Recently I discovered an old rune song in the Finnish archives which speaks of the spinning of new linen thread to end the last few weeks of winter by preparing a garment. This new garment signifies the handwork of winter during the darkest time of the year.
This old rune song jarred memories from growing up with my fiber-filled Gotlander/Swedish family. My grandmother, an accountant by day, was a yarn store owner on the weekends and also taught weaving. My mother was a seamstress and wedding dress designer who had her own studio, and then there was her mother, also a seamstress and brilliant knitter.
Every year towards the end of winter, the weekend before Semlor Tuesday aka Mardi Gras or Shrove Tuesday, my family would be collecting all of the yarn and thread they had spun. They would look at it closely deciding how much they had so they could decide what they would make with it these last few weeks of winter.
The new thread or yarn made into new clothes or fabric symbolizes the beginning of a new season and our growth after a long dark winter. Though these practices have now been incorporated into Christian traditions, they are way much older and have their roots deep into ancient Scandinavia. The finishing touch the women in my family would make at the end of their fiber figuring would be to take three strands of yarn or thread and twist them together. They would tie a knot at the top and lay it on the table or hang it by the door and say, “For the Old Ladies.”
Who are the Old Ladies you ask? The Norns, the women who weave our fate.
The interior seeds we planted in Autumn have been growing. To celebrate the New Thread Moon I decided to multi-task. I would learn this rune song while working with metal threads to create ceremonial jewelry. I will need both the song and the jewelry as my path unfolds.
The New Thread Moon is a time of being and becoming. What have you been sowing these Winter months? Wishing you a gentle and creative New Thread Moon.