Ostara Blessings

Ostara Primroses

Ostara blessings to you all! 
I hope you all had a wonderful time celebrating with family and friends if that is your custom or are simply enjoying the return of longer days and the returning light if Ostara is not on your path.... 

We started celebrating early this week with a 'quiet' Saturday night of family bowling as the start (the only one she thought) of my wonderful Mum's 70th Birthday celebrations. Not that it was never going to be quiet with 10 of us laughing and shrieking our way through the multi lane breakdown and move to another lane, all 3 hours of it, topped off by a celebratory take away! It was at this point that we broke the news to her loveliness, that despite her no fuss/no party embargo on promise of actual and severe bodily harm, that we had sneakily arranged a lovely weekend away with all the family next weekend in the beautiful Ashdown Forest, just over an hours drive away. Strange, I got the blame for arranging it, me, really ? - despite my protestations of blame at my Dad and Brother! I guess one look at our faces and she knew the truth straight away! Just how do Mum's do that?Luckily she was delighted at the thought of it, even more so that we are taking the dogs too. She think's that there are 8 of us going, I 'forgot' to mention the 6 other beloved family members driving down from Yorkshire and Norfolk......  I may actually burst with excitement before then!

Despite all the shenanigans (I love that word)

Pre Sunrise Medway Valley.....

on Saturday I managed to haul myself out of bed at 4 on Sunday morning to pick my friend Shelley up to meet our friends from NWK Pagan Green Circle to watch the sunrise at the Coldrum Stones at nearby Trottiscliffe (pronounced Trosley). We arrived about 45 minutes before dawn and were lucky enough to be greeted by haunting owl hoots echoing through the darkness as we made our way to the stones and then the rustling and cackling of some lively nearby pheasants, hidden in the undergrowth next to where we were seated on the top of the mound. Now when I say we watched the sunrise, I mean it in the loosest British sense and I mean it got lighter, slowly! 

Rain Energy

We'd had a conversation earlier about an ancient presence that someone had felt before there, a presence who had been watching people holding ceremonies on the mound with wry amusement that they were on top of the mound as opposed to lower down at the entrance to the burial chamber, which stayed with me whilst I took time to ground myself again before our simple ceremony where we called in the 4 corners and elements of the circle and offered hot cross buns and mead to the Goddess and God of the land - as I've said before this particular group is an eclectic multi path group and we all respect each others beliefs and incorporate all in our very simple ceremonies. How the world could use that principle at the moment. 
I love this photo of the stones in the half light, it was spitting with rain as I took it, but has left an amazing image - odd where they start and end though! The distant lights of Maidstone on the horizon looked to me  like the

The Clootie Tree

curious peeping eyes of giants... it must have been the early start getting to me!
The clootie tree there always confuses me, part of me loves it and part of me worries about the environmental impact of the offerings left on it's boughs. Traditionally these were rags dipped in the sacred waters of springs and applied to the bodies of those seeking healing, later they were hung in trees to honour the spirits of the land and the ancestors, a practice continued after Christianity came at saint's wells as well as the practice of leaving offerings or votives, which in turn lent it's name to votive candles etc. 
Today however, the ribbons, wind chimes and tokens festooning the tree felt like part of the site, I was particularly taken with this hand made dream catcher that spun in the early morning light. As the final part of our simple ceremony we planted some sunflowers to take home mark the Spring Equinox and to reflect and the growth of personal ideas and projects. 

Ostara Altar

After a quick power nap and a stint as Mum's taxi, I headed off to Cheriton near Folkestone for the afternoon as I had been invited by the lovely Jenny to join her local group of like minded ladies for their Spring Equinox Ceremony and to spend some quality time connecting with Goddess as well as exploring and celebrating the Spring Equinox energies and blessings - how could I refuse an invitation like that? 
A warm welcome awaited me from friends yet to be made and after introductions we added our contributions to the altar - I had found some beautiful 'easter' butterflies, not very traditional I grant you, but the whole cocoon and change concept felt egg-like to me - new beginnings, transformations etc.  We called in our circle, all of us taking our place in the wheel of the year, mine being the Mother, The Grain Goddesses - of course as well calling in Goddess in all Her guises especially related to Ostara/Spring Equinox.
The name that I had been pulled to from

Roman Goddess Flora at Pompeii*

the list I was offered and chosen to research was Flora a minor Roman Goddess of flowers, youthfulness and fertility, depicted her on the walls at Pompeii. She was particularly connected with blossom and fruit bearing plants - appropriate offerings to her being fruit, honey and grain - of course! She was also called upon to protect the crops from the fungal infection known as rust which has cropped up before on my path, back in April and my post 'Connections'. Wry smile here, I might have known! 
A beautiful afternoon ensued, discussions about our precious maiden selves, lovingly looked back on with tenderness, humour and forgiveness,  as well as a few head shakes and plenty of ribald teenage energy! We followed this with intentions for the future and seeds sewn, all frankly discussed and nurtured in the womb room of our circle as it became

Ostara Eggs

apparent and known as for evermore! 
Personal goals and wishes moved forward from secret thoughts hidden away in the deepest part of our psyches to potential possibilities, all the way to 'why the hell nots?'!! We lovingly and playfully decorated eggs for the altar and also egg shells which we planted cress seeds in as well, now adorning my window sill altar at home! We finished the afternoon by being led in a wonderful meditation, before sharing a yummy feast together - what a perfect afternoon with some amazing women, proper legitimate Goddessing! 
Thank You Ladies - Just what I needed!!



Wishing You All A Wonderful Easter, however you are celebrating - I will be nestled in a beautiful farmhouse with my wonderful and beloved family celebrating Mum's 70th Birthday in style - chocolate and scrumptious food will be eaten, wine will be drunk, board games will be played, dogs will be walked whatever the weather and more precious memories will be made and stored in our forever files. 

Have A Blessed Week x x 

* Photo courtesy of Pinterest

Tame Adventures In Wild Places

Crocuses in Mum and Dad's Garden

Well Spring appears to have well and truly sprung here in Kent, but what a week..... my teenage maiden hardly got a look in as I was busy with work, zipping around Kent, I think she must have lent me some energy to get through some rather long days, without raising too many sardonic eyebrows or throwing huge temper tantrums! However by the end of the week she seemed to throw in the towel with a tired hissy fit as I began to go down with a nasty case of man flu. My adult head was telling me stay in bed and take it easy but the noisy headstrong hooligan inside me was hell bent on sending me out and about to explore and walk the land, albeit with my lovely Mum and Dad and their dog Scrumpy Jack, who by their own admission thoroughly enjoyed their third childhood as they called it when they became grandparents! 

Jew's Mallow Or
Corchorus Olitorius

Off we headed to nearby Herne Bay laughingly mocking our 'wild' explorer's spirit and sense of adventure, it's a long standing family joke that we 3 have all inherited the family stay at home genes... between us we rack up an incredibly tiny combined distance of 17 miles from our places of birth to current homes - Dad tipping the scales with a stonking 12 miles of his own in that mix - phew! It almost definitely wasn't our ancestors that explored the new world we joked, we'd have been the ones keeping the home fires burning and tilling the land or more likely pottering in the garden with flowers as you can see from the photos of their beautiful garden!
It was a mystery to us what made people push themselves to such extreme and unknown environments, just well, just because......not enough of an option for us. Not very Goddessy I mused, yet as my Mum pointed out we both found the courage and strength to venture forth on our own

Hellebore

spiritual journeys and paid no heed to people who thought that we were mistaken, foolish, doomed to fall off the edge of the world or be eaten by sea monsters...  Courage of convictions we encouraged and consoled ourselves, was measurable in more ways than just miles, fathoms or leagues! 
Right on cue, as we arrived at Herne Bay one of the first things we saw apart from the sea was a model of the air craft of Amy Johnson, the pioneering English Aviatrix who was the first woman to fly solo from Australia to Britain before crash landing and dying in the Thames estuary in 1941 just off the coast of Herne Bay. I did take some photos of it and one of the information board about it as I felt it was symbolic especially after we what we had been talking about in the car. It seemed particularly poignant in honouring the brave women who had made their stand for equality, but later I somehow managed to empty a bottle of water into my hand bag and all over the camera....new camera required, thank goodness for camera phones.....

Beach Combers Haul

After a stroll along the beach at Herne Bay and the 4 of us searching for hag stones - the dog burrowing like mad with me, we had to make do some shells, a fossil, quartz, pebbles and sea glass for my altar - not a bad haul! Whilst beach combing carefree with the dog at my heels, I saw the towers of the old church at Reculver on the headland a few miles along the coast and pointed them out... Luckily my parents were feeling indulgent and decided we'd go up there for our picnic and a wander round. 
Now obviously when I say picnic, I mean a cheese and pickle roll in the back of their car whilst fending off the dog, we didn't sit outside with a hamper and blanket - it was too cold, we'll wait until after Easter for that, we're English not crazy.

Old and New 

Bracing is a descriptive term that springs to mind, windswept is a romantic one, the truth was it was that cold up on the headland that frost bite was a distinct possibility, so it was a very brief exploration of the ruins  and a much longer one of the warmer visitors centre. What we discovered as we thawed out, was that the ruins were of a chapel known as St Mary the Virgin, built on the site of a 1st/2nd Century Roman fort as part of a mission to convert the Pagan locals of the British Isles to Christianity in about the  7th Century - as you can imagine this intrigued and amused me a great deal. 
Part of the Roman fort walls remain and some stones and tiles  have been recycled as part of the more 'modern' 12th century towers known locally as the Sisters. As you can imagine there are tales of ghosts, a weeping woman, a child crying as well as Roman centurions. It's a wild, windswept place  with the wind leaving little shelter anywhere and it is very

Atmospheric Ruins

atmospheric. I can imagine the wind howling round and it being scary after dark without too much trouble! I left with the feeling that there was an older history there that had disappeared into the annals of time, just as the land had fallen into the sea, including the Fort boundaries and part of the land and the graveyard there. There must have been good reasons to build on the windy headland, it has been suggested it was to keep out marauding Frankish and Saxon pirates - more brave or desperate people looking for new land or treasure, I wonder which beliefs and deities they brought with them.... I bet my lot were last off the boats, muttering darkly about being warmer back home and looking hopefully for signs of a Grain Goddess amongst the wind battered grasses. It may have taken them a while and an epic journey on a very long path not straying too far to start with, with many pit stops just to sit and look back on where they had come from before cautiously planning the next stage, but they got there in the end.....

 Have  A Blessed Week and Keep Exploring -Whatever Your Path x x 

Learning Curves

First Few Steps On  My Path...

Well the teenage Maiden is still lurking but at least I seem to have progressed from the one that is full of teenage angst about boys, nuclear war, spots and being taller than everyone else - at  5' 9" or 1.75 metres with awfully giant feet, size 8 - I felt like a giantess and not in a good way! I remember a stand off with one half of a pair of boots  - the only size 8 in stock I burst into tears (flipping hormones) and lost. The term Amazonian had yet to filter through to my ego along with any general understanding of my unique magnificence. Oh the Irony! I look back in awe now at the unstoppable energy, freedom, firmness of flesh and the whole world rolling ahead of me...
Anyway, enough of that Maiden, I think I've aged a bit and moved on to the Sixth Form now  - this one is feeling a bit more feisty, anarchistic, curious, eager to explore and ready to let themselves loose on the world! It was about this time that I first found and read The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries in between hiding it from my Mum it seemed so radical (she'd probably have loved it funnily enough) and started considering possibilities and concepts that had only previously flitted in and out of my conciousness in dreams and random thoughts. I was lucky to have some inspired teachers, 2 in particular - both

Rebel With A Cause

men, how they coped with a daily hormone flood at an all girls school, I'll never know, but they recognised the gifts we didn't yet realise we possessed. When stuck for an idea for my extended essay for English Literature A Level - something like 5000 words, my English teacher CJ (That's what we called him) suggested I wrote about Jane Austen as a feminist writer, after nearly wetting myself laughing I realised he was serious and went back for a second read. I came away with a B so I must have done something right! Odd that a male teacher and a long dead writer of romantic fiction taught me so much about more subtle threads of feminism. My other super teacher was the fabulous Mr Leighton, a left wing, radical tough talking Sociology teacher who taught us to question, to ask and to come to our own conclusions, always telling us that if we could back it up with intelligent theory we had a good argument. When we left he gave us all iconic postcard, mine as you can see is of Karl Marx superimposed on Marlon Brando as Johnny In The Wild One. On the back he'd written 'Find Your Cause'.... it took me a while Sir, but thank you! One of my treasures still, 27 years later. These days he'd probably get a disciplinary for handing out pictures of male role models to girls, or getting taken to the pub by a large gang of girls as a leaving do, we did that too!

Map Of The Caves

Not necessarily a link to Ker in any way shape or form, but these years were clearly shaping my particular awesome tangled double helix of DNA as it began to take shape and steered, lurched and crawled at times towards my path.
To indulge my Inner Maiden a little more, I finished off the week doing something I wanted to do for Mother's Day, my last little kick of teenage selfishness. Well after checking with Mum that we could do our Mother's Day stuff in the evening that is! I spent the morning and lunchtime with my lovely friends at North West Kent Pagan Green Circle, first at a moot and then a spooky and thrilling exploration of Chislehurst Caves with our own very special guide, exactly the sort of thing I relished doing late at night with like minded

Being Watched?

friends and fellow crazies in my youth! The caves are actually chalk mines that date back over 2500 years, with Druid, Saxon and Roman artefacts found in different areas, which were used to date and chart the excavation of the site. 22 miles of underground tunnels, that was once a temporary home to 15000 local people as an air raid shelter during the second world war, is bound to have it's fair share of ghost stories and tall tales.  I won't lie it's pitch black down there, you need to carry oil lamps round and it's definitely eerie, I'd have been terrified if we'd got lost or the lamps went out!  I knew of it's spooky reputation so made sure I grounded thoroughly before I left home. It certainly felt that someone was watching us all the way round, especially when you're the last one in the line and you can hear whispered conversation, something the guide said he often heard too when I spoke to him later! Cue some strategic elbowing to the front of the line... Judging by this photo we certainly weren't alone.  Don't be fooled by the apparent light in this photo, it's a pretty impressive flash!

Wall Carving

A local artist got permission about 20 years ago to create a wall carving to reflect her view of the Pagan aspect of the caves use throughout the years, it must have taken her ages - rather her than me that's for sure! Despite the feeling of being watched, hearing snatched conversations in empty chambers,  the terrifying blackness and total and utter reliance of trust in the tour guide, who took us on a fabulous hour and a half walk round this labyrinth, it was amazing! I could almost feel the arrogance and fearlessness of those teenage years, the utter conviction that we are forever young if not practically immortal as I bravely stopped and lingered in empty chambers and explored corridors, albeit with a companion, my ears on alert for strange noises and eyes straining, almost willing movement and dark shadows to appear. That and the fact that I knew I was surrounded by a bubble of light and safety, protected in my own little Goddess cocoon with

I Told You It Was Dark In There!

my fiesty Maiden.... 

Anyway clearly I have lived to tell the tale and survived to take a delicious Mother's Day afternoon tea up to my lovely Mum and spend some time with my precious children there too. A lovely family tea and evening that turned into a spirited political debate about the EU referendum and politics in general started by Mum and my son, who said I was giving up this fiery Maiden  energy just yet - she was thoroughly enjoying  herself after all she had Mum, Me and Sophie to energise and stir up!

Have A Blessed and Fearless Week x x 

A Truculent Maiden

Aged 2

Now, I don't know about anyone else but when I envisaged the Maiden energy, I had a romantic picture in my head of a sweet freckled blonde child smiling sweetly, giggling infectiously, pig tails flying behind her as she runs playfully tumbling through long grass, stopping suddenly, lost in the moment to earnestly admire a butterfly paused in flight on a pedestal of grass, or is that too much like a scene from Little House on the Prairie? 
Believe it or not I actually was a sunny natured, blonde freckled smiling cutie.... ok a very long time ago before I went through a myriad of hair colour changes -mousy brown, gingery, mid brown and finally darker brown before the grey made an entrance and I discovered the wonderful shades

Aged 4

that can be applied - black and purple being notable faux pas! 
To me the maiden conjured up images of boundless energy and curiosity, summer days, scuffed knees, innocence and childish confidence in all things good - albeit clad in dodgy seventies colours and styles, numerous shocking hair cuts and many goofy gappy smiles.
So this is what I envisaged when calling in Maiden Energy, really, honestly you'd think by now it really should be no surprise to me that very rarely do you get what you think you need - but what the Great Mother knows you need as a lesson, a comfort or just because. 
Instead of the fabulous childlike energy that had me jumping around in puddles and spinning around in fields before, I awoke last week and felt that I was somehow magically transformed onto the pages or film set of Freaky Friday ...moody, hormonal, grumpy and spotty - yes I'd woken up a teenager full of shouty, door slamming, angry, argumentative

Aged 14 - Me and Dad 

angst. Just what you need in your 40's - which is probably how my parents felt too!
Apparently I loved a stroppy stomp up the stairs, slammed more than my fair share of doors, including slamming one glass one shut so hard with my backside that I shattered it and had many a melt down about my hair. Of course I've changed since then - mainly because I no longer have the energy to stomp up and down the stairs, I have to pay for my own doors now and  as for my hair well maybe that still stresses me out more than it should -  I'd rather have that looking right than worry about make up! I always worked hard at school and still like to give work or any project

'Happy' In Spain - Aged 16

I'm involved in my all without slamming to many doors or too many strops! This week after working some long hours I seemed to hibernate in my teen cave of listening to loud music via the lap top instead of a walk man, avidly reading about witches - no change or watching too much rubbish on tv - very unusual for me or loudly voicing my political opinion every time certain MP's dared to appear on the screen, maybe not so unusual! My main worry was my CBA (Can't Be Arsed) attitude to anything and everything that didn't suit me - including daily practice and calling Goddess in, meditating and don't even get me on housework or responsible spending! Mercifully a boozy night out with  a dear friend and bad influence (love her really) was just what the teenage

Thoughtful vs Moody - Aged 19

agony aunt called for, with the 44 year old head remembering a pint of water before bed  to stave off a hangover! Moody Mare has lingered and it took forever to knuckle down and write but just like A Level level Essays I got there in the end and felt the rush of pride in a job well done, however nerdy that may have been! 
So what has my truculent maiden taught me this week? That it is ok to challenge everything and dig your heels in, to drop out for a bit to catch up with yourself and to sit with the emotions or energy that are whirling round you for a time, you can't always be on top of it all - a week off every now and then is just fine. As for dropping off your path, well that's ok too, a humble shuffle back amid some earnest  and honest soul searching may not be such a bad thing. 
Only thing I'm quite so sure about is letting your Mum choose your photos for your blog..... 

Have A  Blessed Week x x 

Finding The Corn Maiden

It's been an odd sort of week, one of those where it's either all or nothing. Work days seems to be very long and spread all over the county, added with early morning drop offs for the rest of the family and later pick ups -most of the week I've come home and crashed out - quite spectacularly on Wednesday - going to bed for an hour at ten to 6 and waking up nearly 13 hours later.....I must have needed it ! All of a sudden it's the weekend and apart from being Mum's taxi a few days of blissful chilling, I just wish I had some maiden energy that seems to be lacking a little at the moment, I'm just not feeling it at the minute - it's almost like the Crone energy has lingered, perhaps it's just the February blues!

Fit for a Fairy!

So today I found myself home alone with no car and decided to scoop myself up out of the armchair and pull my wellies on venture out to reconnect with the land and drag my inner maiden out of her cosy den to play whether she fancied it or not. Wellie-clad, armed with my camera and my phone defiantly on silent and tucked away in an inner pocket, I trotted up the road heading for my recently discovered new favourite place, splashing in the puddles and vowing to allow my senses to be overloaded. Less than a quarter of a mile from home I found this tree that looked to me like a perfect fairy home - see the Maiden was coaxed out to play after all, crouching to take a photo, I jumped like a naughty child when my neighbour a few doors down strolled past asking what I was doing, luckily she knows me well enough to smile at me indulgently and agree that yes it did look like a fairy house, before walking off very quickly! I headed off to my destination but was rather miffed to hear the sound of trials bikes as I approached - disgruntled was the word! 

New Spring Growth

(That's my word of the week - especially since I discovered that you could be the opposite and be "gruntled"! As a friend said- the word was indeed 'gruntle making' - Love it!)
Undeterred I reminded myself that it's not only my 
place and that the happy noise of the lads on the bikes was proof of this! Plodding on I decided to try a new path, admiring the fresh leaves unfurling and the new growth budding on the plants, listening to the noises of the woods the trees clacking their branches above me, the wind whistling through them and rustling the remaining leaves, it made me feel as though the woods were welcoming

Eye Spy....

me, the fanciful part of me imagined that they were talking to me - you wait I'll be talking to trees and plants next! All jokes aside the woods felt really alive, I can see how our ancestors looked at these woods, hills, rivers and found Goddesses and Gods in all that surrounded them. Many times I felt as though I was being watched or listened to by hidden creatures, birds and even the woods the trees themselves - this silver birch bark looked like eyes! 
I envisaged myself connecting myself to the land - arms outstretched in the middle of a woodland path, grounding myself through the connective thread between the land and stars - then had a bit of a spin round just because I

could! Viva La Maiden! Trailing through the wood land I was suddenly aware of the texture and feel of things - the smooth green velvety moss that carpets  the stunted coppiced trunks and the silky softness of the dusty catkins that dangled tantalisingly over head festooning the stark trees - having to jump up to catch them as I walked underneath.
I emerged onto the main road and found a stile I had driven past thousands of times and never even noticed, immediately opposite that led me through apple orchards that had the first signs of buds before turning a corner and finally throwing me out to my joy into the old corn field - the same one that became a bean field last

year! Well something has been planted already - I'm not sure quite what yet, but I'll definitely be back to see, maybe when it's been a bit drier - the pathway was a quagmire of boot, paw and hoof prints - which it must have been since time immemorial. I thought about some spinning through the fields but after nearly landing head first in the mud I changed my mind, so had a more sedate moment of arm outstretched contemplation soaking up the changing land. So a late arrival by the Corn Maiden and a bit of a timely reminder that it's time to get back down the allotment and get cracking again, the land needs to be rotivated, the crops decided on, seeds sown and tubers planted, it's a good job I've got a few days annual leave this week - I think I'm going to need them - and that's just to get over the digging ...

Have A Blessed Week x x 

Love, Hearts and Flowers

Well it's been a very normal week, whatever that might mean! 
One of those weeks where I think "Help-there's nothing to write about" -  I haven't been out and about doing Goddess things, just a run of the mill week, apart from having a surge of creative ideas and some very visual groundings, meditations and dreams which I have come to expect with the waxing moon.

Couldn't Resist This One!

That alone means that I am aware of the waxing and waning of the moon, so a little Goddess link there then that I wasn't necessarily aware of! 
However on Saturday I popped in the local charity shop in the neighbouring village to check out their jigsaws (rock and roll baby!) for my lovely parents (honestly) and picked up this beauty. I saw the spine of the book and my hand shot out, I think you can all imagine my delight when I saw the front cover with the picture of the Sulis Minerva from the Roman Baths at Bath on the front.  For anyone who hasn't heard of Her, Sulis possibly also meaning Sun was the local  Celtic name for the Goddess of the Springs at Bath, called 'Aquea Sulis' by the Romans who also added Minerva - presumably an attempt to assimilate but also a natural pairing as they shared many similar characteristics  such as  'restitution' (restoration/recompense) of theft and justice - funny how that happens across continents throughout the history of the world?! 
On Saturday night we went to a party and I was delighted to catch up with some friends we lost contact with about 8 years

Quartz Heart Given to Me By
A Dear Neighbour Years Ago

ago, the conversation turned to children and a long discussion followed about not their being able to have them, part of the reason of their self imposed exile. Whilst I know many people who haven't the blessing of a baby to love, the depth of the conversation rocked me to the core and later when we were home moved me to tears at the depth of their pain, their hope, their disappointments and finally their fortitude and strength. My tears weren't of pity but of a deep sense of ignorance - almost guilt or shame that I hadn't really thought about the subject in depth before, that I had blithely assumed like most of us do that this is a natural progression in life. I looked back to the child/maiden that I was, blindly confident of my future imaginary children so ok there are a couple less than I'd envisaged and neither of them are  a rock star or Harley Street surgeon yet but hey, they are pretty

A Present From One Of My Best Friends

blooming amazing to me just as they are! 
It got me thinking though, about the Motherline that constantly calls and whispers to me, the debates about nurture versus nature and about the many  wonderful women I know that have put their time, effort and love into step children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, god children, foster children, adopted children and pupils .... This love must carry itself forward, these children having the blessing of being loved and cherished by additional people must absorb, influence and take on these non genetic characteristics, qualities, beliefs and mannerisms bequeathed to them if not inherited. I can see it it my own children, the influence that my Husband has had on them, those of his lovely late Mum - sayings, mannerisms and even facial gestures. Maybe the mother line overcomes this generational genetic blip in some way and adds facets that are apparent later down the line too..... I think so, I can already see signs of it amongst many of the children and adults I know who have been blessed and loved by a non biological mum, aunt, nan, sister or teacher.
Valentines Day has always struck me as odd!

A Burning Heart...

A martyred Christian saint  as a reason to spend a fortune on cards, over priced flowers, chocolates, bubbly and romantic breaks - now I'm not a cynic, I'm up for those as much as the next person, I just think it's a wry old mixture! Apparently the original St Valentine (there were several) was arrested for conducted weddings of Roman soldiers to Christian and/or non Christian women which was not allowed at the time and whilst not quite promoting free love, supporting inter faith marriages, ok so I like the sound of him a bit more! 
This of course is exactly  around the time of Lupercalia in the pre Christian calendar - Greek and  Roman festivals held around the same date: 13th - 15th February to avert evil spirits, to purify the cities and towns and release health and fertility, with plenty of naked running around  the city, slapping women's hands (with what one wonders?!) for luck and fertility! It sounds more like Beltane to me, we certainly wouldn't want to be doing that here in February - things could drop off! I have yet to find any connection to any

Goddess for either celebration, however the Roman festival may be named for Lupa the She Wolf who myth and legend says suckled the abandoned infant twins Romulus and Remus the founders of Rome - and of course She Wolf is a term to denote a fiercely protective mother ! 
So She was at the root of it all....

It wouldn't be Valentines without the twelve red roses from himself......
I hope you've all a had a week full of love in whatever shape or form it may be.

Have a Blessed Week x x 

Feeling Childlike...

Early Blossom

Spring has Sprung! 

Well that's how it feels here this week - despite the rather fierce wind and the odd gusty shower, the plants are slowly unfurling their delicate faces and petals to the wintry sun that shines brightly with a sudden and sudden surprising brilliance, alternating with weak rays that struggle to filter their way through the dark clouds as the final vestiges of winter reappear to remind us where we are in the ever turning wheel of the seasons.

No one seems to have told this lovely tree at work though and the blossom is multiplying daily like a joyous bunting waiting to proclaim the arrival and festivities of spring.

After clearing away the old energies from my altar, I had a rummage amongst my candles and altar pieces and realised

It Appealed to My Inner Maiden!

I hadn't really got anything maiden like to redress it with. I lit a single candle, grounded myself and called Goddess in as her maiden aspect and spent a little while meditating and sitting with the new energies. Instead of dashing off out to buy something suitably 'Goddessy' to adorn it with, I decided to rummage in my bags of fabric and found a jazzy cloth of green gingham - that seemed to call the maiden energy to mind when I found it! I cut it and hemmed it to cover the window sill. Inspired, I then dug out an old votive candle jar that I'd kept for some reason or other, cleaned out all the old wax and decorated it with some pretty bird stickers that I'd found too, it really appealed to the inner Maiden, the little Claire tucked away inside - I  even showed Mark and my children with great glee - not unlike a child gaily waving a painted blob on a scrumpled 

up sheet of paper at their parents after school convinced they've just created a masterpiece!
I was that inspired and convinced of my own artistic genius by now, I even strung a handful of bells left over from a Christmas project onto a wire and decorated this old chutney jar to make another candle holder - Gee is there no end to my talent...and yes I do have to give it a shake to make it jingle every time I walk past! I even just grinned to myself and had to go and rattle it after writing about it!
I'd already treated myself to a miniature daffodil plant that was just about ready to burst into bloom which nearly completed the altar along with a green candle I was kindly given for Christmas and an old corn dolly that  I had made last year from raffia and banished to the top

Imbolc Altar

of my dresser that been mournfully staring down through the rest of the years Sabbats and a small bag of seeds that was a present from  my very first circle several years ago. To finish it off I found a beautiful green glass art deco style dish that had been my Nan's, then my Mum's - now mine and filled it with an offering of yellow and green sweets. An odd eclectic mix, but it works for me and represents Imbolc and the Maiden energy as I am feeling it this year, very young and childlike at the moment -those who know me personally won't be surprised! With the recycled items and older items I feel as though the maiden carries with her an essence of her Motherline and honours the departed Crone energy that has given way to make way for her.
A bit more research on the earthworks in the woods has also suggested that it was the site for a warning beacon during the Napoleonic wars and even further back when the threat of the Spanish Armada loomed over the land, this bright burning fire of wood and pitch would have been part of a series that linked the coast and London, as well as the South West, the distant fires would allow the warning to spread quicker than a horse and rider - this made me smile even more, how apt a huge blaze for the fiery Maiden energy of Imbolc/Candlemas, you really couldn't make it up! I really need to get to the local archives and delve a bit deeper.

Plans are being finalised for the Glastonbury Goddess Conference and being made for a new discovery day with my circle sisters again this summer, which made me both excited and wistful at the same time - I'll be delighted to see them all again, it made me realise how much I miss their energy and the strength of our circle when we are together. So for a while I felt very small and distant from that warmth and light, a flicker of doubt that I am not doing enough, that my childish altar isn't fit for my Goddess and the fear that I should be following a more structured path - maybe a proper training, where someone can guide me and can point me in the right direction, instead of 'pottering' about in woods and fields, staring at trees and hedgerows, admiring standing stones for hours on end and decorating empty jars with stickers and bells......
Out of the blue, but obviously a divine intervention - one of beautiful circle sisters messaged me her excitement about about all getting together again and so made me realise that it's not just me feeling the need to connect with a larger group every now and then,thank you Rity! Verbal and mental kick up the back side duly given to myself, my pottering along in my woodland and field pathways, is exactly where I should be walking. Walking the land so familiar and loved, discovering the old paths, listening to ancient voices that walked them, listening for new voices that walk them with me and adding my own steps and murmurs to them, a path of rediscovery that is my honour to walk, voices that are my privilege to hear and places that will be my joy to explore.

Have a Blessed Week x x