It might seem a little odd to blog about Winter Weddings just when I’m working on my Summer tan, but…
There’s a tendency to set wedding dates from Spring through to Autumn, but actually there are some really good reasons to choose a Winter wedding in Cumbria.
In no particular order:
A wedding is a time of joy, celebration and delight! Why not warm up Winter by choosing this time to say “I do”? Banish the grey gloom of Winter with one simple thing: a wedding date!
You can add a festive theme to your celebrations.
It’s beautiful and cosy indoors, and you can create a truly intimate setting for your special day with fairylights, open fires, and candlelight.
Being out of season, means you’ve got more chance of getting your first choice of venue, photographer, videographer, florist and CELEBRANT.
Think of all the lovely things about Winter: hot chocolate, woolly blankets, cosy lighting, comfort food. Incorporating these into your wedding day will make it a celebration like no other.
There are some absolutely FAB wedding venues in Cumbria, such as Askham Hall, the quirky ancient ruin Kirklinton Hall, and then there are places like any of those owned by Rowley Estates. And, best of all, if you choose a celebrant to create, write and officiate your wedding day, you can have it where you want, when you want, and how you want.
Recently, Paul and I went to visit Pete and Irene who own Limetree Nature Reserve where we used to host family camps when we owned The Mother magazine. It was so hard to leave there without having the urge to gather once again with likeminded people for a camp. SO…in case you don’t know, Paul, our daughter Eliza, and I are hosting a five-day family camp there next month.
Labyrinth at one of our previous camps
This camp will be different from our other ones in that we have caterers in so that we can spend our time with guests, and lead workshops and activities. But it will be the same as previous camps, in that there is a strong ethos towards creating a nurturing, safe and holistic family space.
Rocket Catering has an excellent reputation for providing wholesome, quality, nutritious food, and can cater for gluten-free, raw, vegan and vegetarian.
There’ll be an assortment of activities and workshops available (all optional). Limetree is such a magical place for the young and the not-so-young!
Mike and Petra’s Handfasting ceremony at one of our previous camps
The theme for this camp is: Celebrate Your Creativity.
When:August 18th – 22nd 2016 Where:Limetree Farm, near Ripon, North Yorkshire
Children aged 14 and under: £35
Children aged 15-18: £50.
This fee includes any workshops you’d like to attend, camping, lunch and dinner for four days. (BYO breakfast). I’m sure you’ll agree this is an excellent price for a family holiday!
If you are interested, download the booking form from here:
In issue 3 of Starflower Living magazine, I wrote a piece on mandalas as therapy. I am particularly drawn to the idea of the circle, and the importance of a baby always having access to a face. When we make nature mandalas, this helps us tap in to the innate need we have to connect with the Cosmos.
Starflower Living magazine is publishing every New Moon. Just £2.50 per issue, and instantly downloadable.
When I was a young girl of about seven, I would walk miles along the dusty road to the nearest church. It was for Catholics, and I wasn’t one. That didn’t matter. I would walk that road with utter devotion, always with an eye out for snakes. I was off to talk with the Divine Father!
My mother had sewn me a beautiful ankle-length turquoise taffeta dress for church.
The rural church was a white wooden building with a red corrugated iron roof and sat handsomely right beside the creek in Freestone, a rural community on the Darling Downs, near Warwick. (Queensland, Australia.)
Scrubland in Freestone
Freestone, near Warwick, on Queensland’s Darling Downs.
My childhood home nestled against beautiful eucalyptus-covered mountains.
Freestone State School. I’m on the left, third row up. 1975.
In childhood, I’d wear my baby sister’s square terry cloth nappies on my head and pretend I was in a nun’s habit. I’ve since experienced past life regression which has shown me lives in monasteries and convents. I guess those memories were strong in early childhood.
My Mum and baby sister, Ramona, 1973
Although I still delight in the nature of church buildings, my faith is far removed from any man-made religion. I pray regularly, but not in the way depicted in the movies or religious books.
Today a friend and I were talking about such matters as faith and loneliness. I said that even when I’m alone, I know I’m never alone. My connection with the Divine is a constant in my life, whether it’s when I stand under a dark sky illumined with starlight or have my hands in the cool dark soil.
Sunrise from my garden.
I pray in gratitude for fresh air, and sunshine on my skin. I touch the face of God when I brush my fingers on the bark of a tree or hear the hooting of an owl or make love with my lover.
To feel the strength of trees in the forest.
No matter how upsetting life can be or frustrated I might get with a certain situation, I always know that I’m not walking this life alone. I feel it, in the deepest cells of my being, that my Breathmaker and I are one. I may well disagree with Him/Her sometimes (okay, often), but together we walk along the path.
I pray when I read beautiful scripts by candle light, such as anything written by Kahlil Gibran.
I pray when I see a smile on my child’s face.
Sunday morning sunrise at Long Meg, the stone circle near our home.
My first thoughts when I wake and the last thoughts I have before sleep are also a prayer: forgiveness.
I pray every time I have a thought, and am on constant Guard duty making sure that negative thoughts are quickly ousted. I’m a work in progress, and that’s a prayer, too.
I pray when I move firewood and when I wash dishes. I pray when I hug a friend and imagine our hearts connecting as one.
I pray when I am beside the crackling woodstove, with nothing but the sound of flames for company.
I pray when my heart moves to the haunting sound of cello music.
I am praying when I prepare my family meals or wash their clothes.
My life is a prayer, and I’m thankful that I have an inner church in which to bow down to the Universal Energy which connects us all.