Spoutwood Says Goodbye Sometimes

 Ah, Spoutwood, Spoutwood! Home of the first and biggest fairy festival! We at “The Gods Are Bored” salute you and daub a tear from the eye.

 

The May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm was held at a private property (Spoutwood) until 2019. The weekend event – spiritual if you wanted spirituality, silly fun if you wanted that, music and drumming if you wanted that – outgrew its location at long last. Since 2019 it has been held at two different venues near Baltimore.

 

As with any community, the dedicated Spoutwood volunteers have become like family over the years. We have watched children grow up from tots to tweens to teens to twenty-somethings. We’ve developed real bonds and genuine care for one another. Anyone who says the only place you can achieve that kind of agape love is in church, well. Either Spoutwood is a church, or agape can develop among people who are like-minded and willing to show other people how to have a good time.

EXHIBIT A: THE FIRST PHOTO OF ME AT SPOUTWOOD

 

As far as I can count, the 2023 May Day Fairie Festival was my 18^th year in attendance. And just as those tots have turned to twenty-somethings, I have moved along from Mother to Crone. The walking, the dancing, even the shouting, has become more difficult. And yes indeed, my enthusiasm has waned as I pine for dear Spoutwood Farm, even though this year’s venue was breathtaking.

 

For many years I built my whole spring around Spoutwood. This year, when I set out on Saturday morning to drive to the event, I realized I had forgotten my dragon, Big Red. I had forgotten the small Mountain Tribe banner hanging in my spare room. I had forgotten earrings, for crying out loud. I only brought the one costume I was wearing. And my energy level – more and more it’s non-existent in May – was almost underground.

EXHIBIT B: WHEN YOU FORGET THIS GUY, IT'S A SIGN

 

All three of you long-timers here at “The Gods Are Bored” might recall that I have been leader of the Mountain Tribe for about 15 years. Oh my bored Gods, how I have loved doing Mountain Tribe! But time marches on. When one forgets her dragon and her earrings, it’s time for a change.

 

And so I decided to step down from Mountain Tribe. I had a person in mind to replace me, and when I asked him to do it, he got tears in his eyes. The beauty of this festival is that there’s a whole new generation of young people who are willing to put in the hard work to organize and run it. One of those people is now the new leader of Mountain Tribe.

 

And so, at the Sunday ceremony, I formally removed my Mountain Tribe insignia (which somehow I didn’t forget) and gave it to the new leader. I thought I too might cry, but I didn’t. In fact I felt quite happy to see this young man, with all his devotion, take over something I have loved for such a long time.

EXHIBIT C: HANDING IT OVER

 

The new location for the May Day Fairie Festival is waterside, Chesapeake Bay views with a rocky point and a sweet, small beach. But time after time I found myself daydreaming about Spoutwood Farm, in the rolling Piedmont hills just before Appalachia, how green everything is there, that bright golden green of early spring so beloved by the poets. And I thought about the folks who were in Mountain Tribe there who live in that area and didn’t make the journey to the new location.

 

It’s time for this magnificent festival to continue without me. Its future is bright.

 

Being a part of Spoutwood has deeply enriched my life. But Spoutwood says goodbye sometimes. And I wave, and blink back tears, and move on down the line.

May Day Faerie Festival at Marshy Point

 What do you know? All this Supreme Court s*** hits the fan, and I get so bummed out that I don't post about the first Faerie Festival I attended since the lockdown! It was already last weekend.

I thought I would cry, and I did.

Day to day I don't have any close friends around me. I have acquaintances like the Monkey Man and colleagues at work, but most of my spare time goes to the spouse and the daughters. There are only so many hours in the day.

I'll bet the same can be said for the other people who go regularly to faerie festivals, because wow, when we got together it was like a fresh breeze blowing away all the stale air! So very good to see everyone again, so good that we came through the pandemic and into each others' arms!

The festival outgrew its original stomping grounds before the pandemic and has since moved to Marshy Point Nature Center near Baltimore. This is a quite pretty setting. Along some of the walking trails there are vernal ponds full of tadpoles, and of course there's that classic Chesapeake Bay-style view of a swath of water with reeds and stuff. Another bonus was a black vulture named Dumplin on exhibit. (Turns out black vultures don't particularly care for bagpipes and shouting. Who knew?)

All the elements of May Day returned. The Maypole, calling the Quarters, Tribal rivalries. Which of course yours truly aced like a boss.

EXHIBIT A: MOUNTAIN TRIBE OF MARSHY POINT

Okay, okay. At least I had a tribe. With a hobgoblin. Something to be said for that. If you look close you can see Kwiplick the hobgoblin on the shoulder of Professor Greenman. That's me behind the banner.

The event was very well attended, and the vibe was merry, festive, and respectful to our great Mother Earth. It was incredibly great to see all my friends!

Beltane is one of the major holy days on the Pagan calendar. It's a day dedicated to youthful joy and the lust that's rising in the land at this time of year. Perfect moment for a bunch of people who have been holed up behind masks and locked up in their homes to come dancing out for a good ol' time!

The festival lasted two days. I went to Marshy Point a day early to help set up. And I actually set things up! Not my strong suit. 

All hail the return of festivals! All hail Beltane, the day of dancing! As for me and my house, we will serve the Green Man.

May in October: A Pandemic Navel Gaze

 Two years. No festivals. It's enough to make a girl weep.

Okay, call me frivolous and silly if you like. I prefer to see myself as a chaotic magician in need of charging my skills through joyous and unusual festivities.

Words matter, right?

Anyway, it's been quite awhile since I had the opportunity to charge my chaotic magic, but I did so in spades over the weekend. 

For two decades, Spoutwood Farm hosted Fairy Festivals. The final one was in 2018, and we moved to a venue near Baltimore in 2019. Here's a nice photo from that shindig:

EXHIBIT A: THEN

If you are in on this kind of magic, you see the power here. If you're not, wow! Look at that sky!

Well, the pandemic descended, and all revels were cancelled in 2020. Then 2021 hove into sight, and the revels were cancelled again. Not that I blame anybody. No one wants to go cavort in a field with their best friends and wind up with a novel coronavirus as a souvenir.

Over the summer, one of the chief revelers from the Fairy Festival arranged an event called "Lesstival" that would be open to those who volunteered their time to previous large festivals. And this one would be back at Spoutwood!

And so, with vaccine cards in hand, a few of us arrived at Spoutwood, donned our outlandish garb, and indulged in chaotic magic. I used the opportunity to re-charge my working wand, using Spoutwood energy. And now my wand is flat-out humming with power!

Spoutwood Farm is a beautiful location in the piedmont hills of York County, PA. It did get quite trampled during the many festivals there, and eventually the fair outgrew the farm. Now, three and a half years out from the last gathering there, the farm has transformed. The vines are thicker, the trees are larger, and the wooded areas are entirely the realm of the fae again. Just don't go in there, okay? It's lush and alluring. How very fairy.

So a few of us gathered at Spoutwood. We had music, and a Burning Man bonfire, and we danced a Maypole. Yes, a Maypole in October! 

EXHIBIT B: NOW

If you look real close, that's me by the tree, contemplating the long, strange trip that led to a Maypole dance in October. 

Wow! Since we were adults, led by the owner of Spoutwood Farm, we actually wrapped that Maypole with panache! And had fun doing it. I came away from this mini-festival chock-a-block with chaos.

The best part of this festival was it had a nice long morning of downtime while all the tipplers nursed their hangovers. So I was able to take a charming drive through rural PA (complete with Amish buggies) and find a new waterfall for my collection! Look at this lovely falls!

EXHIBIT C: MILL CREEK FALLS, YORK COUNTY, PA

Easy walk, not crowded, fantastic water symphony. And fool's gold in the rocks.

This was my weekend, soaking up some mayhem in the land of the fairies. It was so refreshing!

Virtual May Day Faerie Festival

So it was round about April 21, and I was sitting in my barca-lounger feeling sorry for myself. I thought, "Oh yeah, and no festivals this year. Great. Just great."

And then I thought of my online exercise classes, and I thought: "Wait a minute. Why couldn't we have an online Faerie Festival?"

I sent a Facebook message to two people I'm close to who I met at the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm. Basically, with my limited technology abilities, I just imagined a group page where we could all just post some photos of yesteryear. Just so we wouldn't feel totally alone on festival day.

You know, people know people who can work wonders with the Internet.

Within ten days a young Fairie Festival performer had created a whole virtual playground on Facebook, and on Sunday there was a full schedule of live performances! In ten days more than 1,000 people found their way to that page -- and the photos were shared in profusion! Then came the pre-recorded stories. Then the live interviews with the owners of Spoutwood Farm. More photos, more comments, love in abundance.

Even the dreaded Wotan the Fairy-Smasher sent a greeting from Washington State!

What a weekend! I put on my festival clothes and decorated my front door.

EXHIBIT A: FRONT DOOR

The weather was brilliant. I set my machine up on the front porch and went to a splendid place called Cyberwood.

EXHIBIT B: FESTIVAL CLOTHES, FESTIVAL FRIENDS

All my friends were there. And the one festival pal who doesn't have a Facebook page messaged me, and I was able to send him some of the content.

Festivals exist because people want to be in social groups with like-minded people. Many of us go through the world feeling like misfits ... until we find that sweet, sweet festival. Nobody ever said the festival has to be on a particular piece of ground on a particular weekend. It can be any time, in the safety of home.

All of this will make the reunion sweeter when we are able to gather again in the apparent world. For me this will not occur until I've held out my arm for a Covid vaccine.

The moral of this sermon is simple: If you are missing a yearly event because of the virus, find some bright young whippersnapper and make an online version of it!

Summer Solstice Faerie Festival at Marshy Point 2019

All Hail, and welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," on this hot-and-humid summer morning! My name is Anne Johnson, your host with a boast.

I was a long-time attendee of the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm. Oh, dear readers, how I did adore that festival! But time marches on, and Spoutwood's popularity outstripped its infrastructure. The event was held on a private property that just got mangled by the crowd, especially in rainy weather.

So the fine minds behind Spoutwood sought a new venue, and they landed upon a nature preserve called Marshy Point, which is just outside Baltimore.

EXHIBIT A: MARSHY POINT NATURE CENTER

There's lots of mature woods in the nature preserve, as well as one of those visitor centers with exhibits. It's a beautiful place, give or take the pesky insects that like to burrow and bite (which are everywhere at this season).

In just three short months the Spoutwood/Marshy Point crew put together a Faerie Festival. That's way past record time. Fortunately, years of practice at Spoutwood -- and lots of saved props -- helped to make the new place feel like home.

EXHIBIT B: SAVED PROPS

It is customary for these new festival venues to draw fewer patrons for a few years, until word gets out. But Marshy Point, being about 50 miles from Spoutwood, was close enough that hordes of regulars descended. And then the newcomers arrived. Lots and lots and lots of them.

Some things were the same, like the Gathering of the Tribes. On Saturday, every stalwart of the Mountain Tribe was on the property. Some of them drove from Lancaster and Harrisburg! It was so touching!

EXHIBIT C: THE GANG'S ALL HERE

We also got our usual spate of newcomers, who were persuaded to shout "Mountain Mountain Mountain" at the right moment, after which they were duly awarded with incentives.

As at Spoutwood, we called the Quarters. As at Spoutwood, we shouted "Kubiando," our special faerie word. We sang the same hymns and performed the same silly dances. The bands entertaining us were the same. The drum circle was led by the same facilitator, in a delightfully shady glen.

Summer Solstice is not the same as May Day. It was hot. But the coordinator had set up a misting tent, which was an inspired idea. Almost all the kid stuff was in the deep shade.

The biggest difference between Spoutwood and Marshy Point was that the latter is a state-run entity. We therefore had park rangers and police officers in attendance, a somewhat jarring sight at first. Most of the rangers seemed comfortable with our particular brand of mayhem and attire, and probably by mid-day the cops had figured out that we aren't the sort to pick fights or break stuff.

I felt sorry for this little guy, who was trotted out like they always do with critters at nature preserves.

EXHIBIT D: NOT THE HAPPIEST CAMPER

As for me, being Mountain Tribe, I was rather concerned about the flat land surrounded by water. Spoutwood is in the Piedmont, a place of rolling hills. But after ten minutes, I was completely sold on Marshy Point. There's more land, more shade (not necessarily where you need it most, but still), and really pretty water views.

When the coast clears and the nature preserve sees how we pick up after ourselves ... and the ducats are counted ... I imagine Marshy Point will feel warm towards the Spoutwood faeries. I hope so, because I can see myself visiting that pretty property again and again.

So, a bright Kubiando for new beginnings and a charming landing place! I'm happy for everyone who has put Spoutwood on the calendar each and every year.

An Extra Fairie Festival!

In just a few short weeks, the Spoutwood Fairie Festival will be having its first ever Fall Fairie Fest. In honors of this milestone, I publish below a relic of Fairie Festivals past ... some fun that Olivia and I had when she was still The Spare.

Fairies in the Rain

Old-timers who visit this blog know that every year I go to the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm. Spoutwood is a charming property in south-central Pennsylvania, complete with a vintage farmhouse, adorable outbuildings, and a burbling brook. Every year on the first full weekend in May, the owners at Spoutwood open their land to anyone and everyone who puts their hands together for the faeries.

My daughter The Spare has attended this fest for a long, long time.

EXHIBIT A: SPARE AT HER FIRST FAIRIE FESTIVAL

EXHIBIT B: SPARE AT SPOUTWOOD 2017

She's a little taller these days.

The first inkling I had that this would be no ordinary Spoutwood was while driving there. It was raining. Not just raining, but pouring in great torrents. We all know what happens to burbling streams when they are visited by torrential rainstorms, right? So I was a little bit worried about the stream. But, when I got there, the rain stopped by some miracle. The brook mostly stayed in its banks and didn't rise like it had in the past.

Another obstacle remained, however. We all know what happens to spongy spring ground when it gets saturated, and lots of people walk over it, don't we? Maybe you're too young to remember Woodstock, but things do get muddy when a lot of people get together in moist weather to have fun.

Cold, rainy, muddy, and ... well-attended.

Many people sojourn to Spoutwood for happiness and healing. When we assembled on Friday, quite in the numbers, we all looked at each other and said, "Never mind the weather. We need this." Not saying every single person there was traumatized by the election, but every single faerie there was traumatized by the election, and They needed healing too. So we healed each other.

EXHIBIT C: ANNE ENJOYS SPOUTWOOD, 2017

This is me, telling the faeries that everything will be okay! Thank you Casie A. Chilcote, for the photo!

Long story short, the muddy conditions on the farm and in the parking grounds caused the festival to shut down on Sunday. It was so sad that I didn't get to see some of my friends and Mountain Tribe members, but safety first!

Seems like a good many events I've attended this year so far have been weather-challenged. Must say, though, that I will take a rained-out Spoutwood after the Women's March came off on a day that was way milder than seasonal, with not a drop of precip. Maybe the faeries had something to do with that. I'll have to ask Them.

Spoutwood Bound!

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," humble home of an average human being! Nothing exceptional about me ... except for the way I go on about buzzards.

Every year at Beltane, my daughter The Spare and I sojourn to Glen Rock, PA, where we lead the Mountain Tribe at the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm. We've been going to this festival for almost a decade.

Spoutwood is a beautiful spot, and everyone dresses up like faeries or creatures or free spirits. There's wonderful music, and food vendors, and drum circles, and ceremonies. As Mountain Tribe leader, Spare takes part in a midday ceremony each day that varies little from year to year. We do a lot of shouting, then we march in, then we sing some songs. We have a beautiful leather banner made by one of the artists at the Faire.

This is a picture from last year. The well-dressed fairy with the flute is my sister. Last year she came to the festival and stayed in our hotel room all three days. It was the first year I didn't have a good time. Or, I wouldn't say I didn't have a good time ... I just didn't have as much fun as usual.

The reason for that was that I found myself in a childhood dynamic with Sis. I really resented having her at my side for three days. She didn't want to do anything by herself, and at these things I always crave an opportunity to be alone in a crowd.

Growing up with a very ill mother, I often had to take care of my sister. So these days, even if I'm not really taking care of her, I am taking care of her in my mind. And it's a chore. Especially since, in her mind, I am supposed to take care of her.

Well. That was last year. I didn't invite Sis this year. I shouldn't need to -- it's an open event. She can come and go, and I would even be glad to see her there if I didn't have to care for her!

Just now I talked on the phone to Spare. She says she has a lot of school work to do and will need to curtail her hours at the festival. That's fine with me! I want to do some meditative drumming. I want to walk the land. I want to respectfully acknowledge the bored gods. Just me. Just me and a few thousand other people. Alone in a crowd.

Spoutwood Fairie Festival 2014

Well! I've had little to say about this year's Fairie Festival! Shame on me, it was three weeks ago!

I consider myself rather past the age to wear a tutu. I associate tutus with dance recitals that occurred back in the 1960s, when I was a tot. However, the Spoutwood Fairie Festival traditionally has a "tutu Friday," so I decided to join in.

One of my students made this extravagant confection entirely out of SAT prep books, with some High School Proficiency Test practice books thrown in for color contrast. I've never seen anything more creative, and as a social statement it was par excellence. I can't think of a better use for SAT prep books!

Now, I know for a fact that two of my three readers are female. So if you want a fantastic STEMpunk tutu for your next cosplay convo, send Miss Annie a message! The darling young lady who made my tutu is a junior right now, which means she'll be a senior next year. I want to help her set up an Etsy account ... so if you know anything about that, help me out here! I may break down and take in foster kittens from time to time, but I will never be able to craft my way out of  paper sack... so Etsy is not a domain I know much about.

Now that I've opened the photo album, what do you think of this one of The Spare?

That one there is by the professional photographer who does the festival. His name is George Skepton, and he's from Baltimore.

We had a swell time with Mountain Tribe this year.

As you can see, we got some beasties to join Mountain Tribe by offering them incentives. This is the lot of them. They couldn't take two steps without being photographed.

We enjoyed the music and the drumming, and the weather was chilly but not wet. I got to see some dear friends I don't otherwise get to see much, and I'm gently bonding with some of the folks there, particularly the Pagan folks. Next year I intend to go to their Beltane fire.

The best thing about the Spoutwood Fairie Festival for me is the opportunity to bond with my dragon, Big Red. Here he is with me, and boy oh boy do I love him! Not sure why that young girl had to muscle her way into the shot, but oh well.

Last one, with Sis and Spare and a lively faerie who just photobombed us ... what fun!

The smiling little fellow in plaid is our Mountain Tribe's very own Sprogling! If you live in the vicinity of this festival, and you have a young child, come and join us!

I love Spoutwood. Ever since I lost the farm on Polish Mountain, that property in Pennsylvania's piedmont has sort of taken some of the sting out of the loss. The people who own the property are incredibly hospitable when 10,000 people descend upon them for a long weekend.

Blessed be!

May Day: Because It Just Makes Sense

There are a couple of things I've never understood.

The first is: Why do we schedule a merry holiday at the darkest time of the year, and then expect everyone to be happy and gay? Christmas doesn't compute. Yes, let's get that Sun back and all such ... but lords a' leaping? Oh please.

The second is: Why do we schedule a romantic holiday in the middle of a snowy month when everyone has the flu? I'm talking about Valentine's Day, of course, and I know the answer to this one! It's a reason to go shopping, when otherwise people would be at home by the fire.

Now let's look at Beltane, aka May Day. Was there ever a more sensible time to get romantic and be happy and gay? I respectfully submit ... ah, nope. May Day has it going on. Let us count the ways:

1. The weather is perfect. Not too hot, not too cold.

2. Everything is coming back to life. There are flowers everywhere! The trees are robed in Mother Nature's first green!

3. There are no gifts to buy for anyone. With a sturdy pole and some bright ribbon, you're set.

4. The warmth and extra sunlight re-charge the ol' libido. Spin those Marvin Gaye albums, please!

5. You can dance outside without being bundled up in layers of fur.

6. The birds sing magnificently, like a symphony. At Christmas you get a miserable partridge and a couple of wretched turtle doves.  Contrast that to your garden jenny wren. Case closed.

7. The school year is almost over, which means evaluation season has passed. (Granted, this one is more personal than the rest, but it's a biggie.)

8. May is when all the cute baby animals appear in the fields. And in your back yard, for that matter. Look at that adorable baby possum rooting through your compost!

9. Azaleas

10. May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm

You knew this was about to become a shameless plug for the faeries, right? Well now, if you want a first-rate place to celebrate Beltane, with a fabulous maypole, a couple thousand people dressed like Celts/fae/steampunks/goths/hippies, you cannot go wrong with the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm in sunny Glen Rock, PA! Spare and I go every year. Spare is the leader of the Mountain Tribe.

If you live in the grand megalopolis that is called Philadelphia/Baltimore/Washington, you are within reach of this cheerful Beltane gathering. Please come and join Spare and me, and the faeries and the Nature Spirits as we dance in the May!

'Tis really really really the season to be jolly!

May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm 2013

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Story time! My story, that is. Annestory. Sometimes it just happens that I have to open my shirt and gaze into the ol' navel for the sake of future reminiscences. This is one of those times.

Every year my daughter The Spare and I go to the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm. There are more and more faerie festivals popping up all the time, but Spoutwood is one of the oldest and best situated for pleasing the fae.

If you pop around YouTube or any other image place, you'll find an abundance of video and photos of this annual event. What follows here is a written narrative, from one person's point of view. So maybe I'm doing this for more than just my own sagging memory. Maybe there's a niche for words about Spoutwood.

I had my little Dodge all packed to go last Thursday night when I got a call from Spare. Here's how it went:

Spare: Mom, please don't scream at what I'm about to tell you.

Anne: ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

Spare: It's good news. But you've got to promise not to scream.

Anne: I'll do my best.

Spare: I won a scholarship at my school for the child of someone who marches in the Philadelphia Mummer's Parade!

Anne: SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! *gets all teary*

Spare: Yes, pretty much I'm being rewarded because of your crazy antics.

Anne: *teary* All's right with the world!

The moment I clicked off the phone, I went to my Two Street Stompers treasure trove and fished out this year's suit, my slippers (Adidas spray painted gold), and my parasol. For good measure I pinned on the 2012 championship ribbon we got this year as well. I hadn't planned on rocking Spoutwood in my Mummer's suit, but I was too proud of dear Spare not to.

Anne's List of Portables to the May Day Fairie Fesival at Spoutwood Farm:

1. Stuffed dragon, "Big Red." Goes every year.
2. Wearable faeries, Puck, Chance, and Yule. They go every year.
3. Blindingly neon tie-dye t-shirts and yoga pants from Woodstock Trading Company. The pants were new this year.
4. Mountain hat, also from Woodstock. Pin on hat, "My Heart, My Soul, and My Grave are in Appalachia." Goes every year.
5. Druid cloak. Goes sometimes in cooler weather, glad I had it this year.
6. Money. Because money spent at Spoutwood helps artists, performers, and an organic farm.
7. Drip-dye camisole made by Spare.
8. Comfortable sandals.
9. Comfortable boots.
10. Quartz crystals. Take them every year.
11. Mountain tribe flag made by Pam and Rita Kryglik. Second year.
12. Star Wars Day sign, made by me and Extra Chair.
13. Drum.
14. Sunscreen.

DAY ONE, JUST ANNE. WEATHER: MAGNIFICENT

*Sat at a standstill on the Pennsylvania Turnpike for 30 minutes, feeling sorry for whoever had the accident that caused the backup (note the Spoutwood frame of mind already asserting itself).
*Driving through the verdant Pennsylvania countryside on the way to Spoutwood, I noticed a dead deer at the edge of the road. A portent of deity?
*Arrived one heartbeat shy of missing the opening event at which I had to represent Spare and Mountain Tribe. Had to barter my way into the festival by leaving my Mummer parasol as surety.
*Bid hello from the Mountain Tribe on behalf of Spare. Nick of time.
*Looked out over the landscape and cried for joy at being there.
*Retrieved parasol and paid for a 3-day pass.
*Ate lunch with Michael Bull.
*Drum circle with King Trolland. Forever after known as Drum and Mum.
*Said hello to vendors, old and new. This year Cucina Aurora was there! Squeee!
*Party at the Hampton Inn where we stay. All visitors, performers, vendors, and volunteers were invited. This was a lovely way to get to talk to otherwise very busy people.
*Spare, Mr. J and Spare's friends arrived.

DAY TWO, ANNE, SPARE, and MANY FRIENDS. WEATHER: BEYOND MAGNIFICENT

*Nice buffet breakfast at the Hampton Inn. I'm too old for camping, and Spare is pretty prissy.
*Driving through the verdant Pennsylvania countryside on the way to Spoutwood. Wait! What do I see? A DEER CARCASS COVERED WITH VULTURES!!!!! Oh, blessed festival that is sanctioned by Sacred Thunderbird!
*Arrived at Spoutwood full of Mountain Sass.
*Greeted incoming guests with Star Wars Day signs, to whit
                     Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi
                     You're our only hope
                     May the Fourth
                     Be with You
(Okay, nerds, I know I got it wrong. But it's the thought that counts.)
*SISTER! With her cutest dog!
*Mountain Tribe friends! Wow, we are getting clicky! Big Red makes friends for keeps! Maebius and his fantastic son, Jeff, Sis, Jeff's friends, Spare's friends, and (as always) a few people strolling past who were offered the bribe incentive of a token if they would march with Mountain Tribe.
*Tribe Ceremony to Crown the Spoutwood King and Queen. This was Spare's first year as leader. Oh, my three readers, if you only could have seen her strut! In her shiny white Winter Faerie tutu, she's the perfect counterpart for the leader of the River Tribe, who smears himself with mud from head to toe. She was so poised and beautiful. The mountains are proud to call her theirs.
*Drum circle
*Musical interlude -- watched Telesma with Sister, danced to Cu Dubh with Sister.
*Healthy hot dog and smoothie
*Drum circle
*Closing ceremony, where everyone who cared to said how long they had been coming to the festival, and why they like it. I said it was good to have a farm to come home to, now that I'm no longer an Appalachian landowner. Now Spoutwood is my farm.
*Supper with Spare and her posse at Ruby Tuesday, literally the only restaurant approaching real food in the general vicinity.
*Nightcap with the sprightly Bibi!

DAY THREE, ANNE, SPARE, AND EVEN MORE FRIENDS. WEATHER: GLORIOUS

*Caught a set of Cu Dubh before Tribal Ceremony.
*Mountain Tribe! Maebius and Sis not there, Pam and Rita there, Jeff and friends there again, Spare's posse taking photos and toting banners! Spare and the other Tribe leaders each got a flute. They are challenged to learn a song (or bribe encourage some musical friend to do it) for next year's ceremony. Whew. Sis plays every kind of flute known to humankind and the Bored Gods! River Tribe boasting they have two professional flute players ... well, I'm sure they're no match for the piccolo soloist for the Williamsport Community Marching Band!
*Hugged the Moss Man.
*Pictures and chat in the soft spring grass with Pam and Rita.
*Another nice healthy hot dog! I'm gonna live to be 100!
*Final drum circle. Some dude proposed marriage to his sweetheart in the middle of the dancing throng. (And for the record, this was the very first year I had my own drum. Heir gave me a drum for Christmas, a little, portable bongo drum. So sweet of her, and the perfect instrument for someone like me who is challenged by the idea of counting to four.)
*Stood on the hillside with Spare, hugging and crying because the festival was over.
*Drove back to the city via Pennsylvania Turnpike. Dropped Spare and roomie off in the city, took Spare's other friend home to Snobville.

There's a magic word that everyone says at Spoutwood. It's "Kubiando." The word is original to the festival and was coined by a little girl who went there, many years ago. The faeries gave this word to this festival so we would all have a way to channel great energy from the Earth into ourselves and out to the sky. So we say "Kubiando" a lot at Spoutwood. Sometimes in large groups, sometimes just as a greeting, sometimes as a cheer.

There are other Beltane observances at Spoutwood as well.

• Love your Mother.
• Love the faeries.
• Be kind to yourself.
• Be kind to the Earth.
• Be kind to each other.

Now I will finish this narrative with a thanks to Rob and Lucy Wood, Spoutwood's owners, for throwing open their lovely, stream-fed farmland to 10,000 guests every year. May Kubiando be with you two wonderful people, and to everyone who volunteers their time and trouble for the festival. Those who work on behalf of the fae will be rewarded by the fae. So mote it be.

To friend this blog on Facebook, search The Gods Are Bored. We're still learning how to tweet, not ready for prime time yet.

Getting Lost in the Shuffle!

Well, my goodness, here it is only four days until the Spoutwood May Day Fairie Festival, and I haven't said a word about it! I didn't even invite Mushu and Grape, last year's most popular dragons! I haven't  gotten out my garb ... The only thing I did was to put the Mountain Tribe banner in the trunk of the car (fearing I would forget it).

Part of the reason I haven't said much about this year's Fairie Festival is that it will be very bittersweet for me. Don't tell anyone ... shhh ... but I'm going to resign as Tribe leader after this year.

You can't talk me out of this. It's not ethical to be leader of the Mountain Tribe when you live in the tidal flats and own no property in the mountains. Say what you want about the mountains being in my heart and my heritage. It's still not the same.

Also, I'm just getting to a time in life when I don't want any responsibilities outside the enormous burden of school and family. I've ranted about this before. There comes a time in the life of every sane person when they just say NO to volunteering.

Fairie Festival isn't like the Mummer's Parade, where you show up for one drunken rehearsal, pay for a costume you don't have to make, and spend a day pie-eyed in the streets of Philly.

It also isn't like Buzzard Day, which consists of renting a costume and spending three hours strutting around in it.

Fairie Festival is more like performing ... and serious performing at that. There's a deep spirit there that must be taken seriously.

Well, that should tell you all you need to know. "Serious" is not in my vocabulary. It sends me into blue screen. Go ahead. Say it. Tell me, "Anne you have to be serious about this." And then watch me curl up into a fetal position, whimpering for my blankie.

Spare has been my co-leader for the past three years. But next May she will be in finals week ... college. Wouldn't be right to continue without her.

So, if you're in the neighborhood of Glen Rock, PA, and you want to join the Mountain Tribe for the swan song of Anne and Spare, please make yourself known! Look for the neon tie-dye on Saturday and a more muted robe on Sunday. 2012 will forever be the year I lost my farm. Moving forward, I'll be in the Tribe, but it deserves a leader who walks the walk.

Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm 2011

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" I think all of the photos of the Fairie Fest this year have filtered in, so here's a little pictorial for those of you who are thinking of coming next year. I would like to thank Frater Servitor Lucem, Pam and Rita, and a host of other photographers for doing so much great clicking!

As leader of the Mountain Tribe, I had to bring the Stone of Destiny. Can't carry the original (and wouldn't want to move it from its current locale), so I got this one from behind the house on Polish Mountain. Yes, it was heavy.

Spare and I with dragons Big Red and Mushu. Mushu traveled all the way from Washington State to be at the festival, so I don't want any excuses from you Marylanders next year!

Big Red and I always do a little storytelling gig on Friday in the Pocket Fairy Booth.

I have to speak into the mic. It helps that the guy holding it is a fabulous person.

We had to make a sign with our Mountain Tribe chant on it. Ours won the prize as most pathetic.

Oh, these small ones! I don't know how to enlarge them. This is all the Tribe leaders doing the traditional La Tooshie dance. No Fairie Festival is complete without it.

 For my money, this was the most beautiful faerie on the site.

And here's dear Bibi with our REAL banner, made by an expert craftsman. We also had a beautiful tablecloth, made by Pam and Rita. I would say the Mountain Tribe did pretty well for itself.

Facebook has a May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood group with a gazillion photos posted. These are just a few to help me navel gaze on rainy days!

My Man Jeff

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," Mother's Day edition 2011! Spare made breakfast, and she also made a beautiful video for me with pictures from throughout my whole life. It was hugely touching. As for Heir ... hmmm ... Heir ... still at college, not even a phone call. Maybe later.

Just now I was out tending Shrine of the Mists. Seemed like a nice way to honor my Mother.

Every time I visit Polish Mountain I bring back more stone for my Shrine. This batch of stone just added is extra special, since it first attended the Fairie Festival ... and I'm pretty sure it's Marcellus shale. So the Shrine is all dressed up and looking beautiful. It just needs the new Orangina bottle to be complete.

This is a picture of My Man Jeff. I only know him as My Man Jeff. Twice now he has come to the Fairie Festival and joined the Mountain Tribe. And two years in a row he has brought water for me in an Orangina bottle.

Last year at the festival, it was hot as all get out, and Jeff might have saved me from heat stroke with his gift. This year wasn't as hot, but I still was glad for the water.

Jeff does not have a Facebook. For all I know he's a faerie who materializes for the festival and then drifts away again beyond the veil. Except I have a feeling he's mortal, because this year he had a pleasant young female friend with him (not pictured).

I put Jeff's Orangina bottles on the Shrine because he is probably the very most random person I call "friend." We know nothing about each other except that we are in Mountain Tribe at the Spoutwood Fairie Festival.

Here's to My Man Jeff, magick in a small yearly dose. One day a year we are happy together. I pray that the other 364 he's just as serene.

So might it be.

The Company You Keep

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," dedicated silly Paganism since 2005! Some people only think they hear the Horned One whispering in their ears. I'm taking it to a whole new level, people. Here I am, taking His advice on how best to proceed in this and every other dimension!

Today's sermon: Is it bad to be bad?

The trouble with many people is that they can't distinguish between bad and evil. Any rule broken, any convention challenged, it's evil. Having a great time in a very rowdy way? Evil! Saying what's on your mind, even if it's an inconvenient truth? Evil! We should be serious. Uphold all standards of social respectability. And to whom do we look for those standards of respectability? Why, nice, church-going middle class white people, of course!

BAMP! Wrong.

Suppose we stop the clock for a day or two and allow The Horned One to call the shots. See, I know this Guy. He's a misunderstood bored god. Yes, He is going to encourage you to be bad. But no, most emphatically no, He is not going to want you to be evil. He wants you to have the time of your life, without harming yourself or anyone else. Yes, sadly, he wants you to overlook what might happen to the quality of the upholstery on your favorite ottoman. Stains happen. But they're stains, not sins.

People think the Horned One likes to lead young innocents astray. In my experience, there's no need of a deity to do the pushing when it comes to lust, especially in May. On the other hand, it's convenient to have Someone to blame it on when you creep off into the woods with a cutie. Devil made me do it, dontcha know.

Truth is, the Horned One doesn't make you do anything. He encourages you to enjoy yourself. My friends, our time of life is short. Let us all have fun being bad! And heck, if we stay outdoors we won't even threaten the purity of the chintz!

I'm Cool with Solomon

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" In my previous post I complained about having to read from "Song of Solomon" at the Fairie Festival this weekend, and no less than 15 bored deities showed up to set me straight (along with my enlightened readers). "Song" is all about sex, and it's very ancient, so tra la la!

Now it's time to sally forth to the festival! Here's a partial list of stuff I have already packed in the car:

1. Beautiful tablecloth for Mountain Tribe, made from scratch by Pam and Rita (thereby saving my sorry hide).
2. Three bags stuffed dragons
3. Two large rocks, a box of small ones (all but one Marcellus shale)
4. Framed Terrence McKenna quote with art by Seitou (pretty proud of this ... waiting to see how many people ask who Seitou is)
5. Shameless plea for membership in Mountain Tribe (you must have a pulse)
6. TARDIS
7. Picture of Big Red
8. Big Red
9. Picture of me and Spare (Spare will be arriving by separate transportation)
10. Banner with tribal chant on it, made by Spare
11. "My Heart, My Soul, and My Grave are in Appalachia" pin
12. Mushu and Grape (dragons from Seattle out on a spree)
13. bag of Lucky Trolls
14. Basket of purple ribbons
15. 300 safety pins and bowl to put them in


Here's what I have still left to pack:

1. Outfit #1: Neon tie-dye, red skirt, mountain hat
2. Outfit #2: Neon tie-dye tunic, capri leggings, hiking boots
3. Outfit #3: Will be a combination of above
4. Outfit #4 for Tribe games: Dalek t-shirt, shorts, sneakers
5. Most important, therefore most likely to be forgotten: Green Man earrings, Puck, and Chance

Assorted socks, underwear, and toiletries, Advil and Zyrtec (been shoving those puppies down)

It's not so bad taking all this stuff with me, but the thought that I'll have to shove it all back in the car on Sunday and drive home, then go straight into work the following day ... whoa, gonna need some good faeries on this one.

House in Faerie and Dragon Overload

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," just a few short days east of the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm!


I sure hope I'm feeling better by that time, because I think I've had two different bouts of flu this week, plus pinkeye. Today I scuttled my plans to see my friends in Allentown, and just sitting here at the computer is exhausting work.


Oh, but the festival preparations continue!


In times past, leaders of Tribes were not asked to bring anything but themselves and little tokens to give out to anyone who wanted to join the tribe. I thought I had finally volunteered for something that would ask little and give a lot.


But I'm doomed to the "say yes syndrome." With about a dozen members of the Mountain Tribe spread over three states, we have been asked to:


1. Prepare a table display explaining all about the Mountain Tribe (partially finished with the great help of Pam and Rita).


2. Create a big sign with a chant on it that our Tribe will have to chant. (Spare is working on this now.)


3. Learn the chant.


4. Be more systematic about the tokens we dole out.


5. Learn the chant.


6. Run games for kids. (That's why I needed the dragons. I still need more.)


7. There was also a rehearsal that I missed last weekend because I was sick, and it rained.


So we went from needing nothing more than boffo costumes, to needing to put on a quarter of a pageant! Faeries help me and Spare, and Pam and Rita, and Bibi as we try to prop up this venture!

I've Got To Do ... WHAT????

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Boy, was I ever grumpy the night of that beautiful full moon! Well, I got over it, and went out in the lovely moonlight, and thanked the bored Goddess Luna for being so full so late. I might be wrong (probably am), but doesn't this make Easter as late as it ever can be?

Next to being Buzzy at the East Coast Vulture Festival, my second-favorite yearly role is co-leader (with Spare) of the Mountain Tribe at the Spoutwood Fairie Festival. This year will be our third anniversary of receiving this honor.

Ah, but there's always a catch. Right?

For our first two years, we Mountain Tribe maniacs only had to show up and act rowdy. This year the festival wants to expand the role of the Tribes.

And. That. Means. I. Have. To. Make. A. Fancy. Table.

So that visitors will know what the Mountain Tribe is, and whether or not they belong in it.

Those three of you who have read "The Gods Are Bored" these many years will recall that if hot glue guns are involved, Anne bows out. The very word "craft" makes me break out in hives. Just ask any church lady who ever asked me to make centerpieces for some churchy event. I'm sure my clueless crafting is still the talk of the Bible Circle.

This new Spoutwood challenge is not just some thing I can fudge, either. Some of the other Tribe leaders are professional artists who can hot-glue letters and flowers to a fabric sign from 50 yards away. I don't feel particularly competitive with them, but all the same, it will look pretty shabby if my table contains a TARDIS and little else.

Adding to this, Spare and I are not in agreement on what to do with the table. That's bound to happen when one leader is in her 50s and the other is 17. We do agree on a TARDIS. Beyond that we go our separate ways.

Life throws us these challenges, though, and one must sigh and rise to them. It's the burden of leadership, I guess.

Anyway, over the next week we'll be having a discussion here at "The Gods Are Bored" about the new, crafty, artistic, eye-popping, and otherwise fabulous Mountain Tribe table. Your input is desperately needed. Desperately. Needed. Think of your input as what it would take to talk Anne off the ledge of some high-rise building in Gotham City.

The Fairie Festival is April 29, 30, and May 1. If you have a vision, please share it. If you can make things like paper-mache mountains, I will be your slave until the end of time.

If the Second Amendment covered glue guns, I would be out there lobbying to have it removed from our Constitution. *sweaty palms* Oh! Glue guns! Calgon, take me away!

Ain't We Got Fun?

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where we are relentlessly dedicated to fun! "O gentlemen, the time of life is short. To spend that shortness basely is too long."

Shut up, Shakespeare, before I hit you with a water balloon!

On the count of three, everyone's going to salute William Shakespeare with a Bronx cheer! Ready? One ... two ... three ...


PFFFFTTTTTTFFFTTTTTTT!!!

I am seriously thinking of starting my own religion. Rule number one would be not to take anything seriously except the sanctity of human life. Beyond that, anything goes!

This musing is brought about by a change in leadership for the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood Farm.

I got an email yesterday from someone who has taken up some slack left by the departure of Bard Andrew (see sidebar). The new arrival found numerous grammatical errors in the Spoutwood site, particularly in the area of its Tribes. This same scholar had plenty to say about Bard Andrew's take on Celtic spirituality -- from spelling errors to major quibbles about the British Isles and some such.

This same editor suggested that we in the Mountain Tribe should strike the "Meka leka hi, meka hiney ho" from our Mountain Tribe chant, because -- get this, readers -- it must be an "inside joke."

Gauntlet thrown, "Gods Are Bored" takes arms.

If you were thinking of coming to the Spoutwood Fairie Festival and becoming part of the Mountain Tribe, please take heed of the following scholarly arrangements:

1. Be very, very well-versed in "Pee Wee's Playhouse." All hillbillies love it. Don't try to join our tribe without knowing the exact upholstery pattern on Cherry.

2. New this year: You must also have watched every episode of "Dr. Who," Doctors 10 and 11 ... and you'd better be pretty well-versed in Eccleston as well. There will be a quiz. And the Mountain Tribe MAY have a Tardis. If you question the authenticity of hillbillies in a Tardis, you are a HERETIC.

3. DFTBA. Don't know what that means? You are inauthentic. Go and spend 15 years researching archaic Celtic lore (and another six months on the latest internet banter), or you don't qualify for Mountain Tribe.

Bamp! Just kidding.

Ha ha, la di dah! Whoever edited the tribal page for Spoutwood doesn't get faeries at all! Faeries want to be up on the latest, greatest, most amazing, and -- most importantly -- FUN innovations! Do they care if you spell "faerie" as "fairy?" Oh HELL no! Every morning, every evening, ain't we got fun!?!

Spare and I are the leaders of the Mountain Tribe. No one can dispute my authenticity. My ancestors marched to the Whiskey Rebellion from the mountains of Western Maryland. And as a card-carrying hillbilly, I make the decisions for the Mountain Tribe.

We will say "Meka leka hi, meka hiney ho." That is not an inside joke. Pee Wee is a friend to Faerie.

We will wear fezzes, because Dr. Who likes fezzes. Since when is a British science fiction creation a hillbilly? Oh, since never -- but in Cumberland, Maryland there's a fraternity called the Ali Ghan Shrine ... and those dudes wear fezzes!

We at "The Gods Are Bored" are serious in our support for scholarship. We proudly count a few college professors among our readership. But those professors would immediately recognize the difference between innovative sweet fun and strict adherence to some sort of rule of propriety. The former belongs at Fairie Festivals. The latter belongs in books, papers, and in serious stuff.

We are not serious here. A faerie named Puck lives in our midst, and he has told us point-blank that Shakespeare never wrote a word for anything but money or sex. Did you really believe otherwise?

Glen Rock Fae Trailer

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Well, let's see. What's new in the world? One percent of Americans control about half of the wealth, the Westboro Baptist Church is standing before the Supreme Court defending its right to shout at grieving military families (in person and online), Mr. Bigwand is still a six-foot spout of gushing ego, and I'm dead beat from another day of teaching!

Time for a little re-adjustment.

Some time in 2011 a film producer will be releasing a documentary about the Spoutwood Fairie Festival. Here is the trailer. If you live anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard, and you watch this and think, "Oh, I don't want to go to that," then where do you want to go?

Faeries. Lots and lots of faeries. Enough said.

http://www.glenrockfae.com/Video/Pages/The_First_Trailer.html