at every door step along the way, to sweep it clean. The song? She had seen the world and it was beautiful, but here back home was so much suffering and sadness, people starving in the streets, with nothing to hope for.

While her ways were bizarre, there was a method to her madness: “I was the mother to many, the friend to all, I’ve seen the world, I want to share the joy, and make you smile.” Making people smile, bringing a little joy into their otherwise dreary day, was why she did the things she did.

Because of her actions and her spending so much time with the homeless, people often said of her “That’s that crazy homeless cat woman.” By the non-homeless, she was often criticized, had rocks thrown at her, more then once put in the hospital, and was several times beaten up by good upstanding citizens who “don’t want your kind around here – go get a job you filthy bum”. She was not, as they had falsely judged, either jobless or homeless. They didn’t know she went home each night to one of the biggest sea captain mansions in Biddeford, that she had not 1, but rather 3 jobs, working in the shoe mill, a nanny, and caring for elderly in nursing homes, or that when not putting on her clown act show to entertain the homeless of Portland, she looked just as normal as you or I. She often remarked at how surprised she was, by the difference in how people treated her, the exact same people, did not recognize her as the same person, when all that had changed was the addition of a baby pram full of cats and a pair of roller skates. “It’s pitiful, that they have such a lack of compassion and judge a person only by her clothes.” Compassion for others motivated everything she did.

It is from Grammy Eva, that I learned compassion for everyone, regardless age, race, gender, religion, health, lifestyle, income, social status, or species. Everyone deserves a second chance. Everything has the right to live. Through her combining Adventism with Huna, and Native American traditions, Grammy Eva taught me to love and respect life: humans, animals, plants, water, all of it. Compassion for everything and everyone; to live and to let live. Her religion and her traditions motivated her actions.

In the end, her faith, or rather her church and religion, let her down, and ultimately cost her, her life. A devout Seventh Day Adventist, she lived the strict lifestyle, denouncing foods from animal products, eating only church owned soy products made by SDA owned companies Morning Star, Worthington, and Kellogg’s, eating what she was told, when she was told, denouncing meat, pants, short hair, jewelry, and make-up as being the cause of all sickness and disease, avoiding doctors because doctors were a sin, all because her pastor told her to. When she got sick, she was told to praise the Lord, avoid Satan’s evil doctors, and ignore the pain. After 6 years of ignoring the pain, she went in secret to a doctor, was told she had breast cancer, and needed surgery. Her pastor found out and condemned her as a sinner for having seen the doctor, than forbade her to have the surgery. Three more years of pain and suffering passed before she fell on the ice, broke her hip, returned to the doctor and while there, had the tumor removed, by this time however the cancer had spread to her liver and pancreas. Eva died on Thanksgiving morning only a few months after the surgery.














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Did you know you can now get a FREE Kindle for your PC? Be sure to download your FREE Kindle directly from Amazon today. Don’t have Windows PC? No worries! Amazon is also offering 100% FREE Kindles for: Android, Windows Phone 7, Mac, iPhone, and BlackBerry. And don’t miss out on over 1.8 million Free eBooks from Amazon’s Kindle Store.

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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat


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The People of the Mists: A Short History of Scottish Traveller Gypsies, And How I Came to be Known as the Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach Essay #1 for SMCC ENGL100 Spring 2012

Here is essay #1 for class:

Wendy C Allen                                                                                                          
Dan Clarke
ENGL 100-15
Essay #1
Inspired by Explorations #1 & #3
March 26, 2012

The People of the Mists:
A Short History of Scottish Traveller Gypsies,
And How I Came to be Known as the Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach

*It is important to note that what is said here, is not a history of all Scottish Traveller Gypsies on a whole, but rather the history, simply of one Clan (family) within the race, as much as is known through family records, diaries, and verbal traditions. The accuracy of the words found within these documents and traditions is unknown. The documents were written between 1611 and 1948. The later events which take place in Old Orchard Beach from 1811 onward, are very well documented and are known from family records, newspaper clippings, court records, photographs, postcards, and documents found at both the Town Hall and the Old Orchard Beach Historical Society. Events taking place after 1975, are personal first hand witness accounts of my own life. This essay is written in response to reader comments of two prior articles I had written: “Dark Inspirations” and “Hidden in the Shadows”.  Specifically this essay seeks to answer the following questions: “Could you give the reader a bit more about who you are and how you ended up in Old Orchard Beach?” (in reference to “Dark Inspirations”) and “How might you bring yourself into this piece more, either as a character or narrator or both? Do you have any experiance with this group? If so, what is it?” (in reference to “Hidden in the Shadows”).

They are a strange people the Scottish Travelers. Their origins are a mystery, their history shaded and sketchy, and their customs seen as outlandish and other worldly. Ceàrdannan is their native name, spoken in their native tongue; it means “The Craftsmen” or “The Tinkers” in English translation, (a name they receive due to their many crafting traditions including tin smithing, weaving cloth, and carving bright colored wagons) though most folks tend to call them The Indigenous Highland Travellers of Scotland or The Scottish Traveller Gypsies. While many consider them to be Celtic, they were in fact discovered by the Celts. Nationalities between family groups (known as Clans) varies, with some clans claiming Romanian or Indian descent, and others claiming German or Egyptian descent. The common thread is that each clan makes the same claim of Pict descent. The theory thus being that the Travellers descended from the Picts, and picked up mixed nationality marriages along their travels. Unfortunately, these histories come to us after being passed down for centuries via word of mouth. Very little written documentation exists regarding Travellers, or rather, very little written by the Travellers themselves. Much of what exists is hate-filled propaganda written by Christian witch hunters of the 16th century and Nazi soldiers of the 20th century; these documents being of course written to promote hate and to document the massive, tens of thousands of Gypsies who were killed during these two devastating “racial cleansings”.

My own family is unique among Travellers, in that, detailed documents were written and passed down for generations. I am today, in possession of what Christians refer to as “the family Bible”, or what Pagans call “a Witch’s Grimoire”. The Bible itself it a rare item. Difficult to carry due to its massive size, this giant hand tooled, hand illustrated, leather bound volume contains testament books and scriptural verses not found in currently published editions of the Bible. Within its pages, however, lie more than curiosities for the Bible scholar. Careful turning of pages reveals herbs, flowers, feathers, and four-leaf clovers pressed between its brittle yellow pages, along with letters, notes, spells, prayers, recipes, and at the very heart of the book, written on its pages a list of names, dates, births, deaths, and marriages dating back for centuries.
Even with written documents, our family’s exact origins are sketchy. Older traditions come from 19th century writings, romanticizing the past, and are questionable as to their accuracy. Putting together the bits and pieces of both written and oral information I was able to assemble a timeline of sorts. While all 300+ living members of the Clan call themselves Scottish, tradition suggests that the earliest roots of our Clan, descended not from Scotland, but rather, from North Asian Russia, specifically to the Shaman of Siberia or perhaps Alaska which was still connected to Russia, all those many centuries ago. There is the suggestion that they may have migrated to Siberia from Mongolia, due to our current families physical appearance, as well as magical arts traditions which have a Mongolian “flair” to them. Both the Siberian and Mongolian connections, however, appear to be little more than romantic speculation.

While the exact place origin is a guess at best, the one fact which remains clear and consistent, regardless of time or place, is that our family has remained throughout the centuries within only one, single, solitary career: religion or rather a form of witchcraft. Often the words “priest” and “priestess”, are used to describe family members throughout the centuries, as well as the words: “holy woman”, “witch”, “witch doctor”, “weather witch”, “shaman”, and “healer”. In the earliest mentions, these titles seem to be exclusive to female members, but beginning in the 1920’s males are also seen with these titles. The earliest ones appeared to have been Shaman or Holy People, who wandered from village to village, performing sacred “magic” rites (blessings, curses, and communications with spirits), having no true home and simply living with whomever had requested their services that week. It is this wandering nature and the mention of place names from all reaches of the globe, from North America to Europe to China to Australia, which makes tracing my family’s exact place of origin, nearly impossible. The travelling tradition appears to run deep in our blood, dating at least as far back as the 7th century.

These Shaman eventually arrived in Scandinavia, though both the date of arrival and the exact country is unknown, where they seemed to have settled for a brief period and married into the local families. From here the Shaman tradition mixes with the Norse tradition, and was brought to, what is now, Scotland via the Viking voyages. In Scotland, the already mixed marriages mixed even farther, this time with the Picts. Though not native themselves, the Picts were there before the Roman Celts, and presumed to be natives, thus the current name: The Indigenous Highlanders, or just The Scottish Highlanders. Highlanders remain, to this day, a unique and somewhat mysterious part of Scotland’s cultural landscape. While in Scotland, Hoodoo and Witchcraft are picked up and become the grounding force of all following religious practices. My family’s history does not end here, however, because though Scotland remains their home for apparently 3 or 4 centuries, they do eventually take to the nomadic lifestyle once again.

Our history becomes clearer in the 1400’s, though still in scattered bits and pieces and heavy with speculation. What is known, is that they were landowners, lords, rulers, aristocrates, considered to be a form of royalty among the Scottish natives, and living in a vast stone fortress, the remains of which still stands today in what is now Kent, England. There was a war or invasion, caused by what, is unknown. What is known it that several families/Clans were forced out of their homes, off their land, and marched out of Scotland.

Vowing never again allow any man to steal their homes from them, they declared the entire world as their home, and refused to ever again settle down. They became known from that point on as The Tinkers or Scottish Travellers. Some set out on foot, others set out in wagons, a few took to the sea. In the early years, most wandered about in Germany, resulting in horrendous tales of terror of bands of brightly colored pipers using witchcraft and sorcery to enchant everything from rats to children. Countless stories abound through Germany, of ‘The People of the Mists” and their “Pied Pipers”, dressed in outlandish robes of bright colored striped cloth (they knew of no other way to describe kilts and plaids), marching through their streets while playing “magic pipes” (and likewise knew not what to call bagpipes). The most famous of these tales about the German “invasion” by the Scottish Travellers, was of course “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” and its tale of being sent a gypsy curse of a plague of rats, only to have a bright colored piper gypsy remove the curse, than bring a worse curse by kidnapping the children. Few people are aware of the fact that Robert Brownings poem was based on actual events.

By the late 1500’s the German witch hunts had started, and 20,000 “witches”, most of them Gypsies, were tortured to death, often ending with being drawn and quartered. The Scottish Travelers fled Germany and went into Romania (from where the common, yet inaccurate, title of “Rom”, “Romany”, or “Romi” comes). What happened between Romania in the 1500s and Canada in the 1800s, is unknown, with the only fact being that at some point the Scottish Travellers ended up in France and had a major falling out with the French, so bad, that the Travellers destroyed all “memory” of their connections to the French, and maintains a bitter feud with and hatred for, any French person whose paths they cross.

It is not until the 1700’s that the details of our family history, become clearly documented. The family today is a blending of several Clan, most predominantly the Rickers of Portland, Maine and the Atwaters of Nova Scotia, Canada. The Rickers married into the Googins and Lewis families in the early 1800s, and married into the Atwater Clan in 1973. It is in Maine and Canada, through connections to the Jacob Cochran and Joseph Smith Sr (father of the founder of Mormonism) of Saco, Maine, that the Travellers picked up Christianity or rather more specifically Cochranite worship, later renamed Mormonism by Smith’s son, in the early 1830s.

The Googins arrived in Saco Bay in 1648, where they settled a 300 acre plot of land on what is now 128 – 152 Portland Avenue in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. Over the years the land was sub-divided and given to children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Today all that remains still owned by the original family is the quarter acre lot at 146 Portland Avenue, where lives the Clan’s current Shaman/Holy Woman, Miss Kitten the EelKat, Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach and Queen of the Gypsies, also known as Maine’s infamous Crazy Homeless Cat Woman, with her ever growing army of rescued cats (84 cats at its height, though only 16 cats today.).

In about 1811 the Ricker Clan (owners of the ancient Bible) of Portland, Maine, married into the Googins, Lewis, and Allen Clans of Portland, then moved to a nearby bay. George Ricker, declared himself  “ruler” (as well as mayor, road commissioner, and fire chief) of this new land, which he named “The Orchard by the Sea”. In 1821, it was renamed The Town on the Old Orchard Beach, and the Travellers set out to do what they did best: set up a carnival, only this time a permanent one known as The Palace Playland. To celebrate the founding of his new Kingdom (town) he gave his wife Rose Ricker a rosebush, which, now, being at least 191 years old, is still alive and growing, standing at 13 feet tall.  Their daughter Helen Ricker went on to run the school board, the firefighters wives society, and founded nearly every women’s group active in Old Orchard between the 1920s through the 1980s. During that time she also maintained a hobby of collecting comic books, crocheting, obsessing over Liberace, and casting spells and curses on everyone in sight.

The Rickers ran the town, which some nicknamed “The Dynasty of Old Orchard Beach”, on every level. Every town official, public works officer, school board member, police officer, fireman, and business owner was a Ricker, a Googins, an Allen, a Lewis, or a cousin of one of the above. Tourists were the income and the fairgrounds were massive, spanning for nearly 5 miles along the beachfront. The Ricker Dynasty came to a horrific end during the Burning of the White Way or the Second Great Fire of Old Orchard Beach in 1963 (the first was in 1907) which took out every ride, shop, and motel along the shore. This event came on the heels of the arrival of a brutal, violent, scam artist, polygamist, extreme Fundamentalist Mormon crime family: The Royal Highland Atwater Clan. When one thinks of Gypsies, most think of Cher’s “Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves” along side of news reports of terrorist crime families. For most Travellers this image is far from the truth, but for the Atwater Clan, this was a perfect image of who they were. The Atwaters brought with them honky tonks, bar rooms, drug dealers, prostitutes, pickpockets, petty thieves, fist fights, knife fights, and gunfights in the town square.

In 1968, feed up with the Ricker Dynasty, appalled by the Atwater arrogance and lack of moral decency, and recovering from one of the largest fires in Maine history, the townspeople gathered together in arms, and with the help of several shotgun armed State Police officers, drove the Gypsies and Travellers out of Old Orchard Beach at gunpoint. Residents today, old enough to remember the march, are quick to retell the nightmare tale of “The day the Gypsies were run out of town”, with its parade of over 300 cars, trucks, vans, jeeps, buses, trailers, wagons, and motorhomes escorted by police officers from every town in York County. They were marched to the New Hampshire border, where they were met by New Hampshire police who in turn marched them straight through to Vermont. The march continued, from state to state, until they arrived in Utah, the first state to not greet them at the border with an army of rifle toting patrolmen. The Atwaters settled in Ogden Utah, where they remain to this day.

Back in Old Orchard, the Rickers resigned their offices, and most of the family relocated back to Portland, in fact only one remained in Old Orchard Beach: the now elderly daughter of George Ricker, Helen Ricker-Allen and her son Kenneth Ricker-Allen with his wife Jeannie Atwater and their daughter Wendy. Newcomer King Weinstein took possession of the abandoned lands, plowed under the apple orchards, and began building the dozens of condominiums which now dot the beachfront.

When Grammy Helen died in 1983, I inherited her land, her grandmother’s rosebush, her Liberace records, her comic books (which set a Guinness Book Record, for containing the largest and most complete run of Disney comic books), the family Bible/Grimoire, and her title: Queen of the Gypsies, Holy Woman, Witch Doctor, Fortune Teller, and caster of spells. The Travellers are a highly religious people, part Christian (predominantly Mormon), part Pagan (Welsh Faery Faith aka Traditional Witchcraft and Scottish Hoodoo aka European Voodoo); they take with them in their travels, portable shrines to Jesus and The Little People and devoutly seek the services of their clan’s Holy Woman, a Hoodoo Witch Doctor. The Gypsy Holy Woman is one of the most glamorized, yet least understood traditions, of the Scottish Traveller Clans (Gypsy Fortune Teller, being the derogatory slang term commonly used by outsiders). The Holy Woman, communicate with the “Little People” (Faeries, Goblins, Leprechauns, etc). She is the clan member seen most often by outsiders, often she is the only clan-member non-Gypsies will ever encounter, due to her setting up a shop in town to read cards, tell fortunes, heal the sick, cast out demons, and make amulets to protect homes from evil spirits. This was a sacred tradition passed down from grandmother to granddaughter and the secrets of the craft closely guarded, with no one else in the clan knowing how she does what she does. The clan’s Holy Woman is considered to be the messenger between the gods and the mortals; she would be picked for training at an early age (3 or 4) based on her natural ability to see the Little People. As an ordained minister, counsellor, advisor, exorcist, spellcaster, card reader, and officiant of weddings and funerals, she would be one of the few  clan members knowing how to read and write, a result of a strict education in a Bible Seminaries, but not in a school. Emphasis of the Holy Woman’s education lay in Bible Studies and Christian Theology, again as with the rest of the clan’s children, her education is also often devoid of mathematics and sciences.

Of the many hundreds of members in my family, only a handful have been to school, fewer have attended high school, less than a dozen graduated, I am the first and one of only 2 non-schooled members to receive a GED, and I am one of only 2 to attend college. Though I did not go to school, I did attend 12 years of Bible Seminary instead. I am an ordained minister, however, while my formal training was through a Calvinist Bible Seminary (no traditional schooling) and my informal training came from three grandparents: Grammy Helen, a Scottish Witch, Grammy Eva, a Native American/Kickapoo Shaman, and and Grandpa David Henry, a Nova Scotian/Scotch Seer, Revelator, Prophet, and Mormon High Priest Patriarch.

I am the current Spiritual Leader of the Scottish Travellers of Maine. I am a ChristoPagan. I believe in the teachings of Jesus as a way of life, yet question him as God himself or the son of God, and in fact question if God is God, or just one of many more intelligent beings who exist in a plane of existence we yet to understand. As a practitioner and minister of the Faerie Faith, I also believe in Faeries, Leprechauns, Fardarrigs, Red Caps, Pixies, Silkies, Merrows, Phookas, Boggles, etc. I am a professional Hedgewalker, also known as a Hedge Witch, or Hoodoo Witch Doctor. In other words, I’m a medium who channels spirits and walks through life standing on the hedge dividing the physical world from the spirit world. When someone wants to talk to god, angels, faeries, spirits, a dead loved one – they come to me and I carry the message across the hedge of the mortal plain into the spirit realm.  I also read cards, cast spells, read crystals, hang clooties, sew Hoodoo Dolls, remove hexes, cast out evil spirits, and perform exorcisms, blessings, weddings, and funerals. Because I do most of what I do during massive storms, blizzards, and hurricanes while standing on the beach, lashed by 70mph winds and 20’ tides, I am known to the locals as “The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach”. Most of the local residents are terrified at my presence. when I walk too the beach, mothers grab their children, crying “Avert your eyes, don’t look at her, she’ll put a curse on you!”. There are some, so bold as to say it is my presence on the beach, which caused to storms. I simply laugh at them.

There are those who laugh at the thought of Faeries as a religious belief or that anyone in this day and age would take belief in Faeries seriously, or that Witches exist and Gypsy Magic is real, but Faerie Faith is in fact the ancient pre-Christian and pre-Celtic religion of the Pictish natives who inhabited the British Isles prior to the Celtic Invasion, and it, along with Witchcraft and Gypsy Black Magic Arts,  is the religion still practiced by my people. And, in spite of the laughter of many, thousands of people come to me, from all over the world, seeking my help, advice, and spiritual assistance. I am daily swamped with letters and emails from people in desperate situations, pleading for the removal of curses and the casting out of demons and evil spirits.

And that is the history, of my people, The Scottish Travellers, of my hometown, Old Orchard Beach, founded by my great-grandfather George Ricker, how I came to be a ChristoPagan Mormon, and how I came by the title of The Gypsy Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach.


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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat


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The Devil Went Down to Georgia: A Blog MeMe

Saturday, July 16, 2011


The Devil Went Down to Georgia

Welcome to Saturday: 9. What we’ve committed to our readers is that we will post 9 questions every Saturday. Sometimes the post will have a theme, and at other times the questions will be totally unrelated. Those weeks we do “random questions,” so-to-speak. We encourage you to visit other participants posts and leave a comment. Because we don’t have any rules, it is your choice. We hate rules. We love memes, however, and here is today’s meme!

Saturday 9: The Devil Went Down to Georgia

1. Do you believe in the concept of the devil?

2. What’s your favorite nickname that you’re called?

3. What would you do if someone cheated on you?

4. Do you ever cry at a movie?

5. Have you got “a ball & chain” or are you single? Are you happy with your status?

6. Who do you got to for advice?

7. When was the last time someone yelled at you?

8. When was the last time you spoke with someone that you met online?

9. Where did you go on your honeymoon? OR Where would you like to go on your honeymoon?

Thanks so much for joining us again at Saturday: 9. As always, feel free to come back, see who has participated and comment on their posts. In fact sometimes, if you want to read & comment on everyone’s responses, you might want to check back again tomorrow. But it is not a rule. We haven’t any rules here. Join us on next Saturday for another version of Saturday: 9, “Just A Silly Meme on a Saturday!” Enjoy your weekend!

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Saturday 9: The Devil Went Down to Georgia

1. Do you believe in the concept of the devil?

I used to. Not so much any more.

2. What’s your favorite nickname that you’re called?

I’ve never had one.

3. What would you do if someone cheated on you?

You mean, what did I do. Contacted the cheatees (there were more than one) to find out why they thought it was alright to break up another couple and found out that none of the women knew anything about any of the others, and all were upset by the fact that they were being cheated on.

4. Do you ever cry at a movie?

Yes. Death and happy endings and any character crying always makes me cry too.

5. Have you got “a ball & chain” or are you single? Are you happy with your status?

Single and going back and forth between happy about it and not wanting to be.

6. Who do you got to for advice?

Me? Are you kidding? I’m too busy giving advice and answering  the 30,000 emails I get from my fans to have time to ask for advice for myself! LOL! It’s probably why I’m so good at answering these blog memes: I’m so used to answering a stead stream of questions from every one who needs help with some area of their life and I’m always the person they turn to to get advice from, though I’m not entirely sure why that is.

7. When was the last time someone yelled at you?

When a day goes by that some crazed hatemonger doesn’t show up in my yard yelling and screaming at me and threatening to kill me, I’ll let you know.

8. When was the last time you spoke with someone that you met online?

Every few weeks actually. Outside of my relatives and local church members, EVERYONE I talk to is someone I meet online. All of the writer’s at my writing group, I meet online, we formed the group online than meet in person, same goes for my coven, it started online and we meet in person from time to time. I’m constantly in the store or the library and someone will come up to me and say: “Hey,, I know you…you’re EelKat, I talk to you online, I’m _____” Happens all the time.

9. Where did you go on your honeymoon? OR Where would you like to go on your honeymoon?

Didn’t and probably wouldn’t. Honeymoons, weddings, bridal showers, ect, are NOT part of the Scottish Traveller/Gypsy tradition, it’s not something I could even imagine doing. Just a huge waste of money as far as I can see.

This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com  If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

What Is A Traveller? Are You a Gypsy?

What is a Traveller?

The short answer:
Scottish Gypsies are called Travellers. They are a separate race from “regular” Scottish. Travellers are the Natives of Scotland, descendants of the Picts, while “modern” Scots are descendants of the Celtic Invaders whom invaded Scotland in the 1400s.
The Celts drove the Picts from their homes, murdering the women and children of any family refusing to give up their land to the invaders. The Picts, fought back, but in the end were driven out of their native homeland and forced to wander the world in search of a new home. They decided that having their families alive and well was more important than having land of their own. Vowing to never again be forced out of their homes, while watching their women and children be slaughtered, they decided to never again settle down in any place long enough to allow invaders to rob them of their loved ones.
The Picts were known for their metal work and their psychic abilities. The men became traveling tinkers, tooling metal ware and peddling their wares from town to town, while their women helped out by telling fortunes and communicating with the Faeries. They lived in covered wagons, called vardos, towed by spotted horses.
The Picts became known as The Traveling Scottish Tinkers. Over the centuries they have also been known as: The Scottish Gypsies, Witches, Witch Doctors, Hoodoo Conjurors, Peddlers, Tinkers, and as they are most commonly known today: The Travellers.

The long answer:



A few days ago I was asked a question about belly dancing in connection to gypsies, and asked also who are the gypsies, and what about you as a Traveller, are Travellers gypsies? I’m bringing my answer to that question here, and here it is:
I would like to start out by saying I am one of the princesses of The Royal Highland Atwater Clan, I can trace every member of my family from multiple branches all the way back to the 1400′s. Our history starts in Scotland, and as the name of our clan implies, back prior to the 1400′s we were royalty, from the line TRUE natives of Scotland, The Picts. Unlike what most people think of stereotypical Scottish appearances, (fair skin, red hair, etc) we are much darker, resembling Native American Indians, and also Native Scottish did not wear tartans or kilts as became popular with the invaders now thought of as the Scottish today. The castle which our family lived in is still there and is today known by tourists as “The Atwater Castle”. The history of the castle and our family, is that when the early Christians (St Patrick, etc) and the Celts invaded the area and drove out the “heathen pagans” who refused to convert to Christianity, the Atwater Clan held out and became warriors of the Highlands, rather than be forced out of the country with the rest of our people. At some point around the 1400′s, however, the castle was taken by the invaders, and the Atwater Clan because the last of the Native Highlanders to be driven out of their native lands.
The Atwater Clan, refused to settle down, and thought only of retaking the castle and returning home, and became travelers across Scotland as a result. Over the generations however, plans of retaking the castle, turned to “fantasy tales” told to grandchildren, tales of “the old ways” and “how it used to be” and “why” we travel with no home of our own, but gone are the plans, hopes, and dreams, of ever “returning home”. While much of what I know of my family’s history comes from word of mouth and is open to speculation, but the dates and brief notes in the ancient Medieval family Bible which has been passed down for centuries, can confirm that there is at least some truth by which the stories were based, and after much research, I did find that The Atwater Castle does indeed exist and local stories around it do match the stories my grandparents told me. I do not know my family’s history prior to the dates in the ancient Bible.
Our more recent history is easier to verify, with the help of diaries and photographs and government documents. In the late 1700′s, the Atwater’s joined up with great-great-grandson of Sir Francis Drake, when Capt John Drake married one of the Atwater girls. Our family has a tradition of, if you marry into the family from the outside, you join the clan. Capt Drake left Scotland, sailed across the Atlantic and took with him the entire Atwater Clan. The family went from land dwelling travelers to sea dwelling cut-throat “pirates”. They settled down in what is now Nova Scotia, and Capt Drake and his Atwater Clan crew, became blueberry smugglers, invading blueberry farms and using ship sails to carry the loads of fruit. This resulted in his fleet of ships having purple-blue sails. Capt Drake meet a terrible end when he fell through the deck of his ship, got an infection and lost his leg to gangrene, than died a few months later from the same infection. His wooden leg, several sea chests, and some of the blue sails have been passed down through our family every since and today are owned by one of my uncles.
The death of Capt John Drake, brought an end to our family’s brief life of piracy, and life on the ocean, and it also left a rather large group of Scottish Travelers stranded in Canada with no way back to Scotland. Their life with Drake however had brought a change to morals and most of them became criminals: murderers, thieves, prostitutes, drunks, and over all spent most of the 1800′s doing everything in their power to give Travelers everywhere a bad name.
In the 1920′s my grandfather joined the Kennedy family’s “rum running” business and was their gun toting driver bringing whiskey into Maine, from Canada. His job was to bring the whiskey to Old Orchard Beach, Maine, and fill the carousal horses (their tails unscrew and they are hollow – next time you visit Old Orchard, look for these horses, they are still there.)
Old Orchard Beach, Maine was a crime district back than and most of the town was run by the Ricker family, another group of Scottish Travelers, whom had settled down in the 1820′s and founded the Town of Old Orchard Beach.
After the Kennedy rum running business was broken up, my grandfather married a Native American girl and than moved the Atwater Clan from Canada to Old Orchard Beach, Maine, where the Atwaters and the Rickers joined forces, with members of each clan marrying members of the other clan, creating one big huge giant clan.
By the 1960′s there were over 200 Atwaters (my grandfather had 12 children, each of them had no less than 8 children PER wife, and some had several wives) and the entire town had become over run with campers, trailers, tents, shanties, etc. The Rickers (who lived in houses and shunned the nomadic lifestyle, and tried very hard to be good upstanding citizens with regular jobs) and the Atwaters (houseless squatters, living in cars and campers without permission on other people’s front lawns and who were still mostly criminals, and made a living out of breaking and entering and than selling stolen goods at flea markets) had started feuding. And when I say feuding, I mean gun fights and shoot outs, knife stabbings and sword fights. Very violent, very bloody, and required a lot of police and FBI to break up.
Ask the old people (senior citizens) of Old Orchard Beach today, and they will tell you horrendous stories of: “The Day the Gypsies Were Driven Out of Old Orchard”. They’ll tell you of the long parade of cars and vans and jeeps and trailers and campers, that stretched on for 10 or 12 miles, as they drove out of town and headed West for Utah, with police escorts. They will talk for hours of the violent crazy gypsies that tore up the town and almost destroyed Old Orchard Beach. I was a small child when this event occurred, but it instilled in me a life long fear of guns, as it had become a daily thing for me and my cousins to be dodging bullets and hide behind cars praying our parents and their parents wouldn’t murder each other.
Today the Atwaters have turned on each other, several have gone to prison, one created a UFO cult called Heaven’s Gate and than killed off his entire group with Kool-Aid, in the past 10 years there have been 5 different mass murder-suicides done by the Atwaters, one just last April. Several have now been diagnosed with severe metal illnesses, and genetic problems, both attributed to nearly 400 years of inbreeding between siblings.
There are many groups of Travellers and Gypsies who attribute the Royal Highland Atwater Clan with having single handedly created the stereotype that Gypsies are crazy criminals, and most Travellers and Gypsies will tell you that looking at one family and judging the entire race based on them alone is wrong, but the fact is, that is what has happened.
Those of us, in the younger generation of the Atwater Clan, look back on our parents and grandparents with shame, not because they were Travellers, not because they were Gypsies, but because they were arrogant people who acted like animals and did horrible things because they thought they could get away with it. For every criminal act they did, they always justified it by saying: “We are Atwaters. We are royalty. You should be glad I decided to let you live.” They arrogance was their downfall.
For the most part Gypsies are just your average ordinary, hard working family, they just live in a house on wheels. The crime family stereotype is not the norm and only became a stereotype because what few crime families there are got themselves in enough trouble to get all over the media. The Gypsies that stay out of trouble don’t get on TV, so are out of sight and out of mind, thus resulting in the only time people see any info about Gypsies it’s on the news when one does some crime, in the end resulting in people thinking, every time they see a gypsy it’s a bad news report therefor all gypsies must be bad. It’s sad but true. And it’s not just the gypsies – I know a guy who was in WWII and every time he sees an Asian person he starts ranting on about “these evil Japs” and the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I know another guy who lived in the “inner city” growing up, and now today he says “all blacks a no good gangsters”.
Now you ask:
[QUOTE=Jane;182058]I keep reading references to “Gypsy dances” in connection with belly dance. What exactly are “Gypsies”? I thought they were a specific ethnic group. Besides the Roma influence on Turkish Oryantal, what do Gypsies have to do with the development of belly dance? I know they came in several migratory waves from India; that I have figured out. I’m becoming lost and confused as to who Gypsies actually are when people reference them. Why are they being credited with creating belly dance and why are Ghawazee and other marginalized ethnic groups being put under the Gypsy umbrella if they are not genetically related? I never thought of belly dance as a Gypsy dance: always a Middle Eastern social dance adapted for the stage. :think:[/QUOTE]
I can tell you this:
I am a gypsy. I was born a gypsy. I lived in a car with my family and our cats and our dogs, until I was 9 years old, when my parents left the Clan and settled down to live on a farm in Maine. We did not take to no-mobile life well and spent much of the year on road trips, for the next 30 years. Throughout that time we have had to deal with a steady stream of hate crimes and violence at the hands of several of Old Orchard Beach’s locals, who remember the crimes of the Atwater Clan and though my father is a Ricker, his wife, my mother is an Atwater, disowned by the rest of the Clan, but still has Atwater blood and that’s enough to cause great hatred from people who remember “The Gypsies of Old Orchard”.
As an adult, I too had a house, once. It was burned down by anti-gypsy bigots in 2006 and I spent the next 3 years living on my land under a tarp, than in a Volvo, and now in a motorhome as I can not afford to re-build my house.
We are from Scotland. There is no Middle Eastern connection. We are a different culture than the Romani. Gypsy is the term used for ALL traveling cultures, NOT JUST the Romani, that is why they are more correctly called The Romani Gypsies or just The Roms. There are Irish Gypsies and Turkish Gypsies and Ethiopian Gypsies and Native American Gypsies and Mexican Gypsies and Mongolian Gypsies…. you get the idea now right?
A Gypsy is any person with a mobile home, be it a tent, car, trailer, vardo, wagon, RV, motorhome, sailboat, houseboat, or plane. If your house can move from one location to the next, than you are a gypsy. If you live in a trailer park, you are a gypsy. If you live in a campground, you are a gypsy. If you live in a Winnebago, you are a gypsy. You can deny it, but like it or not, if you do not live in a standard non-mobile building, you are a gypsy, because that is what the word gypsy means. The word “gypsy” when used CORRECTLY is the name of a TYPE OF LIFESTYLE. However the word is very rarely ever used correctly.
Most people when they say “Gypsy” they mean “Romani Gypsy”, but using “gypsy” in this manner, as the name of a race, is considered a racial slur and the same as calling an African American a Nigar or a Latter Day Saint a Mormon or a Native American and Indian. Gypsy, Nigar, Mormon, Indian – these are all racial slurs used by people on the outside of the group in question. Just as no Latter Day Saint would ever refer to themselves as a Mormon, so too would no Rom ever refer to themselves as a Gypsy. Mormonism is a theology held and practiced by 64 different religions, the original of which being The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and members within these religions call themselves Later Day Saints and say they practice Mormonism, and while a few may call themselves Mormons, most do not and are deeply offended by the term. Likewise the Gypsy Lifestyle is held and practiced by over 300 different ethnic groups, and each group calls themselves by their race (Scottish, Navaho, Irish, Mongolian, Romani, etc), and while a few may refer to themselves as Gypsies, most do not and are deeply offended by the term.
Scottish Gypsies are called Travellers. They are a separate race from “regular” Scottish. Travellers are the Natives of Scotland, descendants of the Picts, while “modern” Scots are descendants of the Celtic Invaders whom invaded Scotland in the 1400s.
The Celts drove the Picts from their homes, murdering the women and children of any family refusing to give up their land to the invaders. The Picts, fought back, but in the end were driven out of their native homeland and forced to wander the world in search of a new home. They decided that having their families alive and well was more important than having land of their own. Vowing to never again be forced out of their homes, while watching their women and children be slaughtered, they decided to never again settle down in any place long enough to allow invaders to rob them of their loved ones.
The Picts were known for their metal work and their psychic abilities. The men became traveling tinkers, tooling metal ware and peddling their wares from town to town, while their women helped out by telling fortunes and communicating with the Faeries. They lived in covered wagons, called vardos, towed by spotted houses.
The Picts became known as The Traveling Scottish Tinkers. Over the centuries they have also been known as: The Scottish Gypsies, Witches, Witch Doctors, Hoodoo Conjurors, Peddlers, Tinkers, and as they are most commonly known today: The Travellers.
And your question:
[QUOTE=Jane;182058]what do Gypsies have to do with the development of belly dance?[/QUOTE]
The answer is: not a thing.
From what I (speaking as an insider) have personally seen of dancing in gypsy culture, gypsy dance has more in common with Voodoo dancing: big colorful skirts, scarfs on heads, swirling around, leaping, clapping, joining hands, holding long skirts up at the hips to expose the knees, with a big group of people laughing and whopping as they prance around a bon-fire. It’s NOT belly dancing. Not even close!
From what I’ve seen of modern “gypsy belly dance”, it appears that they take “gypsy” outfits and use them while belly dancing, and call it gypsy belly dance based on the costume not based of the style of dance, just like what is done with Gothic belly dance: dress in goth while belly dancing = gothic belly dance; dress like a gypsy while belly dancing = gypsy belly dancing.
You noticed as I was telling you the history of my family, I made no mention of belly dancing? Yeah, there’s a reason for that, and it’s because THERE IS NO HISTORY of belly dancing. No one in the long and colorful history of my family has ever been a belly dancer – I’m the first one, and when I took it up, I never once thought of it as being a “gypsy” dance. The first time I found out about belly dancing, I was about 8 years old, and I did not know what it was called, so for several years I called belly dancers “Egyptian Snake Charmers”. I have no idea how I came up with the term “Egyptian Snake Charmers” or why I used it, but as a child there was a long time when I would tell people: “When I grow up I’m going to be an Egyptian Snake Charmer”. What I meant when I was saying that, was I wanted to be a professional belly dancer.
But there you have it: I, as a gypsy, born in a gypsy culture, raised in a tradition-heavy multi-generational gypsy family (with 200+ members all living together), grew up associating belly dancing with Egypt and cobras. And I myself a gypsy, never associated belly dancing with my own culture, nor did I associate myself with Egyptians (as one popular myth does, when it says Gypsies are of Egyptian decent).
I am speaking as one who is a “Gypsy” and there is absolutely no history of belly dance in my culture, but I think I can help you find a reason why belly dancing is often associated with gypsies. Traveling around a lot, my ancestors did pick up things from each place they went. For example we are Scottish and not Japanese in any way, and yet wearing kimono became a tradition at some point after a brief visit by some of my ancestors, to Japan. Hula dancing, grass skirts, and wearing muu-muus, became a tradition in my family after my grandmother spent several years living in Hawaii. Can you see where this is going?
Psychic abilities, witchcraft, curses, contacting spirits, reading cards, yes. That sort of thing is HUGE in my personal family’s history. Both my grandmothers were witches, as were their grandmothers, but this in not the norm for ALL Gypsies, because witchcraft was only passed down in certain “select family lines” and most families had no connection to the psychic arts at all. I think it is the same with dancing.
You see traditions and passing things from grandparent to grandchild is a BIG part of the Gypsy lifestyle. Think about it: “regular” folks pass on material things: the house, grannies best chine, etc. But when you live in a car, what do you have to pass to your children? Nothing, at east not any material thing. You pass along your traditions instead. If you weave cloth than you pass on a cloth weaving tradition, and end up with generations of cloth weavers in a single line. It’s the same if you tool leather, make tin pots, shoe horses, read cards, and of course if you dance, than dancing is the tradition you pass on to your children. Do you see what I’m getting at?
While my own family has no connection with belly dancing, I have known other gypsy families who had several generations of belly dancing in their family line, and the dance was a tradition passed from grandmother to granddaughter.
So I am guessing, based on what I know of how my own family picks up things from other cultures, and how most gypsy families are heavy on the passing down traditions, tradition, I am guessing that at some point, some where in time, a gypsy family picked up belly dancing from one of the places they visited and passed it on to their children, and being professional traveling dancers they meet enough people to give the impression that belly dancing was a traditional gypsy dance, when in fact it was just something they picked up on their travels. It seems to be the most likely reason for the connection between gypsies and belly dancing.
The problem with romanticizing gypsy culture via the whole belly dancers and fortune tellers gig, is that it shows the world that gypsy live a life of endless fun and games, when in fact, most gypsies are short live, malnourished, half-starved, and often too sick or too tired to even think about dancing.
FACT: Gypsies are homeless. Many try to move into normal homes only to have “regular” folks burn them out and force them to be homeless all over again. Bigotry, war, and hatred made them homeless. Bigotry, vandalism, irrational fears, discrimination, and hatred keeps them homeless.
FACT: Gypsies are often uneducated. Discrimination against gypsies is high. Gypsy children rarely attend school and those that doe are often beaten and bullied until they are so terrified of school they don’t dare go back. Yes, I’m talking about the United States of America. I was not allowed to go to school. I was 35 years old before I was allowed to get my GED.
FACT: Gypsies are often jobless. Many can not get jobs because they do not have a high school diploma and can not get a GED. Many are forced to do odd jobs such as mowing lawns, because “regular” people REFUSE to hire gypsies.
FACT: Gypsies can not get medical/health insurance.  Having a permanent address is required. Live in a car = no health insurance. Live in a car = no job. No job = no money. No money = no way to get medical care. No medical care = high rate of deaths in children and young adults and a race nearly devoid of senior citizens.
FACT: Most gypsies are hungry, many gypsy children starve to death before they reach 10 years old. Few gypsies live more than 30 years. Live in a car = no job. No job = no money. No money = no way to get food.
FACT: It is not a myth that the crime rate is higher among gypsies than other people. Not allowed the rights of other citizens = no schools, no house, no jobs, no medical care, no food = desperate measures need to be taken to keep your family alive = theft crimes in order to ensure your children get at least one meal PER WEEK (no, not per day – one meal PER WEEK is NOT uncommon in gypsy families.) As a child the longest I had ever gone without food was 12 days.
It is wrong, WRONG, WRONG to portray gypsies as happy go luck people with no cares in the world and days full of dancing, just as much as it is wrong to portray them as cut-throat thugs. They are people, just like you, with families, trying to get by, and working hard to get keep their families alive.
You want to know more about the gypsies? You don’t have to travel to some far away land… just walk down to your local homeless shelter, or head to the nearest train station and look for the rows of houses built out of cardboard boxes. Those are gypsies. Take a good look at them, their clothes dirty rags, their bodies sticking from not bathing in months, their babies half dead from starvation- that’s the REAL gypsy lifestyle. No dancing. There’s no time for dancing when you are praying you 30 pound 10 year old lives long enough for you to find a job, and praying the tomorrow some one ANY ONE will hire you so you can at least buy a last meal for the child. That is the reality of gypsy life.
All that said…I’ve no problem with people using the term “gypsy belly dance”. It’s not being used as a derogatory slur, and while possibly stemming from misinformation, I consider it more “fantasy play” than “historical dance” so it doesn’t bother me.
This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com  If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat