Memories Over the Years

   Josh P.

Sol-Monath
Submitted by: Avril H.

As I have mentioned before, I am a Heathen, following the Anglo-Saxon faith. In some ways we Heathens are similar to the Scandinavians, but in others we differ. Many of our gods evolved from the same original deity - we follow Woden, they honour Odin, We worship Tir not their Tyr, and our Thunderer is Thunor not Thor. However our supreme deities are the goddesses: Harvest Queen Nerthus, Eostre of the Dawn, and Winter Hred. These are the rulers of our pantheon. And these are the older deities, the ones from before the Scandinavian influences, from the time of women not warriors. Mind you, Nerthus is in all likelihood a merger of what was once a male/female pairing of deities - similar to Osiris and Isis, Zeus and Hera, or Odin and Frigga. I find it very interesting that it is the female gender that has been preserved, despite the masculine name and "virility" overtones.

So, challenged by the newer gods, our goddesses held their own and absorbed the males into the pantheon as consorts and sons. So for us it is the festivals of the goddesses that order our year. In Sol-Monath (February) it is Nerthus that we honour. We waken her from her slumber, ploughing the muddy fields and turning the earth so that the pale sunlight might touch and warm it. We place fresh baked loaves in the furrows as offerings to her...and also a reminder of the bounty she has given us before. The bounty we hope to see once more.

I don't do much more beyond holding a small rite where I take small poppy-seed cakes out to the local fields and share them with Nerthus and her creatures. It's predominantly the birds that enjoy them, but I do bury a small portion. For me it is a way to remind myself that everything that feeds me is dependant upon the earth and it's health. I honour Nerthus as the one who represents all that.

Sol-Monath is an interesting month. We know its name from Bede, the infamous Christian monk of medieval fame. He claimed that this was the "cake month", and that sol meant cake. In reality, sol is an Anglo-Saxon word for mud. Quite simply, Sol-Monath is Mud-Month - an apt description of England in February. Personally I think the reason he translated it thus was because he saw Heathens leaving offerings in the fields and mixed this up with the old name for the month.

I like the association with mud - sticky, mucky, thick and cold - this is what Sol-Monath is, and I think it is important to remember this. While we are trying to awaken the earth, we should also be awakening ourselves. Nerthus does not spring forth, blooming and green, all of a sudden. She slumbers a bit more, lets a few tendrils creep forth, tosses and turns, and eventually opens her eyes. Winter has not released its grip on her yet - and not on us either. So as we waken from our winter slumber, let it be gently. Crumpets and tea in bed, warm snuggly woolens, hot chocolates by the fire.

Poppy Seed Cake

• 3/4 cup poppy seeds
• 3/4 cup milk
• 3/4 cup butter
• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla essence
• 2 cups sifted flour
• 2 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 4 egg whites

Icing

• 1/2 cup plain icing made from icing sugar and water, fairly stiff
• 1-3 tsp finely grated lemon rind

1. Start by pouring boiling water over the poppy seeds and then drain them thoroughly. You will need a very fine sieve as the seeds are so small. Place the seeds in a small bowl and add the milk. Let them sit (refrigerated) overnight.
2. Cream the butter and add the sugar. Beat until pale in colour. Add the vanilla and the milk with poppy seeds and beat well. Sift the dry ingredients a few times to aerate and then slowly stir into the batter, mixing thoroughly. Whisk the egg whites until stiff and fold into the batter.
3. Spoon mixture into a deep 9-inch cake pan and bake in a moderate oven (190 degrees C/375 degrees F) for half an hour. Insert a skewer to test - bake a little longer if necessary. Cool on a cake rake and then ice with lemon icing.

   

   

Rune Bread
Submitted by: Crystal

Late February is the time we celebrate Odin's discovery of the runes and the subsequent gift to humanity of their wisdom and magic. It is a time to celebrate the inner mind and its powers, whether mystical or mundane. Through sacrifice and application we can achieve great things as Odin showed us when he sacrificed himself and his eye to gain knowledge of the runes. They are a tool in personal transformation and developing the Will, as well as being of use in acts of healing and magic.

Each February I bake Rune Bread - three loaves, each inscribed with an Aett. When the Kindred sits to table, we take turns naming the various runes and speaking about how they are influential in our lives. For those of us undergoing trials this can be a very cathartic experience as we share the difficulties and challenges the runes have brought to the fore.

Then we break bread - each person receives the rune he or she spoke of and then gifts it to the person to the right. This isn't a traditional Nordic activity, I should point out, but something left over from my childhood and our Christmas pudding. We have adapted it as a way to symbolise how we share each other's burdens and our own good fortune. It is this that more than anything makes us Kindred.

When baking the bread I include in each loaf a small pottery tile, rune sized and shaped. These are left blank. The people who find these tiles inscribe them with the rune marked upon their portion of bread and exchange an oath with the one who gifted them. For the coming year each pair are bound to each other as foster-kin. The strength of one will support the other. The joy of one will gladded the other. And the pains and trials of one will be shared and lessened by the other.

• 1 cup milk
• 1 cup water
• 1/4 cup butter
• 4-5 cups plain flour
• 3 tbsp sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 pkgs active dry yeast

1. Place the milk, water, and butter in a small saucepan and heat until the liquid is very warm to the touch. The butter doesn't have to be fully melted, and the liquid can't be so hot that you can't touch it - otherwise it will kill the yeast.
2. Combine 3 cups of flour and remaining dry ingredients and then stir thoroughly. Gradually add the warm milk and mix until well blended. Add the remaining flour in 1/2 cup increments, mixing thoroughly, until you have a nice firm dough and a relatively clean bowl. Turn out and knead lightly.
3. Place dough in a greased bowl and set in a warm location to rise for 20 minutes. Turn out and divide into 3 portions and set back to rise another 20-30 minutes before baking. Place loaves in well-greased loaf tins and mark the 8 runes of each Aett. Brush with beaten egg white and then bake at 220 degrees C for 30-45 minutes until golden brown and hollow-sounding (a cooked loaf will sound hollow if the crust is tapped with a knuckle).




   

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Dollies
Submitted by: Wiccan Girrrl

Making Bridget dollies is a traditional practice for Imbolc that many Wiccans engage in. A few years ago I discovered that in some Irish villages this tradition is not only still current, but much more than the simple crafting of a corn dolly each year.

The dollies represent feminine power in all its aspects. Each year a new dolly is made and blessed. She is then introduced to her mother, and her grandmothers. All the past dollies are brought out and arrayed within the home each spring.

This idea of making symbols that represent women throughout their lives, symbols that are kept and honored year after year as they age, revered as symbols of power and wisdom, really appealed to me.

So this is my tradition. Each February I go to the market and seek inspiration - corn husks for a body? Maybe fresh grasses from the flower stall. Whatever I find I take home, soak and weave into this year's dolly. I spend the time thinking about how I have grown and changed over the last year since I wove her mother.

This is a tradition I hope to pass down to my children - for now, though, it's just me. And my dollies - all 4 of them so far.