We just celebrated my mother's ninetieth (90) birthday at her favorite tea room and concluded the luncheon by exchanging tea leaf readings, which we learned from mom.
Being a Scottish family a good hot cuppa of black loose-leafed tea blended perfectly with milk and sugar was our breakfast brew. Cup emptied sometimes my mother would read our tea leaves -only for fun she'd remind us, being a good and faithful Catholic.
Her love for spooky and "unusuall" sparked an interest in her children, an interest that continued to grow as we did. Like some of my siblings (the rest are in denial I think) I read the tarot cards, aura's, tea leaves, (of course) and see spirits.
Although she'd never admit to having special psychic abilities, Mom has seen spirits too, and has had prophetic dreams.
As far back as I can remember Mom has loved the mysterious and supernatural. When we were kids we'd sit with mouth's hanging open at the breakfast table as she recounted in great dramatic detail the previous night's television program "One Step Beyond (too late for us kids). Afterward we'd have to scamper down the steep San Francisco hills to a day with the nuns, head full of spooky images.
Friday nights we'd get to stay up late and with her would watch The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents.
She's not crazy about me being a witch though. Mom is mostly dismayed about some of her daughters being witches and pagans, wishing we'd have remained faithful to Catholicism as she has. But on an odd day Mom says, Maybe I'm the head witch, eh? Giving her sweet smile.
Living through the bombings during World War ll, immigrating to Canada (with five kids), back to Glasgow Scotland (with one more) and then to the US (w/seventh in the picture above, to meet my father); living through the 1960's in SF with teens, and all the other things that come with eight kids and a strong-willed husband, I think my mother is a most wonderful woman. Blessed be.
THE SKYE IN JUNE, my novel, is about a Scottish immigrant family living in San Francisco with one child that has unusual abilities. In the book there is a chapter about the mother reading tea leaves and this part of my fictional story I took from what my mother had told us about how she started reading tea leaves–– "When June (that's me) was born I read tea leaves for one of the other mother's in the ward. I don't know why. I never had done it before."
What about your mother? How has she influenced your abilities and talents?
Please see a sample of my chapter to the left "Wicked Behavior in Holy Savior." The book continues to receive an overwhelming five star reviews at my website, Amazon and Goodreads.
