This is a difficult time of year. The Summer is ending and the Fall is
just making itself felt. Everyone is scrambling with the last of the
summer preparations for a winter.

We had a quite a healthy showing for Rick's place near Boston. Lots of
new and old friends came to celebrate with us. The discussion was
lively ranging over the function of the harvest holiday and the place of
Frey as the god of growth and the burial mound.

The ritual went really well. This was despite a rocky start with my
head space and some loud music from the neighbors. I tried to focus on
Frey as the God travel via his horse Freyfaxi. And my wife made her
usual "sacrificial" bread-horse to that effect. But honestly what
clearly echoed with folks was the second-round of the symbel dedicated
to the ancestors. I raised a horn to my grand-father Al. Many others
shared similar tales of family that touched them. What could be more
appropriate for the holiday then sharing what gives meaning to you for
the occasion?

Each moment in time is lost to us and it is our duty to make those
moments meaningful and speak when the occasion arises. Who else will
tell our stories when we have passed on? It must lie with those who's
lives we have impacted. Blots are a forum to lay that orlog. In Frith,
with Luck, holding Honor.

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