I have a few things planned in November. On the 3rd I’m going to Wantage Literary Festival to listen to a hero of mine, John Wright, of mushrooming, foraging and River Cottage fame. The 5th of November is of course Bonfire Night (how could I forget?). If you've been around here for a while you will already be aware that Bonfire Night is my number one top best favourite celebration of the year. More on that in 6 weeks or so…
After the 5th, however, I will not be jingling my bells as is customary. Apart from a couple of nice dinners at home for a couple of special birthdays, November is empty. I am officially calling a NO-vember.
NO to lots of extra trips out shopping. NO to burning out from over socialising. NO to cold wet feet. We’re all about the joy around here and I can see a few quiet weeks in which I can harness that gentle energy to restore myself from a super busy first term before I don my gay apparel.
I admit that when I first think of November I think dark, cold and wet. But looking back at last year, there was a lot to love.
In-keeping with our pursuit of joy and a love of the simple, quiet pleasures of earth magick here’s what I’d like to get up to instead:
Buying a pair of decent leather (not suede, too rainy) boots. Flat, good grip, brown. Don’t want wet feet, or to fall over.
Thrifting a tweed jacket with elbow patches.
Crunching leafs (say it out loud, it sounds better with an ‘f’). Brigid please bring me the crisp, cold days that are still autumn but have a whisper of winter and woodsmoke about them. With all their enchanting colours and beautiful light.
Knitting. My WIP pile looks like a yarn shop - send help!
Sitting by fires.
Drinking coffee and herbal teas with cinnamon.
Making Christmas jam, bath salts and other Yule gifts which use the energy harnessed from the summer sun.
Putting the garden to bed. We’ll be mulching our veg patch and new shady veg border. In November I’ll probably be throwing in a few last minute bulbs and garlic cloves to overwinter.
Writing my book! It brings me so much joy to connect with the Earth and my family and the vision for the book is now so clear, just waiting to be written.
Hatching a plan for a gentler future for us all - not sure how this one is going to turn out yet but I trust that the great Mother will guide us on.
We’re practising now in the windows of time we have. Today we celebrate the equinox with a slow breakfast feast - our favourite family Saturday morning tradition. I burned our special equinox incense over charcoal, ground beans for coffee and made a batch of curry to share with a friend and some for the freezer.
This left so much space for the children to explore instead of being hurried from one place to another. They started a nature journal and read and played.
In reality, November will be full. School and work will add to our couple of engagements. But it’s the state of mind that counts. And the plan for the future. Until then, we’ll seek out the joy in slow-lived moments together.