The Samhain Spinster Sermon - Part 13 - Magic

Hello and welcome to today's special Samhain edition of our spinster sermon. A time when the veil between here and there gets decidedly thin. I adore Halloween. Or Slutoween as it has been dubbed due to the slutty cat, slutty vampire, slutty nurse, slutty witch that nice girls get to be at this time of year. This year I'm going as Queen of the Damned. Beyond slutty. Well, what's a spinster to do?

I'm in HK. The air smells of incense and taxis and bubbling pots. It's all a rather smoky affair. I've walked puppies in the Peak in the rain. Networked at charity fundraisers. Manicured. Pedicured. Massaged. Air kissed. Bought a new phone. Drank like a fish. Hugged people a lot. Barely eaten other than the odd catch up lunch. Laughed a lot. Smiled more. It feels so good to be home. 

Back to the witching hour. Halloween fascinates me. It draws such strong opinion. From the age of 11 until the age of 16 when I accidentally dropped out of my A Levels, I attended All Hallows Catholic High School. Here, we learnt how to rip pages out of books that showed photographs of contraception, we only had this privilege once in sixth form however, as younger minds could not be exposed to such filth. Every sperm is sacred. We were also warned of the evils of The Life of Brian. Certainly NOT the messiah. I was hauled up infront of class by a particularly pernicious Miss Trunchull type teacher when I was in first or second year for being a slut... outside slutoween, which is clearly not allowed. I'd been copying my friends so had put little silver hoop earrings in and tied my pink gingham school shirt at the front like Sandy in Grease. I may have even applied a little pink lipgloss. The rather rotund history teacher decided to make an example of me and informed the rest of the class that I could destroy my own reputation but not the schools. Sweet Christian compassion. I wonder why I left?

To share happier tales though, and get back to Halloween, it is a little odd with such a strict Catholic school, that celebrated All Hallows Day, or all Saints Day, dated 1st November by Pope Gregory III in the 8th Century, a kind of mop up day to celebrate all the saints that didn't have their own special day, like Anthony, who was going to be my confirmation name, I was a contrary young thing but it states nowhere that confirmation saints names must be same sex. I digress. So here we are, at a terribly Catholic school and I am editing the new school magazine on behalf of 1T, but for the whole school. And what could the topic of this first magazine I am editing be? Why Halloween of course! Not the hallowed version you understand. The naughty Irish one. The wiccan one. The devilly one. The slutty one!

MEGGA - 10p - First Year Mag - I made the lovely wordsearch :)

I even wrote a poem. Angela the cool girl did the fashion.

Here's my handiwork:

A Witches Brew by AD - IT

Turn your cauldron to gas mark four,
And if you like it singed, then turn it up some more.
The first cooking item, I am sad to say,
Is the last ounce of breath in an ancient jay.
A pair of eyeballs from a newt new born,
A leg of a spider, battered and torn.
Then to make the potion bubble and water,
Add the contents of a dinnerlady and a quarter,
The taste of this really way-out drink,
Makes a good cuppa tea with a sprinkling of zinc.

Heresy! Although to be completely honest, I much prefer Angela's counsel... and I quote... 'Pastel colours are in fashion for the lads. We're in for a hard winter, so wear a snood.'

So there it was, All Hallows publishing a Halloween magazine. When teaching in Hong Kong, I sometimes had children removed from class at this time of year, as I would create lessons around Harry Potter, and parents would state they didn't believe in Halloween or witchcraft.

Pope Gregory I sent a letter to Bishop Mellitus in the 6th century, in which he suggested that existing places of non-Christian worship be adopted and consecrated to serve a Christian purpose. The Encyclopaedia Britannica states that this date may have been chosen "in an effort to supplant the Pagan holiday with a Christian observance". The Oxford Dictionary of World Religions also states that Hallowe'en "absorbed and adopted the Celtic new year festival, the eve and day of Samhain".

You know what, this is life, it changes, it swirls, it becomes things it was not. We recreate ourselves. Non more so however than at Halloween. Whether you connect with your inner slut or simply enjoy an evening of disguise. It is a night of magic. Of apple bobbing. Of spells.

I wish you all a wonderful Halloween with all the tricks and treats you deserve.

Traditional Irish turnip lantern from the early 20th century - damn we were poor

I also consider it a really romantic time. But I blame that on Tim Burton.  I leave you with clips from two of my favourite films. There's little sexier than gothic doomed love. Edward Scissorhands and The Corpse Bride both destroy me. So utterly tragic and wonderfully beautiful.

And I know it's not a Sunday, so no Sunday Worship, but a seasonal object of desire seems fair.

love hurts

I leave you with the soundtrack to one of the finest gothic novels ever written.

May you find your heart's desire tonight. Or otherwise enjoy a good apple bobbing. :)

Peace be with you

xxx

The Sunday Spinster Sermons: Part 12: Love

Hello and greetings. This is the last Sunday Spinster Sermon to be penned in the UK for a while. This time next week I will be rubbing the previous night's halloween make up off whilst lay strewn on my best friends' couches cackling and drinking more wine in a flat in Sheung Wan, Hong Kong. I'll be reunited with the Escapades crew, or Sexcapades as it become known. The boys I spent my first 3 years in Hong Kong living with ten years ago. There is a nice symmetry or pattern about this. I left for Hong Kong in the autumn of 2002. I do the same thing 10 years on. Much changes yet much stays the same.

Take flame haired backwoodsmen. Today, we have Chet Baker, talking about what he'd like to do with his lady friend. Back in the day, there was Howard Keel, in Seven Brides for Seven brothers discussing the very same thing.

Them a woman was sobbin', sobbin', sobbin'
Fit to be tied.
Ev'ry muscle was throbbin', throbbin'
From that riotous ride.

Good old Greek mythology - the perfect drama for exciting marble nudity

The sobbin' women come from Plutarch's tale of The Rape of the Sabine women in 750BC. Sabine ladies of ancient Rome whom Romulus and Remus types abducted to found the city. Luckily rape meant abduct then, so not as bad as it sounds. Who wouldn't enjoy a spot of abduction by a backwoodsman from time to time?

This brings us to our first reading of the day. I was incredibly lucky to stumble across a magnificent book in the library last weekend. If anyone loves myth or history or romance or excellent writing. Get on it. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. One of my favourite novelists, Donna Tartt praises it on the front cover, as does Bettany Hughes, classics professor and broadcaster, who states, 'sexy, dangerous, mystical.'

The writer, a classicist herself, took ten years to write this masterpiece. It is the retelling of Homer's Illiad. It imagines why Achilles would have been so heartbroken by the death of his friend Patroclus?

I'll jog your memory with the imagery from the 2004 Troy blockbuster.

what hollywood went with

what patroclus looked like

an altogether more greek approach to love

At night, in bed, images come. They begin as dreams, trailing caresses in my sleep from which I start, trembling. I lie awake, and still they come, the flicker of firelight on a neck, the curve of a hipbone, drawing downwards. Hands, smooth and strong, reaching to touch me. I know these hands. But even here, behind the darkness of my eyelids, I cannot name the thing I hope for. During the day, I grow restless, fidgety. But all my pacing, singing, running, does not keep them at bay. They come, and will not be stopped.

Sigh, Now I know it's Achilles fangay stuff. Oscar Wilde meets Barbara Cartland but to add love and passion and feeling into a text consumed by war and death is quite brilliant. I'm only a few chapters in... I imagine there'll be more exciting developments soon.

OK. So back to the ten year relocate to Hong Kong thing.

There will be a lot the same and a lot different.

When I moved to Hong Kong in 2002, there was no Facebook or Twitter. Phones just made phone calls. I'd sing I'm With You by Avril Lavigne after too many shandies. I was leaving in part to leave old heartache behind but mainly for adventure. To go and find stories. I was armed with my Sony Discman to board my Emirates flight where I probably watched 40 days and 40 nights on the inflight entertainment. I'd never been to Hong Kong and only knew one girl there. She was away so her boyfriend was meant to meet me at the airport. He didn't. I took a cab, with my seven bags (I hadn't really got the handle of how to pack back then). I got dropped off in Lan Kwai Fong. Agog. And walked with all of my seven bags to Wo On Lane. Smiled at the concierge who said something completely unintelligible and took a lift up. The boyfriend had got the dates wrong. It was hot. It was humid. There were lanterns everywhere. And rabbits. It was Mid-Autumn Festival. 

And life began.

I met wonderful people. Held wonderful jobs. Fell in love. Broke my heart. Fell in love again. Broke my heart. Went on adventures. Studied Eastern mysticism. Explored Asia. Explored Africa. Detoxed. Retoxed. Detoxed. And repeat. Tragedy. Comedy. Tragicomedy.

So what now. Ten years on?

More of the same, please. I think I've tooled up with a few more life skills to handle the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. To find more calm within the eye of the storm. To fall in love slower. To heal my heart faster. To see more of the comedy than the tragedy. Will I still sing gay/teen pop when drunk? Very probable. Taylor Swift's new album's out on Monday...

So, a final peace be with you from England.

I wish you love and luck on your travels however near or far they may be.

Love, passion and adventures,

Alison

xxx

The Sunday Spinster Sermons: Part 11: Harvest Horn

Good morning, afternoon and evening dear sermon followers. Our welcoming song does begin with a Guinness ad, but it has the Edward Scissorhands music in the background so I fully recommend a listen. This middle aged spinster song is not terribly cool but has kept me uplifted driving through the Shire so I hope it perks your petals too.

Before I sermonise, I think we'll go straight into some good old fashioned Sunday worship. I was particularly enjoying medieval fellows last night. It's my castle connections, I can't help myself. Let's go back to the 12th Century and imagine them all at the castle as I wave goodbye.

An oath's just words Aliena, it's nothing compared to this, come away!

Knights of the round gratuitously naked in servitude table

The seeker and his wood

Winter is Coming

(P)IMP

King of the North

Your name lady, I still need to hear it...

Yes. That was what the last 18 months have been. Tireless. Knights. Castles. Chivalry. And lots of lots of smouldering...

Ha. Perhaps not. But what an incredible experience to have had. I'm truly grateful. My last day working at Powis Castle was on Tuesday. My mantlepiece groans with good luck and sorry you're leaving cards. I have flowers and chocolates and cakes and originals of Alice in Wonderland and posh tottie mugs and frogs that turn into princes when left in water for 72 hours... my colleagues know me well. :)

I look back at a time when I got to dress up a lot. In a castle. Which as a fairytale lover could not have been more perfect.

english rose

stuart wench

red menace

princess

protester

pimp

kitten

edwardian lady

wedding planner

50s pin up

cycling enthusiast

lady in waiting

indian wedding guest

and then I flew away - like the wizard of oz... waving goodbye to:

the parties

the beautiful gardens

and over 150 volunteers and staff

What a trip?

If you've read my previous posts, you'll know it looks like a fairytale, but has had all the requisite villains and adversities to overcome. I feel I'm in a glorious harvest season now. There have been many seeds sown and as I fly off to Hong Kong, I am looking forward to my harvest festival!

For those concerned I visit on a fool's errand, rest assured, I have many a meeting afore me and after leaving Once Upon a Time am ready to embrace a new dawn, a new day, a new life, for me and it feels good.

Peace be with you all.

I wish you all an excellent harvest horn :)

Dionysus - God of wine and definitely horn

xxx