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In times of old, The Furies protected Mother Right. If a mother (or any woman) was harmed, The Furies swooped down and took their vengeance. They were one of the last vestiges of a world that existed before the patriarchy. When we feel righteous anger, it is The Furies who are calling out to us to make what is wrong right again.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Bloody Full Moon
It's full moon—the Blessing Moon. That's what it says on my Witch's Calendar. I've been in my giant menstrual hut most of the day—the hut being my house. It's always interesting to bleed on the full moon. It's like having two people pulling on each arm. The bleeding makes me want to squat close to the Earth; the full moon makes me want to dance under an old oak with a bunch of like-minded people. The two energies together make me cranky. I also have absolutely no interest in what else is happening in the world. It can go on without me, thank you very much.
I did go to Bloomsbury, a flower/plant/etc. shop down the street, and picked up a pot of yarrow (achillea millefolium). I love yarrow. We had Queen Anne's Lace and yarrow everywhere in the fields and alongside the roads where I grew up in Michigan, so now when I see yarrow, I am reminded of home—although our yarrow was always white. Out here, even in the wild, yarrow is sometimes pink, sometimes orange. The yarrow I bought today is yellow.
I looked yarrow up in a couple of my herb books. It was called "Supercilium Veneris," which means the eyebrow of Venus." How appropriate. According to Susanne Fischer-Rizzi in Medicine of the Earth, "Yarrow was included in the sacred bundle of herbs carried by women on the ancient pagan day of the Goddess." Not surprisingly—since it is named after a goddess—Yarrow helps ease menstrual problems. Ahhhh, perhaps the Yarrow fairy was beckoning me. I should bask in the glory of yarrow....
Fischer-Rizzi goes on to say that the Latin name "Achillea millefolium," has to do with Achilles. She writes, "When...Achilles was struck in the heel by an arrow, the Greek goddess Aphrodite (counterpart to the Roman Venus) entreated him to use Yarrow on his wound."
Most sources say Yarrow was known as a "soldier's woundwort" and "carpenter's herb" because it was used to heal wounds caused by iron. (This speaks to it being a fairy herb, too, since Celtic fairies were known to be adverse to iron.) Both Fischer-Rizzi and Mrs. Grieve point out that yarrow has "strange contradictions." It can heal a bloody nose or start one; it can heal a rash or give you one; it can heal an excessive or scanty menstrual flow. Hmmmm, seems perfect for my bloody full moon day.
In China, yarrow sticks are used with The I Ching.
Today was not a planting day, but the wind kept knocking over the yarrow plant, so I transplanted it anyway. I gave it some Rescue Remedy, so keep your fingers crossed.
I am now going to go and watch TV. Yes, I watch television. In fact, tonight I am going to watch Monk. He is my twin brother. No, not literally. I have no brothers. No, we don't look alike. But I am like him in many ways. Let's just say neither of us likes public restrooms...
Mario is sitting on the living room floor watching the NASA Channel. They're showing new pictures of Saturn's rings. He's got several neat piles of paper spread around him—he's putting together some poetry books. I say, "Those are great photos." He looks up to see, then says, "Why is there no sound?" He waits a beat, then answers himself, "Because in space, no one can hear you scream."
This is the kind of humor I have to tolerate on this bloody full moon day. Truth to tell: I laughed. I am a good wife.
Happy Full Moon. I hope this Blessing Moon drops many blessings your way.
May You Howl at the Moon in Beauty! 0 commentsAll photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.
I did go to Bloomsbury, a flower/plant/etc. shop down the street, and picked up a pot of yarrow (achillea millefolium). I love yarrow. We had Queen Anne's Lace and yarrow everywhere in the fields and alongside the roads where I grew up in Michigan, so now when I see yarrow, I am reminded of home—although our yarrow was always white. Out here, even in the wild, yarrow is sometimes pink, sometimes orange. The yarrow I bought today is yellow.
I looked yarrow up in a couple of my herb books. It was called "Supercilium Veneris," which means the eyebrow of Venus." How appropriate. According to Susanne Fischer-Rizzi in Medicine of the Earth, "Yarrow was included in the sacred bundle of herbs carried by women on the ancient pagan day of the Goddess." Not surprisingly—since it is named after a goddess—Yarrow helps ease menstrual problems. Ahhhh, perhaps the Yarrow fairy was beckoning me. I should bask in the glory of yarrow....
Fischer-Rizzi goes on to say that the Latin name "Achillea millefolium," has to do with Achilles. She writes, "When...Achilles was struck in the heel by an arrow, the Greek goddess Aphrodite (counterpart to the Roman Venus) entreated him to use Yarrow on his wound."
Most sources say Yarrow was known as a "soldier's woundwort" and "carpenter's herb" because it was used to heal wounds caused by iron. (This speaks to it being a fairy herb, too, since Celtic fairies were known to be adverse to iron.) Both Fischer-Rizzi and Mrs. Grieve point out that yarrow has "strange contradictions." It can heal a bloody nose or start one; it can heal a rash or give you one; it can heal an excessive or scanty menstrual flow. Hmmmm, seems perfect for my bloody full moon day.
In China, yarrow sticks are used with The I Ching.
Today was not a planting day, but the wind kept knocking over the yarrow plant, so I transplanted it anyway. I gave it some Rescue Remedy, so keep your fingers crossed.
I am now going to go and watch TV. Yes, I watch television. In fact, tonight I am going to watch Monk. He is my twin brother. No, not literally. I have no brothers. No, we don't look alike. But I am like him in many ways. Let's just say neither of us likes public restrooms...
Mario is sitting on the living room floor watching the NASA Channel. They're showing new pictures of Saturn's rings. He's got several neat piles of paper spread around him—he's putting together some poetry books. I say, "Those are great photos." He looks up to see, then says, "Why is there no sound?" He waits a beat, then answers himself, "Because in space, no one can hear you scream."
This is the kind of humor I have to tolerate on this bloody full moon day. Truth to tell: I laughed. I am a good wife.
Happy Full Moon. I hope this Blessing Moon drops many blessings your way.
May You Howl at the Moon in Beauty! 0 comments