I hope you are suitably hungover from your recent visit from the Absinthe Fairy, for those of you that ventured to Don't Dali with the Devil shindig on Saturday night?
I shall be keeping a close eye out for a veritable feast of pictorial delectable!
Yes - it's that time of year again! Thankfully I have been on holiday this past week (post to follow) and so have dodged the early (greedy) local kids who try their luck begging for sweets. I also live on the 3rd floor and so it is always a bit of a struggle for them. Maybe if they gave up the 20 Marlborough Red a day, cut back on the chips, dressed up in more than their hoodie and were proper CHILDREN - they would receive a more welcome reception? Alas.
Anywhos. Enough of the ranting and more of the celebration that is Samhain. If you have read my "About Me" blurb at the top right of the page, then you will have spied that I am Pagan. And as such Samhain (pronounced Sah-wen) is what I call Hallowe'en. It's not all pumpkins, trick or treat and plastic ghost outlines. There is an underlying, bona fide religious festival beneath all the commercial (but incredibly fun) guff. When I was more outwardly Pagan than I am now, I would happily decorate, carve a pumpkin or a turnip, make a pumpkin cake (never a turnip cake - that would just be wrong)...yadda, yadda. But in my new 1940's skin, my opinions and the way I recognise the day have shifted to become a little less ... err... obvious... and alot more in keeping with how I present myself to the world.
I have always marked this day for what it is - a day to remember The Dead. For years gone by it has been family members that I have known, loved and lost. This year I have done things a bit differently.
Poppies I captured outside the Arras Memorial where my Gramps is on the wall to the Missing
On account of my image change, the WW1 trip to France earlier this year, along with the 70th anniversaries of The Battle of Britain and The Blitz - I have gone for a more Poppy themed alter. Something that I would usually reserve for Remembrance Sunday. In fact - I shall possibly leave this in situ until after the 14th Nov. I shall be thinking about my G-G-Grandad who was lost in WW1 and those who fought or sheltered and died during those pivotal events in 1940.
Poppies, trench art, pic of Gramps and a WW2 enamel candle holder
I know it is not much of an alter, in fact it is just a fireplace but I have come to the conclusion that it doesn't need to be much. In fact - the hearth is the perfect place for it. Nor does it need to be adorned in resin figures of Goddesses or Gods. Or a pentacle. Not that there is anything wrong with those. In fact - some of them are rather nice. My altars used to be swathed in things like that - in fact, my whole world did - but like I said, I am more reserved about it now. I have a small permanent alter in the kitchen and for a bigger occasion the hearth gets the celebratory treatment too. And it makes me no less a Witch in doing so. This is something it has taken me a long while to realise.
And that's me for the day.
I am celebrating and remembering those people who gave their life for us as a nation.
Be that in 1914 or 1940.
Soldier or Civilian.
We Will Remember Them