“Tree Whispering: Harmonize With Global Transformations by Being With Trees.” For $300, students get to stand around in a circle basically fondling trees. Outside. In public.

As the copy explains, when touching trees, you not only feel bark (so true!), but also a “bio-energy of information and wonder.”  You “learn permission-based Green Centrics (TM) holistic energy healing methods from integrative medicine, ancient wisdom and faerie folklore.”

Aah, faerie folklore, the progenitor of all kooky wellness workshops. I like how they throw in the “permission-based” Green Centrics, lest you think these tree huggers are taking trees against their will: “Mr. Tree, can I touch you in your no-no zone?”

I’m reminded of something Jeannette Walls, author of The Glass Castle, said at a lecture here in town on Friday. (For those of you who haven’t read it, The Glass Castle is a memoir about growing up in total poverty.) She was sharing her reaction when, many years ago, a wealthy friend explained to her the concept behind Outward Bounds, that organization in which people pay thousands of dollars for a week of roughing it, for a week of hardship, in the great outdoors.  Jeannette laughed at the idea that anyone would pay money for such an experience when she herself had lived it; there was nothing glamorous or fun about foraging for food outside or sleeping in a shack with no heat or running water.

Tree Whispering seems a bit like Outward Bounds, in that both tap into people’s innate desire to commune with nature, but have forgotten how. So they break out the checkbook for the privilege of “tree whispering.” I’m behind on my faerie folklore, but it seems that if you want to become one with trees, take a walk in the park. Or plant a few saplings in the backyard.   Because I’m pretty sure trees won’t, in fact, whisper back, no matter how much a weekend of whispering costs.

What’s awesome about the Pyramid Collection is that it caters to gals who believe they were born in the wrong time, the wrong world, in the wrong meridian—or me after hitting The Dollar General on a Saturday.

PC caters to Wiccans, goths, steampunks, faeries, vampyrresses and sensuous tavern wenches.  Its pages are a mystical storybook of magick, fantasy and sensuality where prices rarely top $140. It’s for dreamweavers on a budget, in other words.

I’ve selected a few of my favorite winter picks:

A sumptuous Sorcerer’s Cloak ($120) for metaphysicians who command attention and respect. Not to toot my jouster’s bugle, but that’s pretty much me in a nutshell. I’d like to wear this cloak with the hood on then wait for Jake to come down to the Hen Hut to lock up the chickens for the night;  I’d emerge from the darkness with a raven perched on my shoulder….only it would be a chicken.

And these business casual witches heels ($49.95) would adorn my feet.

I wonder if I could get Jake to wear these creepy clicky vampire slippers for men ($59.95). Then again, they look like they’re from Payless’s Halloween collection; they look so cheap and plastic, only the dead could probably comfortably wear them.

Would Hot Topic sell these foot coffins? I don’t think so.

Don’t laugh, but I actually kind of like the Innkeeper’s Daughter’s dress ($140). It looks relatively well-made, and it features a cross-laced cincher!!!! For showing off my lusty bodice.

I’m all about affirmational plaques with which to adorn my castle, and this one caught my eye:

Isn’t that the truth?

I’ll tell you a moment that took my breath away: When I stumbled upon a spread buried in the middle of the catalog devoted to sexual aids and two erotic DVDs called Totally Nude Aerobics and Totally Nude Yoga & Tai Chi.

What the….?

I didn’t think goddess wiccans watched earthly porn. I thought they writhed naked around a campfire in the moonlight.  WHO is this catalog for again? Men or women? Or in the metaphysical ether of The Pyramid Collection, is it assumed mystics and faeries swing both ways?

Jake and I came across this little gem in the Kotula (”The Guys With the Goods”) catalog last night. It will make a dandy gift for the heavy drinker in your life.

It’s called the GIANT WINE GLASS ($12.99) and it holds an entire bottle wine — “Just the thing for a cozy night in,” reads the copy.

You know those nights when you’re at a friend’s house and everyone is slowly, politely sipping their wine but you can’t help but guzzle yours because you think you might have a little problem? No?  I don’t know anything about that either. But you’re too embarrassed to say “More please” because you know everyone already thinks you’re a drunk?  The Giant Wine Glass removes this painful social stigma. The Giant Wine Glass allows you to slump in your Lay-Z-Boy and drink an entire bottle of your favorite Fetzer without having to get up once. No one can say, “There goes ‘Jezzie,’ helping herself to another glass of my $7.99 wine.” No one will notice how drunk you are.   No one will notice you, period.  Not if you stay very, very quiet and sip your “grape drank” like the refined and sophisticated lady you are.  Shhh. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me. Happy Holidays.