So, with­out warn­ing or any kind of real­i­sa­tion as to what was going on, the North­ern hemi­sphere passed from Spring into Sum­mer, neatly dump­ing us off at the Sum­mer Sol­stice. Barely yes­ter­day I was fret­ting about Joseph wak­ing up ear­lier and ear­lier with the light, and yet already we sit at the longest day, the morn­ings get­ting steadily later again from here.

Since the last sol­stice six months pre­vi­ous, Joseph has gone from bab­bling to say­ing dozens of words, the num­ber of gad­gets around the place has dou­bled, and I’ve flown over 12,000 miles. I’ve seen the sun rise over the flat block on the cor­ner, then seen it set over Iraq. There has been a RABIES on which we ven­tured deep into the Hedge and emerged only slightly weirder, there has been an Extrav­a­ganza and I have role­played for the first time in years.

Today’s din­ner to mark the occa­sion was Djej Matisha Mesla with white rice, Apple & Rhubarb Crum­ble with cus­tard, and organic cider.

So to Lugh, and to Ra, and to Apollo and all other gods that-way inclined, this drink’s for you. May this sum­mer be warm, and bright, and good.