Bread and butter days

That's how I think of Imbolc and Lammas. Each of our eight major Pagan holidays has its partner at the exact opposite point of the year. The summer solstice marks the fullness of the sunlight, but looks ahead to the coming of the dark. The winter solstice celebrates the shortest day and longest night of the year, but promises the joys of summer ahead.

Samhain (Halloween) is when we think of our beloved dead, and Beltane (May Day) is when we celebrate the life force within us. At the Autumn equinox, we say goodbye to Persephone as She descends into the underworld; at the Vernal equinox, we welcome Her return, with  the world once again robed in green and flowers popping up all over the landscape.

Every year at Imbolc, (Feb. 2), I make home-made butter. I do this to celebrate both Brighde of the kine (cattle), and to remind myself--and my coven--that it was at this time of the year that the cattle and sheep would freshen again, and milk and butter would once more become available. That this is the time of year when the terrible winter hungers our ancestors endured would abate. When I bring the butter to place on our altar for the Imbolc ritual, I always set a tiny figure of a cow in the middle of it, just so there's no mistaking its source.

And Lammas (or Lughnasad), which we are celebrating right now, I always bake home-made bread. This is the holiday the honors the ripening of the grain, which is the first harvest of the year. I'm a wheat farmer's daughter and the granddaughter of one of the best bread-bakers in the universe, so Lammas is a day when I remember and honor my ancestors' work and skills. And just so everyone remembers where it all comes from, my Lammas table always includes a bouquet of wheat.

Tonight I had old friends from New Orleans here for dinner. I didn't really make a big deal of its being Lammas, but I tried to serve a dinner that had all of the best things to eat we have here in the west at this time of year: sockeye salmon, heirloom tomatoes, and a fresh-baked blackberry galette. I made home-made rolls, because I couldn't imagine serving store-bought bread at Lammas.   On some levels, dinner was very similar to the big Lammas dinner at my house last week. Main difference was that I broiled the salmon shio-yaki style rather than poaching it in my dishwasher as I did for the Lammas dinner.

As I was cooking, I was thinking of this Lammas/Imbolc connection. Here at the beginning of August, we celebrate the bounty the earth itself has given us. I always get a mental picture of the rolling hills of the Palouse, covered with golden grain.   And in February, we honor gifts of the animals themselves: the milk we make into butter, yoghurt, and cheese.

A Jewish friend of mine once jokingly said that all Jewish holidays had the same theme: they tried to kill us; we survived, let's eat.

I suppose one could say something similar about our eight great holidays (which are also known as sabats). The wheel of the year turns, something wonderful is happening on our good earth, let's gather together to celebrate and give thanks.  My hope is that I will always remain mindful of this turning of the wheel, and that I will always have a community with which to celebrate.   

Comments

[Philip C.]

Wonderful post!
Again, I learn so much from you and view life in a new way. I think I'll ask my resident baker to bake some whole wheat bread and eat it warm with fresh butter.