Haunting Bunting

We always put decorations up for Samhain.
     We have collected quite a variety of  bits and pieces over the years, and inevitably some of them are getting a little past their best.
     One of our main decorations are some orange and black paper chains, although they are rather faded now and have the occasional tear - well they must be 30 years old.... But I have not seen anything to replace them to my satisfaction in the shops. Many of the decorations these days seem to be cartoony or cute and I wanted something a bit more ..... I dunno really.
     Anyway, I had an idea. I could make some special Samhain/Halloween bunting!
     But first of all we needed some suitable fabric. So off we went to our local Boyes store, which is a department store selling everything from discount clothes to kitchen ware and wallpaper, to craft supplies, fabric and wool!
     I love looking at all the bolts of fabric on the shelves, there is so much to choose from. And we found four different coloured netting fabrics printed with spiders webs, stars and moons and pumpkins, just right for this project. So we bought a metre of each and carried them home in triumph. - I may also have bought some wool ....
       The first step was cutting out the bunting shapes. I didn't want plain triangles, I wanted them to have spooky, wiggly edges. I also wanted the shapes to be fairly large, so I needed to make sure I got as many as I could out of each metre of fabric.
   I did this by cutting the shapes alternately from one side of the fabric to the other, so they made interlocking wavy triangles. Also I couldn't figure out how many I would need for a string of bunting, so I made as many as I could from each piece.

As you can see the concept of 'triangular' is rather a loose one, but you can see how the shapes fit together, the top of one becoming the bottom of the next.
      Once I'd got them all cut out, I sewed across the top of each to make a channel we could thread some cord through. And on Sunday morning, Graham and I sat and threaded them onto long cords, with a knot between each piece to help keep them spaced out.
     It turned out I had made loads too many - there were certainly well over a hundred in total. It took me a few hours sewing away with my ancient hand sewing machine - I have tried electric machines, but they go too fast for me, and my old Singer machine can sew anything from silk to leather, so it suits me.

So here are the finished strings of bunting, all hung up in the living room.
     I have actually got some shapes left over, so I could make another couple of strings if I want to.

     It will soon be Samhain!

A Country Halloween Remembered

Here is an extract from one of the articles in the Samhain issue of the Raven Newsletter, I hope you enjoy it:

Halloween has always been my favourite time of year. I can remember looking forward to this magical night from being a very young child.
     The idea that Witches might be out and about was never scary to me. I never found the wickedest of Witches in any way frightening. I remember watching the Disney film 'Snow White' as a child and finding the wicked stepmother Witch a fascinating creature. Seeing her brewing potions, speaking to a magic mirror and shape-shifting to alter her appearance, was wonderful, and merely made me eager to find out how to do those things for myself.
     The idea of ghosts and spirits being free to roam was exciting and gave me a delicious shivery feeling. I read ghost stories and folk tales from a very young age, and my mother was also a fund of folklore, spells and invocations (although she would not have considered them as such).
     I longed to find a great black dog, with eyes the size of saucers accompanying me along the dark country roads. Black Shuck was welcome any time.
     When I was young there was no 'Trick or Treat'ing. That American import did not arrive for many years.
     There was also no street lighting in most villages, it was found only in built up areas. So the walk home from school in Winter, and sometimes to school in the mornings, was done in the dark. The only light was from behind the drawn curtains of the houses I walked past, or from the windows of the two village shops and the Red Lion pub. It was a quiet walk home too, apart from the odd passing car.
     We saw the Moon every night, so we didn't have to wonder what the phase of the Moon was. And if you were ever unsure, then every calendar and pocket diary told you the Full, Half and New Moons.
     My mum would always remind us when the Moon was New, to go outside and turn our money over, 'And mind you don't see the Moon through glass!' she would warn us, so that we kept our eyes to the ground until we were safely outside.
     At Halloween one year I decided I wanted to make a lantern, but pumpkins were unknown in our part of the country. The only option was a swede. Having made many pumpkin lanterns since, I can tell you there is a whole heap of difference cutting the lid off a pumpkin and scooping the inside out, and trying to do the same thing to a swede!
     I struggled for hours to make any kind of impression. I had to use a knife - I bent a spoon trying with that. Eventually I ended up with a sort of depression in the top of the swede, and my mother gave me a candle to stick in it. It looked nothing like I had imagined, and nothing like the pictures of pumpkin lanterns. I hadn't managed to get enough of the inside out to be able to make any sort of a face for the candle light to shine out of. But at least I felt I had made the effort.

Ghostly Encounters

     Last evening I was sitting at one end of our sofa, with China our rough collie asleep at the other end and Graham in his usual position on the floor, watching TV.
     From upstairs came a very familiar 'thud' sound. The sound of a dog dropping off the spare bed and onto the floor. There was a pause and no further sounds, although having heard the 'thud', I was wondering how long it would take the dog to get downstairs and into the living room.
     Right on cue, the living room door creaked open. I was watching and instinctively leant forward to see the dog as it entered the room.
     Of course, there was nothing to see.
     But here we are, heading swiftly towards Samhain/Halloween, the time when spirits return to visit those they love. Plus it is now three months gone since Maeve died, and I've found that when a loved one dies you often get a brief visit just after death and/or then hear nothing until after three months have passed.
     If you have read my book 'Journeys to the Summerland' you will know that I usually encounter the dead in dreams or astral journeys to their realms, but I have also had experiences in this world too. Immediately after my dad died, I heard his voice comforting me, as any parent would, 'Don't cry, it's alright.'
     And our Yorkshire Terrier, Snag, settled himself in front of the fire and snored.
     Snag was quite an active member of the household for a while, one visitor reporting that when they tried to put their elbow on the sofa arm, they were warned off with a growl - that was Snag's favourite perch.
     I know that many bereaved people long for some sort of contact or message from their loved ones, and they may feel disappointed or bereft when there is no instant connection.
     From personal experience I would say: 'Give it time.'
     As you might imagine, when someone dies, the spirit has a lot of adjustments to make, including getting used to the idea that they are dead, and in many cases coming to terms with the fact that even without a body, life goes on.
     This is a generalisation, but something I have noticed time and again in my own and other people's experiences: it usually takes 3-6 months for the spirit to get through its own acclimatisation, enough for them to decide to pop back and see how their loved ones are faring.
     So coming up to Samhain I am expecting that we will get other visitations from various friends, relatives and pets.
     And I am looking forward to them all.


'Journeys to the Summerland' by Chris Sempers £4.50 plus p&p available from Raven

A Ritual for Samhain

No. 7 in my series on real Folk Witchery.

The old Celtic name for Halloween is Samhain (pronounced Sow-in), this festival was so important to our Pagan ancestors that the christians were obliged to take it over and rename it All Hallows Eve which shortened to Halloween.
     First I will just say that this festival is a season rather than a single day as so its celebration can be timed either to the date, 31st October, to the nearest Full Moon (known as the Hunter's Moon and this year on the 6th of November) or to Old Halloween 11th November, or any day between new and old Halloween.
     Also of all the festivals, if you can hold it out of doors, it does add to the magic and mystery of the occasion. And if you can safely make a fire of 13 sacred woods, this will be the centre piece of your celebration.
     If you are holding your ritual indoors then try to make a special incense using shavings of 13 different varieties of wood. You may be surprised how many different sorts of trees and shrubs there are.
     You will also need a sprig of rosemary (available at most supermarkets) a small glass of wine, cold tea or fruit juice, and some good quality biscuits. These can be made by you or bought, but make sure there are enough for everyone present to have one, and one left over.
     I shall write this ritual as if it will be just you alone inside doing it, but feel free to adapt, add or take out bits to suit your needs or beliefs.

     First cast your circle and have some of your special incense burning. Take your time, be thorough, this is not a race.
     Consecrate salt and water.
     Now while facing towards the North, hold your arms out and up so that they curve like the curve of the crescent moon (this is the standard pose for invoking any deity or spirit in a Witch's circle) and say:

"Boreas, guardian of the Northern gates, 

open the way for the Lord and Lady of Witchdom to enter this circle 

and be with me at the Holy rite of Samhain."

     Now wait quietly and imagine your God and Goddess coming towards you from the North. If you have names for these deities, you can use them in the invocation.
     You may feel the temperature rise at this point.
     Now take up the consecrated water and dip your index finger into it, and use this to draw a five point star in the middle of your forehead. You can do this also to anyone else present and as you do so say:

"I bless [magical name] in the names of the Lord and Lady, Blessed Be!"

     It is now traditional to do some magic, a spell or divination. When that is complete say:

"And now it is the time to welcome and remember the dead."

     Dip the rosemary in the consecrated water and use this to sprinkle around your circle and say:

"May this place be welcoming to the spirits of Witchdom, 

and to those who have gone before."

     Break off a few leaves of rosemary and drop them into your incense burner and say:

"I remember [name(s)] merry meet, merry part and merry meet again!"

     Next we are going to bless your cakes and wine. For this part you can use either your Athame, wand or the index and middle fingers of your strongest hand. Point at the plate of biscuits and say:

"I conjure thee, O Meal, thou who art indeed our body,

 for without thee we could not live.

Thou who first was seed and grew in the body of the Earth Goddess, 

growing tall and strong and yet were cut down in thy prime, 

dried and ground so that through your sacrifice we could live and flourish. 

Blessings be upon thee, and upon all who partake of thee. Blessed Be!"

Now point at your goblet of drink in the same way and say:

"I conjure thee, O Wine, thou who art indeed the blood of the Goddess, 

drawn forth from the dark earth and spreading through the fruits and vines. 

As we drink of thee we remember again the old ways and the ancient rites. 

Blessings be upon thee and upon all who partake of thee. Blessed Be!"

     And now you should sit in your circle and enjoy the atmosphere, eat a biscuit and drink some of the wine or fruit juice. Remember to save some of each as these will be an offering for you to take outside after the rite, leave it under a tree or bush as an offering to the spirits.

    When you are ready to end your ritual, go to your altar, face north and stand again with your arms outstretched like the horns of the moon, and say:

"Lord and Lady and all the spirits of Witchdom, 

those who have gone before and those who are yet to be, 

I salute you all in love and friendship 

and thank you for attending my Samhain rite. 

Stay if you will until dawn lights the sky, 

and then return to your proper place in peace. 

So shall it be."

     You can now leave your circle and take the offerings outside.

   

For lots more information on Samhain and folk magical traditions surrounding Samhain and Halloween see:
A Folk Witchery Book of Halloween by Chris Sempers and Graham Raven £3.95
Lesson 1 Raven Wicca Course (which includes the festival of Samhain) £2.95
The conjurations used for the cakes and wine are based on some from the book Aradia or the Gospel of the Witches by C G Leland, edited by C P Sempers £4.95
all available from Raven, 17 Melton Fields, Brickyard Lane, North Ferriby, East Yorkshire HU14 3HE

The Witches Cauldron

I am currently working on The Folk Witchery Book of Halloween which should be out by the end of the month. The book will be full of all sorts to do with Halloween from what Witches look like, to spells and party games and even a special potion for those who would like to visit the land of Fairy. To whet your appetite here is an extract from the book. I hope you like it:

The oldest form of cooking is to drop some raw meat into a fire and let it burn for a while. A step up from that is suspending the meat over a fire so you avoid having to eat ashes with your meal.

However if you want to heat anything liquid, or you want to catch those lovely meat juices which are dripping into the fire, you will need something to catch them in. You will need some sort of cooking pot.

Over the millennia many ingenious solutions have been found to this problem, from pots made of closely woven basketwork, to clay and finally metal pots. The general household cooking pot for several thousand years in Britain and Europe was the cauldron.

The cauldron is a round bottomed cooking pot, usually with three small legs and either a lip or some lugs so that is could be suspended over the fire.

It was never empty and was always over the fire. It was used to make a never-ending stew (the French name for a casserole is still 'pot au feu' - pot over the fire) just keep adding liquid and ingredients, eat some, add more liquid and ingredients to top it up again.

It was used to prepare potions and tisanes, to boil your porridge, to create the wort for brewing, to dye wool and cloth.

The contents of the cauldron were also mysterious. No one knew what was in the ever boiling cauldron, just that sometimes the results were delicious, and sometimes they were poisonous.

The most experienced cauldron user would be an old woman, who may have a child helping her to stir the cauldron and make sure nothing burned.

So here we see Cerridwen with her magical cauldron full of a special potion that had to be brewed for a year and a day. She has a small boy, Gwion, assisting her. He is stirring the cauldron while she gets on with other work.

The time is nearly up. The potion is nearly ready, when the child is distracted, his stirring stick slips and the boiling potion splashes his finger.

Alarmed and hurt, he does what every small child does in that situation, he stuffs his finger into his mouth to suck it better. And when he does that, he sucks in the three magical drops of the potion. These are the drops that Cerridwen has been waiting for, for a year and a day.

And suddenly the boy can understand the language of animals, he knows the magic of the shape-shifter and he gains the wisdom that Cerridwen was brewing to turn her own son, the lumpen, ugly and stupid Avagdu into the greatest and wisest magician on earth.

And he knows that when Cerridwen finds out what has happened, she will kill him.

So he runs as fast and as far as he can.

But Cerridwen has returned. She sees the abandoned cauldron and sniffs it cautiously, then screams in rage and frustration. For all that is left in the cauldron is a seething mass of poison.

Gwion hears the scream and shape-shifts into the swiftest hare, but Cerridwen is a greyhound, hunting him down. He leaps into a stream and becomes a salmon streaking through the water, but the otter who is Cerridwen is catching him up.

Desperately he leaps into the air and becomes a dove, but Cerridwen is ready and leaps after him in the shape of a hawk. Then just as she is about to seize him with her sharp talons, Gwion sees below him a heap of shining, golden grain. Thousands upon thousands of tiny grains all alike and he falls gratefully into the heap, losing himself amongst the myriad.

But Cerridwen is not giving up. She is become a hen, pecking here and there amongst the grain, seeking, seeking......  and finding!

In anger and triumph she swallows the grain and Gwion is lost forever.

Or is he? For nine months later Cerridwen gives birth to a beautiful baby boy, Taliesin, the 'Shining Brow' who becomes the greatest, and most magical, of all the Welsh bards.