Category Archives: Weather, Seasons, & Celebrations

The Irony of Precipitation

I was already awake when HRH’s boss called at 6.30 AM to cancel the morning’s work. Environment Canada (who evidently foretell the weather with a rock, a pair of scissors, and a piece of paper) was waving about weather radar which said it would be a miracle if the Looming Storm and its accompanying offspring Fifteen Millimetres of Rain would miss us. HRH’s boss said that he’d check in with everyone at eleven to confirm work for the rest of the day. HRH and I went out to pick up groceries. (You know, there’s no one at all in a supermarket at 8.15 AM. And all the shelves are fully stocked. And the vegetables are attractively arranged. Must remember this.)

Miracle of miracles! There were a couple of sprinkles, and that was all. When we came back at ten-thirty, there was a message from HRH’s boss on the machine. Hey, well, that storm didn’t happen, so the rest of the day is on!

I just looked outside, and it’s pouring.

This, dear readers, is irony.

I wonder how soggy HRH will be when he gets home, and when that will be.

Witches Weekly

Witches Weekly – August 02, 2004: Seasons

1. What do you like most about the summer season?

The light. I get very lethargic in winter due to the lack of sunlight. I enjoy not having to turn on an electric light in the daytime during the summer months.

2. How does weather affect your spirituality? Are you more active in the summer with pagan activities or less? Do you meditate outside or inside depending on weather?

The weather doesn’t affect my spirituality or the frequency of my rituals at all. Sure, we have a few bbqs outdoors, and we do a couple of outdoor rituals, but I wouldn’t say it deeply affects my spirituality; other than the basic fact that my spirituality is seasonally-based, of course. I meditate all over the place in any season, whenever needed.

3. What’s your favorite summer ritual? (Lughnasadh, Midsummer, whatever you celebrate)

Lughnassadh! Fresh corn, home-made bread… well, see the previous entry. I tend to forget about midsummer, actually. (Although I’m likely to have it eternally emblazoned upon my mind after this summer’s Star Wars ritual, where Darth Vader cut Obi-Wan down, ostensibly to become the reigning king… but we all know that the Oak King has become More Powerful Than You Can Possibly Imagine and will return in a different form come Yule.)

I have a stronger connection with the harvest festivals than with Midsummer. And yet, Yule is an essential part of the wheel for me. I also tend to forget Ostara, but the Autumn Equinox/Harvest Home is firmly entrenched in my mind both as a major harvest festival, and as my wedding anniversary.

I know others tend to forget Ostara and Lughnassadh because they don’t have much of a connection to them. I try to remember Ostara as the Vernal Equinox, where I say farewell to winter with much joy. When I have children, I have decided that Ostara will also be a Maiden festival (or Youth festival, depending on the sex of the children!). When I was a child, I saw that there was a Mothers’ Day, a Fathers’ Day, and even a Grandparents’ Day. “When is Kids’ Day?” I asked my mother. “Every day is Kids’ Day,” she told me, which, as an adult, I now completely understand. At the time, though, it nettled me. Making Ostara an official Kids’ Day works with the themes of youth and potential. Lughnassadh, as I’ve said, I made a celebration of corn and wheat, two of my favourite foods, so I never forget it.

Lughnassadh

Oh, hey; and blessed Lughnassadh. (I forgot to say “white rabbits” this morning, it being the first of the month, but I didn’t forget Lughnassadh!)

Go eat fresh, sweet corn on the cob. That’s how we celebrate. That, and baking fresh bread. Mmm… corn on the cob, dripping with butter and salt and pepper… warm bread …

No! No! Must finish editing manuscript!

Taking a Break

After the thunderstorms and torrential downpour yesterday, when I was afraid to turn on the computer, I’m tying up the revision of the second half of the manuscript today. I’m being good to myself. Usually I plough onwards, eyes glazed, saying, “I’ll just finish this chapter, I’ll just finish this chapter.” Today, I’m taking a break when I catch myself saying it. I seem to be in much better humour for it.

Last night HRH and I joined Elim, our tradition’s healing nexus, for a healing ritual, and damn, but it was good to play with experienced people. I love each and every one of my students, but it’s refreshing to do something without being an example or keeping an eye on others while we do it. I’d rather not have had to do the ritual at all, of course, but the clan was asked to do healing work for a young lad of six who has an inoperable brain tumour. I’ll gladly act as a channel for something like that.

The gussets didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. I dyed another dress instead, which worked better than I was told it would. So there.

Herbal Refresher

Honestly, apart from the cool bath before bed, one of the only things that keeps me sane in the summer is dampening a cotton ball with rose water and wiping my face, arms, and neck with it (especially the back of the neck). Standing in front of the fan directly afterwards makes it even better. Rose water can be found in most specialty and cultural groceries; the little place around the corner from me sells a good-sized bottle for under five dollars. I use it as an offering as well, and often add a splash to my altar water. Some day I’ll pour three bottles into my bathwater and soak in my big claw-foot tub, but I haven’t been that brave yet.

Unless you hate the smell of roses (like my friend Raven, for example), you’ll likely find that this is a remarkably easy way to cool off and relax at the same time. And if you do dislike roses, you poor person, then there’s always orange water you can use instead.

Musical Ephemerae

I finished my new Music page of the site last night. I was rather surprised to discover that I’ve only been with the orchestra for three seasons, not four, and I’m rather impressed at the amount of repertoire I’ve acquired since joining them.

Rumour has it that my goddaughter is currently enthralled with celli. I must get the viola fixed so that she can hold it like a cello and mess about with it.

And the Not-Music-Related part of the post:

Note: a cool bath before bed brings the body temperature down, and the world doesn’t seem as humid and infernal as it actually is. I had a wonderful night’s sleep. Although swinging my legs over the edge of the bed in the morning only to discover that my feet no longer reach the floor is still slightly disconcerting. It will fade in time.

Spoiled

I’m currently craving fresh bread, balsamic vinegar, and that lovely Italian olive oil my mum hand-imported for me from Tuscany. Thank all the gods that HRH left me his keys today so that I can go out for the vinegar and the bread, otherwise there would be a very nasty Autumn waiting for him when he got home…

See what happens? I go home for twelve days, and my food standards have shot way the hey above what I normally eat. Ruined, I tell you — ruined. Although the ten sliced yellow and orange peppers from the farmers’ market (eighty cents each!) currently freezing on baking sheets in my freezer, along with the raspberries, will go a long way towards soothing my gastronomic snobbery in the coming days.