Asteroid Astrology: Page 6

lammas corn wheel

House Diary: Lammas

[Cover image:  The Corn Wheel I made in the early 1990s is still serviceable as the center attraction for the Lammas season, evoking corn, one of the glories of August, as well as anticipating autumn, with its use of Indian corn for the spokes representing the eightfold year.]

 

Lammas, August 1st, is the celebration of the First Harvest, that of grains.  It takes its name from an Anglo-Saxon term meaning “loaf-mass”, a day when early Christians brought their milled grain and fresh-baked breads to be blessed by the Church.  As with so much of Christian lore, the tradition has its roots in prior pagan practice, and Lammas has been honored by nature religions for the first fruits of the earth time out of mind.  The earlier pagan term is Lughnasadh (pronounced “loo-nah’-sah”), named for the annual games held in honor of the Celtic deity Lugh (“Loo”), god of light.  It was a day for gathering the clans, feasting on the abundant produce, friendly competition, horse trading and “handfasting”, a remarkably sensible mating ritual whereby a couple agrees to cohabit for a year before final vows are exchanged, just to be certain they’re compatible.

 

Here in the garden it’s been a blisteringly hot and dry summer, which spells trouble for yours truly and the errant well.  So far, adhering to a carefully spaced watering schedule utilizing zones, I have averted a second incident of the well running dry, and a few drenching summer thunderstorms have helped.  We’re having one of those days as I write, on Lammas Eve, so I’m taking advantage of my break in water drills to start composing this entry.

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Trump: The Nemesis Dialogues

[For my sixtieth birthday, a bit of mythic whimsy, as I revision Nemesis’ role in Donald Trump’s life and career; all celestial relationships are authentic and reflected in Trump’s chart; events alluded to are accurate, though embellished; reported conversations may or may not have occurred.]

 

Nemesis pursed her lips as she glanced about her at the droves of celestials lining up in the Hall of Destiny, shuffling and taking their places for Zeus’ final approval of the about-to-be-incarnated’s horoscope as the birth moment approached.  Enthroned on his dais, the King of the Gods seemed preternaturally still, even from Nemesis’ vantage point, some ninety degrees away.

 

She looked again at her traveling companion, standing on the same degree marker; this wouldn’t do at all.

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solstice sunrise

House Diary: Litha

[Cover Photo:  My own personal Stonehenge – the rays of the rising sun illuminate its coppery representation on my living room wall for just the few days surrounding summer solstice]

Litha is the pagan term for summer solstice, the longest day of the year (or thereabouts) in the northern hemisphere.  Ancient Stonehenge is set to catch the rising sun’s rays on this date, which was once celebrated with considerably more panoply than today.  Also known as Midsummer (based on the old agricultural calendar, which divided the year into just two seasons, light and dark, starting with the equinoxes), Litha was commonly observed with the burning of huge bonfires to celebrate the sun at the peak of its maximum, life-giving strength.

 

It’s been a dry spring here at the house, but relatively cool.  Now as Litha and the summer season commences, the temps are rising, but it’s just as dry as ever.  Not a good combo for yours truly, who feels like some botanical version of Gunga Din, lugging gallons of water daily to keep my precious plant babies alive.  But last night some drenching thunderstorms doused the garden, so I’m taking a much-needed morning off to compose this diary entry.

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POT cover

AAA Profile: Peter O’Toole

Recently I had the opportunity to view “Lawrence of Arabia” again, the 1962 screen classic which reaped seven Academy Awards, detailing the military career of British officer T.E. Lawrence, who led the Arab Revolt that successfully ousted centuries of Ottoman Turkish rule over the Arabian peninsula in the waning days of World War I.  As always, I was taken in by the sweeping majesty of the movie, filmed over a two-year period in the Arabian desert, overwhelming in its epic scope but liberally peppered with human, humane, even humorous moments.  But I was struck by the fact that despite wins for Best Picture, Best Director, Cinematography and Original Music Score, among others, none of the actors won an Oscar, not even Peter O’Toole, outstanding in the title role.

 

Lawrence of Arabia” was O’Toole’s breakout performance, but it wasn’t his only Oscar snub.  Nominated seven more times, four of them in the ensuing decade, the Anglo-Irish actor never took home a little gold statuette for a specific film role, despite a body of work that puts many Oscar winners to shame, including “Becket”, “The Lion in Winter” and “Goodbye Mr. Chips”.  O’Toole once quipped that he was “the biggest loser in Hollywood”, but did reluctantly accept a Lifetime Achievement Academy Award in 2003, after initially refusing the honor on the grounds that he was still acting and would prefer to earn one for himself.

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beltane burgundy lilac2

House Diary: Beltane

Beltane, AKA May Day, is one of the Cross-Quarter days in the pagan year, the midpoint of Spring. Beltane’s focus is fertility, and in the Old Days, we’d all be out rutting in the fields to encourage a good harvest, not a bad religious tenet when you think about it (though somewhat hard on the back). So Beltane represents the earth’s fecundity, with nature coming into its first exuberant flush of bloom and growth. As such, it’s known for warm, wet days, lots of flowers, and the first bits of fruitfulness, as asparagus, rhubarb, strawberries, and cold-frame lettuces are ready for harvest.

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easter bouquet2

House Diary: Ostara

For readers unfamiliar with my saga, I’m an inveterate celebrator of the seasons. Although raised as a fundamentalist Protestant, what my parents truly inculcated in me was a love of nature and the wilds. Those few precious hours between Sunday morning school and church services and Sunday evening prayer meetings were often spent in the backroads and byways of the Poconos, identifying the local flora and fauna, which was where my spirit truly soared.

So pagan practice was something I gravitated to naturally when I threw off the confines of my upbringing. But as a city dweller for 35 years, without regular access to the fields and woods of my boyhood, I’ve had to recreate those spaces indoors, and I decorate extensively season to season, using the Wiccan Wheel of the Year as my model and faux or artificial elements as my tools. These days I have no faith, terming myself a “lapsed Pagan”, but I still enjoy the rituals of my maturity and the traditions of my youth when holidays roll around.

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