Pancake Day
There is a particular kind of afternoon light that arrives in late winter, and in our house it shines through and hits our window stars and rainbow sun catchers and it feels like our home is giving a gentle ode to Spring.
Living here on the land in community has slowly reshaped the way we mark the seasons. Here we follow the Rudolf Steiner’s philosophy and the celebrations feel less like dates in a diary and more like gentle invitations. Shrove Tuesday is one of those.
We are not a religious family, and yet I have come to cherish the quiet wisdom behind this day. Traditionally it stands at the threshold of Lent, a time of giving something up, of clearing space. Even without following its religious roots, the essence feels aligned with the life we are shaping for our family.
This year, instead of keeping Pancake Day within the walls of our own home, we opened the door a little wider which when living in community is an easy thing to do! We invited some of the other children who live here to join us, to gather in the kitchen and make the pancakes together. It was a small feast and it was joyous!
The beautiful thing about living here is that the children are woven into the fabric of one another’s homes and they feel like one big family. Having everyone in the house always puts a smile on my face, from the muddy shoes piled up by the door, to someone knowing where the flour is kept, the eggs, those taller reaching the higher shelves and passing items down to the little ones!
Eggs were cracked with varying degrees of success, milk generously poured and together we began to stir. Older children steadied the bowl while younger ones concentrated in the slow turning of the mixture. When lumps appeared, we kept going, patient and unhurried, watching as the batter gradually softened into something smooth and pourable.
Butter sizzled gently, the edges lifted and curled and the kitchen filled with that unmistakable scent which signalled that something simple and good is on its way, and that daddy was about to demonstrate ‘the flip’!
The table felt full, not only with food but with presence, conversation and heart.
With the children now growing older it feels important that we speak about why days like this exist at all. I told them that long ago it marked the beginning of a season called Lent, when people would give something up for a while. We talked about how choosing to have less of something can sometimes make space for something better.
Shrove Tuesday, for us, was not defined by tradition in the strictest sense but by intention. It was an afternoon where we came together around something ordinary and in doing so, we made it something that felt connective and special. These are the moments that shape us, almost without our noticing. A bowl passed from hand to hand, a table wide enough for many and the understanding that simple things, tended together, are often the ones that hold us close.
Written & Photographs by Katie Williams @apocketofforest
