A Prayer for Working With Herbs

Written by my friend Fox on the druidry.org message boards:

By root and stem and branch and bud
By soul's song and heart's blood
Mother Nature hear my plea
And hold my love close to thee

By the Earth and Sky and Sea
(herb's name), hear my plea
We both are to our Mother leal
Teach me well, and help me heal

Mullet Man

Today's blog post is a true story contributed by my daughter, who works part time at an area steak house. Enjoy! (And thanks, Bri-Bri!)

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Let me paint you a picture.

Open scene: Me getting ready to put in an order. Out of nowhere enters a man, mid thirties. He has a mullet and an oversized Harley sweatshirt on. He flashes his mother-of-pearl teeth at me. All eight of them.

Mullet Man: 'Scuse me miss?

Me: Yes sir? Can I help you?

Mullet Man: I just realized that I ordered a mashed potatoes AND a baked potato.

Me: Why, yes you did sir, I was there.

Mullet Man: Huh?

Me: Never mind.

Mullet man: Oh um, well my wife is giving me an ear full about having too many potatoes, so instead of a mashed potatoes can I have some steak fries?

Me: *blinks* *cricket cricket*

Mullet Man: Is it too late to change it?

Me: *Realizes he's being completely serious* Oh, yeah, not a problem. You want fries instead of the mashed potatoes?

Mullet Man: Yup. Thank you, miss.

Me: *trying really hard NOT to do an eye roll* Of course, sir. Anything else?

Mullet man: Oh yeah, do you put sugar in your sweet tea?

Me: *walks away.*

See? You can't make crap like that up! It's moments like these that make me fear for the human race.

Guest Writer: Nancie Baden

Thanks, Nancie, for giving me permission to post your poem! Happy Solstice, everyone!

Father Winter's Solstice Tale

'Tis the eve before Solstice in the evergreen woods
Not a creature is stirring, not even the Druids
Mistletoe has been sickled from the great holy tree.
Magic sprigs hung o'er doors to ward off folk wee.

Fearsome Goddess Cailleach has transformed every bower
This crone of cold stark Wintertime has stolen every flower
The villagers in fear and awe are as hidden as the light
But lo the hour is drawing close to have their Solstice Night

As day breaks on the mountaintop of frozen land so dire
Druid priests and priestesses are readying for fire
Great logs of ash are dressed in finest thistle, bay and sage.
Carried to the fields below, as bonfires they shall rage.

Children venture out of doors with wreaths of pine and ivy
And hazelnuts and fruit with cloves and singing carols lively.
Fragrances do waft on high of wassail, meat, and spice cake.
The vigilant can now rejoice as sacred King Sun does wake.

Seasons' wheel has slowly moved, the longest night does fade
The warmth returns and life renews at every hill and glade.
At Yule as icy hearts now thaw in flames of holy rebirth
Father wishes us a Good Sabbat and peace to all on our Earth

Nancie Baden