Monday, 30 November 2009

Andrew Octobrary

Today is St Andrew's Day and the end of November. This is momentous because I live in Scotland and because I am at odds with November - even the charitable cheerfulness and rampant facial hair of Movember cannot change this.
The night before St Andrew's Day is believed in Eastern Europe to be endowed with magic that will tell a young woman about her future husband or bind him to her. In Poland, girls used to write the names of potential husbands on pieces of paper and sleep with them inside their pillowcase. When they woke up, the first name they picked out was supposed to be their future husband. Other superstitious customs are to sleep with 41 grains of wheat under your pillow (if you dream of someone coming to steal them, you will get married next year) and to throw a clog over your shoulder - if it lands pointing to the door, you'll get married that same year.

Time ticking past is a very funny thing. Sometimes, I feel acutely aware of the seconds and minutes and hours passing me by and sometimes, I wake up and realised a week has been and gone without my knowing.
I'm willing to welcome winter in but markable change always makes me pine a little for what came before, regardless of how I felt about it at the time. So goodbye autumn and in memoriam, here is the sound of my fall this year, songs to hear as time gallops away with me like wild horses.

dress - vintage fair; necklace - DIY

I'm going to the History Masquerade Ball tonight; it gives me a rare opportunity to take the the Mrs Cook dress out for a well-deserved spin, hooray!


kerri said...

you made a horse exactly like my broken one! sob sob

Jordan said...

I feel both of those things about time, all the time.