A lot of us think about the holydays and we think about the evenings when our days let go and we really feel like we can celebrate. Yet, how many times do those holy moment really fall at night? Take the Winter Solstice for instance - the actual moment is around 5:45am on Wednesday morning. I, for one, was very happy when I found this out.
Now, I'm not a morning person but let me tell you why I'm happy about this. Wednesday is going to be a very, very busy day - we leave this week to visit family, and will be away for a bit. We have cleaning to do, packing and prepping, gifts to wrap.... the list is oh so very long. Add to this that I'm working longer hours this week to prep for the time I'll be away and at the end of the day it all adds up to the usual equation of Lots to Do and Very Little Time to Do It.
So, knowing as I do that the moment of the Solstice is a mere 15 minutes(ish) earlier than I usually wake up during the week, I now have a built in window for meditation and reflection that just had 15 minutes added to it. My morning schedule is this:
Wake up to my alarm
Lay in bed and breathe deep for a moment
Get up, stand by the window, and watch the morning
Meditate - connect and renew and prep myself for the day
Get ready for work and head out into the world.
Tonight I'm prepping my kitchen altar for ceremony. Tomorrow, my alarm will go off 15 minutes early. The coffee will be brewing (yay programmable technology) and my offering will be waiting at the altar. I'll have 15 minutes extra to greet the Solstice, to meditate and make my offerings and hold my rite.
It doesn't sound like a lot, but knowing that I have time now set aside for this in the morning before the stress of the new day starts building and delays and setbacks change my timeline for the day, in the morning after a good night sleep has released the stress of yesterday... it means that I can truly celebrate the return of the light, the beauty of the Solstice, and take that calm with me through the day.
My offerings are simple, the ceremony will be short, but I will have time to reflect on time, on light, on the Turning of the Wheel and what that means to a hedgewitch and her land base in New England.
May the Solstice bring you joy!
Monday, December 19, 2016
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
It's coming... I think the winter's coming!
I see a toe, I see a curl... I listen to Wicked a lot. ;)
It's true though, when you think about it. You see the limbs of winter before you see the body of it - you see the fingers in the frost on your car in the morning and the toes in the light snow that seems to stick around longer than it seems it should be able to. These are the small thing that herald the full body of winter, and they're beautiful to me.
You need to remember - I chose to move to New England. I chose to move to a climate that a scant year after I arrived saw record snows, that give me snow falls that covered my New Beetle whole. (not drifts, falls. yes. think about that.) I chose to move to a place where summer can be so sweltering that you escape to the beaches (of which we have many) or to ponds made famous by voracious writers. (that'd be Walden)
Of course, I say I moved here but honestly, sometimes I wonder if I was called here and if I actually had any say whatsoever in the matter.
~~
You've heard me talk a lot about landbase, and what it means to connect. I hadn't heard that word before, but I knew the feeling, and it took reading the brilliant mind of hectatedemeter for me to know what I was longing for. She's wonderful, and insightful, and you ought to be reading her if you're not already.
Lately, since the world has gone sideways in the worst sort of way, I've been connecting more and more with my landbase. I do what most kitchenwitches do - I wake up, I make coffee, I stare out the window at the slowly freezing landscape of my backyard and I meditate with the rustle of leaves and spread of the frost. I watch the ivy, now frozen still like the stone wall it climbed. I watch the Rose of Sharon as it turns to the stick bush it will remain till the snows of winter are done and it can leaf and bloom once more. I collect seeds from that bush and give them to my nieces and nephew, as my grandmother did for me.
As I leave for work in the morning I run my fingers across the evergreen, looking up into the branches to see the bird nests there and am thankful they feel safe nesting near my home. The blue jays are so fat now, and the cardinals are plump little red balls and I love them all. I think of the cooking grease I'll need to put on the bird feeders again soon to keep the squirrels at bay. I've whispered things to the dirt that I have never told a soul, and the earth has kept my secrets and let me be free of their burden.
As we head deeper into the winter, look around and smile at the little death that comes to the world. Remember the blooms and leaves on the other side of the dark months and look to the holy days to help bring your spirits light. Our next one is Yule - Burn the candles, light the night and keep them lit into the dawn, celebrate with drink and rich meals. Be near your family, blood or otherwise, and relish the feeling of them around you. Know that your light burns brighter as the days lengthen and the night recedes.
But as the days grow longer and we move into the coldest and most confining time of year, also look at this time as a rest. The earth rests, and rejuvenates, and comes forth in the spring with renewed vigor.
May it be for us all.
It's true though, when you think about it. You see the limbs of winter before you see the body of it - you see the fingers in the frost on your car in the morning and the toes in the light snow that seems to stick around longer than it seems it should be able to. These are the small thing that herald the full body of winter, and they're beautiful to me.
You need to remember - I chose to move to New England. I chose to move to a climate that a scant year after I arrived saw record snows, that give me snow falls that covered my New Beetle whole. (not drifts, falls. yes. think about that.) I chose to move to a place where summer can be so sweltering that you escape to the beaches (of which we have many) or to ponds made famous by voracious writers. (that'd be Walden)
Of course, I say I moved here but honestly, sometimes I wonder if I was called here and if I actually had any say whatsoever in the matter.
~~
You've heard me talk a lot about landbase, and what it means to connect. I hadn't heard that word before, but I knew the feeling, and it took reading the brilliant mind of hectatedemeter for me to know what I was longing for. She's wonderful, and insightful, and you ought to be reading her if you're not already.
Lately, since the world has gone sideways in the worst sort of way, I've been connecting more and more with my landbase. I do what most kitchenwitches do - I wake up, I make coffee, I stare out the window at the slowly freezing landscape of my backyard and I meditate with the rustle of leaves and spread of the frost. I watch the ivy, now frozen still like the stone wall it climbed. I watch the Rose of Sharon as it turns to the stick bush it will remain till the snows of winter are done and it can leaf and bloom once more. I collect seeds from that bush and give them to my nieces and nephew, as my grandmother did for me.
As I leave for work in the morning I run my fingers across the evergreen, looking up into the branches to see the bird nests there and am thankful they feel safe nesting near my home. The blue jays are so fat now, and the cardinals are plump little red balls and I love them all. I think of the cooking grease I'll need to put on the bird feeders again soon to keep the squirrels at bay. I've whispered things to the dirt that I have never told a soul, and the earth has kept my secrets and let me be free of their burden.
As we head deeper into the winter, look around and smile at the little death that comes to the world. Remember the blooms and leaves on the other side of the dark months and look to the holy days to help bring your spirits light. Our next one is Yule - Burn the candles, light the night and keep them lit into the dawn, celebrate with drink and rich meals. Be near your family, blood or otherwise, and relish the feeling of them around you. Know that your light burns brighter as the days lengthen and the night recedes.
But as the days grow longer and we move into the coldest and most confining time of year, also look at this time as a rest. The earth rests, and rejuvenates, and comes forth in the spring with renewed vigor.
May it be for us all.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Simple Spells
I'd say I don't know what it is about this time of year that gets my magic up, but I totally know. It's the season!
Pumpkins line my kitchen counter, apples are stacked high in a brown glazed bowl, squashes of all forms rest among the bowls and pie plates and knives. There are sides of pork and beef in my freezer waiting for the cast iron pot they'll cook slowly in, soaking in cider and spice and yams or mixed with cardamom and dried cranberries and pecans. I have very medieval views on how to prepare a piece of meat. Skewing is high on that list, as is pie crust.
~~
The glory of this season is that unlike the summer months where the last thing you want is a hot kitchen, the winter months bring the revel of the warmth that comes from running the oven all day and the scents that imparts on the whole house. Where in the spring it's all we can do to serve bright and sweet dishes full of soft colors, in the fall we serve rich, deep dishes full of savory flavors and strong contrasting color.
So here's a few tips to bring your magic into the kitchen this fall and winter....
*Keep squashes on your counter. They're a quick, savory side dish when topped with butter and garlic, or a warm, sweet side when topped with maple syrup and thyme. Additionally, squash represent the resilience of the harvest so use these when you need to up your stamina to deal with the weather. Savory for calming, sweet for happiness.
*Garlic is your friend. Whole cloves are the best way to go, and they store very, very well. Raw and straight off the ground keeps the longest but if you use it as much as I do then you'll go through it faster than it can go bad so it's not a worry. Roasted garlic is a scent we all adore - don't be scared about making this at home. Take one head of garlic and DO NOT PEEL it, cut off the top so you can clearly see a good bit of the actual clove and set it in a piece of tin foil. Be super generous with the olive oil. (hint - if you have a small brie baker that has a lid, use this instead and do two heads of garlic. The oil will collect easily and you can then jar it and store it in the fridge to have roasted garlic olive oil for ANYTHING.) Close the foil up around the clove loosely. Put it in the oven to roast for about 20 minutes at 350deg. You'll smell it when it's done - and the garlic will have started to pop out of the head. Wait for it to cool and then either spoon out or squeeze out the garlic cloves into your recipe, or a jar to store in the fridge. This really has to be refrigerated if you're not using it immediately. (I suggest adding it to mashed potatoes)
*Look up winter vegetables and use them. Carrots glazed with brown sugar, honey, butter, and ginger are excellent, easy, and a wonderful use of spices that help bring clarity of Sight. Cloudy visions? Not anymore.
*Take the down time you find on those snow days to really clean all your kitchen implements. Use salt and sage to clear out the energies built up around your kitchen and dining room, and then do the whole house. This is the time where we can use the quiet of the dark to really clear out the old of last year to make room for the new of next year.
Pumpkins line my kitchen counter, apples are stacked high in a brown glazed bowl, squashes of all forms rest among the bowls and pie plates and knives. There are sides of pork and beef in my freezer waiting for the cast iron pot they'll cook slowly in, soaking in cider and spice and yams or mixed with cardamom and dried cranberries and pecans. I have very medieval views on how to prepare a piece of meat. Skewing is high on that list, as is pie crust.
~~
The glory of this season is that unlike the summer months where the last thing you want is a hot kitchen, the winter months bring the revel of the warmth that comes from running the oven all day and the scents that imparts on the whole house. Where in the spring it's all we can do to serve bright and sweet dishes full of soft colors, in the fall we serve rich, deep dishes full of savory flavors and strong contrasting color.
So here's a few tips to bring your magic into the kitchen this fall and winter....
*Keep squashes on your counter. They're a quick, savory side dish when topped with butter and garlic, or a warm, sweet side when topped with maple syrup and thyme. Additionally, squash represent the resilience of the harvest so use these when you need to up your stamina to deal with the weather. Savory for calming, sweet for happiness.
*Garlic is your friend. Whole cloves are the best way to go, and they store very, very well. Raw and straight off the ground keeps the longest but if you use it as much as I do then you'll go through it faster than it can go bad so it's not a worry. Roasted garlic is a scent we all adore - don't be scared about making this at home. Take one head of garlic and DO NOT PEEL it, cut off the top so you can clearly see a good bit of the actual clove and set it in a piece of tin foil. Be super generous with the olive oil. (hint - if you have a small brie baker that has a lid, use this instead and do two heads of garlic. The oil will collect easily and you can then jar it and store it in the fridge to have roasted garlic olive oil for ANYTHING.) Close the foil up around the clove loosely. Put it in the oven to roast for about 20 minutes at 350deg. You'll smell it when it's done - and the garlic will have started to pop out of the head. Wait for it to cool and then either spoon out or squeeze out the garlic cloves into your recipe, or a jar to store in the fridge. This really has to be refrigerated if you're not using it immediately. (I suggest adding it to mashed potatoes)
*Look up winter vegetables and use them. Carrots glazed with brown sugar, honey, butter, and ginger are excellent, easy, and a wonderful use of spices that help bring clarity of Sight. Cloudy visions? Not anymore.
*Take the down time you find on those snow days to really clean all your kitchen implements. Use salt and sage to clear out the energies built up around your kitchen and dining room, and then do the whole house. This is the time where we can use the quiet of the dark to really clear out the old of last year to make room for the new of next year.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
What you wanted it to be, and what it actually is
It should be no surprise to my readers how tired I feel this morning. It's not just my poor sleep last night - it's the weight of this morning on my shoulders.
It's difficult to be among my coworkers who don't understand. It's difficult to keep saying "I'd rather not discuss this" over and over but I cannot discuss it, so those words now live on my lips.
I looked at my skin this morning. I looked at the life I live and saw the safety in my position. I saw the protection my outward appearance affords me in the aftermath of a decision so many of us saw going differently. I'm horrified that these factors will keep me safe while so many others are in danger. I fear for my friends and their spouses and children. I fear for my loved ones. I will not be silent - I will use the privilege afforded me to fight for those who cannot. We all have to, or we are lost.
We were all going to be so happy this morning.
~~
I cannot let myself wallow in the emotions that flood me. I'm not ignoring them, but there is too much to do to stop for any length of time. We thought we'd have an easier path ahead of us this morning and instead we have boulders pushing us backward down a path that is crumbling under our feet. We're seeing the foundations we worked so hard for rattling like Lincoln Logs as someone walks across the floor.
The more emboldened of my coworkers have started talking more openly - as the day wears on they feel more sure, more able to speak. I know this is only the beginning but I know this too - they won't be the only ones talking.
We have work to do. We have elections other than the Presidency to vote in, to get our voices heard in, to make our influence known. AND WE MUST.
One battle is lost. So many more remain to be fought. We cannot stop now.
It's difficult to be among my coworkers who don't understand. It's difficult to keep saying "I'd rather not discuss this" over and over but I cannot discuss it, so those words now live on my lips.
I looked at my skin this morning. I looked at the life I live and saw the safety in my position. I saw the protection my outward appearance affords me in the aftermath of a decision so many of us saw going differently. I'm horrified that these factors will keep me safe while so many others are in danger. I fear for my friends and their spouses and children. I fear for my loved ones. I will not be silent - I will use the privilege afforded me to fight for those who cannot. We all have to, or we are lost.
We were all going to be so happy this morning.
~~
I cannot let myself wallow in the emotions that flood me. I'm not ignoring them, but there is too much to do to stop for any length of time. We thought we'd have an easier path ahead of us this morning and instead we have boulders pushing us backward down a path that is crumbling under our feet. We're seeing the foundations we worked so hard for rattling like Lincoln Logs as someone walks across the floor.
The more emboldened of my coworkers have started talking more openly - as the day wears on they feel more sure, more able to speak. I know this is only the beginning but I know this too - they won't be the only ones talking.
We have work to do. We have elections other than the Presidency to vote in, to get our voices heard in, to make our influence known. AND WE MUST.
One battle is lost. So many more remain to be fought. We cannot stop now.
Friday, October 28, 2016
The seduction of the season
You feel it, tugging at your hem... it's not just the fallen, leafless branch on the sidewalk.
It's there, on your shoulder... no, not just the leaves in the oranges and reds of their slow deaths.
It's in the air in your lungs... and it's not just the sharp cold that underlies every movement outdoors and then scurries inside behind you to hide in the corners of your house.
It's the spirits.
You hear it. You feel it. We all do - we're witches.
~~
The blog name, Musings of a Kitchen Druid, really did come from the nickname my friends had for me. I wasn't quite a Druid and I wasn't quite a Kitchen Witch. I was somewhere in the middle. I was young in my practice and it was all perfect and new and I had NO idea what I was doing. But I could see my path and it was wonderful. It was home.
Fast forward a few years, past many successful and many, many more unsuccessful holy day rites and across a thousand late night conversations and early morning whispers... and my path was far more clear to me. It was easier to see the turning of the Wheel. I didn't need a calendar to tell me what holy day was coming. My books were references when I was tired or didn't feel like recalling it. It was so very nice. That's when I started writing this blog.
Then I was struck by lightning. Or at least it felt like that. It was a bonfire and I was standing in the middle. And when I finally came out the other side, a year and a half later, I was scorched but knew all that I didn't need was gone. It was quite liberating. I started on my path anew, and KNEW (the way you do when the clue by four hits) who I was and what I was doing. My path was now burned into my skin.
The holy days come now and I don't feel rushed by them anymore. They come and I welcome them as an old friend - you know the ones, those who can let themselves into your house, start a pot of tea and be sitting down with that box of cookies you've been saving before you're even downstairs to greet them. They're so close they're family. My path is never hidden from me these days. It's taken me some time to come to this, and in the emotional turmoil over the last year it's been harder, but as I come out the other side of all this I realize that my path is there to steady me, there to guide me. Your path is a touchstone.
My wish for you this Samhain is simple - I hope your path becomes clear to you.
Blessed Samhain!
It's there, on your shoulder... no, not just the leaves in the oranges and reds of their slow deaths.
It's in the air in your lungs... and it's not just the sharp cold that underlies every movement outdoors and then scurries inside behind you to hide in the corners of your house.
It's the spirits.
You hear it. You feel it. We all do - we're witches.
~~
The blog name, Musings of a Kitchen Druid, really did come from the nickname my friends had for me. I wasn't quite a Druid and I wasn't quite a Kitchen Witch. I was somewhere in the middle. I was young in my practice and it was all perfect and new and I had NO idea what I was doing. But I could see my path and it was wonderful. It was home.
Fast forward a few years, past many successful and many, many more unsuccessful holy day rites and across a thousand late night conversations and early morning whispers... and my path was far more clear to me. It was easier to see the turning of the Wheel. I didn't need a calendar to tell me what holy day was coming. My books were references when I was tired or didn't feel like recalling it. It was so very nice. That's when I started writing this blog.
Then I was struck by lightning. Or at least it felt like that. It was a bonfire and I was standing in the middle. And when I finally came out the other side, a year and a half later, I was scorched but knew all that I didn't need was gone. It was quite liberating. I started on my path anew, and KNEW (the way you do when the clue by four hits) who I was and what I was doing. My path was now burned into my skin.
The holy days come now and I don't feel rushed by them anymore. They come and I welcome them as an old friend - you know the ones, those who can let themselves into your house, start a pot of tea and be sitting down with that box of cookies you've been saving before you're even downstairs to greet them. They're so close they're family. My path is never hidden from me these days. It's taken me some time to come to this, and in the emotional turmoil over the last year it's been harder, but as I come out the other side of all this I realize that my path is there to steady me, there to guide me. Your path is a touchstone.
My wish for you this Samhain is simple - I hope your path becomes clear to you.
Blessed Samhain!
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
But it was supposed to be...
If anything in my life could ever have been summed up, or ever could be summed up, by one phrase... well, that'd have to be it.
My coworkers are living this today - it was supposed to be close to 80 here... "a beach day" one of the local weathermen said. They're all sad that it's not even 70 outside and very overcast. I'm not - I love overcast weather and if ever there was a time for it, it'd be now when the veil thins and we all look to the shadows for answers.
Personal tragedy came again last night too - no one is dead, but there is pain and healing that needs to happen and it will take a very long time. She's not out of the woods, and she never really will be. I pray for something that will help her heal, learn, grow. I don't know that we'll get that. I know we won't stop offering her our love and support and help.
There are a lot of things that were supposed to be. There are a lot of things that are supposed to be. None of them were or are certain. No, that's not meant to be comforting. Things like this never are.
~~~
As we spend the next few weeks looking into the dark, looking to the fading Moon, and looking into the flames of our fires, think about what you thought was supposed to happen and if it did or not. And if not, think about why. Ask you ancestors for help in deciphering the meaning there and see if there are lessons you needed to learn.
and Breathe.
My coworkers are living this today - it was supposed to be close to 80 here... "a beach day" one of the local weathermen said. They're all sad that it's not even 70 outside and very overcast. I'm not - I love overcast weather and if ever there was a time for it, it'd be now when the veil thins and we all look to the shadows for answers.
Personal tragedy came again last night too - no one is dead, but there is pain and healing that needs to happen and it will take a very long time. She's not out of the woods, and she never really will be. I pray for something that will help her heal, learn, grow. I don't know that we'll get that. I know we won't stop offering her our love and support and help.
There are a lot of things that were supposed to be. There are a lot of things that are supposed to be. None of them were or are certain. No, that's not meant to be comforting. Things like this never are.
~~~
As we spend the next few weeks looking into the dark, looking to the fading Moon, and looking into the flames of our fires, think about what you thought was supposed to happen and if it did or not. And if not, think about why. Ask you ancestors for help in deciphering the meaning there and see if there are lessons you needed to learn.
and Breathe.
Monday, October 10, 2016
The crunch of leaves and the scent of cold - Remember
My favorite season has begun. Mums are *everywhere*, the leaves are turning to their brilliant oranges and reds and yellows, pumpkin has invaded everything, the apple cider diehards are fighting the good fight for seasonal flavor dominance... it's a magical time. ;)
It is though - it's one of those points in time that I just know things are working as I draw a circle or stir the stockpot. It's also the time of year to remember a few really important things.
So, here's a list of things I remind myself of this time of year:
- no matter what I do, all the intention in the world won't work without action.
- just because I can doesn't mean I should.
- our ancestors are there to help, not to do it for us.
~~~~
It's easy this time of year to get swept up in the craziness. It's really really easy to lose sight of people being helpful and instead just see the inconvenience.
It's not always about you.
As the leaves change and the air cools and the house dries out from use of the heater remember - be helpful if you know that's what the person wants.
Take deep breaths.
Mostly, just take deep breaths and remember. That's what this time is about. Remembering.
It is though - it's one of those points in time that I just know things are working as I draw a circle or stir the stockpot. It's also the time of year to remember a few really important things.
So, here's a list of things I remind myself of this time of year:
- no matter what I do, all the intention in the world won't work without action.
- just because I can doesn't mean I should.
- our ancestors are there to help, not to do it for us.
~~~~
It's easy this time of year to get swept up in the craziness. It's really really easy to lose sight of people being helpful and instead just see the inconvenience.
It's not always about you.
As the leaves change and the air cools and the house dries out from use of the heater remember - be helpful if you know that's what the person wants.
Take deep breaths.
Mostly, just take deep breaths and remember. That's what this time is about. Remembering.
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