(Image from http://www.kickscount.org.uk/hypnobirthing-hypno-hypyes/)   I promised that I would write a follow up to my first article about hypnobirthing, and truly expected to be doing this in the weeks directly following the birth. I realise, in retrospect, how foolish this was, as the sleep deprivation immediately following the birth of any new-born is quite debilitating! Now I am approaching something akin to a routine (sort of; not really…) I’ve decided to come back to you to let you know how the techniques I discussed previously actually worked in a real-life labour situation. Early Labour My early labour wasn’t ‘as standard’ because I had to be induced, due to various issues…

  *’Knackered’ is a British slang term meaning ‘extremely tired’, in this context anyway.   Put away the crackers, Can’t you see I’m knackered*? Too many ‘small’ sherries So many Holly berries! It isn’t Solstice any more So clear the fake snow off the floor Sweep the hearth and lock the door. No more carols, no more knocks; No more callers: check the locks! Pull down festive Solstice Socks. But leave the ivy, leave the oak Leave the promises we spoke To truly honour Sol’s return To let the midnight fires burn To cherish love and cherish hope Even though right now I just can’t cope With sales and queues…

Notes from the Apothecary: artichoke     January is an odd sort of month, past the solstice but not yet at Imbolc; deep in the heart of winter where the promise of the sun’s return sounds like a distant whisper. In keeping with the oddness of the month, I thought it would be appropriate to look at a plant which is extremely odd indeed: the artichoke. The name artichoke is used for two distinctively different types of plant. One is the Jerusalem artichoke; a sort of knobbly, potato like root which is very tasty and nutritious. However, for this month’s notes, I will be examining the globe artichoke, as far…

Winter cries A broken sob Of rain and throbbing grey To wistful white A sorry sight A tear track trails And smiling fails As frost bites hard Each chew and chomp Enamel stomp Upon a tongue Of furry sludge A grisly grudge A snarling wind And screeching trees Fog whispers please… And begs for entry To the heart The roaring hearth The glowing soul Oh let me in, let me in… Cailleach cries But listen not If you are wise.   Copyright 4th December 2013   *** About the Author: Mabh Savage is a Pagan author, poet and musician, as well as a freelance journalist. She is the author of A Modern…

So it’s that special, magical time when I’m awake at 2am. Ah, that good old full moon energy. It’s been a crazy week, in a crazy month, in a full on lunatic (pardon the pun) year. I know I’m not the only one who has felt it. By a long stretch. From one moon to the next there have been trials and tribulations, from joy to despair, in the full cycle of the wheel of life, throughout the larger wheel of the year. It’s been an effort to stay out from under the whirring spokes of the wheels that just keep spinning. The Cold Moon sounds chilling and forbidding, but…

Notes from the Apothecary: Nasturtium     My seven year old suggested this beautiful flower for November’s Apothecary notes. He planted some seeds towards the end of summer, and despite us worrying that it was a little late for our reasonably cool climate, they flourished, and I have seen many more across my home town this month, trailing out of gardens like fire tipped vines.   Confusingly, the Latin name nasturtium refers to a type of watercress. Whilst delicious, I am going to ignore the watercress in favour of tropaeolum, the plant we commonly refer to as nasturtium. The plant originated in South America, and was imported to Mediterranean Europe…

  I’m 37 weeks pregnant as I write this, and there’s a very real possibility I may need to go into hospital to have my labour induced as early as next week. I am suffering from some wildly fluctuating blood pressure, which appears (thankfully) to have no clear pathological source, other than the pain I am in from SPD. SPD is symphysis pubis dysfunction; a condition whereby the ligaments supporting the pelvis and pubic bones soften too early and too much, so that these bones are able to grind together, causing agonising pain. I don’t really sleep properly anymore, and of course, can’t take anything but the mildest painkillers. I…

Day of the Dead   Samhain, for many on a Pagan path, is “the biggy”, the festival of all festivals, and much of this is to do with the day’s association with the dead and thus ghosts, spirits and other things otherworldly. It’s generally celebrated on October 31st although in Gaelic the word actually means “November” so the festival being named thus would seem to indicate that is to be celebrated at the start of November. This is probably because the Celts believed a new day started at sunset, so when fires were lit on the 31st October as the sun went down, it was already Samhain, the next day,…

Stingy Jack         Master of mischief You tricked the devil Into becoming silver A coin to pay The barman’s bill.   Lover of lies You swindled Satan Into yonder apple tree Trapped by crosses You won again.   King of coercion You beat Beelzebub But your liver couldn’t win The ale was your sin You died as you lived.   Beer soaked and broken The devil tricked you Now your face is a grimace Trapped in a turnip Wandering always You can’t find the veil.     Don’t try to trick The devil or the fae You’ll think you have won But they always get their way.…

    Samhain is almost upon us. We’ve passed the equinox, the point of no return; the balance of light and dark; the perfect union of night and day. The nights are visibly longer now, and we know we are heading into the winter months. In years gone by we would be storing our food away, slaughtering beasts that could not survive the harsh winter and carefully caring for those that would.   We may now live in a world of supermarkets and central heating, but for those of us who feel the turn of the wheel in the changing of the season, Samhain (in part) is still about making…