Mabon

This week, my coven will celebrate both the Dark Moon and Mabon, one of the eight Wiccan Sabbats. I need to know right away, what's the best stuffing recipe you've ever tried?

More on Mabon later. (Can you tell that they've been working me like mad this week?)

I love this time of year. I love the weather, both the sunny days with crisp, clean air and the dark days when you want to stay in bed and listen to the music of the rain on the roof all day long. I love the smell of the first wood fires of the year and the smell of cider in your cup -- all that pressed sunshine sparkling and begging to be drunk into your own red veins.

And, I love the fact that we're now only days away from my favorite second-favorite Sabbat -- Samhein (Halloween, for the xians). Samhein is the witches' New Year. I need to spend time figuring out how to make this new year the most marvelous yet.

As this year comes to a close, I'm grateful for a major win in the court of appeals on a case that's taken six years of my life (Fuck you, Curt, and fuck you, Jeff Skilling. She laughs best who laughs last). I'm grateful that the Goddess gave me the chance this past March to say "Namaste" to Grandson. I'm grateful for my wonderful friends, for my safe little cottage, for my sweet, grey cat, for my herb bed, and for the chance to have my say here on this blog. I'm grateful for the chance to take Reclaiming Classes with my friend, Katrina, for the community at Eschaton, for my coven, for my friends at St. Gregory's Abbey, for the nine years of lagniappe since I was diagnosed with breast cancer, for all the people who write poetry, for the New York City Ballet and Alvin Ailey, and for Willow, Nora, The Palm, Mortons, and Colvin Run. I'm grateful for coleus, iris, hollyhocks, daffodils, and rhododendrons. I'm grateful for the chance to live. do magic, and work in Washington, D.C., and I'm grateful for amazing clients. I'm grateful for the brilliant man who colors and cuts my hair, for the nice ladies who help me to get dressed, and for the Little Green Men who clean my house. I'm grateful for my screen porch where i eat breakfast and dinner from about April until about October, and I'm grateful for my oak trees, and the fox who visits me in the Winter. I'm grateful to my guides: to Hecate, the goddess of the crossroads, to Coyote, trickster, to Eris and Discordia, and to Spider Woman. I'm grateful to Innana, for showing me that it's ok to descend to the underworld, get hung up on meathooks, and come back, regaining your clothes and jewels along the way. I'm grateful to the mad stream that runs to the north of my home and to the butterflies in the West and the shade in the south for reminding me that there's no reason for anything to make sense. I'm grateful to the brilliant women with whom I am blessed to do magic, especially for the valiant effort that we all made this June -- I didn't really believe that such dedication was possible, until you lovely ladies lived through that day with me. And I'm grateful, in the way that only a woman who has lived her life through words can be, to you, the readers who are kind enough to read what I write and to, sometimes, write back to me. Thank you.