On the Register

It's been a gloriously sunny day in Edinburgh today. A good omen as Martine and I headed on down to the Registry Office in Leith.

It's done.

It can't be undone.

Well, it probably can, but we won't!

The paperwork is filed. The date is set.

Not only is the marriage going ahead - the move is going ahead. Ruaíri's taking a one-way ticket to Edinburgh from Dublin, and Martine's son is driving them both back, along with her possessions.

It's two weeks away, it may as well be a lifetime.

Not thinking about it.

Beautiful flowers sent by Martine's
daughter in Australia.

Between now and then I have plenty to distract me.

A dear friend, who I've been staying with the past few weeks, is about to lose his house due to a bunch of bastardly landlords who have decided to sell the property having recently assured him that they wouldn't and slyly talking him out of signing a tenancy extension that would have prevented them from doing so.

It's come as a real unexpected blow as he's only just settled in after moving his belongings up from Yorkshire. By 'belongings,' I mean a huge library of books which are very heavy to lug up and down a flight of stairs. It also puts a spanner in the works for getting our heritage project off the ground, as finding somewhere to live takes priority, obviously.

Totally pants.

Still, it gives me something to focus on other than Martine's imminent departure.

I'm hanging around here in Edinburgh until the end of the week. Heading back to Clackmannanshire to pick up Paul and deliver him to a rock art conference in Yorkshire, where he's speaking on 13th. Also meeting up with another guy down there who's agreed to come on board with the heritage project.

I need to be back in Edinburgh around 16th to help prepare for the wedding and wave them off.

I was planning to head South after that, seemed too sad to stick around, but I've been invited to John & Kitty's Beltane bash in Fife. J&K are renowned throughout the British Pagan community for their sabbat festivals. They are legendary. To garner an invitation is a huge honour, and one I can't wait to take up. Honestly, I walked into a moot in Gloucester a few years back and sat down (opposite none other than Ron Hutton!) to find everyone talking about J&K and how lovely they are.

It's true. They are.

I went up for Samhain (our New Year) a few weeks after returning to England from Rwanda, back in 2009. It was an enchanting night with the fire blazing, the spirits dancing, and a hot tub under the stars. One particular friendship I formed there happened to save me - knight on white horse fashion - a few months later when I became stranded in Amsterdam.

So, there seems little point heading South only to come back North for Beltane. I'm embracing this as my return to the fold. I've been on a bit of a wobble the past couple of years, but my time in Scotland among these solid standing stones has really grounded me. It feels good, and it feels time. 

I'm going to stay up here until my friend is settled again. I think he's going to need the use of my car, and I'm sure the community can help out. If not, I'm sure he'll love the hot tub. It's been a long time since I jumped the Bell Fire, I can think of no better hand to hold.

I'll head back down South once he's sorted.

I have dreams and ideas brewing.

Not that these won't one day lead me back to Scotland, but the Cailleach and the Bodach can wait a while yet for my soul.

Mango

On a less dramatic - or possibly equally dramatic - note, we went to see Cloud Atlas yesterday with Laetitia, and gorged ourselves on red liquorice.

Verdict?

See it.