I make it a point to keep negative energy out of my house as much as possible.  I must admit, sometimes, I even bring in a bit myself in spite of my best intentions.  You just have to swear like a sailor when you spill a big bowl of caramel sauce on the kitchen floor.  Then, a cute little dog hurries in to help with cleanup and it’s all good.

But I am very serious about not allowing people with a tragically negative spirit in here.  Last time I made this mistake, when he left, I opened all the doors and windows and went through every room with a smoking sage bundle.  This is the old Indian ritual of cleansing.  I don’t think it works on a spiritual level, but it certainly works on a symbolic one.

My girls and I gathered sage once along the north bank of the Columbia up near “She Who Watches.”

Those bundles have been used up, but I’m thinking of a taking field trip.  Should be lots of sage in West Texas in May after the recent rain.  Good to keep some on hand, I think.  You never know who might show up here, either actually or electronically. Sometimes, I feel so powerful when I drag a missive unopened to the trash.  Other times,  you have to smoke it out.

Good advice (and bad) can be taken out of context and used to make almost any point.  Still, I do like this:

Finally, my dear family, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

 And talk about them too — or don’t come around here.  I have enough trouble just keeping the kitchen mopped up.