Related posts:

1. Happy Birthday Me!
2. Happy Lughnasadh!
3. Happy Beltaine!

The obligatory staff Xmas party, which involved pizza and virtual golf.

I have watched the sunset every night for the last week or more (helps that I work outdoors in the evenings)

Attended a couple of holiday parties.

Drank beer and whiskey.

Made and drank mulled wine.

Went on a walk in the woods at night with my room mate.

Attended the Yule ritual for my ritual group/coven/hedge, which was awesome and cozy and full of wonderful stories.

Ate half a sugar cookie (I am cutting down on sugar, especially the refined kind)

Worked a little on the prayer shawl, I am out of wool.

Bought the ingredients for homemade Irish cream.

The ancestors got a cigarette at the start of the holidays.

Introducing new & replacement pieces to the casting collection.

Bought the ingredients for “fixings” or “trimmings” (gravy, stuffing, you know)

Bought or made gifts.

Found a really neat lantern that casts the shadow of a stag, which will come in handy for longest night.

Decorated a tree.

Gave two toys to charity (teddy bears).

Sorted my BoS a little bit.

Wrote a beautiful article for NUP and then lost about 1/3 of it due to stupidity on my part. Currently re-writing.

Ordered some herbs and goodies to play with this winter (more on that later)

Decked the halls.

Made bread pudding.

Ate potluck.

Kicked over a half melted snow man in the park because I am evil and it’s fun.

Mailed a parcel.

Got a card in the mail.

Related posts:

1. Dyeing for Midsummer
2. The Way it Goes
3. A Few Things That Work (and other things)

Stayed in the big cabin.

Swam naked in the lake in October.

Played with clay.

Celebrated Autumn and the harvest and gave thanks.

Built a nice fire.

Played games.

Ate lots of food.

Said bon voyage to a friend. Crash was there too.

Now I have to … Zzzzzzzzz …

Related posts:

1. Dyeing for Midsummer
2. The Way it Goes
3. Random things that have been on my mind

I brought some yarn I spun myself, one was organic merino wool and the other angora and lambs wool (which was terribly over spun out of fear of sucking at spinning).

I also brought the skein of the very first yarn I spun with my drop spindle, which is made of organic bamboo. I have been using the bamboo mostly for offerings, first of fruits and all that. I intended to dye it, packed it and brought it along and everything, but somehow it didn’t come out of the bag.

I also brought some roving (un-spun fibres) and a piece of cloth. The cloth is linen and it was cut into strips and then woven together, it’s very cool. I had originally bought it years ago for the purpose of building a Horned God effigy in my grove. It was going to be His shirt. But that was when I had a whole mountainside for such things. I don’t anymore! I was throwing around the idea of making a skirt out of it when Lis pointed out that I ought to make an altar cloth with it. She’s right of course, I bought it for ritual purposes and I should keep it as such.

I stuck with the natural dyes this time around and it was pretty awesome. We wildcrafted some of the herbs (Queen Anne’s Lace) ourselves and everything.

The linen looks like it was dragged through a field of daffodils … awesome. The roving didn’t felt and the homespun turned out pretty cool. Yay!

Other gals dyed all kinds of things, from scarves to a hat. Then we ate BBQ.

Bren isn’t crazy about me having projects about the house, taking up space and messing with his need for an ordered environment to write in. The soup cans used to help block my yarn fall out and hit the floor (loudly) now and then. He is not amused, but he hasn’t complained yet. I keep calling the hanging soup cans my death trap. *snicker*

The Consecration of the Cloth

Well can I say my rune,
Descending with the glen;
One rune,
Two runes,
Three runes,
Four runes,
Five runes,
Six runes.
Seven runes,
Seven and a half runes,
Seven and a half runes.

May the wearer of this clothing never be wounded,
May torn she never be;
What time she goes into battle or combat,
May the sanctuary shield of the gods be hers.
What time she goes in ritual or hedgecrossing,
May the sanctuary shield of the ancestors be hers.

(Repeat last stanza 7.5 times)

Adapted from the Carmina Gadelica

***

Juniper’s Drop Spindle Blessing

Bless, O Lady of Arts & Crafts

The drop spindle I bought for three dollars

And the angora roving that I have in hand

That came from the bunny that lives in the store

Bless the little hook

And the little piece of doweling

And the little weight that makes it spin

And the pointy tip at the bottom

Bless my clumsy hands and uncoordinated fingers

That I may learn to spin with out failing

And dropping the bloody thing all the time

Then wind up with a tangled mess

Bless my patience and perseverance

So that this does not become just another hobby

Picked up for a tine and forgotten

When something new and shiny comes along

Bless, O Lady of Arts & Crafts

My poorly spun and plied yarn

This tiny little skein of wool

That took fucking forever to make

So Mote it Be

Related posts:

1. A Few Things That Work (and other things)
2. Beltaine 2011
3. Sassy the Tambourine

I’m thinking of moving it into the sunroom in the warm part of the year. Then I can make a fuss about moving it “indoors” for winter each year etc. Who says you can’t have processionals in apartments?

Shelac. Sometimes, you just gotta use it.

My simple knife. It is by far the best tool I own for creation of sacred space and parting the Hedge. It is nothing more than a basic utility knife, handmade, with a wooden handle. The kind that you find at estate sales and flea markets. Something knife makers create for themselves, nothing fancy, just works. It fits in my hand, it’s just the right length. It’s old and worn.

I don’t even know what kind of wood the handle is made of. It’s old and beat up. I got it originally for whittling my stang. It’s now in need of some loving attention with a whetstone.

Oh and it’s awesome. It fits in my hand perfectly; the blade is the right size. And it’s an amazing ritual knife, especially for marking and making sacred space. I’ve never even consecrated the damned thing, really. It’s never been blessed or purified or anything.

It’s been used for all sorts of jobs; from whittling, or cutting string, to digging crud out from the bottom of my boots (yes, it does get cleaned in the mundane sense of the word). I let other people use it all the time. Need help prying that cool looking rock out of the hard packed dirt? Here, use my knife.

I first used it for creating sacred space just because it was there and then I was like “Holy SHIT”. I can only assume it’s because I use it for everything and have it with me a lot, therefore I love it.

Slowly but surely learning to spin yarn on my drop spindle, I really don’t spend as much time doing it as I should. I’ve only read and chatted with people about using a spindle for magick, some day (down the road) I’d like to give it a try. For now, I pull out my little wooden drop spindle and spin for a bit when I find the time and inclination.

Ribbon; decorative and yet sturdy enough for the job.

The ritual group’s knife now has a scabbard (mostly made to make it not poke things in the storage box). It is made of deer hide, a dollar store ribbon and a wooden button shaped like a maple leaf. Very suitable for a knife that was made ala Uncle Bucky’s Big Blue Book: hammering down a file and putting an antler handle on it. (I didn’t make the knife, it was a gift.)

Wooden spoons are useful for everything, including planting junipers in the front yard at 2am.

So, this past year and a half has seen a big change in how I perform ritual of any kind.

For the few years before I was living on a bunch of land that was really private and I was practicing almost entirely on my own. So I could play it pretty loosey goosey. Experiment and try things out. Take all bloody day if I wanted. Yell and shout and make a racket, dance around nekkid, have a bonfire, get dirty and sweaty and muddy … all that jazz. No script. I could have a bunch of different tools in my arsenal because I didn’t have far to take them.

But since moving to Ottawa it’s been a different story. I don’t have the same time and space. If I want to practice outdoors this means carting things to a park or a nature reserve or something. I have to be mindful of the neighbours.

Most importantly, I have been practicing with other people a heck of a lot more. That’s a pretty major game changer. You can only wing it so much in ritual with someone else. People kind of like to know what to expect. They also have to go home by a certain time. They also like things to make sense to them. All that jazz.

This forces me to “tighten up” my rituals. They have to be shorter, they have to have a definite structure, and they have to have a certain amount of preplanning. They have to have a certain pattern and logic, you can’t keep changing how you do ritual on your ritual group, it’s just not fair.

This is making me be much more concise and careful. To pay proper attention to what works and what isn’t necessary. Cut to the chase, tight and quick, if possible.

Not always though … sometimes, you just have to bang that $12 tambourine for hours to get results.

Large quantities of incense.

Related posts:

1. The Course of My Studies Part Two
2. Dyeing for Midsummer
3. Little Random Things

I need to work with my casting collection more. I require clients. I have been considering offering to do a few castings at the Wild Geek Hang. I’ve never done long distance castings before, that should be interesting.

I have also been looking for an additional piece, something to represent kids, children, childhood, the inner child etc … maybe a brightly colored bead?

I am also interested in trying casting into a wooden bowl and reading from the top down. But since I have a new cloth I am still working with, this will have to wait.

*

There are creeps and then there are creeps.

There are men who aren’t skilled socially, the kind of guys you have to draw firm and obvious boundaries with. Sometimes you gotta say “no” loud and clear. Usually they don’t mean harm, they are just either clueless or the kind of guys who push their luck.

I understand *intellectually* that many women find men who are “social retards” to be creepy. But honestly, I don’t get it. Is it that they can’t defend their own boundaries; can they not say “no”? Do they not know how to shield? Do they not know how to tell a man that he crossed a line?

Why is it that when I goof up socially, I am just a weird but harmless girl … but when a man makes the same goof, he must be a creep or a perv?  Why are we so threatened by the guy who talks about aliens, or boobs, or alien boobs? (I like alien boobs) Why is it that other women seem unable to stand up to them and say “knock it off” or simply “fuck off”?

Why do I get looked at weird for happily giving such a guy a hug?

I know where I stand. I know how to tell a man where to stand. It’s not a LACK of assertiveness that is my problem … Maybe that’s it.

It might also be due to the fact that I have guys like that in my family. Maybe it is because sometimes I feel like a female version of them. The person who sometimes says or does something inappropriate, well meaning, just lacking social graces. Maybe it is because I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it is simply that I adore nerds, freaks and weirdoes.

I dunno.

Flag your freak flag, if no other reason than to attract the flags of other freaks.

*nods*

*

I have written very little poetry of late.

*

I have to update the Hedge to a new version and create some new themes for it etc. I’ve been putting this off for a while now. I will have to bite the bullet.

*

We’ve been slowly working on the next episode(s) of the podcast. It’s tough though when you’re waiting on people who don’t get back to you. How many times can you email someone before you’re a bother? If someone is not interested or changes their mind, why don’t they just say so?

*

I want to go camping.

*

I really, really should finish that afghan.

I am still looking for the right yarn to finish my shawl with.

*

I haven’t played my tambourine in a while.

*

I wish more people would write articles for the Hedge. I don’t why people don’t.

Related posts:

1. Little Random Things
2. Random Encounters
3. A Few Things That Work (and other things)