Lessons of the week

Busy, busy, busy … tired, tired tired.

Talk about busy!  I barely seem to have had time to catch my breath, or that’s how it seems.  And when I have I’ve just fallen asleep.  I seem to have spun from bed to work to home to class or talk and home to bed again.  Add to that a very upset tummy last night, and  waking at stupid o’clock most nights and not able to get back to sleep unless I take a little guided meditation time.  No wonder I feel shattered this morning.

Lesson is that I need to learn to manage my time better in the future – not to overbook myself with  classes and talks and to make sure I come home in time to spend time unwinding and relaxing before bed.

Unlearning what has been learned.

The car is still out of action, and will be until after pay-day at the end of the month.  I am hoping it will be fixed relatively easily and cheaply too, though with a SmartCar cheap isn’t often the word used to describe parts nor jobs easy.  But I love my SmartiePants very much, even when, as at the moment, she is just ‘pants’!

Not having a car really clips my wings, in many ways, but it’s also making me ask others for help – something that does not come easily to my sheer bloody-mindedly independent nature, something I learned to be early on in life as the people you count on in life at a young age such as parents and siblings just didn’t want to know unless it was to make yet more fun of me.

I am learning to unlearn the lessons of my past, however, little by little.  It’s surprised me how people are willing to help me.  And the realisation is that people do just as I do for others, except that I don’t ask for help or expect help nor do I believe that I deserve their help.  Or that used to be so.  As a child I learned not to bother asking for help because those around me as a child were unwilling to help (unless it gave them glory by doing so), and I’ve never unlearned that lesson so that I no longer assume that others are like my family of blood were as I grew up.

Mind you, help has been offered even when it’s not directly sought.  For instance, I have a talk to do next week in the Aberdare area.  Getting there by public transport is not a problem, but getting home again is.  I phoned the people who organised this evening, explaining about my poorly SmartiePants and they just told me not to worry, they’d come and get me, from home too, and I wasn’t even to think about getting partway there by train.  Now, I’d’ve offered to do that for someone, but just never expect others to do that for me … lessons to be learned here methinks.

Another example of helped unlooked for yet given was when I was telling my friend who I’m sharing travel with to and from work until SmartiePants is fixed about my worry about getting to my weekly appointment on a Friday and to school in time for my first lesson of the day.  She asked me about the time of my appointment and suggested that I go with her to work then take her car to get to the appointment and back and just replace the petrol I’ve used in doing so.  How kind of her.

Bit by bit, I’m learning about accepting help and letting others into my life.

Arty stuff

Nothing new this week, not really.  But I do have a ‘commission’ to do for a friend this week.  They’re making jams and chutneys like crazy with the bounty of nature and they plan to sell their excess.  They loved my ‘Harvest Moon’ painting of last week, and have asked if I’d design labels for their jars in a similar style…and I have ideas already what to do, so long as they will fit in the dimensions I’ve been given, as well as the words they want on the label and space for the contents of the jar.

And that brought to mind the memories I had last week of writing labels for my fathers home-made wine and beer.  Funny coincidences, synchronicities

Harvest Moon

The Harvest Moon is the Full Moon closest, either before or after, the Autumnal Equinox.  This year, there is a Full Moon on the day of the Equinox, 23rd September 2010.

All full moons rise around the time of sunset. However, although in general the moon rises about 50 minutes later each day, as it moves in orbit around Earth, the Harvest Moon and Hunter’s Moon are special, because around the time of these full moons, the time difference between moonrise on successive evenings is shorter than usual which means that the moon rises approximately 30 minutes later, from one night to the next, as seen from about 40 degrees N. or S. latitude, for several evenings around the full Hunter’s or Harvest Moons. Thus there is no long period of darkness between sunset and moonrise around the time following these full moons. In times past this feature of these autumn moons was said to help farmers working to bring in their crops (or, in the case of the Hunter’s Moon, hunters tracking their prey). They could continue being productive by moonlight even after the sun had set. Hence the name Harvest Moon. The reason for the shorter-than-usual rising time between successive moonrises around the time of the Harvest and Hunter’s Moon is that the ecliptic—the plane of Earth’s orbit around the sun—makes a narrow angle with respect to the horizon in the evening in autumn.

Often, the Harvest Moon seems to be bigger or brighter or more colorful than other full moons. These effects are related to the seasonal tilt of the earth. The warm color of the moon shortly after it rises is caused by light from the moon passing through a greater amount of atmospheric particles than when the moon is overhead. The atmosphere scatters the bluish component of moonlight (which is really reflected white light from the sun), but allows the reddish component of the light to travel a straighter path to one’s eyes. Hence all celestial bodies look reddish when they are low in the sky.

The apparent larger size is because the brain perceives a low-hanging moon to be larger than one that’s high in the sky. This is known as a Moon Illusion and it can be seen with any full moon. It can also be seen with constellations; in other words, a constellation viewed low in the sky will appear bigger than when it is high in the sky. [1]

Of course, I couldn’t leave this little bit of research without Neil Young singing ‘Harvest Moon’, could I?

  1. Wikipedia

Harvest customs

Harvest Wheat (c) Angela Porter 2010

Pre-amblings

This is no way a definitive account!  I wrote/collated the main body of it last year when I was due to give a talk at a ‘harvest supper’ in a church, and I thought it would be appropriate to give a little of the history and customs of Harvest, particularly in Wales.  I’m not quite sure how the talk was received, as it certainly wasn’t the usual ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ or ‘Silver Birch’ that they are used to.  I am, if nothing else, more than a tad anarchic when it comes to my choice of ‘readings’ under such circumstances!

Harvest Customs

People have been giving thanks for the harvest since farming first began in the Neolithic, and the custom is still thriving today in many countries of the world.

In 1912, Alfred Williams, Wiltshire, wrote:

“The in-gathering of the corn-harvest is by far the most important feature of the farm year, especially where there is much arable land, or perhaps it may be all corn in some places, as on the Downs, for instance.  If the weather is wet in hay-time and the crop spoiled that may not matter very much; but in the harvest, that is truly tragic!  Who does not deeply grieve, apart from the monetary loss involved, to see all that is left of the beautiful corn blackening and rotting in the fields, under the dark rainy skies of October and November, as is sometimes the case, utterly useless for anything but litter and manure, and the ground too wet and sodden to admit of collecting it for that purpose even?  It seems as though you have lived the year for nothing then; that all the bloom and sunshine of the spring and summer were mockery; that Nature brought forth her beautiful children but to destroy them.”

In centuries past, the whole life of the Nation of Britain and its agricultural economy depended on the harvest.  Even when the harvest had lost some of its economic importance, it still had a deep psychological effect on rural communities.

Autumn Wheat (c) Angela Porter 2010The word harvest comes from the Anglo-Saxon word ‘haerfest’ which meant autumn. According to the Venerable Bede, writing in the seventh to eight centuries, September was known to the pagan Anglo-Saxons as ‘Haleg-Monath’, which meant Holy Month, and it can be surmised that this was derived from the religious ceremonies that followed the harvest. However, no records of these ceremonies survived into Bede’s time.

In the Christian calendar, harvest traditionally started at Lammas tide (August 1), when the first corn of the new crop was made into bread and taken to church to be blessed. It finished at Michaelmas (September 29).

The harvest was the time of the agricultural year that the farmer needed the full cooperation of his workers.  Thirteenth Century Manorial records show that it was the custom that tenants were paid with refreshments to harvest the lord’s crops, and that in some areas there was a communal meal at the end of the harvest, and these are the earliest surviving records of this practice.

The workers knew that a successful harvest was needed for the economic well-being of the community, and a bad one would harm their chances of employment the following year.  During harvest, their wages doubled as the amount of work doubled.  Many customs and usages developed over the years which helped to keep the workers amused, gave further financial rewards, or celebrated their successful harvest.  The idea that these customs are direct survivors of pre-Christian times, of beliefs in corn goddesses and vegetation spirits, is not supported by the documentary record.

Prior to mechanisation, the mutual aid that existed between farmers and neighbours in the community was vital to the reaping of the crops. The fedel wenith, or reaping party, drew on the pattern of Cymhortha (from cymhorthu – to help), a characteristic of Welsh medieval society. Small-holders would help each other and also the large farms, in exchange for various things they had to give, like the loan of transport or a few rows of potatoes. In this way a system of goodwill and co-operation was built up within the community.

As soon as the last load of grain had been brought into the barn, the reapers and other workers were treated to a feast – the Harvest Supper – provided by the farmer for whom they had worked. In the eastern counties of England this feast was known as a Horkey Supper, while in Wales it was known as ffest y pen, cwrw cyfeddach or boddi’r cynhaeaf.

Whitlock says that in Wiltshire, the golden years of the Harvest Supper were during the second half of the 19th century and suggests that they had largely died out by the turn of that century. The suppers seem to have been quite lavish – or at least they seemed so to the farm workers who attended them. Food was plentiful. In Sussex caraway seed cake was traditional and was served to the workers throughout the harvesting because it was believed that the caraway seed provided the workers with strength and increased their loyalty to their employer, thus ensuring that they could not be enticed away by a neighbouring farmer offering higher wages. As well as seed cake, pumpkin pie and large apple turnovers called “Brown Georges” were served at Sussex harvest suppers.

In Carmarthenshire the supper included a dish called whipod which included rice, white bread, raisins, currants and treacle. In nearby Cardiganshire in 1760, a farmer reported that the feast following the reaping of his rye by about 50 neighbours consisted of ‘a brewing pan of beef and mutton, with arage and potatoes and pottage, and pudding of wheaten flour, about 20 gallons of light ale and over twenty gallons of beer’. After the meal, there was usually dancing to the music of the fiddle, with a plentiful supply of beer and tobacco.

Also in Wales, was the custom known as the caseg fedi, or harvest mare. When all the corn had been reaped except for the very last sheaf, the sheaf would be divided into three and plaited. The reapers would then take it in turns to throw their reaping hooks at it from a set distance and the one who succeeded in cutting it down would recite a verse:

Bore y codais hi,
Hwyr y dilyn hi,
Mi ces hi, mi ces hi!

[Early in the morning I got on her track,
late in the evening I followed her,
I have had her, I have had her!]

The other reapers would then respond with:

Beth gest ti?

[What did you have?]

and the reply was:

Gwrach! gwrach, gwrach!

[A hag, a hag, a hag!]

It was seen as an honour in Wales to be the one to bring down the caseg fedi, and the man who did so was often rewarded.

The plaited sheaf presided at the Harvest Supper, and was often hung in the house to show that all the corn had been gathered in. It could also, in one part of Wales, be put on the cross-beam of the barn or in the fork of a tree.

The ‘caseg fedi’ may have represented the fertility of the harvest condensed into the final sheaf. In one part of Wales, it was recorded that seed from it was mixed with the seed at planting time ‘in order to teach it to grow’. In other parts of Britain, this last sheaf was buried on Plough Monday, the first Monday after Epiphany (6 January) so that it could work its magic on the growing corn. It is possible that this association of the gwrach, a creature known to steal food, with the cutting down of the last sheaf, represents the triumph of the human forces of agriculture against the chaotic or malevolent forces of nature represented by the gwrach.

Once the grain harvest proper and the Harvest Supper was over, the women could begin gleaning, i.e. scouring the fields for the leftover ears of corn which they could claim and keep for themselves. In many places they elected a Harvest Queen to oversee the gleaning whose role was to ensure that everyone got fair shares. This she did by regulating the start and finish of work either by ringing a hand bell or by giving the word when the church bells rang. The Harvest Queen also had the right to initiate newcomers to the gleaning field by tapping the soles of their boots with a stone.

Today, most churches and many schools hold a service of thanksgiving for the harvest and hold their Harvest Festival on the first Sunday following the Full Moon closest to the Autumn Equinox. However, this custom only became popular in Victorian times.

In 1843 the Reverend R. S. Hawker had the idea of holding a special service on the first Sunday in October in his Cornwall parish. The idea caught on and soon it became the custom to decorate churches with fruit, vegetables and flowers and to sing the harvest hymns written for the occasion.

Harvest has now become a time when people come together to give food to the needy, or to raise money for worthy causes. Thus Harvest still commemorates not just the gathering of the fruits of the Earth, but also the community cooperation that exists and the desire of our own spirits to help worthy causes and to spread the abundance of gifts of all kinds to wherever there is a lack. It is also a time when we can reflect on the successes of our own endeavours, and reap the fruits of our own labours and count our blessings for all that we have in our lives.

  1. Steve Round – The English Year
  2. Sue Dale-Tunnicliffe – TES Magazine, 24 Sept 1999
  3. Raven – White Dragon Website
  4. Hillaire Wood – Harvest Customs in Wales
  5. Ronald Hutton – The Stations of the Sun

Hello miss…

School has well and truly started with two full teaching days this week.  Best greeting, though, has to be …

“Miss, you look the same,” said he.

“You sound disappointed.  Did you expect me to change into a frog over the summer?” said I.

“No, but I thought you would be a Jedi,” said he.

“Ah, but I am a Jedi Knight, in disguise,” replied I.

Mind you, the things one could do with a light sabre …

Memories and sloes

Memories

I’ve mentioned this before, but memories of my father include his wine making and beer brewing hobby.  Most of what he created, to my taste buds, was vile, but others seemed to relish it.  The only brew of his I liked was a raspberry wine that still tasted of raspberries and was quite sweet.  He’d spend hours and hours in his wine-shed (literally a concrete block/brick shed that was attached to the house) filtering and bottling and labelling.  And tasting it.  Never forget the tasting it.  He’d often spend much of the day tiddly from it!

Tea would be delivered to the shed door, empty mugs whisked away.  Scottish bagpipe or marching military band music would ooze out of the door, alerting everyone to what he was up to.  Occasionally, the music would stop and he would come out to declare he was feeling woozy.  We’d feed him some sugary snack suitable for a diabetic and then feed him properly, he’d recover and off he’d go back to his brewing.  You couldn’t get him to stop and eat when he was in the middle of something, nor would he eat any food delivered to him.

He had a brewing passion for years, and before it consumed his waking moments he would spend his days working on fixing and welding cars.  Tea would be left on the wall, empty mugs removed.  We often said he’d pass away while under a car and the only way anyone would notice was that un-drunk mugs of tea would line up on the wall.  As it was, he passed away in hospital from Alzheimers’, cancer, arthritis, diabetes and high blood pressure.  And that is an entirely different story.  And there are many tales of my father and his blinkered missions to do things or collect things from nature or his DIY diasasters.  He meant well, though he was very proud and couldn’t be told there was trouble ahead if he carried on doing what he was doing.

Perhaps I’ll relate tales and memories of my father in this blog.

Sloe, fruit of the Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa)

Sloe comes from the Old English slāh. It is the fruit of the blackthorn or sloe tree that has a pale-blue waxy bloom on its surface.  Sloes ripen in the Autumn and, in Britain, are traditionally collected after the first frosts in October or November.  The fruit is used to make jams and preserves, and they are used to make sloe ‘gin’ – a liqueur made by infusing sloes and sugar in gin, vodka or neutral spirits.

Straight blackthorn stems have traditionally been made into walking sticks.  Shillelaghs, blackthorn sticks, were favoured as weapons in faction fights in C19th. Ireland.  Commissioned officers of the Irish regiments of the British Army carry blackthorn sticks.

Blackthorn is generally considered unlucky to bring indoors, and in some areas of Britain it meant a death would follow.

The flowering of blackthorn is said to coincide with a spell of cold weather.  In areas it was considered wise to plant no tender plants outside until the blackthorn has finished flowering.   The best time for sowing barley was when the blackthorn flowered.  Two country rhymes follow, the first from North-East England and South-East Scotland, the second from Gloucestershire.

When the slae tree is white as a sheet
Sow your barley, wither it be dry or wet.

When the blckthorn blossom’s white
Sow your barley day and night.

In Sandwich, Kent, each incoming Town Mayor is present with a blackthorn stick.

In Herefordshire and Worcestershire, a wreath or globe of Blackthorn twigs would be scorched on a fire on New Year’s morning and then burned in a wheatfield in the furrows and its ashes scattered over the wheat. Then a new globe or wreath would be made and hung in the farmhouse kitchen ready for next year. It was believed that this ritual would rid the field of the devil. In a similar vein, Blackthorn would be scorched and hung up with mistletoe for good luck.

  1. Roy Vickery – Dictionary of Plant-Lore
  2. The English Cottage Garden Nursery

Catching up, customs, celebrations.

Catching up…

With the return to work last week, research and blogging has had to take a back seat, especially as my evenings and Saturday have been busy.  I noticed I’ve missed two days of  note in the calendar!

Two days of work and I’m shattered.  Mind you, that tends to happen being  a teacher.  The long summer break gives me the time to rest, relax and almost totally de-stress.  Unfortunately, it takes mere minutes for some of the good work to be undone.  Keeping up with my meditation regimen when I rise and before I sleep, and at lunch or during preparation time during the day usually helps me to keep the escalation of stress to a minimum, but it doesn’t eliminate it totally…not yet.  Recognising the automatic thoughts and reactions and then working to change them to more healthy versions is slow going, my mind has had a lifetime to reduce this self-talk to a susurrus that I have to be very cunning to clearly hear.

Isn’t susurrus a wonderful word?  It sounds like quiet, secretive whisperings.  A wonderful onomatopoeic word!  I like alliteration as well as onomatopoeia!

3rd September – Cromwell Day

On this day, The Cromwell Association commemorate his death with an open-air service in front of his statue outside the Houses of Parliament, London, where they lay a wreath there.  Only members of the Cromwell Association may attend, but the public can see and hear the ceremony from the public pavement.

70013 Oliver Cromwell is a Britannia Class (BR Standard Class 7) steam locomotive.

3rd September – Merchant Navy Day

Merchant seamen have long felt that their service’s significant contribution to the war effort has long been undervalued and it is one of the aims of the Merchant Navy Association to raise the profile of the Merchant Navy and celebrate its importance to Britain, both in the past and the present.  As part of this mission in 2000 they declared 3rd of September to be Merchant Navy Day.  This day was chosen as it also commemorates the sinking of the unarmed merchant vessel the SS Athenia on 3 September 1939, the first day of the Second World War.  All nineteen crew and ninety-three passengers were lost.

4th September – Abbots Bromley Horn Dance

On the Monday following the local Wakes Sunday (i.e. the first Sunday after 4 September, or Old St Bartholomew’s Day), the village and surroundings of Abbots Bromley in Staffordshire, England, UK, are visited by a unique set of dancers.  The team consists of six men, each carrying a splendid pair of reindeer antlers, plus a Fool, a Maid Marian (played by a man), a hobby horse, a bowman (who twangs a bow), a musician and a triangle player.

At 8 a.m., they set out from the village church and perambulates the parish, visiting key houses, farms and other places and at each stop they perform their dance.  It is thought to be unlucky if they do not visit your house or neighbourhood.  Around 8 p.m. they return to the village and perform their final dance in the street.

The horns are kept in the church when not in use.  They are genuine reindeer horns, mounted on wooden heads, with a handle protruding from below to allow the dancers to carry them as they dance.

There is a lot of speculation about the origin of the custom.  Many have connected it to a fertility ritual, an ancient ceremony to ensure successful hunting, or of some common right or privilege in regard to the chase, but none of these ideas is supported by evidence.  It may be that the hobby horse is older than the horn dance, and hobby horses were used in the C16th to collect taxes and dues owed to the lord of the manor; whether the horse made the collections or whether it was there to entertain and sweeten the process of money-gathering is not known.

4th September – Barnet Horse Fair

This horse fair was chartered in 1588 and for centuries was one of the busiest livestock marts in the region, although Barnet’s real fame lay in horse-racing which drew large and unruly crowds from London until it ended in 1870.  A mere shadow of its former self, Barnet Horse Fair is now held at Greengates Stables on 4, 5 and 6 September, unless one of those dates is a Sunday, in which case it continues on the following day.

Fruitful art?

Arty things

Well, I’ve just scanned in and added a pen and watercolour wash illustration of crab apples to yesterday’s post.  I got the bramble one done yesterday, though I’m not at all sure about using acrylic paints.  I do like the vibrancy of colour they give, but I also like the subtlety of watercolours too.  And working out how to use black ink with the colours so it looks ‘grown up’ and not childish/cartoony to me is a bit of a challenge, and I’m not at all sure that I’m succeeding.  But it is making for interesting art experiments I suppose.  Not sure what next though …

Awake too early

I woke up at stupid o’clock this morning, mind rushing, unable to settle to read, to meditate or anything.  I think that may be to do with today being the last day of my summer holidays and the return to work is really looming large.  I’ve had a rough few years at work, battling with stress/depression and other things, and though I am getting better, there’s still a way to go.  I don’t quite know how things will pan out – I’m doing my best to be positive about things, but the pressures involved in spending time with people, the noise, the fuss, the bustle, and that’s only the first day without the pupils back!  I do want to change careers but I have no idea what to … I’d like to work with my creativity, something that involves writing, art, imagination, working with people I can relate to, where there’s a level of respect and warmth would be good, where there are people I can bounce ideas off …exactly what that would be, I don’t know, but when I’m ready to make that move all will be apparent I’m sure.

I had an interesting time last night where I was showing some of my art to friends at my healing group.  They were pressuring me to frame my art, hang it, sell it, take it to galleries and hotels and libraries and craft centres and and and to display and sell it.  In the future I may be able to do that, but I find it so hard to show my art to people I know (unless it’s through the relative anonymity of t’interweb) and the thought of promoting it myself is … painful.  I found myself becoming quite angry and agitated as they kept repeating what I should do … and I tried to explain why I can’t do it…the financial cost of exhibiting is prohibitive for me at this time in my life.

Anyone know an agent who would represent me, or any other suggestions that don’t involve me pushing way too far outside my comfort zone?

A new month

Today is St Giles’ Day. St Giles died around the year 710.  During his lifetime he founded a monastery in Provence, near Arles, and that is about all that is known about his life.  The medieval myth makers, however, provided a colourful set of incidents for his life, including an explanation of how he was given the money to found the monastery.  When he was living as a hermit he had pet doe who provided milk for his nourishment.  Unfortunately, the King’s huntsmen loved to chase the doe and eventually they trapped her in the dense thicket in which Giles lived.  The doe was protected by harm by Giles’ prayers but he was wounded by a huntsman’s arrow.  The King recognised Giles’ holiness and bestowed many gifts upon him which he used to found the monastery.  Giles’ was also reputed to have remarkable healing powers as well as the ability to get a pardon for people’s sins, no matter how great or small, by praying.  These tales contributed to his fame, and Giles was widely popular in medieval England and many churches were dedicated to him.  His feast day was conveniently placed in the year for outdoor events, particularly local fairs, feasts and revels. [1]

  1. Steve Roud – The English Year