This is going to be short and sweet as the storms haven’t yet reached Brighton and there’s still more than a touch of old Lawrence on my back.
It’s Old Lammas Day, so I performed a house blessing, given my abject failure to silently harvest any rowan yesterday. It concerned three bees and a gold coloured bag. The tradition used to call for dead bees, but mock bees are now permitted. Which was a relief, it maybe some people’s idea of a jolly good time to slaughter beautiful creatures on the Glorious Twelfth, but that kind of tradition leaves me cold.
But as luck would have it, I already had three mock bees, a slightly bizarre present from an old friend. I just needed a golden bag. Fishing out the cushion cover leftovers from the talisman bag, I quickly whipped one up. Incidentally, it’s also the 169th anniversary of the Singer sewing machine patent being granted, so a bit of manual sewing felt quite apposite.
After that, I said a few words of gratitude to each bee, popped them in the bag – wasn’t sure which way up they should go, so I did noses to the sky – then hung the bag in a sunny spot to encourage prosperity and protection.
It’s said that bees should be treated as members of the family, otherwise they get easily offended. They are also said to be partial to a bit of gossip and have a tendency to get miffed if left out of hearing important news. So I’ve tied the bag to one of the blinds opposite my uncomfortably hot and recently much sweated over desk. Let’s just hope they’re up for listening to an abundance of swearing too.
By the way, my potential stye? Gone by morning. Gold rubbing is saved for another day.
Forest, D. (2016) The Magical Year, Seasonal Celebrations To Honour Nature’s Ever-Turning Wheel, London, Watkins