We often forget that the whole reason for a harvest is in the reveling in it during Cailleach’s (the Celtic Winter Witch) long ride. Otherwise, what was it even for? I'm running around trying to prepare my little farm for 15 degrees, it turns out--something the Deep South is not prepared for, I assure you.

And so, I turn to my dried herbs and teas, my pickles and pears, and revel in the harvest. Part of that is time relishing the friendships that sustained me, and giving back to them as well. You, Batchildren, are a part of that harvest.

And I am part of yours.

Stay warm, Seba

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