The Dreams of a Sleeping Dragon

Posted in Just thinking with tags , , on July 9, 2018 by shebatt
fire-serpent-rune-bind in red

I am feeling very sentimental today. Nostalgia is bleeding through from a dream I had last night. (In the dream) I was traveling and staying in a strange underground bunker of some kind. It was very cool with high ceilings, and well decorated. In retrospect now that I am thinking about it, it kind of reminds me of V’s underground lair in the film V for vendetta. It had that kind of feel to it. There was an alcove with a high arched ceiling and bed in the alcove and that is where I was sleeping. I remember waking up and looking up. Someone had done a cut-out collage art piece to look like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the arch above me. The images were 

all black and white like they had used news paper clippings to make it. The details were beautiful and surreal all at the same time.

The part of my dream which is leaving me feel so maudlin today is at some point in my dream an old friend of mine (a guy who was once my everyday friend who hung with me as much as our free time would let us) was there. He came to me in my dream and curled up with me while I was laying down and just hugged me. He held me like he was protecting me from, well from what I don’t know. (But) It was wonderful. I have not felt that safe in years.
Don’t get me wrong it is not that I don’t feel safe in my life or in myself, because I do. I am a strong woman who has gone through hell in one way or another and I have survived. I am not a white knight who slays dragons nor am I a princess. I am the dragon, strong, fierce, and beautiful. But inside this dragon is just the heart of a girl. One who gets lost and frighten sometimes. One who would give anything to have a knight in her life to come and hold her and make her feel like everything is going to be okay. Because sometimes even the strongest of dragons need to be protected while they sleep and believe me fighting as we dragons do, it gets tiring.
The most ironic part of all of this is that the person who came to me in my dream has never once realized how soft I am or never once seen me as the damsel. If he only truly knew. At least I don’t think he has. He has even told me in the past how he views me. He once called me Freya.
It has always honored me and exhausted me, living up to his view of me. It is not that I have lied to him or just shown him that side of me to hide the truth. It is because I have always strove to be that person. Not a lie, or a mask but a goal. He makes me want to be my very best.
This person, this friend now lives about 400 miles south of me and we rarely get to see each other, we rarely get to speak to each other. When do we do though it is like no time has passed between us, you know the type of friend I am talking about. We pick up right where we left off. He is one of the few friends in my life I will always love with the deepest truest love I can give.
Dreaming of him last night has made me miss him profoundly and making me wish I could see him again. In the mean time this dragon keeps going, living life and dreaming dreams.

fehu in blue


This is a test

Posted in Uncategorized on May 18, 2018 by shebatt

Hi all reading this I am testing to see if my blog is now linked to my facebook page.


Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on March 20, 2018 by shebatt

Today I am reminded to be grateful for all the wonderful things I have.

I am grateful I am not living in a war torn area where I don’t know if my family is still alive or not. I don’t have to worry about the water I drink killing me, and I have food on my table enough to share. I have more than one pair of pants and shirt to put on my body and even a warm coat and warm shoes to keep my feet dry.

I don’t have a great home with a big yard for a dog but I have a safe place to sleep at night and a roof over my head that does not leak. It has heat and running water and a working toilet.

I don’t have a career that pays me over 100K a year but I do have a good job that allows me to save enough to travel once a year. I do have to give up things like cable tv and internet at home but why waist money to waist time? Oh and I really like my job and my boss and I get along really well.

I don’t have the love of my life which is a empty space I am aware of more than I should be. But I have people who care about me, family who loves me for being me, and friends who I hope I have made a difference in their lives by being here.

I have both my eyes even through they are getting old and my glasses are a hassle. But I can still take photos and can paint now and again. I have both my ears to hear all the wonderful music out there to inspire my soul.

But the thing I am even more grateful for is my heart, mind and compassion to see all of this.

Me Too

Posted in Batt Rantts on November 17, 2017 by shebatt


As all of you may know there was an awareness campaign going on asking women to write Me Too on your wall to state if you have been sexually harassed or assaulted.
I think the importance of this is/was over due and understated. I also like the post I read about how we talk about this girl was assaulted or that girl was harassed. What we don’t talk about often enough is how that boy did this or that man did that. Accountability people.

This post is not about that. This post is sharing how I once (one of hundreds) dealt with harassment while trying to keep my job.

I was waiting tables at a corporate owned chain years ago. Our location had a high volume of costumers who were very stingy and very picky. This made our location a great place for training new managers for other locations.
There was a few months where we had two new manager trainees and a man a third trainee who had just purchased one of the restaurants as a franchise and was being trained at our restaurant in the corporate procedures. The three men were sitting at one of the tables right in the main part of the restaurant where they could see all the goings on while they were studying their hand books. One of the men who was training was kind of a pig and made all the waitresses feel uncomfortable when he was around. Non of us trusted him. This was the man I had the bad encounter with. He was sitting at the table with the other two one afternoon after the lunch rush. Things were starting to slow down and all of us were trying to wrap things up. I walked by the table at one point on my way to the kitchen to put and order in. As I walked pass this guy looked up at me and asked me how to spell breast. Shocked and a little taken back I quickly looked at the other two sitting at the table and said “B” pause… UTT HEAD and I walked away. Later the man who was training to run his own restaurant came up to me and told me if I ever wanted a job at his restaurant he would hire me in a minuet. He said I handled myself with such grace that he and the other manager in training were just shocked and impressed at my response. He also said that he and the other man at the table both knew what the third guy did was wrong but both of them were also so shocked they did not know how to react when I was asked. To this day I wonder if the guy who asked me last long in that corporation or if he was fired for sexual harassment.


Posted in Just thinking with tags , on August 25, 2017 by shebatt

I think I have stated on my blog (maybe it was my travel blog), I don’t really believe in ghost but I do believe there is something out there which I have not yet found the scientific explanation for.  With Halloween coming up I thought I would share a ghost story to get everyone ready.

I was raised in a house which had something going on in it which would lead most people to believe in ghosts, I try to remain skeptical about it. But this story is not about a child and her experiences in a haunted house. This story is about an adult who had a share happening with a friend who neither of them can account for today.

While I was in my 20s I had a friend I will call J, who rented the guest house on my sister in laws property. It was a large three bedroom house that sat on the hill side making it so each floor had its own exit that led not to stairs but to the hillside itself. J was not only my pal but good friends with my (ex)husband and his family so it was common for me to be at this house visiting or at my sister in law’s in the main house up the hill from this one.

Just to give you better idea about this house, it is located in Laurel Canyon, in the Hollywood Hills.  Laurel Canyon is known to be a strange place in its own right. My sister in law has told me many stories about how the canyon goes through cycles of months where it is very quite. After these months, out of no where there are multiple fatal accidents in a matter of days and the canyon itself feels different as if everything is at unrest.  Now with my story.

One evening I was over at the rental house hanging out with J.  We were sitting in the living room facing each other sitting on sofas that lined the opposite walls.  The room itself was a long narrow room with the front door at one end and a stairway that was built into the side of the hill at the opposite side of that long room.

The two of us were just chatting. I can’t even remember what it was we were talking about. Considering we both share a love of films, video and photography chances are that is what we were talking about. It was only about 9pm so neither of us were really all that tired.

That is about the time it happened. There was a thud on the front door as if someone had hit it sideways with their fist. Almost as if their hand had glanced off the door as they hit it. It was not loud enough for a real person to have hit it but it was distinctly a thud.

Seconds after the thud I felt pinned down to the sofa I was sitting on, as if something was keeping me from being swept away by the energy that was now sweeping across the room. This energy rushing through felt dark, strong and dangerous. At the time I did not know if it was the pressure of it that was holding me down or something else protecting me. I could feel it rush through the room like a wind had blown the door open and was not causing a gust. But the door remind shut and not a single dust particle was stirring. As a matter of fact for that moment nothing in that room seamed to move at all and time seamed to stand still.

As fast as the energy came in and blew through that room, it just as fast it went up the stairs and out the side door of the house that was attached to the 2nd floor bedroom. In my minds eye it looked like a black scribble of wool which flew by at a break neck speed and I could feel it leave the house as it flew out. What lingered behind was a feeling of golden warmth. Something to this day I can not explain either.

I sat there stunned for a moment and realized where I was and that I was not alone. I slowly looked up and made eye contact with J. I am not sure which of us said it first or if we said it at the same time but “Did you see that?” came out of one of our mouths and we both kind of freaked out at that moment. I think he was trying to be brave for me because he just sat there nonchalant for a few minutes until I finally asked if can we go outside. I needed to get out of that room for a moment. Not because the dark feeling lingered in the room but because I had to be someplace else just for a moment to snap me back into reality. We did not dwell on what had happened and started to talk about something else once we were out of there. I think we both just needed to process what happened.

This occurrence has stuck with us both for years. We have talked about it since and I believe we both took away something different from it. I still can’t say I believe in ghost, demons or the supernatural but I will say again there is something out there that science has yet to explain. That much I know for sure.


Information on Laurel Canyon:,_Los_Angeles


Posted in 1, Batt Rantts with tags , , on September 15, 2016 by shebatt

Grief has made me apathetic to my own existence.
With faults enthusiasm I get get up everyday and live my life,
not caring if I fool anyone with the smile I wear.
I know I am not fooling myself.
I am tired of loosing people, I am tired of all the loss my soul has suffered.
Years and time just chip away at me in the form of fatality.
Whether death or distance the people in my life just seam to slip away
and I find myself alone and wondering if I want to bother inviting in someone new.
Sometimes the wounds are just too deep and so the desire eludes me.
If I don’t have anyone there, then there is no one to lose.
The balance between lonely and alone teeters on a point
to fragile to depend on, to sharp to avoid.
I converse with my plants, make friends in my book,
eat dinner alone, and chat via a black and white device
which often misunderstands my voice sending cryptic messages into the either.
I look to the sea for diversity and healing, knowing there is only the tide to rely on
I just need to pull away and hide to mend.
Alone in my cave I desire the reassurance that life is not so bad.
Thinking time alone will heal me.
To tired to ask for help instead I just ride it out in this exile from life.
Besides who could I ask, that one person really does not exist in my world.
The person who can hug me and make me feel like it is worth it all.
The one who can make me believe that for now it will be alright.
I need a dark angel a mother, a lover, a friend, who strength matches mine in every way;
one who like me has walked to the gates of hell and come back again;
one who knows I will be strong again for them someday but
resist leaning on me as much as I hate leaning on them.
I think I need sleep…..

What’s in the Box?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on August 30, 2016 by shebatt

Last weekend I flew down to LA to attend my ex-husband’s memorial. We had been married and divorced over 20 years ago, but in the 20 years after the divorce we had not only learned to become friends again we became really good friends. The loss was really difficult considering it came one year (almost to the day) after the loss of one my best friends of 33 years.

The memorial was at his oldest brother’s home with family and a few friends there to share stories and the grief of losing someone as wonderful as him. When I arrived his longtime girlfriend (and a friend to me) showed me a Halloween prop that my ex and I had made years before, he wanted to give to me but just had never gotten it to me. The prop is a talking skull which does need a lot of work to get working again but it is clearly a skull.

In the course of the day I had talked to his oldest brother about my ex’s girlfriend and myself getting some of his ashes. We both felt such a strong connection to him we were hoping it would be okay with the family if we both had some of his ashes to treasure and hold onto in our lives. We spoke about it briefly and were distracted by others around us.

As my sister and I were saying our goodbyes, I pulled the skull out of the girlfriend’s car and set it on a garden wall in front of the house and started to pull myself together. While saying our last goodbyes and having final conversations with people I started talking to the wife of his oldest brother. I told her about the conversation her husband and I had about the ashes. She and I talked about it for a few minutes but nothing to detailed.

What I did not know was at that moment standing behind me was his other brother’s new wife (who is from Mexico and understands more English then she speaks but still not completely fluent) who was over hearing this conversation about the ashes. She happen to be standing right by where I set the box with the Halloween prop skull in it and asked my sister “What’s in the box?”

This was all told to me later in the car by my sister.

Without thinking my sister answered “The Head”. My sister said the look of horror and confusion on her face was undeniable added in with a sheepish “Ha?” So my sister added “The skeleton head” which only made this poor woman more shocked, horrified and again her voice cracked out a small dry “Ha?” Finally my sister realized what she was saying and tried to make it very clear to this poor woman “It is a Halloween prop they made back when they were married.” My sister said the poor woman found some relief in knowing it was not my ex-husband’s head in the box but still was reeling from the horror of the idea.

I am not sure how much longer after that conversation I saw her looking at the skull in the box but I kind of shooed her away from it knowing it is falling apart and breaking. I am kind of protective of it. I am not sure if she had a good look at it or not or realized it was really fake. I did not even know about the conversation she had with my sister until we were a few miles down the freeway where she told me and we both just laughed.