On Offerings

This morning, as I was making pancakes, I began to think about offerings. Every Sunday, I make pancakes for the family, and one of them goes into the offering bowl for our house-wight.

Yesterday, on G+, an atheist I have circled posted a link to an article about Richard Dawkins. It excerpted parts of a letter he had written to his (then) ten year old daughter on the importance of critical thinking, and of having evidence for all things, rather than blind belief in them. Now, normally I very intensely dislike Dawkins, as his whole approach to atheism tends to be "I'm right, and you're an idiot." But the excerpts in this article were very good, and very well written. They made me think.

So, back to where I started: Offerings. In light of teaching critical thinking skills to my offspring, why should I teach her to make offerings to a house spirit that many would argue doesn't exist? Adherance to tradition? Honestly, that's really not a good answer. Belief? I hate that word, as it has become one of the most loaded terms in our modern lexicon (but I'll save that rant for another entry).

But there are other good reasons to make offerings, whether to a house wight, or to gods, ancestors, or landwights. Reciprocity. Generosity. Thankfulness.

Reciprocity is doing something for someone who has done something for you. It should usually be in equal measure or value to what you recieved, to the best of your ability. It naturally goes hand in hand with thankfulness, because it recognizes the value of what you recieved.
These are things that can be debated in light of one's opinion of the reality of these beings (wight just means "being" or "entity", btw), but if one behaves as though they are real and have an effect on the world, then teaching this attitude of reciprocity, of thankfulness to them is good - and useful when dealing with other people. If we get in the habit of saying thank you for favours done, of sharing a drink, or giving a gift, then we increase our worth as citizens. So long as we don't become trapped in the thought that we only do this for gods/ancestors/wights and not for people, we ourselves become better people.

Generosity also reflects this. In making offerings, we should always be generous - though not so generous as to bring harm to ourselves. Don't be stingy. Share. Again, a useful attitude to cultivate in society, whether to human or other wights. Giving generously when you are able increases the chances that others will be generous with you. We don't necessarily *need* to give a pancake to our house-wight. But we do, because doing so makes it more likely that favours will be done for us, perhaps something we thought lost will be found, or perhaps we will have fewer troubles with all the little things that seem to go wrong in a house.

These actions cultivate a culture of charity, that only benefits the world as a whole. If we teach these things early, then their value is learned and ingrained, even if the child grows up deciding that theism and spirits are a lot of hooey.

Because we have gods

We're coming soon to that time, the one where we tell our daughter that the old man in the Coca Cola suit is just some guy hired by the mall to bring children in with their parents, so that the parents can figure out what their kids want for Gifting Season. Some will tell their kids that the stories about this man were lies, that he is "not real." Some that tell their kids may not be so harsh, but the kids will nevertheless walk away with that impression.

"Santa isn't real," is the message. "God/the gods aren't real." "It's all just stories."

But that's disingenuous. It sends a false message. We live in a world of gods. We live in a world where a man fell from the stars and walked away. We live in a world where another man walked upon the desolate landscape of the moon. We live in a world where every day thousands fly through the sky, some on missions martial, but most merely going from one land to another, far off. We plumb the depths of the ocean, plan visits to other worlds, create miracles every day. We create new life forms, and argue whether that's wise.
We live in a world of gods. We are those gods.

So our tales of gods become ever more fantastic. Santa originally drove a sled pulled by horses - one or two, I can't remember. Now he flies in a sleigh pulled by eight caribou. We say he covers the entire planet in the course of one night, carrying enough for children everywhere, so that he doesn't need to restock midflight.

This can't be true. It doesn't make sense. It can't be literal.

Well, no, perhaps it isn't literal. But it's true. All around the world, children recieve gifts from Santa. Therefore, it is true that Santa gives gifts to children around the world. Does it matter if those children's parents are the proxy used?

Tales of gods (and yes, I consider Santa Claus a god), are meant as much to inspire us to our own greatness. Does it matter if they are literal? Does a thunderstorm have to only be an electrical discharge during a meteorological event, or can it also be Mjollnir smashing into the face of some evil giant trying to destroy us? Because I see no giant, does that mean it was not a hammerblow?

An old man dressed in red winterwear inspires us to give generously to one another, and to care for one another during the winter storms. Frankly, he does a better job of inspiring us than the tale of a baby born in a barn in a Mediterranean desert town.

A large, middle aged fellow with red beard and hammer inspires (some of) us to be strong and stand up for what is right. A one-eyed old man teaches us to be wise, and look beyond the obvious. A young man who was nailed to a tree teaches us to be forgiving.

So we follow these inspirations. We look to the stars, and say, "Let's see what is out there." We heal people of illnesses and wounds that could never before be fixed. We talk to people on the other side of the globe as if they were our next door neighbors. We eat foods from far off lands, or make new foods. We speak in one language to a person, and they read or hear our words in their own.  The blind can be made to see, the legless to walk, the deaf to hear. We can give you a new face.

Because we have gods, and they show us that it can be done.

Isaac Bonewits

By now I'm sure you've heard - Isaac Bonewits is dead. He died Thursday morning at roughly 08:00 ET. There have been a lot of people writing of his life, several obituaries, and a lot of personal observations floating around the Web since then.

Mine falls into the last category.

I never met the man. I live on the opposite coast, and in a different country, than he did. I would like to have met him, but it didn't happen, and now never will. I was first introduced to his work maybe five years ago, when I found a copy of Real Magic in a used bookstore. I was excited, but also a bit sceptical. I picked it up, though, and began to read it (still haven't finished), and found it good.

Then a friend of mine joined ADF, and invited me to join as well. Again, I looked at it with a certain scepticism (this is not like me, not at that time. If it was druidic, I was interested in those days, and tended to jump in with both feet). There was something... different here. I couldn't quite place my finger on it but it didn't feel quite the same as other stuff I'd looked at in the past.

In the end, I joined, and have bought several other of Isaac's books. I found his writing style to be casual, friendly and laced with humour. Yet for all the ease of reading he provided, his works are incredibly informative, and more importantly, accurate. This last is something you all too often find lacking in pagan books, so it's a very refreshing thing to find. The scolarship that show in his histories, etc, is as accurate as it can be for the time it was written. He actually did the research.

So, yeah, this has left an impact. And his creation, the ADF, has come to mean so very much to me. I think of myself as a druid (ADF style) before even being a Heathen, though that's more in terms of organizational stuff, because obviously my troth with the gods is with those of my Anglo Saxon ancestors. But that's okay, because he made it a Pan Indo European organization, not just a Celtic one. His vision was to have a public pagan church organization, and that's what it is.

He has gone on, now, to the Halls of his ancestors, but to many of us, he is an Ancestor of the heart, one of the Ancient Wise. May you rest comfortably in that Hall, Isaac. Hail, and Farewell!

Pondering the Gylfagginning

Sacred Feces!

This morning, in order to facilitate my article-writing (which is going slowly, but is still going), I grabbed my Eddas to read on the bus ride in to work. So I began reading the Gylfagginning, and do you know what the first thing I noticed was? Here, let me quote:

"He saw three high-seats one above the other, and a man seated in each of them. Then he asked what names those chieftains had. The man who had taken him inside answered that the one siting on the lowest seat was a king called High One, the next was Just-as-high, and the topmost one was called Third." Jean I. Young, translator.

Do you see it? You may not. Think about the Temple at Uppsala (in Sweden...? Hmmm). Actually, the description of the stronghold he visits is similar, too...

Anyway, inside the Temple, it is described that there were three statues, each placed on high-seats. Odhinn, Freyr, and, on the highest seat, Thor.

Maybe High One, Just-as-high, and Third aren't all Odhinn, after all? Something to ponder...

A Crazy Idea...

So I was just over at FB, looking at my newsfeed in boredom, when I noticed something in the ads in the sidebar. Now, this isn't the first time I've seen this ad, in this medium or another. I've seen other ads for the same thing on TV, for instance. But it made me think. It's a crazy thought. But it might work, and be something to consider in the future.

What is the ad? It's an ad from Okanagan Spring Brewery, wherein they are offering to sponsor peoples' small events. And from the tv ads, at least, that is a pretty open definition.

What is the idea? Sponsorship... for a ritual. A High Day. They make good beer - it would make a pleasing offering to the gods, and the other Kindreds.

Hm.

Worth thinking about...

Thoughts on Sif

Most scholars seem to agree that Sif is/was a goddess of agriculture, of the harvest, and/or of the wheat. This theory stems entirely from the myth wherein Loki shaves her head, then has to get the dwarves to make new, golden hair for her. The supporting "evidence" is the fact that she is married to Thor.

This theory doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sure, there is very little that we know about her, but she does appear in two other places in the lore. One is in the Lokasenna where Loki accuses her of cheating on her husband with himself. A lot of people have put forth the idea that this is why he cut her hair off in the first place. But the other place she is mentioned is the place most often forgotten.

In the Prologue (part III) to his Edda, Snorri tells us that Thor was married to a woman named Sibyl. What does this mean? Well, a sibyl is a prophetess, a seer. What in later Norse lore became known to us as a Volva.

What does this have to do with wheat? Very little, I'm afraid.

I have seen translations of the name Sif give us the name Sib in Old English. Granted, this is only a translation, but it is acknowledged to be related to our modern word sibling, and seems to refer to the fact that her husband, Thor, is related in a stepfatherly way, to her son Ull. Not sure how that fits, but okay.

So, siblings, and prophecy. Now we're getting somewhere. Who else do we know that fits that description? Hint: starts with an 'N' and end with 'orns.' 3 sisters (sometimes called the Wyrd Sisters).

Here's another fun correllation for you: Frigga. The wife of Odhinn. No, I am not saying that the two ladies are one and the same. I hate when people try to correllate dieties down too much that way. But Frigga is considered to be the "Queen of the Norns" by some. Certainly she has a lot to do with fate and is said to know the fates of all things, though she tells none. Perhaps another one of the Wyrd Sisters? It certainly gives us the sibling link in Sif's name (incidentally, the name Frigga means 'beloved').

So to follow this up a bit, let's look at Sif's hubby, Thor. By and large (!) he's much the same as most of the other Indo-Europena sky gods, such as Jupiter, Zeus, etc. The greatest difference is that in Thor's "portfolio" he is not a chieftain or king of the gods. He's got all the rest, though - sky, thunder/storms, justice, law, protection, fertility, etc. So with this in mind, let's look to the wives of these other gods, shall we? Maybe there is something similar to Sif there?

Let's see: Zeus is married to Hera. Most godly ties to Hera, though, are made with Frigga, which makes a certain sense, as they are both the Queen goddesses of their pantheons. As such, Frigga tends to get the "motherly" and "wife" portfolios (though I suppose these might be able to be shared). Jupiter is married to Juno, I believe, though I know very little about her other than that she is also equated to Hera (but most of the Roman dieties are correllated to the Hellenic ones, so much so that most people these days don't even realize that they are in act seperate sets of gods, with often vast differences between them).

I'll continue this train of thought later, though. Feel free to add your own ideas into the comments section below.

A Prayer to the Dawn

This morning as I was headed to the bus stop to begin my hour-and-a-half journey to work, I saw the most beautiful sunrise over the mountains to the (duh!) East. The sky was clear except for some light clouds which were tinged with pink and orange. Around the mountains they were a little misty, but there were two streamers of cloud a little further out. I was inspired, and came up with this:

Hail to the Queen of the Morning
Hail to the Lady of the Dawn
With your orange and pink ribbons fluttering across the sky
As you usher and guide the sun,
Glory of Elves,
As it begins it's journey across the heavens.
Hail Beautiful Morning Lady
Hail Daughter of the Sky
Hail Eostre!

Heimdall Article

(From Gylfaginning)
XV. Then said Gangleri: "Where is the chief abode or holy place of the gods?" Hárr answered: 'That is at the Ash of Yggdrasill; there the gods must give judgment everyday." Then Gangleri asked: "What is to be said concerning that place?" Then said Jafnhárr: "The Ash is greatest of all trees and best: its limbs spread out over all the world and stand above heaven. Three roots of the tree uphold it and stand exceeding broad: one is among the Æsir; another among the Rime-Giants, in that place where aforetime was the Yawning Void; the third stands over Niflheim, and under that root is Hvergelmir, and Nídhöggr gnaws the root from below. But under that root which turns toward the Rime-Giants is Mímir's Well, wherein wisdom and understanding are stored; and he is called Mímir, who keeps the well. He is full of ancient lore, since he drinks of the well from the Gjallar-Horn. Thither came Allfather and craved one drink of the well; but he got it not until he had laid his eye in pledge. So says Völuspá:

All know I, Odin, where the eye thou hiddest,
In the wide-renowned well of Mímir;
Mímir drinks mead every morning
From Valfather's wage.
Wit ye yet, or what?

The third root of the Ash stands in heaven; and under that root is the well which is very holy, that is called the Well of Urdr; there the gods hold their tribunal. Each day the Æsir ride thither up over Bifröst, which is also called the Æsir's Bridge. These are the names of the Æsir's steeds: Sleipnir[1] is best, which Odin has; he has eight feet. The second is Gladr,[2] the third Gyllir, [3] the fourth Glenr, [4] the fifth Skeidbrimir, [5] the sixth Silfrintoppr, [6] the seventh Sinir, [7] the eighth Gisl, [8] the ninth Falhófnir, [9] the tenth. Gulltoppr, [10] the eleventh Léttfeti. [11] Baldr's horse was burnt with him; and Thor walks to the judgment, and wades those rivers which are called thus:

Körmt and Örmt and the Kerlaugs twain,
Them shall Thor wade
Every day when he goes to doom
At Ash Yggdrasill;
For the Æsir's Bridge burns all with flame,
And the holy waters howl."

[1. The Slipper.
2. Bright or Glad.
3. Golden.
4. The Starer.
5. Fleet Courser.
6 Silver-top.
7 Sinewy.
8. Beam, Ray.
9. Hairy-hoof.
10. Gold-top.
11. Light-stepper.]

XXVII. "Heimdallr is the name of one: he is called the White God. He is great and holy; nine maids, all sisters, bore him for a son. He is also called Hallinskídi[1] and Gullintanni; [2] his teeth were of gold, and his horse is called Gold-top. He dwells in the place called Himinbjörg, [3] hard by Bifröst: he is the warder of the gods, and sits there by heaven's end to guard the bridge from the Hill-Giants. He needs less sleep than a bird; he sees equally well night and day a hundred leagues from him, and hears how grass grows on the earth or wool on sheep, and everything that has a louder sound. He has that trumpet which is called Gjallar-Horn, and its blast is heard throughout all worlds. Heimdallr's sword is called Head. It is said further:

Himinbjörg 't is called, where Heimdallr, they say,
Aye has his housing;
There the gods' sentinel drinks in his snug hall
Gladly good mead.

And furthermore, he himself says in Heimdalar-galdr:

I am of nine mothers the offspring,
Of sisters nine am I the son.

[1. Ram (Cl.-Vig.).
2. Golden-teeth.
3. Heaven-fells.]

(From Skaldskaparmal)

VIII. "How should one periphrase Heimdallr? By calling him Son of Nine Mothers, or Watchman of the Gods, as already has been written; or White God, Foe of Loki, Seeker of Freyja's Necklace. A sword is called Heimdallr's Head: for it is said that he was pierced by a man's head. The tale thereof is told in Heimdalar-galdr; and ever since a head is called Heimdallr's Measure; a sword is called Man's Measure. Heimdallr is the Possessor of Gulltoppr; he is also Frequenter of Vágasker and Singasteinn, where he contended with Loki for the Necklace Brísinga-men, he is also called Vindlér. Úlfr Uggason composed a long passage in the Húsdrápa on that legend, and there it is written that they were in the form of seals. Heimdallr also is son of Odin.

LXIX. "A man's head is termed thus: [thus should it he periphrased: call it Toil or Burden of the Neck; Land of the Helm, of the Hood, and of the Brain, of the Hair and Brows, of the Scalp, of Ears, Eves, and Mouth; Sword of Heimdallr, arid it is correct to name any term for sword which one desires; and to periphrase it in terms of every one of the names of Heimdallr[2] the Head, in simple terms, is called Skull, Brain, Temple, Crown. The eyes are termed Vision or Glance, and Regard, Swift-Appraising; [they may he so periphrased as to call them Sun or Moon, Shields and Glass or Jewels or Stones of the Eyelids, of the Brows, the Lashes, or the Forehead]. The ears are called Listeners[3] or Hearing; [3]

(From Voluspa – trans by Henry Adams Bellows, [1936],)

27. I know of the horn of Heimdall, hidden
Under the high-reaching holy tree;
On it there pours from Valfather's pledge
A mighty stream: would you know yet more?

[27. Here the Volva turns from her memories of the past to a statement of some of Othin's own secrets in his eternal search for knowledge (stanzas 27-29). Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 29. The horn of Heimdall: the Gjallarhorn ("Shrieking Horn"), with which Heimdall, watchman of the gods, will summon them to the last battle. Till that time the horn is buried under Yggdrasil. Valfather's pledge: Othin's eye (the sun?), which he gave to the water-spirit Mimir (or Mim) in exchange for the latter's wisdom. It appears here and in stanza 29 as a drinking-vessel, from which Mimir drinks the magic mead, and from which he pours water on the ash Yggdrasil. Othin's sacrifice of his eye in order to gain knowledge of his final doom is one of the series of disasters leading up to the destruction of the gods. There were several differing versions of the story of Othin's relations with Mimir; another one, quite incompatible with this, appears in stanza 47. In the manuscripts I know and I see appear as "she knows" and "she sees" (cf. note on 21).]

28. Alone I sat when the Old One sought me,
The terror of gods, and gazed in mine eyes:
"What hast thou to ask? why comest thou hither?
Othin, I know where thine eye is hidden."

29. I know where Othin's eye is hidden,
Deep in the wide-famed well of Mimir;
Mead from the pledge of Othin each mom
Does Mimir drink: would you know yet more?

[28. The Hauksbok version omits all of stanzas 28-34, stanza 27 being there followed by stanzas 40 and 41. Regius indicates stanzas 28 and 29 as a single stanza. Bugge puts stanza 28 after stanza 22, as the second stanza of his reconstructed poem. The Volva here addresses Othin directly, intimating that, although he has not told her, she knows why he has come to her, and what he has already suffered in his search for knowledge regarding his doom. Her reiterated "would you know yet more?" seems to mean: "I have proved my wisdom by telling of the past and of your own secrets; is it your will that I tell likewise of the fate in store for you?" The Old One: Othin. 29. The first line, not in either manuscript, is a conjectural emendation based on Snorri's paraphrase. Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 20.]

46. Fast move the sons of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel-roads are.

47. Yggdrasil shakes, and shiver on high
The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose;
To the head of Mim does Othin give heed,
But the kinsman of Surt shall slay him soon.

[46. Regius combines the first three lines of this stanza with lines 3, 2, and I of stanza 47 as a single stanza. Line 4, not found in Regius, is introduced from the Hauksbok version, where it follows line 2 of stanza 47. The sons of Mim: the spirits of the water. On Mini (or Mimir) cf. stanza 27 and note. Gjallarhorn: the "Shrieking Horn" with which Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, calls them to the last battle.
47. In Regius lines 3, 2, and I, in that order, follow stanza 46 without separation. Line 4 is not found in Regius, but is introduced from the Hauksbok version. Yggdrasil: cf. stanza 19 and note, and Grimnismol, 29-35. The giant: Fenrir. The head of Mim: various myths were current about Mimir. This stanza refers to the story that he was sent by the gods with Hönir as a hostage to the Wanes after their war (cf. stanza 21 and note), and that the Wanes cut off his head and returned it to the gods. Othin embalmed the head, and by magic gave it the power of speech, thus making Mimir's noted wisdom always available. of course this story does not fit with that underlying the references to Mimir in stanzas 27 and 29. The kinsman of Surt: the wolf [fp. 21] Fenrir, who slays Othin in the final struggle; cf. stanza 53. Surt is the giant who rules the fire-world, Muspellsheim; cf. stanza 52.]

***
So here we're beginning to see a bit of a pattern. Heimdall is best known to the casual reader - as well as to many of the more learned scholars - as being little more than the "Watchman of the gods." The Rigsthula, or the Lay of Rig, tells a different story, as well, wherein Heimdall (under the name Rig) goes out into the world and fathers the three "castes" of humankind - the thrall, or labourer; the freeman; and the nobleman. It goes on to tell how he teaches one of the sons of the noble caste the secrets of runelore and magic, at which he comes to excel. Many scholars attribute this lay to Odhinn, however, despite the introduction clearly stating that it is Heimdall the lay is about.

Another heathen scholar I know has drawn connections between Heimdall and Man (no, not humankind. The god Man, son of Tuisto, as discussed by Tacitus in his Germania). While I tend to agree with his conclusions (sorry, I have no link for them), I do think that there's a lot more to the story. Throughout the lore there really isn't a lot about this mysterious god, nor of his cult. But obviously he was seen by the ancients as being a god of great importance, if he is the father of humankind (or at least of humanity's social structures). I think that the above quotes quite nicely illustrate some of this importance, perhaps even a heretofore unknown byname.

In short, Heimdall is Mimir. The god Odhinn goes to to gain wisdom is the same as the god who watches over Asgard. It also gives a different take on the term "sons of Mim." In the footnotes above, it tells us that the term is used to refer to the spirits of water. But if Mimir is Heimdall is Rig, then the Sons of Mim would be humankind, giving us a greater role in Ragnarok than previously thought.

The name of his horn, Gjallerhorn, is noted as translating to "Roaring Horn." Despite being stored in the Well, it is generally assumed to be called thus due to the great roaring sound it will make when sounded at the beginning of Ragnarok. But in Sumbel, the "rite of toasting" (my interpretation), one is known to use a drinking horn, and over that horn one brags of their past deeds, their families, etc. Ancestors and gods are honoured over the horn. If the 'Roaring Horn' is the horn of sumbel, this even more strongly supports the idea of Heimdall as Mimir, because it means that he has access to the wisdom of the ancestors - through the well of knowledge.

Okay, I know that my writings on this are a bit rambling, but I needed to get them out there. I'm sure I can rewrite them another time, a bit more concisely.

The Lay of Harbarth

One of my favourite poems in the Elder Edda is the Lay of Harbarth. This is the poem that describes a battle of words between Thor and Odin, wherein Thor is trying to cross a river and comes across a ferryman (Odin in disguise), who taunts Thor and refuses to give him a ride. Being a Thor's man, who doesn't hold with Woden all that much, it might seem ironic that this is a favourite. Scholars generally agree that Odin pretty much gets the better of Thor throughout the whole thing, getting Thor riled up and pissed off at the insults he's hurling. You see, basically, Odin spends the whole time bragging of his glorious deeds, the wars he's fought, the glory gained, the women wooed. Thor, on the other hand, speaks of doing a more basic job - in this case, population control of the ettins, lest they overrun the earth - a job with no real glory in it at all. He basically says to Odin, "Fuck off, I have a job to do."

I find that this typifies the attitudes towards the blue collar worker. There is rarely glory in this type of work, yet it must be done. It doesn't bring with it the prestige of the "shinier" jobs, like office work (which tends to be kind of inglorious as well), acting, etc. But there are many who are more happy doing it than they ever would be in doing those "shiny" jobs. They don't need to be lauded by all and sundry for doing their work - a job well done is enough (though it is nice to point at a building or a stage and be able to say, "I did that.").

A Ramble

Okay, so as a bit of background, I am a polytheist. Most commonly I refer to myself as either a pagan or a heathen, though I am a member of two of the largest Druid organizations in the world, as well as being the current Guildmaster for the Ritual and Lore Guild of the Heathen Freehold Society of British Columbia.

In short, I believe that the old gods are real, manifest beings, as worthy of worship today as they ever were historically. Most of the gods I choose to worship are those of my Anglo-Saxon or my Irish ancestors. The two I pay most attention to are Brigid of the Irish, and Thunor (Thor) of the Anglo-Saxon.

Last week, we went to my in-laws on Vancouver Island to celebrate Christmas with them, the same as we do every year. The journey went well, though we missed our ferry reservation going over by about seven minutes. Fortunately, the wait was short - only one sailing. On tha way back, it was similar - we missed getting on the first boat (no reservation this time) literally by one car. The car directly in front of us was the very last one to be let on that boat. But that was okay, because we got on the very next sailing.

Normally before bed, I pour out my daily offering of coffee to Brigid, stand outside with my Hammer and say good night to Seaxneat, Tiw, and Dagda Mor. Then I say good night to Woden and his wife Frigga. Lastly I say good night to Thunor, before heading inside and to bed. When I get inside, I lock the door and say a small prayer of thanks to Syn, one of Frigga's handmaidens, she who guards the door to Frigga's hall.

Last night, as I was doing my usual good nights to the gods, I decided to lay out some offerings in thanks. It had, after all, beena pretty good trip, overall. So I took out a small packet of oatmeal for Thunor, and one of those 'Icy Squares' chocolates. I love those, they're my favourite chocolates. First I lay out the chocolate, with a small word of thanks - to no one in particular - than the oatmeal, specifically for Thunor. In the back of my head, though, I could 'hear' Frigga very firmly laying claim to the chocolate. I almost laughed out loud.

My relationship with her has been a bit of an odd one. I suspect that she has a very strong interest in me, in being a patron (not a matron) goddess, but she doesn't like Brigid much. It's almost as though she's jealous. Which is funny, really, because Brigid and I aren't all that close, not the way she is with some worshippers. But she does have a very close eye on my daughter, Stardancer.

Anyway, that's my rambling story for the day. Hope you enjoyed it. :-)

A poem for the Yuletide

I originally wrote this last year in honour of the Winter Solstice. Enjoy!

The Darkest Night has come at last.
We've watched as it arrived
The darkness crawling, deepening both within and without.

But Hark!
Now the Longest Night has come
What next?

Only the growing of the Light
Brightening the World
As the Sun is reborn.

She will strengthen,
She will brighten,
And before long
She will bring with her the spring.

So take heart this Yuletide Eve.
Celebrate and enjoy the rebirth of the sun.
For as the year grows and strengthens,
May you and yours do the same