I visit #72

Finally, the answers I have been waiting for. What is going on in the empty, treed lot next door?

The property owner (hippy) called me over one day to invite me to an Erntedankfest party. That is Germany's equivalent of Thanksgiving, but this would be different. These would be hippes, and no men were invited.

I was thrilled to be invited to a party next door, after hearing so many over the fenceline, and wondering about that weird altar thing they set up, and what's with the teepees??

I brought homemade mexican salsa, with tomatoes from my garden, heavy on the cilantro, not the garlic! with plain tortilla chips (which cost a lot here!). I also made Nestle Toll House chocolate chip cookies again, to show them a bit of America (which incidentally, these cookies are a big hit with hippy women).

The food was laid out on a plank hanging between two pine trees. Baasha stood on the other side, looking in, wondering. Most of the food was vegetarian.

Other ladies showed up, and I noticed that they all had something with them, a bunch of flowers or something...what was it?


Each guest brought an addition to what they called a Mandala. It was a spiral of flowers made by each guest. I was not aware of this tradition, so I only took a picture of it.








We sat around drinking tea, and introduced ourselves. These are ladies with knowledge of the history of my new home. They told me things I had not known about my house, such as the two families living here with no toilet, and goats living in what is now our entryway. Poplar trees that had to be cut down from our hang, because these old trees are dangerous and worthless.

Finally I got a tour of the lot I call #72 (so it is known in the state's property book).


First another hanging plank with candles burning..










and an odd knife with feathers...











then a hanging picture frame, which seems to be a German tradition, not a hippy one...









then a homemade toilet, a hole in the ground with a chair with the seat cut out, and a shovel...










then the sweat lodge where they practice native American traditions. I thought the sunset looked pretty beyond. Just on the other side of the brush pile next to this sweat lodge is my barn. That is why we sometimes hear quiet things goin on next to Baasha's stall.








A lady there told me how jealous she is that I have a native American friend, how she wished she had one, she is so enamored with them. I explained the sweat lodge ritural of smudging with sage, and she had never heard of it. Here is the fire circle.








Here is the yarn thing that I had found last winter, and I thought it was beautiful. The owner showed it to me. (Yes, here she is, the one I have referenced so often in this blog. She what I mean about her fashion sense? She always looks ready for a fashion shoot for Urban Outfitters.)






Finally I got to see the altar. The thing next to our fence that had made me curious. She said it is an "Honor Altar" to her mother, where they leave gifts for her. Today they left bits of porcelan, and a pearl necklace. From my yard I had seen an apple and a rabbit figure, and knew it was an altar of some sort.







Candles everywhere lighting up the total darkness, we settled around the campfire where our hostess made Wunsch Punsch..."wish punch", a sweet ginger and orange punch that she cooked over the fire. That was really yummy! She asked us to all make a wish to Mother Earth before we took a cup. I did not have a prayer for Mother Earth, nor Father Moon. They sang songs to both of them, while making prayers, and drinking punch. I became gradually more uncomfortable with the situation. Baasha's stall was just beside us, I wished to escape over the stinging nettle hedge and join him. I thought a rush through a solid wall of stinging nettles would be more comfortable than sitting there any longer.

I stayed as long as polite, after 4 other guests had left. I told her what a lovely party it was.

The best part was watching the satellites* mingle with stars over the fire.

I do appreciate that they are camping directly next to my barn. That makes it a special place for relaxing with nature.

They are nice people, but definitely odd. I would have appreciated this oddness in my 20s. I'm better now.
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* Merriam Webster's (m-w.com) definition of satellite is as follows:

1 : a hired agent or obsequious follower : minion
2 : a celestial body orbiting another of larger size

Don't ya think they got those mixed up? Dictionary.com got it right.