Posts Tagged ‘blot’

I brought an offering to Freya tonight. Black currant pie, made from our first real crop of black currant since we planted the bushes. I sang to Her, called Her, and asked Her to be with us this coming week, let it be a week full of love. I lit a brand new candle, one only for Her.

Freya, watch over us. Grant us days of love and passion.

When I sang to Her, I caught glimpses of Ochún in my mind. Flashes of a beauty in yellow and gold, dancing by the river. I wondered if Freya and Ochún at the core are the same, only wearing different names in different cultures. I struck the thought from my mind quickly, this was not the time for such thoughts.

Freya, watch over us. Grant us days of love and passion.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like Freya and Ochún are the same. I don’t get the same… feeling, from them. If they are in fact the same, I clearly have been feeling different sides of them. Have any of you any thoughts or experiences in that question? Care to share?

For now, I will think. Ponder if I should get Ochún a candle of her own, a beautiful yellow candle of course, or if Freya’s candle is also hers.

No. Again, it doesn’t feel right. The more I think and feel, the more I believe they are not the same soul. Perhaps something closer to sisters, but not entirely the same. They feel different. I will get Ochún a candle too. I should dance for her, it has been too long since I did that. That will be next.

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Remember the spot I described in this post here, our little forest “shrine”? Turns out there is a cavity under the altar stone. Hadn’t seen that.

Last night I went out to get the wooden bowl back, that I two weeks ago put out on the altar stone with some oatmeal cookies and raspberries. I expected the bowl to be full of water (it has been raining a lot) and feared the offering in it might be all icky and moldy.

No sight of the bowl, it must have fallen off somehow. I leaned in, looked around the altar stone. No bowl. The BIGGEST wild strawberries I have ever seen, but no bowl. I knelt down and swept the grass away with my hands to get a better look. Oh, there. Hidden behind the grass there was a natural cavity reaching in underneath the great big altar stone. A mini cave. And there it was the wooden bowl. I reached inside and got it out.

The bowl was clean. No sight of the previous offering, no rain, no ick. It was dry and clean, apart from an intense smell of smoked ham.

Smoked ham. Huh. There has been no smoked ham in that bowl for months, a year maybe? And it has been cleaned many times since then. Not to mention it just spent two weeks out in the rain, with oatmeal cakes in it. Huh. I brought it in, silently held it up in front of my husband. He sniffed it. “Smoked… ham?” he guessed. Odd.

That natural cavity under the altar stone is brilliant, by the way. I am just wondering if I should let the archaeologist in me out and investigate if anyone else has put something down there before I start using it for offerings myself, or not…

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We went out for a private summer solstice blot, me and my husband. I had been thinking about a good location, a spot we can return to again and again, here on our little plot of land. There were possibilities but I hadn’t decided. My husband, who isn’t of my faith but respects it, came with me out to look. And he said, “What about those rocks up there?” He pointed out towards the wild ground just outside our land, towards the woods. “There is a spot up there that I think would be just right.”

He showed me to a large rock. It wasn’t flat, didn’t have the qualities of an altar, but it just felt right. We both stood there and looked, and both said that yes, this is right, this location.

Just as we had decided, I realized we should look at it from the other side. The ground is wild and overgrown, we could from where we stood only see a little bit. So we walked around it, and it felt as though it just clicked. There. The first rock was only one of several, there were four large rocks close to each other, reaching up to my chest at least. They stood in a slight arch, and in front of them stood a sightly lower, fifth rock. This was it.

We lit Mother’s and Father’s candles. We offered potent raspberry mead. To Father, to Mother, to any other God watching over us, and to the ancestors. For a good summer. For our family. For a child. For us to stand strong together even if no child comes.

It was beautiful. There are many words words to say and write but I believe I should leave it at that, for tonight. I wish you all a happy summer solstice, and a brilliant summer.

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