The burning ship funeral of Wee Little Snowman.

His life started and was all over in 3 hours. 3 days later we picked up what was left of him: tiny bit of sculptured carrot, 1 twig that was his arm and a peppercorn that was his eye. Some people get buried with less bits.

When I invited people over to the funeral I said to them there are 3 reasons for it. 1. I liked Wee Snowman, he was cute and I forgot the Winter Pygmalion's rule ("Never get attached to your Snowman"). 2. Because it's a SF0 task, and a cool one as I like Beowulf and it would give me an excuse to set fire to a longship. 3. Its the First days of spring and a chance for Wolfguard to be a community. Whatever your spirituality or religion is, at the core of practising it is the idea to to something together as a community. That is where the strength lies.

Our re-enactment group has been going through tough times. When I first joined years back I remember the feeling of community we had. That feeling disappeared somewhere in the last couple of years, as the cracks within the group spread. I am hoping that doing this "spring offering" together will give people a chance to heal and strengthen the little sense of community we still have left. After all the group's totem is the Wolf, and wolves are a pack.

Before the fire I asked everyone attending to write something on a piece of card. That piece would be stowed underdeck (with the ballast stones that kept the ship upright in the wind) and burned. On it I told they could write some event they wanted to bury and forget or the name of someone they wanted to honour and remember or maybe even a wish they wanted to send off. Whatever they wrote was, it was personal and it got sent off in a manner befitting a King.

So on the high hill, overlooking their training grounds a group of modern day Vikings gathered around a stone pedestal to set on its way in the form of smoke and ashes the wee little longship of the Wee Little Snowman, to say bye to the winter and hello to the spring. To wish for the continuation of their community and to just have a giggle... and pancakes.

"Ongunnon þa on beorge bælfyra mæst
wigend weccan; wudurec astah,
sweart ofer swioðole, swogende leg
wope bewunden (windblond gelæg),
oðþæt he ða banhus gebrocen hæfde,
hat on hreðre. "

"Then on the hill that hugest of balefires
the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose
black over blaze, and blent was the roar
of flame with weeping (the wind was still),
till the fire had broken the frame of bones,
hot at the heart. "

Comments by Yoda and Majyk to follow: