Eliza Daley ~ Wordcraft & Musing on Home & Hope
I am engaged in building a future for my kids out of this mess of a present, largely created by my parents' generation. One of the most wearing aspects of this project is not giving in to despair. Merely seeing what might be good — or even survivable — is difficult. So from time to… Continue reading Lughnasadh 2041
This painting is called Elizabeth the Corn Maiden. Of course, I had to buy it. Today is Flitch Day in England. As in “side of bacon”. I had no idea bacon had its own day. Seems appropriate that it should fall in the middle of the Dog Days. (No, I’m not fond of bacon. Nor… Continue reading Beyond Summer
St Swithin's day, if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain; St Swithin's day, if thou be fair, For forty days 'twill rain na mair. It did not rain today. It was bright and sunny all day long. However, it was airless and so humid it felt like being submerged in tepid beef… Continue reading St Swithin’s Day
It is early July. In my country, we set fire to gunpowder and other explosives wrapped in paper — which are produced almost entirely in extremely hazardous conditions outside of this country — to mimic the actual gunpowder explosions that presumably were the background for the signing of a document that declared this small group… Continue reading On the Existence of Independence
I've got a cold. Haven't had one of these for a while. I forgot how annoying mouth breathing is. In any case, the post on Independence is going to have to wait until the brain fog clears. I want it to be better than it is at the moment, but I just can't get there… Continue reading A Bit of a Wait for Friday
Paul Bunyan statue in Bangor, Maine. (Wikipedia) It’s that special day in June again. No, not that solstice thing. No, forget graduation. No, not the wedding thing. It’s Paul Bunyan Day! A day to celebrate an absolute idiot who blundered through the north woods, wearing plaid flannel, leading a cow named Babe, and wielding an… Continue reading Paul Bunyan Day
Churros are restive out there in the darkness. Should probably be concerned. Takes a lot to worry an animal with four horns. Shearing makes them irritable, but not sleepless. Something different out there bothering them. New note to the night air. What is it? Got this old saying tumbling around in my old head. Something… Continue reading Nothing But Blue Skies (Winifred Mumbles)
The eighth moon is the Strawberry Moon and, yes, strawberries are bountiful this month — the first real fruit harvest. (I don’t count that rhubarb stuff… it’s chard, not fruit.) While planting and harvesting both happen all year long, this is the month when there is a shift from predominantly planting activities to mainly harvest… Continue reading Midsummer Strawberry Moon
I’ve been a practicing pagan, of a rather ecumenical nature, since I was a teenager. I’ve been more or less open about my faith for at least 30 years. At any rate, I’ve not denied it when someone happened to guess correctly, though I’ve not initiated any such conversations. I’ve never been openly ostracized and… Continue reading Solstice
They came for me as I was grinding the last of the roasted spelt. My sisters stood by with downcast eyes. I did not know who of them believed in my innocence. I found that I was troubled by this. I would go to my death willingly, but I was unwilling to let the ravenous… Continue reading Immolation
By My Solitary Hearth 