Last night we celebrated family sabbat; just a few of us, sharing a poem each, sharing tears for those we have lost, sharing laughter and hopes for the future year. Then we ate soup and good bread, and then we played Scrabble by candlelight. Well, a little electric light to help the older eyes. Poetry had been much on my mind as I searched for the best poem for Brighid’s Day, and the idea of playing Scrabble in the dark had sprung up a few weeks ago during a power outage. The power came back on quickly, but the idea remained. We didn’t receive any profound messages, except to learn that some of us are quite serious about winning, and others like to make up words, and that we were all cheating by counting the triple letter and word squares more than once. But we had fun. And I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the turning of the wheel, in this still-dark wintry time, than to gather with our dear ones and play, sigh, laugh, cry, and then, a long nap. Blessed be.
Divination at Imbolc: Sacred Scrabble
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OOh, love this idea of using Scrabble for divination. Was at a local arts centre and they used it as a story making tool for an art installation. And, yes, I put my hand up to being seriously competitive, but fair. And we do have a standing houserule allowing to have a dictionary to hand to avoid too many hurtful challenges.