…for I will give unto thee a cauldron, the property of which is, that if one of thy men be slain to-day, and be cast therein, to-morrow he will be as well as ever he was at the best, except that he will not regain his speech.

It’s a pity The Mabinogion (which, if you weren’t already aware of, is a work of Welsh mythology… which was written in a language rooted in Brythonic… which takes us back, again, to the Pretanī) isn’t more widely read and considered a resource for imagination in youth… perhaps as a focal point for introspection, and critical for grasping the concepts of analogy, metaphor, and symbolism in early creative writing. Perhaps also for finding something personal in daily living.

In preparing my cast iron kettle this morning… filling it with water, fruit, herbs, and certain roots, my intent was for fragrance to permeat a few of my rooms. But, considering everything involved, is it actually more significant than just satisfying the olfactory? Maybe it isn’t; but perhaps it could be.

Obviously, I don’t just toss a bunch of stuff into a pot on the stove, and it suddenly gives off fragrance.

After I wake on cold winter mornings and plan on being home most of the day, I start a fire in my fireplace before moving on to the wood stove in another portion of the house. The two wood fires typically do pretty well in giving a balance of heat in the house. Yet, the location of the wood stove is different. It holds more meaning. For one, it is in one of the rooms to which I occasionally like to retreat to read. With three sides of the room fitted with picture windows, it also offers an opportunity for me to just sit and enjoy the living, breathing outside, but not be chilled to the bone in doing so. So, it is in a spot in which I recharge, in one way or another.

On the wood stove sits a cast iron kettle. Not just any cast iron kettle, but one which I remember from my youth, being at my grandparents’ house. It passed later to my mom, and then to me So, it holds a special power for me, in that it is a focal point for reminiscing.

I spend my time carefully loading the wood stove, knowing exactly what works and what doesn’t, in order to get a good fire going (and, hopefully, not to fill the room with smoke as it starts). Once I’m done with that, I reach for the kettle. Not only with the intent of adding ingredients to generate a wonderful scent, but as a source to keep moisture in the air as the room warms.

Taking the kettle to the kitchen, I add the water, turn to my spices, refrigerator, and freezer for a combination of ingredients that I find… regenerating and warm. It depends on what’s available, and if I want to put everything in, or just a portion… but my base go-to items include thin-sliced Orange or Lemon, cranberries, cloves, cinnamon sticks, carefully shredded Ginger root, perhaps a sprig of rosemary or lemon balm from my garden, or a sprig of evergreen from a tree in the yard. All are selected for the reward of scent, but I now wonder if, perhaps subconsciously, I’ve selected these things for health, as well as their properties and meaning.

In essence, have I not, in a way, created in this space, in this kettle, with these ingredients, my own Pair Dadeni? It does not bring me back from the dead, but in the energy of the space, from the fire, to the kettle, to the ingredients, to the health properties, meaning, and the very fragrance it yields, have I not wielded a number of things to reinvigorate myself and the space in which I move in the morning, and possibly, through a good part of the day? In a way, have I not symbolically resurrected myself through the gifts of the cauldron to go about my day with such positive energy as I interact with others?

Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve given this much thought to that chain of events, and now, having laid it all out in print, certainly I will never go through the process again without thinking about it in this way.

“Magic”… or at least the potential for it… is everywhere…