The Festival of Human Becoming

The Eve of St. Michael's 

The struan bakes 

On the griddle, 

 Before the fire, 

The Michaelmas bannock 

 Made of new grain, 

Three-sided, 

Nine-sided. 

The struan is spread 

 On this side, 

That, 

With buttermilk, flour and eggs 

All the night through, 

 So it grows 

As it bakes... 

~Winter's Eve :: Natalia Belting

Inspired by the above words and the descriptions found in the Carmina Gadelica, we ground oats and rye into meal and made our own struan.   We added cornmeal, in place of barley, using this recipe.  As a note, I think I'd just stick with oats, rye, and wheat next time around, but Willow is pleased with anything spread with butter in lavish amounts.  Roan was fascinated by the superstitions surrounding the cake.

The light has changed, the mornings are meeker, and the darkness often sends the children inside from their play.  Roan is in a mood of lantern walks now, loving Martinmas so very much.  I'll admit, it is hard to resist the flickering light.

Right on time, the Michaelmas daisies bloomed, not a moment too soon.  I watched them grow through the Summer and wondered at them.  While the weather seems up in the air these past years, these flowers remind me that things keep going on, many of them the same as always.

It was a full day yesterday, and I made tomato sauce, calendula oil, and then this salve.  The salve was made entirely from our own beeswax from the bee rescue earlier in the Summer.  Trying to mimic other essential oil blends I've seen, this one contains lavender, lemon, geranium, chamomile, and bergamot.  I am now thinking I could have used our own chamomile flowers in the oil.  Silly me! 

Dinner on the grounds, as they say.  The weather was too fine to stay inside.  It was a little chilly, in fact!  You can see our dragons, off to the side.  Our very own honey went into the bread dragons, a once in a lifetime treat!

We shared the celebration with friends, and Roan seemed to come into his own as a helper.  His own bow-tying skills are still a little shaky, but he gave a valiant effort.  It was good to see him feeling quietly confident. 

The evening dragons, being both three, were not so ferocious, but they had a good time.  We closed out the night with more lanterns (battery-powered tea lights for the youngest two) and time enjoying the darkness before retiring inside.

Michaelmas time! Michaelmas time! 
Time is turning under the plow. 
Under the stars, under the signs, 
The ploughman toils with deep furrow'd brow. 

He turns his thoughts against the cold, 
Buries his fears 'neath the earth's deep mould; 
Frost, like fire, burns bright on the blade 
Of his iron share that red fire made.

 ~Michael Rose :: The Waldorf Song Book