So, I’ve done it again. Skipped the new-moon post in favour of getting the moving done and completely failed to make New Moon Pizza on top of that. (A friend of ours has just gifted us with a fancy-schmancy pizza stone, mind you, so whatever I make for Long Nights Moon – probably something involving fairly-recently-made tomato sauce, as it happens – will be baked on that little number).
We are officially and completely moved out of the old apartment – keys and (empty) laundry card handed in at the office, all the paperwork signed, all inspections passed, and so on. Though we’re not completely moved IN (all boxes emptied, everything with a place to be in) to the new place just yet.
We’re getting there.
Expecting company for this weekend is definitely lending a sense of urgency to that effort, which is a helpful thing, I don’t mind telling you.
As of yesterday evening, I’ve canned all the pumpkin butter – nine-and-a-half cups worth – and started the pear butter stewing in the crock pot. I will probably have to get myself another flat of canning jars, though I kind of wish I could get half a dozen one-cup jars for the pear butter on top of a dozen half-cup jars for the impending tomato sauce.
I still haven’t planted the bulbs, and I’ll have to get that done before the ground freezes, but I’ve been scattering wild-crafted (and “wild-crafted” – as in yoinked from people’s gone-to-seed gardens) flower seeds – common mallow, milk weed, dark pink yarrow, and queen anne’s lace – in the front yard. My hope is that they’ll take root, come spring, and I’ll have a yard full of pink and white seed-flowers plus blue and purple bulbs to enjoy. 🙂
Strictly speaking, this lunar cycle is “Ancestor Moon” – the cycle that crosses Samhain – It’s been a rough couple of weeks and I’m inclined to call it Shadow Moon this year. Missing my beloved dead, sure, but also old relationships weighing on me – the mess of my first marriage, and how he hurt me a lot, did a lot of indisputably bad things, but that I hurt him, too; the relationship with my first girlfriend where we both cause damage, even though neither of us wanted to. Also old fears bubbling to the surface (again), eating me alive (again). I feel a little bit like – as they say in Fairyland Below – an Imminant Catabasos Event is in the works for me, and I have no idea if that means that 2015 (and surrounding months) is going to be my Year of the Shadows, or if that means that the entirety of my next seven-year cycle (which starts the day after tomorrow, when I turn 35) is going to be focussed on diving into the depths and swimming, lungs burning, back to the surface with a fistfull of precious, previously-discounted muck to make myself whole again.
There will be tarot readings done on this front, you can be sure. O.O
Meliad the Birch Maiden.
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