[Soft*Silver]

Originally Posted by AtLastHome

It is very much a term of respect and high regard for elders outside of Wiccan ideology as well. Take a look at Native American thought for one. Oh, and Iconsider myself to be a butch crone.

in my family, which has always been matriarchal here and in the old country, use the term Buba for crone women. Not Bubba which often means an overly done male with low wit and intelligence. Buba is the highest honor. Old Wise Woman. In the past, they wore hairnets and thick dark stockings that they rubber banded beneath their knees. Their laps spread and their breasts fell as they sat down. Their hands were worn and knobby from years of work. They wore the Buba uniform..the bubushka..and it came in many colors and brilliant designs. They were brought to family functions and placed in a comforting place for them and one by one, younger members would go to say their regards. A kiss for the bride at her wedding reception was a HUGE event. This woman canned enough from her garden to feed the neighborhood. And when she made her breads, people showed up that hadnt visited for months. She swatted with wooden spoons..or her hand if you were bad and close enough. Shame was not given out lightly. But if given out, lord help you, you deserved it and the family stood behind her. She often had whiskers on her top lip and if you didnt like it and mentioned it, you might lose your psyche balls from the star she would do in response to your lack of charm. Babies were placed in her arms to kiss...a blessing like no other. She ate unfamiliar strange things..like cow tongue and brains. You couldnt convince her to pay $20 for a meal for one person. She kept her money tied and pinned inside her "brassiere"...at least the money you knew about. She had stashes of it and if you really needed it AND you deserved it, she would skirt away and come back with the exact amount you needed. She never wanted paid back. If she gave, she gave without strings. If she judged you, and she was the one in the family who could, she was always right...

there arent too many Bubas left. I step into that role...as does my sister ..but we are both intimidated by the sacredness of that role. We dont feel like we are deserving of it. Somehow, between now and later, we will transform into Her. Its not like we get voted in, or can go out and buy the right clothes to make ourselves one. It just happens if we are deserving of it.