About

So, just an FYI, I really hate writing these things.

 

My name is Teresa Cavanaugh and I live in Prince George, British Columbia. I have lived here my whole life, and most of my family is here. I share a house with my partner, Andrew, a cat and a bunch of ferrets. I work part time as a florist in a local grocery store, and am the Assistant Director of Street Spirits Theatre Company. I also run my own small Internet hosting company, primarily dealing with non-profits.

Due to poor genetics (thanks Mom) I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. This means I am very bendy and my joints are easily injured due to dislocation and sublaxation among other things. Add in the fact that I can’t take opioid painkillers and life gets interesting. I also deal with HPV related VIN, which is an early form of cancer of the vulva.

People sometimes ask why my website is called moonlit sheep. It is a reference to a poem by A.E Houseman. Keeping sheep by moonlight’ is Shropshire slang for a felon hanging in chains. Due to the Ehlers-Danlos syndrome I sometimes feel like my own body has wrapped me in chains, and I like sheep.

On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank
by A.E. Housman

On moonlit heath and lonesome bank
The sheep beside me graze;
And yon the gallows used to clank
Fast by the four cross ways.

A careless shepherd once would keep
The flocks by moonlight there,
And high amongst the glimmering sheep
The dead man stood on air.

They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.

There sleeps in Shrewsbury jail to-night,
Or wakes, as may betide,
A better lad, if things went right,
Than most that sleep outside.

And naked to the hangman’s noose
The morning clocks will ring
A neck God made for other use
Than strangling in a string.

And sharp the link of life will snap,
And dead on air will stand
Heels that held up as straight a chap
As treads upon the land.

So here I’ll watch the night and wait
To see the morning shine,
When he will hear the stroke of eight
And not the stroke of nine;

And wish my friend as sound a sleep
As lads’ I did not know,
That shepherded the moonlit sheep
A hundred years ago.

I am a mother, grandmother, and a Wiccan High Priestess. Anything else you want to know, either ask or read my blog.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

and a lone shepherdess..