Lady Morgana led her wonderful and honest ceremony in two parts: The first was of each of us giving Mother Earth an offering (biodegradable) of some kind as a ‘Thank You’. I remember sage being offered, a bundle of home-grown flowers, some cake(?) and I gave kinnick-kinnick (an American plant used to talk with the spirits).
The second part was in respect of Tailtu, the Fomorian foster-mother of Lugh herself. This was more in-line with the original celebration of the feast of Lugh, as He himself declared it a festival in honour of Tailtu upon her death. Legend has it she dies after the Second Battle of Moytura, in exhaustion, upon completing the clearing of the forests of Ireland in order for the Tuatha de Danaan to be able to plant their crops due to their victory over the Formorians.
We had a moment of reflection of our own mothers and, if we felt so inclined, we could share these with the group. So either way, this ritual was of giving thanks to Mother for the bounty she has given us in our lives, physically and spiritually.
It’s a shame Cthulhudruid wasn’t there… he missed out on some amazing harmonies on the Awen (We did it!).
Then it was into Tatterhood’s house (we should start paying her parents rent for using their garden) for post-celebratory drinks and food.
Luchdorca introduced a new concept: ‘The Ballad of Johnny Fuckwit’ A tale, in the making, of a narcissistic druid who has all his friends turn against him due to his own ego and is offered to the flames in order for the crops to grow. It is intended to go to the tune of ‘John Barleycorn’ as a comic-tragedy. Watch this space.
We took a silly turn as we came up with SAD- Special Armed Druids. A mysterious bunch who invade other group’s ceremonies. Attendees of such hijacked rituals cower in fear as they caught unawares by the aggressive power-chanting of ‘AWEN! AWEN! AWEN!’ and they shriek in horror as military grade canisters come bounding into their weak circle issuing purple tinged smoke. Tear gas? Pah! Try patchouli and opium incense to give you a spiritual kick in the privates. Then out of the green roll in the SAD’s bedecked in ritual camouflaged robes and war-paint. Brandishing their battle-wands 3 inches thick and 3 ft long, the assailed are beaten senseless out of the way as the SAD’s commence battle with a pre-planned ceremony before skulking off into the shadows from hence they came. This is fucking true and if it happens to YOUR coven/grove/cabal/group/doggers/whatever… it wasn’t us!
On a more serious (and pleasant) note, our darling Herald announced there was contact from an OBOD seed group asking if we’d mind them using the name Corieltauvi as they are based in Lincolnshire. Turns out they are quite into the Celtic flavour of their Druidry and Darling Herald with Cthulhudruid reached a compromise by allowing them the use of the Celtic name. You see, it appears ‘Corieltauvi’ is in fact the Latinised name for the ‘Coritani’. So the new seedling group are now to be called the ‘Abus Coritani’ (Many thanks to Briseilid for pointing out the spelling mistake- sorry!). We wish them the best of luck and who knows, maybe we can meet up in future and compare notes. Just a word of advice… Watch out for the SAD’s… they’re serious!