For thirty-five years, Maxine lived in Notting Hill Gate, London, where she was High Priestess of many training covens. Seven years ago, she exchanged her life as a City witch for the remote Welsh countryside. Living alone in a tiny stone cottage in Snowdonia’s National Park is far removed from the excitement of city living, but it has brought new rewards; working Witchcraft, studying the magic of stones, rivers and mountain pools. Keeping hens and occasionally helping with Alpaca's and roaming the mountains with Bilbo, the naughtiest of whippets.

2008 May
What an amazing year this has been.
Thank you for your kind words, the not so kind, and the constructive criticism regarding ‘Fire Child’, it is all brilliant energy which made the writing of ‘Fire Child’ even more worthwhile.
Bilbo, the naughtiest whippet, developed bone problems and had to be put to sleep. It was the kindest and saddest deed. Lady, an eighteen year old black and white cat has taken over top position in the household, ruling with typical feline authority.
There have been many visiting witches, especially the coven of Stella Maris, who, were a joy in their enthusiasm and a credit to their Craft.
I did not go to May Day due to family commitments; however, via the Craft grapevine, I know the Days celebrations were brilliant and although smaller in number than past years, the magic was strong and to the point as when complete, the water element quenched the celebrations with love.
This Beltane has brought fresh magic and new ideas to the circle of Bron Afon. The younger priesthood who are blessed with gardening ability, are preparing to create spirals of energy with novel layouts of colours, plants, and stones which the Elders, who are planning a summer circle when the elements are kinder to the bones and the lush of the season is at its height, will take full advantage of the circles glory.
The Celebration of Alex’s life organised by Atlantis Bookshop was a privilege to attend. Chris and Vivien Crowley officiated, pitching the ritual just right. There were non-initiates, old initiates, grown children and a few grown grand children, all were fresh and delightful with an inner ritual discipline that shone in the magic of the circle that was gentle, powerful, happy, and fun; their was also a glint of Alex’s humour. Enough said!
I am taking advantage of this medium to express thoughts and sadness regarding public rituals performed at the expense of others, bringing to mind the maxim ‘harm none’.
Elders, Initiates, Witches, Priesthood of the Craft, teach, and certainly should know; it is a heartfelt but misguided act to perform healing rituals without thorough knowledge of the condition of the patient, in particular when the illness is extremely serious. It is a known fact that power raised can be harmful. Public heartfelt healing rituals create a tremendous amount of power which when directed to the physically vulnerable can be too much and cause harm. It is especially disturbing when it is obvious that healing is already being undertaken by capable healers who have full knowledge of the patients dis ease and present condition.
Sadly, there are celebrated Craft authors/elders, who stress they are not celebrities, which seems to give them the right to ignore all the above acknowledged safeguards. They publicly wallow in sanctimonious self-righteousness, lulling their audience into a false claptrap. Without prescribed knowledge, they direct their sincere audience/followers into genuinely heartfelt deliberations i.e. healing rituals, without thought or conscience of the sadness, pain, and worry they carelessly bring/brought about.
In this latest case, medics and healers have been able to stabilise the patient.
Raised power. whether conscious or not, always has consequences.
19th November 2007
A circle of Elders was held a week after my return from London. The priestess who is quite famed for her weaving of magic spells took us through the spell of beauty. The five points of the circle wove together a spider like web using the finest of golden thread. Not one break of concentration or thread and the work was committed to Earth to expand through the conscious soul. The stone circle now has three more interesting standing stones; the Maiden, a tall slim stone that reminds me of me when I was young; the Mother, that is very pregnant, and the Crone who has to be seen to be believed. The steps up from the river will soon spiral into nowhere; the working circle will be watched over by a magnificent Grandfather Stone that somehow has to be moved into position. The planting of the fruit trees saw the most graceful of priestesses wielding pick axes and mattocks through the stony ground to accommodate the now yearling trees. All this took place with the gathering of Elders who in the main worked jolly hard. The winter is bringing wonderful mists and fogs to Snowdonia although the damp seeps into the bones, I love this time of year and now, at last, broad band has been installed, giving me a fine excuse to stay indoors in the warmth. After about a week of sheer www delight, I decided to look if the www had anything new on Alex and me, Oops! Another chuckle, a smile, and on with the work and practice of Witchcraft without fear or prejudice .

July 2007
So much travel and visiting members of the Craft has left me full of wonder. The Craft is so strong, its priesthood young, fresh, and full of enthusiastic magic; my heart is fair bursting with joy as the beauty that abounds within the circles of the Craft thrive. So different from the days when the 'Hidden Children' were always a little nervous of their magic’s being scorned, maligned, or put to the test by those suffering bigotry. Of course, there is still the ego that will ever be the curse of the Craft. The Craft can cope with the occasional outburst that afflicts us all at times; a smile, a chuckle soon bursts any ill effects.

Consecration of Witchcraft Temples are ritually rather matter of fact and when completed nearly always a delight. I have performed only a few since my Initiation as changing home has not been a regular occurrence, probably due to the inevitable magical upheaval this causes. However, since moving to Wales and working alone, there has been no need for this ritual. My kitchen with its old-fashioned range provides all tools needed for the natural magic’s I work these days.

Whilst away from home visiting loved ones, new and old, Chris, high priest of ‘The Temple of the Corn King’, cared for the animal kingdom of Bron Afon. He combined physical and magical energy into creating a stone circle in the garden. I knew the stones would probably start communicating with one another fairly soon. Sitting by the river, the mind finds ease imagining sounds coming from all directions. With the recent cloud blessings the river has been rising. The boulders below the water crashed together as the force of the water thundered past the stone circle giving the impression of past memories roaring for all to hear from within the boisterous waters. The stones, rarely moving earthly beings, now standing in the form of the circle gave the impression of waiting for something to occur. Time became quiet, separate from the roar of the river; heat sticky and full of tension, lightening flashed. It was time for the earth temples magic to be consecrated. As with all natural magic’s it would be foolhardy not to follow the moment. The electric storm that followed lit up the sky as I cast the circle with a hazel branch that had fallen. Each stone felt hot and dry to the touch as though it would split and shatter with the intensity of the heat of the air. Lightening struck earth. Thunder crashed all around the circle of stones; the rainwater quenched the magic with love leaving the circle of stones blessed and consecrated.

These moments of Craft magic are so natural, yet rare.

They are powerful treasures when remembered.

The experience lifts up the soul and makes one aware of its relationship with spirit.

The Priest Werner and Priestess Karen recently experienced their higher degrees within the Sun and Moon Temples in North Wales. I wish them joy in their continued work in their coven in Vienna. Their memories of the rites of Initiation will stay with them. In the event of passing on the Mysteries; that memory will enable the treasure, that is the Craft, to continue.

Yule tide 2006
The last few months have been taken up with writing my autobiography; the book will be called ‘Fire Child’ and published by Mandrake of Oxford. Their website address is www.mandrake.uk.net The publishers are keeping an update on this website regarding the books progress etc. Please contact them with any enquiries. They would like 'Fire Child to be ready for publication by Halloween 2007. I am hoping it will answer some of the questions regarding Initiation of both Alex and myself and that it will clear up so many of the stories that are not true and maybe confirm those that are. After the yuletide festivities, Mogg, the publisher, will no doubt be sending the chapters for editing; this is an absolutely awful job but sometimes provocative and so has its blessings.
2006 has been a good year; the meeting of the American witches was pure delight and I am looking forward to my next trip to the Atlanta gathering in June and in May my first trip to Connecticut www.paganodyssey.com. So far, there has been no negative nastiness regarding the American gathering; maybe those who sent all the warnings last year are applying themselves to their own evolution, spiritual or otherwise.
I shall be speaking at Glastonbury Town Hall on Sunday April 29th
The Alderley Edge group completed its year of celebrating the Craft festivals there earlier in the year.

I have been working by the ‘moon pool’ when the skies have been clear. The pool is situated between two mountain lakes and when the moon is full her light is brighter than day. The trees seem to glisten silver on one side of the pool and are blacker than coal on the other. Her reflection is threefold; in the lakes and the ‘moon pool’. I come away from the work refreshed, elated, and usually very cold..
May the Yule log burn brightly.

Beltane 2006
The anniversary of Alex’s death was spent in Georgia, Atlanta. Alex had always wanted to go to the States and my visit somehow seemed to bring his wish to completion.
I had received several warnings regarding the organiser of this particular ‘Gathering of the Tribes’ and whilst these warnings left me feeling disconcerted; I have never been invited to America before and there was a feeling that it was important to accept the invitation. I am so pleased that I did, otherwise the meeting with some remarkable people would not have occurred and I am not a person who is easily influenced by tales of disrepute having been on the receiving end of these on many occasion.
What a pleasure and most certainly a privilege it was to keep company with and listen to Christopher Penzack’s lessons/workshop/ lectures; his humour is marvellously universal; and better still, funny. I was impressed and the opinion that the good teachers of the Craft have always been at their best when young was once again confirmed. Christopher is a vibrant man with vast knowledge and understanding of the mysteries. He has none of the pomposity which is so apparent in many public Craft speakers
The site for the gathering was in the middle of the Bible belt, it had been changed four times due to those who would not tolerate the likes of Witches and Pagans. Regardless of their demonstrations the law enforcement officers, who were charming and sympathetic, held their ground; we were in the main left undisturbed to enjoy the beautiful parklands and lakes where fish jumped and seemed to be in the air as much as the water. The weather was cooler than normal; it was suspected that the British weather had accompanied me.
The musicians were a group called ‘Moonstruck’ whose music was totally and wonderfully Pagan; they lifted the soul, thrilled and warmed the heart, and honoured the Old Ones. Bron Afon is still full of their sounds as I play their c.d.’s and no doubt will entertain summer guests with music that Gwyddion would have delighted in.
Due to the numerous changes of the venue, many of those who did manage to get to the site had travelled vast distances. Alas, there were several who couldn’t make it and I am sad to have missed them. This, I feel sure, will be rectified in the none too distant future.
Speaking to the Priests and Priestesses made me aware of the gentle strength which was so perceptible within the American pagan community that welcomed me; Thank you, Will, Elizabeth, Virginia, Faron, Judie, Misty, Brian, Lords and Ladies and all those who were so kind in there words, deeds and hearts.
Before my visit to the States I was unaware of the gusto with which Americans apply themselves to the development of the Craft and the worship of the ‘Old Ones’. I have never truly been involved with the politics although in the sixties and seventies I was rather caught up with the media in an attempt to reveal the beauty of the Craft in the hope that the then fear would be removed; I suppose this could be considered political but it did get in the way of the practise of my priestly duties. Eventually that kind of public work was undertaken by organizations such as the ‘Pagan Federation’ and other such public representatives, which grow and evolve according to the demands for their existence. The Americans way and attitude was refreshing; I thoroughly enjoyed my first visit and look forward with joyful anticipation to the next.
February 2006.
It is that time of year when the keys go missing and the imps of perverse, as Madeline Montalban (Madeline was the magician who created the Angelic system) used to call the mishaps of this time of year, are busy causing mayhem. My inbox has been full of emails from America and whilst I have answered them, some have been returned. My lack of knowledge of the wonderful workings of the computer world is sadly limited as no doubt is obvious. My apologies to those who have not received a reply, please try again.
It has been many years since the media and I had any interaction; these days the magic of the mountains and lakes hold me in a state of ease making me loathe to be involved with other matters; however, my email inbox is telling me that 'the powers that be' have other intentions! I look forward with joyful anticipation.

Yule. The Alderly Edge group celebrated the festive season by the Lady well; I was unable to be present in the flesh, however I managed to join them in thought whilst physically in the centre of my garden where there is a standing stone. It is here that I practise Craft rites at the Dark, New and Full moon and where I enjoyed the start of the festive season that was full of beauty and laughter. One of the priestess’s sent photographs of the evenings photographable magic’s which as usual are stunning. Once again my lack of knowledge regarding computer magic makes it impossible for me to put these on the web site. This I intend to remedy, soon!

Candlemass. It was cold when I arrived at the Edge to work the sun magic which is always done in full view of those who walk in this stunningly beautiful place. It is obvious that they are curious and would love to ask us questions; so far British reserve has prevailed allowing us to continue without being disturbed. By early evening the group was able to start the ritual of Conception; the temperature was still cold but not too unbearable on the feet; it is easier to make contact with Mother Earth’s energies via bare feet. The year’s ritual form continued with the two circles created to allow the worlds to interact bringing the concept of conception into being; this was so abstract, beautiful and uplifting and with a strangeness that I am still enjoying questioning. That night several of us stayed in a Tudor farm house in Styal, very beautiful but surprisingly lacking in atmosphere. It was arranged that we would walk in Lymme Park the next day. This would have been good if the white mist’s had been less thick, nevertheless it was enjoyable to eat lunch together before making my way back to Bron Afon where two new chickens, Desdemona and Delilah, Buff cochins, have come to stay. This brings the chickens up to seven with Taurus in his element. Lucy, the wonderful Barnevelda was discovered in a crowing competition with Taurus. The young cockerel had to be dispatched before the possibility of renaming her Lucifer made his dispatch more difficult. There is snow on the mountain tops and the weathermen are forecasting more with icy winds and the return of winter.

November 2005
Winter approaches, the tasks seem endless as the yearly jobs of preparing for the cold need to be done. The weather witch forcasts a hard winter. Rain and gales are bringing tree’s down making the garden, which is wild at the best of times, seem part of the woodland that abounds here. The river is threateningly high, its sound thunderous, furious, and menacing, its power awe-inspiring.
The chickens multiplied in the spring, they are eating enormous amounts of food, promising to make them the fattest birds in the area; they are most certainly mollycoddled.
Keeping this diary becomes more difficult as the activities of the stone and water magic’s grow to dimensions that are addictive and fascinating.
Ultimately I have had to give in to the constant reminders of my dear friends and give time to the recording of recent activities. Sorry, I have to learn how to put new pictures on to the web site. Fortunately, a witch who understands these mysteries is going to instruct me, soon, I hope. Then, the ‘to day’ Maxine with her wellington boots, waterproofs and survival attire and wrinkles, essential in this place, will be revealed. Ah, the yesteryear days of gentle city magic!
The Autumn Equinox was a little bland for me this year and passed with the anticipated tears of those who were forced to admit that life and its involvements, romantic and otherwise, must evolve, change, and move on. Initiates endeavour to be filled with understanding of the Universes unfailing wisdom and perfect law and accept the manifestation of the undeviating justice in all the circumstances of our lives. For many, this has been such a hard time; if we fight against the changing tidal eddies and pattern of the universal law the more painful the experience.
The Sun working at the high altar on the Edge entailed practical magic’s including the making of the necklace of the Goddess. Forty knots of intent tied evenly on thread and then left to disperse in Mother Earth’s capable element; this working demanded total concentration; completion was a blessing in itself; the wine was most welcome, the libation a joy to make. The Alderley Edge group was delightful although a little awkward probably because of the shifting psychic tides and the settling of aura interaction that can be extreme when groups meet outside ordinary covenstead gatherings, especially at this time of the year.
Halloween on the other hand was wonderful, gentle, and potent; the meeting of the priesthood flowed, and power started to build early in the evening. This was almost certainly due to the extraordinary presence of the Cheshire constabulary. The car park closed at 3pm, which was inconvenient for the aging witch with a walking stick who enjoys the sun workings and convenience of the local car park. A lady at the National Trust organisation told me the early closing was because of Halloween. They apparently anticipated ‘trouble’. Nearly affronted, I wanted to tell her that I was a practicing witch and had never experienced trouble on the Edge in over forty years of religious observation in this remarkably magical place. I refrained; silence is often the wiser course.
Quite early in the evening, the group met and prepared for the rite. The HP and HPs for the ritual is not discussed beforehand, I suspect we all come prepared to take the ritual and then allow the natural energy of the evening to dictate who and where on the Edge the rite will be celebrated. I enjoy being an elder without the responsibility of the circle; it allows me take on the role of Crone and hopefully none of the more strenuous work. There are a few old crones in the Alderley Edge group! Two circles were created simultaneously; the priest and priestess mirroring one anther in a dance of time, space and worlds of being, as they cast their respective circles sunwise and starwise the veil betwixt them being most fine in the northeast. It was here that we were invited to spin into the realms of spirit, where those who had gone on before were invited to make merry with us. I was rather apprehensive about passing into this other realm before my time; curiosity won out as is usual for the occultist. The magic once again was the creating of the necklace of the Goddess, this time created by the entire coven, which is far more demanding than when performed alone. After much laughter and the touches of spirit anticipated in this rite, cakes and wine and explosions of fireworks being set off by others sharing a different kind of energy on the Edge, we descended into a strange world. Police cones, riot vans, patrolling police, and a cave rescue team, (the Edge has many mine shafts) and an extreme waste of taxpayer’s money. We spoke to one policeman who told us to be careful ‘there were dangerous people about’. Were they referring to us or those who may be anti witches? As we walked back to our cars, which were now surrounded by ‘no parking cones’, we were stopped and once again told that it was not a good night to be on the Edge. It was an excellent night to be on the Edge and part of the circle of the wise. August 2005
A standing stone has been erected in the garden of Bron Afon and rather like acupuncture, it has stimulated the surrounding earth into a place of extra vitality; this is magnetic or invisible depending upon who is approaching. The temptation to circumnavigate it proves to be irresistible to those sensitive to its ever-growing energy.
Lammas found us on Alderley Edge in Cheshire where a new group was formed. As of yet, no name has been taken; the aim of this group is to work all of the Sabbats on the Edge for the full year cycle, fair weather witches are frowned upon! The Priest and Priestess, who performed the Lammas rites this year, guided us from the realms of the mortal via ‘Lady well’. After purification, we ritualistically passed through the wheel of the year into the upper realms above ‘Lady well’ where the ritual took on the sense of otherworldliness which was strange as it was mid afternoon rather than in the shadows of night. The Edge was buzzing with humanity partaking of the beauty of the place; the gentle chanting merged with the life energy, nevertheless, we were unseen.
During the early hours of the next morning an impromptu Initiation occurred. We had all known that it would happen, yet words were unspoken, so, the consecrated ritual tools were unemployed.
Previously, to Lammas, we had visited the Edge on a couple of occasions; by we, I mean priestesses who have an affinity with the Edge and its magic. We worked on private magic’s. I learnt a lot regarding the use of chalk, twigs, embroidery, string, and stones, and no doubt, feathers will come into my next personal workings at this sacred site.
My daughter Maya has had a second baby, this time a girl, an old soul!
Visiting London recently meant that I could sense for myself the effect of the recent outrages on humanity. The fear was almost tangible! Londoners however, are, as they always were, staunch in their actions, allowing life to continue, not just with a sense of need, but also with the philosophical knowledge that the life force continues, regardless. The Pagan conference, which was to take place later in the year, was cancelled. What a shame! Candlemass

Since the Autumn Equinox, the Lords of Opposition have thrown everything, in my direction. The Lords of karma have been quite busy too!
For many years, I have thoroughly disliked being in the public arena; giving talks was a nightmare that only ended when I had left the building. Television appearances brought me out in a rash in fact, anything that had a microphone attached filled me with fear and trepidation; hard to comprehend after years of proclaiming the Craft to the world through whatever media presented itself! Last year I made a conscious decision to accept requests to speak in public only if the location was of interest to me or if the fee offered was worthwhile. My first engagement was in North Wales at the wonderful Pystyll waterfalls; it is a place of peace, and startling clarity. A sense of Spirit pervades the area. Surprisingly, I quite enjoyed the experience, perhaps because the atmosphere was so conducive. The next talk was in Cornwall, Tintagel, the weather was wild which made the dawn ritual more a battle to keep standing whilst the elements raged against anyone’s recognition or appreciation of the dawn of a new day. Whilst not at ease giving the talk it did give me the opportunity and privilege of meeting Graham King, the man who looks after the Witchcraft museum in Boscastle. The reconstructive work after the flood that he, and others dedicated to the museum have achieved is truly remarkable. Mother natures brutality can have purifying and beneficial affects! I had been toying with the thought that much of the magical equipment used by Alex and me should be put in a place that enables all to see it. After visiting the museum, I now know where that place is. The magic and power within these artefacts was in the work of the day and that has passed. I am looking forward to travelling back to Boscastle later this year the car loaded with beautiful memories and a touch of magical history.
Witchfest, both in Cardiff and Croydon were quite interesting, personally. Witchfest is delightful to attend attracts the old and young who learn from each other. Talking in Cardiff was as nerve racking as ever, however the Croydon event was most enjoyable. I quite got a buzz out of talking to the audience; this has inspired me to start work on a couple more talks to see if it was a fluke or otherwise; in either case it will interesting.

On November 29th, I had a procedure known as a micro vascular decompression of the 7th; in other words, brain surgery. A blood vessel had gone a little crazy and was causing problems for the brain stem and half of my face, hence the surgery. This meant that celebrations of my forty plus year since my Initiation into the Craft had to be cancelled. It was all rather traumatic and left me feeling delicate. Good friends and some bad one’s, came to visit; the bad one’s were truly amazing! Yule passed in a haze. Eventually Mary came; she is a red haired Scottish priestess who takes her Craft responsibilities seriously; a tough task mistress! She was a little bit like Mary Poppins; Bilbo, Lady and the hens were all attended to; fires were lit, the house cleaned and cosy and I rested whether I liked it or not. I now feel ready to get fit and start walking the mountains again. Mary (Rands) gives talks on her experiences in the Craft; she is matter of fact and tells it, as it was to be an Initiate of Alex and the Alexandrian tradition.

We are still waiting for the promised cold weather to come; the floods have caused havoc yet again washing away the railway line and causing terrible distress to those who live in the flood areas that are ten minutes or so away from Bron Afon. Today the sky is blue, the daffodils are nearly in bloom, and spring is in the air. Happy Candlemass.

Autumn Equinox. The effects of the equinox have had their usual amount of sadness, marriage, and partnership break ups, illness’s etc. I sometimes dread the psychic tides turning and waiting through out the eddying for the ending of the old and beginnings of the new tide and its consequences. On driving through Croydon, which is a nightmare of one-way streets, I managed to bump into another car; surprisingly, the sound, as they crunched together, was amazingly satisfying. My car was a right off, typical equinox stuff! I was so pleased to be back in Snowdonia where driving means travelling long distances along narrow twisting roads but at speed with very few stops, unless road works are in progress. Wales has wonderful roads!

For many years, I have wanted to go to the Abbots Bromley Horn Dance and on the 6th of September, I witnessed the horn dancers perform what seems an obviously Pagan dance of Life and Death, fertility and recognition of the growing and harvested crops. The dancers travel a good distance through out the day stopping to dance at least seventeen times, which is quite a feat as the horns weigh from 16,25 1bs to 23.251bs. Most of these stopping places are at farms, pubs and Blithfield hall, a very grand house. The farmers are extremely generous bringing cakes, wine, and beer for all to partake. The earliest reference to the dance was in Plots 1686; this does not mean the Horn Dance is the same age. Carbon dating tests gave the age of the horns as 1065. It is believed that the dance was performed at the three day Berthelmy Fair, granted to the Abbots of Burton by Henry 111 in 1226 celebrating St Bartholomew’s Day, August 24th. The correction of the Julian calendar in 1752 moved the fair to the beginning of September and over the years, the three days have become one.
The dancers consist of twelve, and by tradition, always male. Six men carry the reindeer antlers accompanied by Maid Marian, the Jester or Fool, the Hobby Horse, a boy carrying a bow and arrow, another a triangle on which he beats time, and a musician, nowadays playing an accordion, it used to be a fiddle.
The day was fabulous although Bilbo did upset the Morris men by running amok and creating mayhem. Fortunately, Nigel and Madeline rescued Bilbo who was really trying to find Moira in the crowd, who he adores.
I was surprised there were only a couple of hundred people there as it really is a fabulous tradition. The date changes every year, which can be confusing, but I do know that in 2005 the Horn Dance will be on the 5th of September.

August: Thank you for your fabulous letters and those who reminded me to update this section of the site. Sometimes the magic really is far more important and absorbing; it is the centre of my life activities.
The talk in Cardiff seemed to go well although I still find it an ordeal. People assure me this will get better. I did manage to deeply offend some, but as I said at the start, I do not intend to be politically correct and diversity often makes for good conversation. The Polish say 'it is only the under maid who is offended'!

It has been a tough time for the chickens; they suffered an infestation of red mite and scaly leg; Gemini went broody and died which was terribly sad. Taurus has been moping but suddenly turned his attention on me, accompanying me, Bilbo and Lady around the garden. Enough was enough and Topsy (a Light Sussex) and Turvy (a Well Summer) have come to stay. They are a little too young to let Taurus have his way, which is driving Taurus mad with desire as he is one side of the pen and they are flirting madly on the other. No more mites and chicken legs are a wonderful shade of yellow on Taurus and Turvy, and pale pink on Topsy. Another week and all should be well in the Bron Afon garden.

Lammas:
Lammas was golden in every sense of the word. Initiate elders invited me to join them for the celebration of Lammas at Alderley Edge in Cheshire. Alderley Edge is a most magical and sacred site for Witches and those who follow the Old Religion. It is years since I worked there with large groups; one outstanding memory was of 1976 when the sun shone brilliantly for the Summer Solstice; We worked throughout the night until the first dawn when the priesthood processed from the stone circle to the high altar to perform the dawn ritual. Youth was on our side then and the magic’s were innocent and daring. Initiations were a regular event in the sixties; it is a wonder that the Initiates survived the ordeals that were part of the ceremony in those days. I wonder if the Craft is becoming a little too couth, precious, and cosy these days which inclines the magic to mind and what is wanted of the Craft rather than what it is
. I rather felt like Chipps in the old black and white film as names and faces of past students and Initiates flashed through my mind. The day was spent exploring the Edge, visiting Ladywell and the Wizards Well. This day we had money to indulge in ice cream and the teashop, whereas, in the sixties and seventies, every penny was saved for the train fares, and sandwiches were shared between us. We now have the luxury of tents and all the comforts of modern day camping. We camped in a near by wood, I don’t think the Edge warden would have been too pleased! We reminisced years gone by, including how one warden had waited till dawn before approaching us with his big gun and two enormous hunting dogs demanding that we leave the edge. He must have watched our circle from a considered safe distance during the night! These days I think they would find it strange if witches did not work there, although, the Christians often come the next day and leave the symbol of their cross in the middle of the circle. I’m afraid it is too late; the work has been done and we perform our own banishing.
It was the full moon at 6.06pm. We had made the corn dollies containing that which was to be cast away and those that would be with us for the next cycle. In bright sunshine, we worked at the high altar; from a respectful distance, curious eyes of walkers and holidaymakers watched us work the practical magic of the day; wine was consecrated in the old chalice and libations given to the Old Ones. One of the dollies was placed high in a tree; this was made possible by the transformation of my walking stick that stretched a great deal and by careful balancing the dollie found its way into the near heavens.
We had dinner in the Wizard restaurant, which is terribly expensive and worth it as the food is superb. Years ago this was a one-room pub with sawdust on the floor, one long table with two benches either side; beer and cider were available and basic alcoholic spirits. This night we toasted Alex who had the top seat and a full wine glass.
The moon was supposedly a harvest and blue moon, which was in Aquarius. She was as sharp as crystal. The rite that followed was not the formal one of Lammas but one that used the full focus of the moon ‘and as a sign that ye be truly free, ye shall be naked in your rites’. Dance and laughter flowed, and wine and the moon were drunk from the chalice. Blessed be and thank you.

Summer Solstice; This cycle has been spent working with quartz and the blessing of the rivers. This accompanied the four sacred breaths performed four times every day. Personally very rewarding and purifying although the side effects were rather too sensitising making me prone to extremes of emotion i.e. sadness, elation etc. Fortunately, I was invited to a party where purity and all its wonders were cast aside and luckily not too much of a hangover was incurred.

Spring Equinox
How unusual for the equinox to be on time; the winds came about a week before and the energy built up to the 21st. The season took on the harmony of the changing tide making the equinox pass without too much emotional distress.
It would seem that the imps of perverse came earlier in the year; I fell over whilst dragging a box of logs; this misfortune took me to hospital to recover from broken ribs and a very sore spine. I did meet some extraordinary Welsh women who decided I was worth looking after. Speaking Welsh was banned whenever I entered the sitting room whilst stories of the past were related with gusto. The Welsh are so magical, psychic and come straight from the heart; I was indeed privileged. However there was one lady who insisted on telling those who were about to die, that very fact; rather than hysteria, a deep sense of calmness seemed to enter the room. I was rather relieved when she transferred to a nursing home!

The dragon’s frozen in the rocks have had to reveal themselves over the winter months as their summer covering became thin. Hopefully, in the summer, the children will take as much delight in the ‘teller of dragon stories’ as I do. Beltane
It will be sixteen years since Alex died at Beltane; he seems to be getting on with his work and occasionally makes his presence felt in the Valleys, which is a wonderful comfort. The twinkle in the eye and the sense of humour are still effective and cheer the more sombre moments.
Today I received my invitation to the May Day Festivities near Oswestry. It is always a great day with Maypole dancing, rock throwing and the choosing of the May Queen. Of course there is plenty of frolicking and love making whilst the oldies tend to sit and tell stories of the time when we were young. Here in Snowdonia everyone looks forward to May 1st when spring is truly with us. May 1st was Alex and my wedding anniversary.

Today is the first day that I am communicating with this web site; it is rather like having a conversation with a spirit knowing that the information is forever on the akashic record, available to the Universe and all those within. I am sure to make a thousand mistakes; I shall probably enjoy them all!

The snow has been horrendous for normal activities but for working emotional magic’s, it is brilliant! Circles created, magic’s written hopefully to be covered by yet more snow and then slowly as it melts or is washed away by the rain, the work begins.

Candlemass

The frosts are amazing and the vast amount of witch money (gossamer type webs) covering the old bracken suggests lots of inner activity in the fairy realms. Nearly time for dragon hunting, role on summer!
Spring time
We were ten for dinner; it was so pleasant to see old friends. Gosh, we were young and now some of us are grand parents! Moira prepared a Thai feast that was both beautiful and delicious. We decided to go camping for May Day, the weather was beautiful during the day and the celebrations were particularly good. Everyone had made such effort with their springtime costumes and the site was perfect. After the champion of the stone throwing competition had chosen the most beautiful of the flowered crowns circling the Maypole and taken his May Queen, they frolicked off into a field. Ten minutes later, the police arrived to say they had received a complaint that a couple were fornicating in a nearby field. They checked that no music was being amplified and when asked about the lovemaking, they laughed and said the complainant must have used binoculars and that it was a perfect day for a romp. As the evening drew in, so did the cold; we were not allowed to light fires so we compromised and lit one in an enormous iron frying pan which made very little difference to our shivering bodies. Bilbo had been playing with the children all day; he had caused some concern when he went missing for a while and a search party was set up. He turned up with some children wondering what all the fuss was about.

By seven o’clock, he was fast asleep and no amount of prodding would wake him, we even had to carry him to the tent where he slept motionless until the next morning. Vincent had been playing too! He was eventually too cold and too merry to endure the frying pan fire and retired to the tent with Bilbo. When I later tried to get into the tent, it was not easy. I spent the night squashed alongside two immoveable life forces. It poured with rain during the night and was miserable in the morning. I nearly want to say I am too old for this sort of thing, but not just yet!
Found an absolutely brilliant walk round and through an ancient oak wood, an area called the Suk, which includes a magnificent waterfall, this is now Bilbo and my daily walk which can take up to two hours depending on our chosen route and the weather, of course. It is just at the back of the house and so beautiful. I suspect it is a place where dragons may sleep; there are many massive rocks and boulders that would make brilliant hiding places. We have had dazzling sunshine for about a month, I was beginning to miss the rain, and so was the garden. It is raining now and everything is shimmering and growing furiously. Collecting Pink stones from the riverbed to build an altar to Angel Anael.
Started to clear the end of the garden, this is the no man’s land I intend to plant fruit trees in the winter and make it into an orchard; Mainly Mulberry; it makes the garden feel complete. The cuckoo has started to call and the fishermen are out early morning and late at night waiting for the salmon along with the Heron, Twocan. New Moon, new magic’s!

Yuletide

We had brunch late, it was suggested that we take a leisurely walk behind the house. I have been conjuring up courage for months to negotiate the hill/mountain after the bridge! Fully equipped with the right boots, stick etc we set off with joyous heart. The steep path beyond the bridge developed into a rather rocky climb which was quite fun until I realised there was no way I would be able to come down it without serious consequences.
My guests paled as it dawned on them that I was speaking truth. We knew a walk was possible that would bring us out on the main road by the pub; cheered by this thought we sauntered on. The farmers in this area are not enamoured of the walker, they remove the signs to discourage the like. Eventually we were in the midst of mountains, clear sky, and a sun that was rapidly going down. The snow beneath our feet was crisp and sharp and no footprints suggested that we were not on a pathway at all. By this time, we were a couple of hours into the adventure. I started to seethe and threatened a tear or two; when asked why, ‘walkers wobble’ were the words that escaped through gritted teeth. My imagination had gone into overdrive, visualizing the four frozen bodies to be discovered in the spring thaw! In the distance, we saw an old disused train station, with increased pace we headed for it, and followed the track for a while. Using the sun, we eventually found a path that led to the safety of a farmers tractor prints and a gate, which was completely covered by barbed wire. Once again, we were scuppered but the pace was on, with wonderful views, and the knowledge that we were definitely on the decent, we eventually found the road just as the sun was disappearing.

Bilbo was exhausted and had to be carried the rest of the way home, I was elated and my guests were grinning with sheepish delight. Next time we will consult a map before adventuring into the snowy realms of Snowdonia.
The weather has been bitterly cold and the cars impossible to get into without heavy duty scraping activities preferably with a pick axe! Guests left this morning and I definitely want a ‘thank god they’ve gone party’, which will probably be a drink in the Grapes on Sunday afternoon. Bilbo is still growing which will stop immediately if he continues not to eat; he has got used to turkey and goodies being spread on his ordinary food. He refuses point blank to consider plain old mince, tough!
Lots of visitors for New Years Eve served a magnificent dinner with beef, haggis, and all the trimmings. The burning of the Old Log went well; it was well laden with last year’s ills scored into it with the white handled knives. I can’t start pulling the upstairs wall down yet; the dust will be very bad. However, I will get to terms with the blowtorch and strip the staircase down. The new kitchen is beautiful; old fashioned pine doors and scrub top, which matches the doors and cupboards; the pleasure of the oven is reflected by the glorious food now adorning the table, hot pots etc. Ray has done a wonderful job of cleaning the oven but I seem to have lost pan lids that I suspect have found their way into the bin.
The house is cosy, even with the occasional draught; the log burner and the range downstairs are ablaze most of the time. Bilbo is still working as a bed warmer, which is a bit of a bore; I am working on his transfer to his own bed, this is proving to be difficult. The two rivers that run through the garden are in full flow and the sound lulls even the lightest sleeper into restful dream states.