I actually really like the equinoxes though I know many people who struggle with them. I like the fall because, well, it’s my birthday (specifically, the 22nd), and I can’t think of a better way to spend it than ritual and feasting afterwards.
The spring, I enjoy because I love that moment of balance and quiet before the spring starts bouncing out in all due force. Minnesota is weird: some months, spring comes quickly, and if we’re lucky, it falls on a weekend. Some years, winter drags its feet about leaving (like this one, apparently: it was 35 and clear and melted snow on Thursday. Friday? 3+ inches of snow.)
Anyway, Thursday, before a busy SF con filled weekend, we did our first Sabbat ritual. Have a photo of the altar after we dyed eggs. You can see the altar here – it’s had a little photo editing done, as I am apparently incapable of pouring red wine into a cup on a white cloth without spilling some.
I’m getting more irritated than previously with two little words. You can probably guess what they are, given the time of year: Merry Christmas. It’s not that I object to holiday wishes – I don’t. But I think that wishing me a happy holiday that isn’t mine just to make conversation is, perhaps, not the greatest thing ever. I admit I’m sensitive to words: I try to choose and use them carefully.
This coming Friday, I’m celebrating Yule with friends (they throw a big party.) I’m hoping to make it up for dawn on the Saturday, before finishing my holiday shopping. On the 23rd, I’m on a plane to visit family.
My mother lives in the Boston area (my father died when I was in high school). From there, we’re going down to New Haven, to spend Christmas with my brother, sister in law, and my nieces who are 3.5 and 5.5 (and adorably cute.) I’m looking forward to it, but there are also parts of it that I’m a little nervous about.