I havn't blogged for a while been involved in making loads of new runes for the Viking Festival I am about to do In Weston-Super-Mare. It amazes me the amount of history the town has, going back to the Great viking Army. Ubba ( Ragnar Lodbrok's son) was killed in the battle of Brent knoll, just a few miles away from the town. Guthrum, his cousin, was defeated at Edington (on the Somerset levels) and taken to Wedmore to be Baptized into the Christian faith. As I look out over the cliffs of Weston Wood I can imagine the Norsemen camped out below. All these events and there echoes dwell within my sacred enclosure.

My job on this weekend is to be a Norse Shaman reading runes from my cauldron but most importantly, to raise an interest in the Odinic ways and allow the old Gods to speak again. The town will be full of holiday makers, from all walks of life.... I have played this role at many events in the US but those were always Scandinavian or spiritual gatherings, where most of those attending had a genuine interest in the subject... Strangely enough, here in England there is less desire to know one's history, it is because
we are surrounded by it every day, layer upon layer buried beneath us.

I will cast my runes, spin my yarns and weave the web of the sagas into the hearts and mind of those who will attend. Whether I am listened to or ignored as a lunatic is up to the Norns. The stories will be told and the word of Odin will be heard once again on the banks of the Severn estuary, just as it was 1200 years ago.