Simple Smudge Sticks

I thought I'd share the information sheet I made for the workshop with you, just in case anyone is getting as obsessed with DIY smudge sticks as me!

Gather a good handful of herbs, flowers and some foliage like the ones described below, keeping all the stalks to one end. Don't worry about them being wet or green, they are easier to work with like that. Sometimes I use bamboo leaves as an outer layer.

Measure a piece of twine/string that is safe to burn to about 5 times the length of your bundle. Use an elastic band to secure the stalk end of your smudge stick. You can remove it or cut it out later.

Fold the twine in half and make a loop about an inch or two long to hang it with. Secure the looped part of the twine round the back of the elastic band end, tie and re-tie very firmly.

Take the twine and cross over from behind all the way down the body of the smudgestick at regular intervals so that you form a criss-cross diamond pattern.

Pull the twine as hard as possible - the dried finished article will shrink.
Secure at the other end and cut off any excess twine and remove the elastic band. Don't worry if you have an uneven end or there are flowers sticking out.

Finally using the loop hang up to dry thoroughly for about 4 weeks. I would recommend not lighting this over a flammable carpet or flooring without a shell or bowl beneath!

Rosemary 
For remembrance and warding off 
negativity, wards off bad dreams and 
keep thieves at bay. Attracts faerie energy 
and purifies the air. 


Bay Laurel  
Good for banishing unwanted spirits, sanctifying an area before a ritual, purifying and cleansing. Also enhances psychic ability and dreaming 


Lavender  
Purifying, cleansing and stress relieving, creates a balanced calm atmosphere. Traditionally averts evil spirits form entering a dwelling. 

Roses  
Rosewater can be worn on clothes as a protection and petals guard against the evil eye. Brings love and good fortune. Encourages friendly spirits.

Honeysuckle 
Attracts love, luck and wealth. Burn to support any money drawing spell. Brings happiness to a home and can increase psychic dreaming 

Hyssop 

Helps breaks hexes, curses and negative energies. Renowned for purity and protection. Often used as part of a protection ritual. 

 

Lemon Balm 
Used to ward off evil and to promote good health and cheer. Traditionally brings joy and peace as well as promoting self nurturing. Associated with reducing stress and encouraging relaxation. 

Jasmine  
Positivity and simplicity in overcoming hurdles. Brings purity, harmony and balance to relationships & the home.  

Bamboo 

This brings tranquility and humility. Associated with the spirit of the summer and the ability to bounce back after adversity. New life. 

Olive  

Brings luck and protection, Good for cleansing and purifying. Calls to the ancestors. Symbolic of peace and 
fertility in both sexes.




Of course, there are many, many more! 
These just happen to be the ones in my garden 😊 Blessings Claire x x  

The Legend Of Fred the Bat and The Unbalanced Chakra....

Anyone heard the story of this wondrous tale before? No? Well that's a shocker! 

Certainly the stuff of legends, or maybe nightmares. It started innocently enough. 
Picture the scene... it was a bright summer's morning, sun shining, bees buzzing busily, birds chirping merrily...

Sadly not my Garden!

Enter stage left, a certain Goddess loving blogger, all organised and packed ready to explore the woodland charms of Walmer with Folkestone Pagan Circle for their Summer Camp. As she ventured dreamily into her garden all Disney Snow White-Like, singing softly to herself, gathering lemon balm, honeysuckle and hyssop for the smudge stick making craft session she would be lovingly facilitating later (I know they are becoming an obsession) she stopped in horror at the fearsome sight under the gazebo and cried in terror to her handsome luminous yellow Hi-Vis clad warrior -"Mark !! Those bloody cats have left a half mauled bat on the grass." Cue Screeching sounds as fairy tale fades out of focus.

Closer inspection by himself before dashing off to work revealed the bat to be completely un-mauled, just tiny and sadly, very dead. Now I was in a quandary, I too needed to move fast, curious cats were watching the scene with interest. Stood there with my arms full of fragrant foliage, I realised the ground was too hard to dig a hole, unprepared to merely toss this furry gorgeousness in the bin or leave him for the cats to play with, putting him in the freezer until I returned would just freak himself out - the thought popped into my head, I know I'll take it work to show Janine....
Now my friend and colleague Janine, I hasten to add is not a bat whisperer or worshipper as far as I know, but I had to show her! She and many other colleagues were delighted at the chance to view this beautiful creature at close hand. Not too close, gloves are necessary as they can have rabies but you know what I mean!

So  that's how it came to pass that Fred as he became known - yes as in Drop Dead Fred, lay in state in a tissue box  - a visiting colleague admiring Fred, my desk crystal and witches salt remarked that it was better than being at Hogwarts. When I left on my journey to Walmer, Fred came with me.

Misty Beach View Just Below the Camp Site

On arrival, I greeted my Folkestone friends and explained about Fred, I'm pretty sure Laura and Jason's stunned reply of " You bought a dead bat with you?" was one of delight, maybe it was shock, or disbelief. It was enough for other campers to investigate, Charlotte managing to raise herself from her slumber to meet the person who brought a dead bat to camp. How's that for an ice breaker?

It was agreed that Fred would be cremated on our fire that night, but after we had toasted our marshmallows of course, we're not completely uncouth us Pagans!

We explored our weekend home, a misty magical beach,woodland fire pits, 200 Belgian venture scouts who bizarrely had an air raid siren as a dinner gong, and we're the weird ones? Later we held beautiful simple fire circle and ceremony: singing, drumming, marshmallow toasting, wonderful story telling, curious children staring at us from tree stumps telling us that our ceremony was cool. What a fabulous evening.

Claire's Arts and Craft's Session

The next morning as I collected the foliage and herbs for the arts and crafts, I realised with horror we hadn't cremated poor Fred. Bless him, this really wasn't the weather for a dearly departed bat in a car boot, lets just say an ice block was put to good use, and promptly disposed of later.

We spent the morning making smudge sticks, dangly pentagram and herb thingy and mobiles, new friends bonding with laughter and slightly rude conversations, before having lunch and enjoying a afternoon workshop involving a meditation and spirit of sacred places talk. So peaceful to feel the here and now, tuning into the spirit of the place in the cool haven of the woodland.

No Pagans Were Harmed During Chakra Balancing

(- I'm not quite so sure about the crystals)

The final workshop of the day was a wonderful crystal meditation and chakra balancing by the lovely Kayleigh. During the meditation Tourmaline was the crystal that called out to me - I've never seen one before, the name literally shouted in my head. Hmm. Kayleigh showed us how to check our chakras with the crystals and how to balance them and we all practiced on each other. Surprisingly most of mine were balanced, except my crown and root. That poor red jasper on my root chakra did not want to stay there, it fell off, probably because my belly was jiggling where we laughing, it fell between my legs and still I wouldn't balance! My crown was fine after a little while but this unbalanced chakra meant business. Kayleigh had to call in the big guns with a tigers eye until finally the pendulum went the right way. Trust me to have such an unbalanced and troublesome chakra! Interestingly though all the ladies of a ahem certain maturity (rules me out - I wish) had issues with their root, something to ponder! Finally after tea, me and my freshly balanced chakras once again went to the fire circle, this time taking poor Fred with us.

The Fire Wheel and Fred's Ceremony

Again we opened another circle, singing, drumming, more admiring small children and some curious (make that alarmed) parents watching us too. After marshmallows were consumed, we gently placed Fred in his box on the fire and surrounded him with a fire wheel we had made of foliage, flowers and herbs with wishes to send to the Goddess, Gods, Universe and sang a wonderful song called 'Fire Transform Me' that we had learnt the night before. As we sang, I looked up through the gap in the trees above the fire pit and to my utter amazement there were about 12 bats circling. You couldn't make it up! It was amazing and utterly magical. We all stared in total awe. There really is no other word to describe it other than magical. It gave me and everyone else too  goosebumps.

My Vision Board - Spot The Bat

On the last morning, our final activity with the lovely Jen was a vision board workshop. Sitting chatting we selected images and words that reflected our wishes, goals and dreams, some obvious, some more secret and some surprising - all with the intention of manifesting these things to happen - by focusing and prioritising. Simple yet powerful and effective. As you can see from mine above Fred was important, sounds silly but I needed to know more about bats. The words and pictures include my interest in working with the living and the dead, walking between them, supporting people on their journeys, grounding myself and relaxing more and  trying pottery - something I've always wanted to do. Jen's advice to have it as your phone and laptop screensavers is powerful. You see it several times a day, you make plans, you do something towards it....

So Tourmaline - no surprise there that it's for grounding and rooting, healing, balance and rejuvenation. As for Bats, well dear old Fred  is symbolic of life and death, healing and new doors opening, of rebirth , journeying and communication His kin magically coming to see him onto his next journey was so symbolic for me. Soul Midwife Course ...  booked.

So now you've read The Legend of Fred and The Unbalanced Chakra. 

Now didn't I say rebirth? When I got to work the following week, my lovely friend and colleague Pete has a little surprise present for me... Here it is enjoying the sun in my tomatoes last week. Pete's face when he reads about the bats will have been a picture! Thank You x

                  Have  A Blessed Lammas x x 

The Solstice of The Hormonal Duck

Blessed Litha!! Midsummer Blessings To You All....

Mid year blessings to you all! Litha, Midsummer or Summer Solstice - the turning point in the wheel where we reach the longest day and the shortest night. This fire festival has been celebrated for millennia. I celebrate Litha as a mixture of reflection and thanks for my blessings this year, reflections on what I wish to achieve, a chance to reevaluate and/or reset goals  and naturally, a mid year riot of fun with friends and loved ones. This year was no exception. Family celebrations and gatherings, A beautiful Oak Grove wedding and of course the institution that has become Summer Camp. Always a riot of laughter, craziness and wonderful company - this year was no exception.

Our Solstice Camp Mascots

So, hormonal ducks - I know you are desperate to know where they came from, well if only I knew! This year I managed to persuade my lovely friend Maria to camp, I was quite impressed with this feat....She's not normally a camping kind of girl. Camping then became glamping, "it's only a bit more..." in a lovely big Yurt, with beds and duvets, electric points for phones and straighteners (like I need them!) Anyway modern pagan-ing it became, which my back thanked me for and to be fair it was a lot nearer to the loo.

The Hormonal Duck Cocktail Bar

Our gorgeous Yurt normally known as the 'Festival' tent was home to 4 other campers, 2 of whom were pregnant, one at 8 weeks with twins and one more worryingly, at 8 months, add to the mix 4 peri, mid or post menopausal women and we became the Hormonal Tent. Someone asked about bringing  their dog, which was a no, so we joked about bringing a rubber duck. Carmel posted a picture of a rubber duck she had, the next day Shirley added a photo of one she bought to keep it company. This kind of snowballed. By the time we got there there was a real badling (fabulous archaic collective noun) of ducks, complete with a pool and hook-a-duck (with a hoop, not a 'lady of the night') complete with fishing rod, we became The Hormonal Duck tent. Add to this a wide variety of exotic alcoholic beverages and the Hormonal Duck Cocktail Bar was born - luckily no babies were - or created for that matter! Mid Summer Madness ensued....

Midsummer Moonlight - Courtesy of The Lovely Carmel Nettleingham

When we weren't being completely crazy hormonal duck ladies and terrifying small children or drinking cocktails, though to be fair they were fascinated by our duck collection and by us, we were just a bit crazy and laughed until our sides hurt, like teenagers on a school holiday. Silly in house jokes stuck, the ruder the better and we laughed like drains. The best medicine possible for all of us. I'd love to say that Carmel's amazing photo above reflects a peaceful night time tent, but that that would be a lie. Even asleep, we were riotously noisy - snoring, farting, snorting and mumbling to ourselves. Awesome.

The Glamorous Glamper En Route To The Standing Stones

In an attempt at some serious pagan-ing we walked to the remains of a local long barrow, the enigmatic (and much beloved by me) Kits Coty. We took with us a stick pentagram we had made as a Solstice Offering for the ancestors buried there, decorated with feathers, flowers and leaves we had gleaned from the camp site. I've known this place all my life, leading the way and we headed for another local menhir, The White Horse Stone, with me boldly navigating on a pathway I'd discovered. It appears that I am a hormonal duck that is directionally challenged. We had a nice walk in the woods, we discovered new paths. Yep we got lost. Yep I got us lost. We decided to head back for lunch instead. Cue more laughter and snorting. Let's just say, I know next year at least one joker will bring a map and compass for me or even a label with 'if lost please return this pagan to...' on it. If they are talking to me by then that is....

Our Offering To The Ancestors

So the ducks, hormonal or otherwise, why did they call to us? Apart from sheer insanity on the campers behalf, they are symbolic. Ducks are symbols of relaxation and going with the flow, of being in the now. They are also symbolic of being prepared and of knowing ancient wisdom. Wonderfully appropriate it seems for reflecting, re configuring and enjoying the here and now at Solstice. Who knew?

What a beautiful, laughter filled Solstice. Older friendships strengthened, new friendships blossomed. Deep musings and reflections mingled with laughter. Healing and Balm for mind, body and soul. What a complete joy and blessing.

Have A Blessed Week x x 

The Importance of Being

'The importance of being what ?' I hear you ask 'and while you're at it, where have you been?'
In answer to the second question - busy, hectic, rushing and not present; tired, hormonal, stressy and exhausted all rolled into one, which is not a good place! You know the sort of scenario when you wake up at 2.31 in the dark lonely hours of the morning for a good worry about something that happened in 1987.... Pants isn't it? 
Fortunately I found a map and the path back out....

Campfire For Just Being

Fire? No I haven't turned into a pyromaniac, although I've always had a penchant for the flickering light and heat of a good fire, don't worry I haven't been roaming round setting light to things in the wee small hours.  But yes, fire. I knew I was stressed and exhausted; and tired so bloody tired but I didn't realise how much until the weekend when I had the blessing of being away with friends at local micro festival and we were sat round the campfire.

Snuggled in my stripey warm poncho, looking like an extra from the hippy remake of the good, the bad and ugly, I gazed into the fire and a friend asked me I was ok as I was so quiet. Nodding, I turned to him and said 'I'm just being.....' As he nodded and smiled in understanding, I realised that for the first time in a long time I was literally just being... not doing, not talking, not sorting something out, not organising something, not rushing this way or that way, not planning anything, but just being and it was wonderful!

Camp Goddess Altar

It became our phrase of the weekend. I chose all the workshops that involved me doing as little as possible! Gong baths, meditations, Soundscapes with didgeridoos, a spontaneous birdsong 'walk and listen', listening to some amazing music and just being. There was chatter and laughter, so much laughter, that might have been fuelled by my homemade mead to be fair! Absolutely what the Witch Doctor ordered. 
On the last day I walked round the stalls to treat myself to something, looking for something that would sum up and represent the essence of the weekend for me, a reminder of the beautiful peace I'd experienced. On the crystal stall run by the wonderful chap who had taken us on the impromptu bird 'walk and listen' surprisingly called Derek (I was expecting him to be Dusty Moon or Nebuchadnezzar or something) - an unusual stone caught my eye and one hand shot out for it and the other for my purse....crystal bingo!

Moss Agate

Moss agate - never heard of it before let alone seen it. Guess what it's healing properties are especially? Yep - Stress reducing, balancing and healing the soul. That'll do me then! Isn't it beautiful? The moss like effect is either manganese or iron in the quartz. Awesome.
Fortunately I've had some more time off to just be... so feeling a bit more like myself I took myself off out for a walk through the horse fields today - I've been 'too busy' for the last couple of months, well I thought I was.

So today I strolled down to the woods and sat listening to the silence, admiring the lush emerald carpet of moss covering the rabbit warrens, listening to the creaking of the trees and the treble calls of the song thrush (I listened good and proper to Derek) then tap tap tap.. I heard the woodpecker again. Sure enough I saw a flash of black, white and red above me in the boughs. Too quick for my camera, but I saw their nesting hole and could hear them drilling out the tree from inside, which made a wonderful hollow 'donk' sound!

Where there is a Greater Spotted Woodpecker - There's a way!

Such a beautiful quirky triangle of woodland, it has a magic feel to it, real time doesn't seem to exist there. Perched on a fallen branch I closed my eyes in the sun and sat there relishing the mossy green sanctuary. Checking the time I laughed at myself - I'd been lurking in the woods for an hour! Walking back I watched the breeze blow the last of the may blossom from the hawthorn trees like confetti, smiling to myself I imagined a grassy knoll as an altar for the animals or the May Queen or The Goddess and The Green Man at a Beltane wedding. A startled rabbit ran across my path and laughing I imagined him as a drunk reveller left over from the woodland wedding, trying to find his way home having lost his friends and missed his lift....

A Woodland Beauty

A line from a poem kept running through my mind 'And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul' (attributed to John  Muir)
Just as I was about to leave the woods I saw this beauty and it made me gasp, Goddess, May Queen, Woodland Spirit - or even just a tree! It's wonderful the things you find when you are just being...

Have a Blessed Week x x 

Spinning In Circles

So, hands up - who has ever heard of a red tent? I hadn't until about 4 years ago when they were explained to me at a workshop in Glastonbury by the lovely Michelle the priestess who was nurturing us in her Goddess workshops. For those who are wondering, like I did why the colour of your camping gear really matters, a red tent is a gathering for women to talk, listen and share at a particular time in the lunar cycle, either at the new or the full moon. 

Goddess relief bathed in red light at Knole's Orangery

This movement has grown over the last twenty years or so years, increasingly popular since the novel the of the same name The Red Tent was written by Anita Diamant (Well worth a read) which has recently been televised in a mini series.
These red tents have taken their name from the menstruation huts or moon lodges that women gathered in away from the rest of the tribe in early and primitive societies whilst they were bleeding. I have to say that this did stir thoughts of oppression in my head, that the women were somehow considered unclean and shunned by being made to leave the comfort and maybe safety of their homes, but the thought that these red tents became rich sacred spaces where love and wisdom was shared by generations of women weaving a rich tapestry of words and song, passing down women's mysteries through their matriarchal line pervaded and I didn't think much more about it.

People have been mentioning Red Tents to me again lately, then the tv series was advertised whilst I was watching something else, bit of a nudge from Goddess? I remember Michelle telling me that I'd be good at hosting a red tent, me laughing saying what because I'm bossy and talk too much? Then I thought about it and decided yes I am friendly and talk to everyone and yes I am good at organising things...why not? There is one in existence locally, I even joined up several years ago and have never gone, never felt the pull to it, absolutely nothing against the ladies there but instinct was telling me to create my own Goddessy/Witchy/Pagan circle - all that zingy energy flying around at Imbolc that made me do it! So I did it, I tentatively asked ladies in my local Maidstone Pagans group, that by chance or more likely some Godessy design I have ended up running as least as the admin of the group, organising the moots and arranging stuff - told you I was a bossy boots! Anyway I was delighted to be mobbed with interest, women saying 'yes this is exactly what I need', 'I love this idea' and more importantly when and where??

Honour The Goddess Within

Then it nearly all crunched to a halt, my friend Richard who I had been discussing Red Tents and a more recent movement  White Tents for men (- their name taken to represent semen as their source of fertility in case you were wondering, I did!) messaged me to say he'd found some articles to suggest that this was still enforced in some parts of the world, where women were forced to inhabit menstruation huts in absolute squalor whilst they are bleeding even resulting in deaths from cold and infection. Horrified I did some research and sure enough he was right. I knew in my heart of hearts that this would have been the origin, that women would have been shunned for their very womanliness, but this was the stark reality and was still happening now, could I wholeheartedly create and support something that had it's roots here? Was it making a mockery of what we all believed?
As luck - sorry I mean the Goddess would have it, over the next couple of days I was using up a few days annual leave and had planned to take some time to recharge, including doing a deep meditation, listening  to one of my favourite meditation CDs - Sacred Womb Sound Journey. As usual I soon drifted away on a trip deep within to the dreamtime, even himself will agree with this, he'll kill me for telling you but he's done this with me a couple of times and fallen asleep!

Sure enough I came to dribbling a long while later with a snort, a couple of cats in situ taking advantage of my warm stillness. Stretching and trying to catch fragments of my dream journey, I was still unsure quite how I felt about the whole red tent idea but I felt lighter. Washing up later, (of all the unGoddessy activities I could be doing) it hit me with a start that women had created these beautiful circles out of a fused sense of shame, sorrow and oppression, that rather than be bowed or broken they had turned the very abuse they suffered into an opportunity to share wisdom and love, the support that they would have offered during these dark times shouldn't be wasted. It probably helped to set this clear in my mind as we approached the 100 year anniversary of Women getting the vote - we'd hardly not vote because of the treatment the Suffragettes suffered in their cause would we or because Emily Davison lost her life? No, exactly.We could even use our circles to raise awareness, campaign for the end of these abhorrent practices and involve ourselves in projects that support women across the world. 
So with that, I created a page for the interested ladies called it the Moon Circle and now we have a date booked at the next New Moon to gather here at my house...EEEK! To be honest I'm slightly concerned that I'm responsible for holding and facilitating it, what if no one comes? What if everyone comes? But hey ho I can chat a lot and am good at organising things.......

Have a Blessed Week x x

References used in the links:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/life/why-women-are-gathering-in-red-tents-across-the-uk/
http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/world-menstrual-hygiene-day-first-hand-account-nepal-menstrual-huts-death-confinement-a7752951.html
https://www.bustle.com/articles/198540-menstrual-huts-still-exist-and-heres-why-thats-a-problem

The Callieach, Bride and Angus - Og Or How The Battle Of Spring Was Won

Blessed Imbolc  Everyone!

I learned about this Myth at the weekend and today felt inspired to sit and write this today, so look away now if you don't fancy an Epic Saga of a Poem !!

The Callieach, Bride and Angus- Og

Or How The Battle Of Spring Was Won

(Pronouncing Bride as Breed)

The ancient legends of long ago,

Tell of an icy realm of frost and snow.

Ruled by Callieach the Crone,

Hard and unyielding as a stone.

Each spring when warmer days should come,

She hid the land from rays of sun.

The earth stayed bare, no green would show

Frozen rivers barely dared to flow.

She roamed the frozen wastes of land,

Her fearsome staff in withered hand

And stamped out any sign of growth

With muttered ancient, cursing oath.

Crone kidnapped the beautiful Maiden, Bride

And although she tried to beg and plead

She kept her wretched as a slave

And hid her in her dark foul cave.

The maiden asked each day to be set free

The Callieach laughed and smirked with glee

‘When this marked fleece is white as snow

I will consent to let you go’

Each winter’s day she sent her forth

To dark icy waters in the north

Bride scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail

Her hands were frozen-cold and pale.

When Father Winter came a wandering

He stopped and listened to her sing

Enchanted and tender to her plight

He shook the fleece til purest white.

The grateful Maiden ran back home,

To show her captor, the heartless Crone

She picked some snow drops on the way

To celebrate the fateful day.

The Crone went wild, she shrieked with ire,

Whilst Bride possessed of new found fire

Claimed her right and left her prison

Just like a fiery phoenix risen.

Her flight was watched by Crone’s own son

Known as Angus Og - the Ever Young

Who had only ere seen Bride in dreams

Now knew he saw his wondrous Queen

Through greening lands he rode his horse

And found fair Bride amongst the gorse,

Proclaimed his love on bended knee

And kissed her under a Rowan Tree.

The raging Crone was wild and mean,

With horror she saw the land turn green,

Shy violets emerging in darkest hue

Frozen waters flowing blue.

She cast a spell to call forth a gale

Of sleet and snow, of wind and hail.

The storm raged on for three more days

The land a bitter wintry haze.

She knew that if she crushed all new life down,

She still could wear her Wintry Crown

But if Angus married Bride the fair

She’d be banished back to her dark, dank lair

No sign of spring was left to show,

All life had vanished deep below.

At last the Crone thought she had won

She hadn’t counted on her son.

Now Angus Og was calm and wise

Had up his sleeve one last surprise,

He borrowed three days from summers end

And warm winds and sun began to send.

Whilst Crone slept her exhausted sleep of glee

The buds unfurled on every tree,

The grass grew green across the land

Flowers bloomed when touched by Bride’s own hand

So that’s the tale of how spring became

And every year the battle flames

Crone tries to fight with cold and rain

Yet very year she fights in vain

Spring bursts forth, then Summer too

With Sunny days and skies of blue

Until the autumn chill draws near

And we know that Winter will appear.

The Callieach will stir and claim her throne

And take her place as Winter Crone.

Bringing with her darkness, bleak and cold

And so at last, my tale is told.

Have a Blessed Week x x 

Wintery Celebrations

Beautiful Sun Setting in the week

So, what do you do when you've planned to get up early on a Saturday morning and go for a good old roam around the countryside to reconnect and watch the earth wake up, when you discover you didn't set an alarm, you've slept in until nearly 9 and it's piddling down? It's a bit like the old lemon scenario you can gripe or make lemonade. A bit early for lemonade, so I chose tea and a curl up with some feline friends and catch up on just a bit more reading instead then, whilst making a mental to do list. Catching up on things that I keep meaning to get on with, like...er Blog - it's been a while hasn't it?

I've come to the conclusion that I hibernate like a bear or prehistoric ancestor, that emerges from the cave  back into the light yawning and scratching a mop of wild tangled hair, well here I am in all my Goddess bathed glory - PJ clad and attempting to throw something semi coherent together. Certainly not a spring time Goddess that flows through my veins! Having said that I was super busy over Yule/Christmas - blessed with visits from all my family and friends, seriously I went back to work in the new year for a rest.

Solstice Table

We had a beautiful meal for Solstice, I've pinched a couple of my Lulu's photos (She of Beltane Morris Dancing Fame). I decorated fir cones with egg white and sugar like  you do cocktail glasses to make them look snowy without adding anything chemically to them as we were going to burn them later and added them to brown card luggage tags to make place cards with a dual purpose. Much hilarity at the at table I can tell you, my lovely parents came and were on top form, myself and David, our son's lovely man had finished work early and enjoyed a few proseccos whilst we were getting it all ready... After dinner we wrote thanks for 2017 and wishes for 2018 on the back of the luggage tabs and braved the elements to have a magickal fire, whilst Mum and Lulu threatened to dance round the garden before we threw our fire cones into it and sent our Solstice thanks and wishes and thanks to Goddess or whoever we individually believe in. Simple, fun and wonderful.

 

 

Magickal Fire

Last weekend saw us off wassailing again, everyone does it differently it seems, everyone furiously debates who, when, where and how but our usual one is good enough for me. Listening to the rhythmic drumming resound back from the castle walls in waves that vibrate and resonate through your whole body, the sound of the old instruments accompanying the morris dancers  as the stepped their circles round, all lit by hundreds of torches I felt tribal energy and could easily imagine the simple satisfaction and awe of the ancestors as they took part in these simple farming and abundance rituals asking their Goddess of the land for a good crop, offering up bread and wine in return. Torch Light Procession Feeling big and brave, me and my lovely friend Maria went exploring in the dark and brooding twilight grounds of Pevensey Castle. Every single time I've been there, I've felt the eerie presence of something, Maria had never been before and seeing as she too is an intrepid paranormal investigator, I confidently offered to give her an impromptu tour in the dark. No surprise she too felt the same feelings of dread and fear in the same places.  Spot The Orb! Walking back as nonchalantly as possible we heard the strains of a bagpipe close by...turning our heads in slow motion we looked at each other, confirming that we could both hear it. Through the darkness we could just make out a shadow moving by the castle wall, convinced we were about to encounter a headless ghostly piper or some such apparition, we both jumped as it gave an almighty bellow wail and cough and a Morris dancing musician came into focus in the gloom as he finished his warm up and strolled through the exit back to the market place for the wassail. We moved pretty damn quickly for two strapping lasses in walking boots back to the pub and civilisation.... oh how we laughed! Well that's a quick catch up of how I've been celebrating the short days and dark nights of winter, taking the chance to look inwards whilst the Earth sleeps, listening out for the Crone in the rushing call of the wind and seeing her in the stooped withered trees. I've taken the opportunity to make time to read my way through some of my reading pile, created a warm nest in my little crafting room and started on some of my plans that were permanently on the back burner. it looks like I'll be looking forward to the fertile spring, to celebrating Imbolc and watching my ideas take shape and grow.                                         Have a Blessed Week x x