July at Wycksted

Well July started off with a hiss and a roar only to turn into a sneezy fizzle as I received a bout of some kind of flu that proceeded to turn me into an icicle and I felt like I was frozen through my core. Many blankets, hot fires, steam baths and lots of good soup and brews later I soon restored my heat source and after several days like a happy Bear emerged from my denned in bed. It was good to be able to venture outdoors without several jumpers and blankets. Not fun!

So apart from that we have had several large frosts and not much rain as yet although it is only early July. The snowdrops are out which is lovely to see, reminds us that Spring is somewhere near. The Sheep have not yet given birth although it has been cold and spend most of their nights sheltering in the tree circle. Tall trees waver about and one wonders how long before they will lean over and actually touch the roof while the beautiful willows sway and dance to their own magickal tune. Which remind me, the willow that sits outside the main room seems to have been housing many a special night as when the stars are shining bright and the cool night air after midnight sets in with a little mist, I have seen clear as day, tiny lights flitting to and from between the large boughs of the willow and no I am not on any herbal preps.

The Bottle brush flowers are abundant and bright red amidst the winter landscape this month which the wildlife love and dandelion fills the ground with its bright yellow flowers and lush green leaves, an ideal herb for courage, divination and Leo energies as well as helping with the digestive system. The garden is a little bare although fennel, lemon balm and the mint are doing really well as is the mugwort that got planted out and as she is now free, she is making the most of her break from the pot she had been in for so long. There is much to be done before spring and when we will be planting again but for now plans and ideas are afoot as well as rummaging around the barn and other outbuildings for wood to build the new garden beds and some sort of fencing to keep chickens and other interested stock out and away. One year we had a set of peacocks that got in and although they did not eat the plants they scratched around in the garden to make a comfy bed for themselves and of course obliterated any plants that was in its way. Then if that was not enough they flew up on the roof and would clamber around up there at all hours on the tin…suffice to say they were rehomed and lived their days out far away from us and the garden, even the cats and possums were a little put out by them.

There is the tale that peacock feathers should not be taken into the home as the ‘evil eye’ will watch you and that they are considered as a bad omen. My grandfather loved them, but my grandmother did not and I remember to this day that she marched him back down to the place where he had found a peacock feather, made him put it back and do three counter-sunwise turns and pray to Odin the Norse God that all would be well. I am on the fence about the feathers, I have one in the house which sits in an old copper teapot and it was given to me some time ago and it seems happy enough there so perhaps we have a mutual understanding. We all have our little odd ways and eccentric behaviours, that’s what makes being us fun, we get to be odd all the time.

And as soon as I can, I hightail it out of the office and sit by the wood burner or get outdoors as much as possible dreaming about hibernating with the animals in a faraway land of ice and snow, where Norse folk gather and feasts are held in honour of the Gods and tales are told over the large balefires...