08.08.08
A little Lughnasadh
On saturday we celebrated Lughnasadh/Lammas Tide – another excursion to tenative urban paganism. We invited some friends and had a small ritual and feast together.
According to the irish/wiccan calendar, Lughnasadh is to be celebrated on or around August 1st. Technically speaking, it’s the festival of “first harvest”, and as such should be celebrated when your local area first harvests wheat or corn. Lughnasadh is a wonderful way to engage in a little pagan holiday without too much intensity. It has real, physical meaning and is accessible for even non-pagans to celebrate.
Because it is the first of three harvest festivals, the goal at this event is to eat – it is, after all, a feast. It’s also a thanksgiving to the earth and to humankind for the hard work and energy that has gone into making sustenance available for another year. Yet Lughnasadh carries an intrinsic prayer – for a good early harvest does not guarantee a good late harvest, and so with thanks comes prayer for further benefit.
We did a very light ritual and a lovely feast. We limited ourselves to local food – because we were to be celebrating the natural bounty of our earth. I asked participants to bring bread and to bring an object for the altar. In urban paganism, the altar is set as the centrepiece of the table – a lit ritual candle in the centre surrounded by special objects and then the feast foods around that. I baked a braided white bread garnished with caraway. Our guests brough a lovely apple/raisin bread from a local artisan bakery.
We started by welcoming the four directions and the five elements. We purified and readied our spirits for ritual by using a sweetgrass smudge. Then we talked about the meaning for the festival, and shared our thanks and acknowledgement for everyone’s hard work since springtime and our hopes for the future. Then we talked about our sacred objects (even the children brought things – a plastic pony and a hairbrush!). And then, we broke bread and ate it!
Then we ate and ate and ate, and talked and enjoyed ourselves. We had: blueberries, raspberries, brie, roast chicken, 2 kinds of bread, fresh local vegetables, and a peach and blueberry gallette. We had local red and white wines.
A wonderful, meaningful feast that marked the season well for us.
The next morning we awoke to the CBC telling us to go out to farmers markets and enjoy the bounty of our local farmlands. Heh… everyone was celebrating Lughnasadh that weekend, even if they didn’t know it.
04.16.06
The Golden Egg
We’re in the midst of Spring Festival – eggs are prettily displayed in baskets and on shelves, a pot of pink mums has cheered up the kitchen table, and painted ceramic bunnies peek out from amongst the houseplants. There are lemon cookies we decorated with coloured honey glaze, depicting nascent animals: Chicks, Ducklings, Bunnies, and Eggs. Yesterday morning we awoke and coloured eggs with wax and dyes. Traditional foods include sweetly spiced, fruited rolls, fresh fruit salads with yogurt, and feasts. Tonight we had prime rib, cooked with garlic and the bounty of roasted winter vegetables. A reminder of what we leave behind as we enter spring.
Feast days continue tomorrow and the following day. This is a four-day festival and then all returns back to normal. So, we are halfway through. We give each other gifts of chocolate and garden plants. Today I was given a gold garden fork and shovel. The children raced to decipher clues until baskets of summer toys and candy were uncovered. In the morning our four year old will awake to learn that three shimmering gold eggs have been hidden in the house, and a search will commence while I make pancakes.
As I painted the three eggs gold and poured glitter on them, I thought about King Midas and his beloved daughter transformed to a statue as she embraced him. And of the golden goose and all her ridiculous followers. Of the young, good daughter in Mother Holle who is blessed for her thoughtfullness by a shower of golden coins that stick to her body, and the mixed additional blessing of gold coins dropping from her mouth with every word she spoke. This in sharp contrast to her poor sisters who were rewarded for their selfishness by accursed, sticky pitch over their persons and toads that leapt from their mouths with every word they spoke. Another Grimm – a short one, of the prodigal son who comes home to eat and is surprised to see a giant toad on the table. After one more final, cruel word to his father, the son is punished. The toad leaps onto his face and sits there, forevermore, eating one of every two bites the son tries to eat.
All hail the Easter Bunny and lunar festivals.
