National Wayne Day, celebrated on March 26 each year, is a fun and quirky holiday dedicated to people named Wayne and honoring the individuals who share this name. It is a day to celebrate the unique qualities, contributions, and stories of those named Wayne, whether they are well-known celebrities, public figures, or everyday people.

History of National Wayne Day
The origins of National Wayne Day are not entirely clear, but it seems to have emerged as a way for people named Wayne to celebrate their name and its significance in various contexts. The day has grown in popularity, especially among those who enjoy unique and offbeat holidays. While no major historical event directly links to this day, it serves as an opportunity for people to celebrate their name and share their experiences with others.

Goals of the Day
National Wayne Day aims to achieve several key goals:

• To celebrate people named Wayne and their contributions to society.
• To promote the value of personal identity and the uniqueness of names.
• To create a sense of community among people named Wayne and their admirers.
• To encourage lighthearted fun and recognition of lesser-known holidays.

On this most Welsh of days, when daffodils bloom, dragons stir, and even the leeks stand tall with pride. We raise a toast (of water, if we’re being strangely saintly) to Dewi Sant, our patron of piety, poetry, and peculiar diets.

Born in the 6th century on a stormy Pembrokeshire clifftop (because of course he was), St David lived a life so austere he made monks look like party animals. He preached, he prayed, he founded monasteries, and he famously lived on leeks and water. No beer. No meat. No nonsense (AKA Insanity). Just spiritual grit and a dove on his shoulder.

Legend says that when he spoke at Llanddewi Brefi, the ground itself rose beneath him so all could hear, proving that even the earth couldn’t resist a good Welsh sermon.

His final words? “Gwnewch y pethau bychain” or “Do the little things”.
A reminder that greatness often begins with small acts, quiet kindness, and the occasional leek.

So today, whether you’re wearing a daffodil, baking Welsh cakes, or just whispering “Cymru am byth” to your coffee, know that you’re part of a proud, poetic, and slightly eccentric lineage.

Happy St David’s Day, dear friends.
May your dragons be fierce, your leeks be fresh, and your little things be legendary.

As tradition demands, it’s time for the annual reminder of the official survival rules, because nothing says “I value my life” like refusing to behave like a horror‑movie extra.

So, for those wishing to make it safely to Saturday the 14th, please observe the following:

• ❌ Don’t go swimming. Lakes, rivers, ponds… if it’s wet, avoid it.
• ❌ Don’t have sex. Horror‑movie law. I don’t make the rules.
• ❌ Don’t smoke. The killer can smell irresponsibility.
• ❌ Don’t drink. Yes, I know, tragic!!.
• ❌ Don’t go out. The outside world is where the plot happens.
• ❌ Don’t split up. Ever. Even to “just check something.”
• ❌ Don’t run from the killer. They have Olympic‑level cardio.
• ❌ If you trip, get up immediately. Don’t lie there screaming like a Victorian fainting goat.

And above all, for the love of God… TURN ON THE LIGHT before entering any room. Darkness is where the soundtrack gets ominous.

Follow these simple guidelines and you might just survive the day without being chased by a masked man with questionable hobbies.

Stay safe, stay sensible, and for the love of all that is holy… don’t investigate strange noises.

To the Welsh among us: “Happy Santes Dwynwen Day!”
May your love be as enduring as a slate roof in a storm and your pronunciation confuse at least three Englishmen before lunchtime.

To the Scots: “Happy Rabbie Burns Day/Night!”
May your haggis be hearty, your whisky be flowing, and your poetry only slightly slurred by the end of the evening.

And to the rest of you non‑Celts…
Well… tough luck.

Today is for dragons, thistles, ancient saints, questionable folklore, and people who can win an argument using only vowels.

You may observe from a respectful distance and bring snacks

Blwyddyn Newydd Dda!

As we step across the threshold into 2026, I want to send each of you my heartfelt thanks and my fiercest good wishes. Another year has turned its page, and here we stand, wiser, a little more battle‑tested, and still carrying that spark that refuses to go out.

May 2026 bring you courage in the face of uncertainty, laughter in unexpected places, and moments of quiet triumph that remind you who you are. May your path be lit by good people, good purpose, and the occasional bit of Welsh magic when you need it most.

Here’s to resilience, to community, and to the stories we’ve yet to write.

Raise a glass, steady your stride, and step boldly into the year ahead.

Onward into 2026 – stronger, stranger, and absolutely unstoppable.

On the longest night of the year, the world feels as though it pauses, just for a heartbeat, between one breath and the next. The veil thins, not in the ghost‑story sense, but in the way a still lake reveals the sky when the wind finally rests. This is the Solstice: the hinge of the year, the ancient turning of the Great Wheel, the deep dark that promises light, the cold that invites warmth, the moment when darkness reaches its fullest bloom before yielding to the returning light.

Our ancestors knew this night well. They watched the sun sink low and wondered if it would rise again. They lit fires not only for warmth, but as offerings, sparks cast into the dark in honour of the unseen forces that guide the turning seasons. They gathered close, shared strong drink, and told stories of gods who battled winter’s grip, of heroes who descended into shadow and returned transformed.

This is the night when hearths matter most. When a warm fire, a strong drink, and good company feel less like luxuries and more like small acts of defiance against the encroaching dark. We gather, we laugh, we share stories, not because the night is long, but because we are choosing to fill it with meaning. We remind ourselves that even the deep dark hums with promise. The Solstice teaches a simple truth wrapped in mythic clothing: darkness is not an ending, but a gestation. A seed buried in the cold earth. A story waiting for its first line.

And then – slowly, almost shyly – the light returns.

Not in a blaze, but in a whisper. A few more minutes of dawn. A gentler tilt of the sky. The promise that brighter days are not only possible, but inevitable. With the light comes joy, companionship, and perhaps a bonfire or two to honour the old ways, flames rising like prayers, reminding the world that we are still here, still watching, still believing in the turning of the Wheel.

In this moment, we stand where countless generations have stood: at the threshold of the year’s longest night, looking toward the first spark of dawn. The myths remind us that every descent has its ascent, every winter its spring, every shadow its flame.

Let’s raise a glass to the turning of the wheel, to the resilience that carried us here, and to the light that is already on its way back.

From the darkest depths, brighter days ahead!

I have just got back from the 2-day High Council Meeting of the Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia (or SRIA).

Day 1 (Friday):

So I had to wake up at silly-o’clock to head off into England and to sunny Lamington Spa, and the fantastic conference centre Woodland Grange. Arriving early so that I could get the lay of the land, I wandered over the the SRIA registration table, where I discovered my nametag had not been printed, so I therefore got to write my own.

For the weekend I shall be “Lord Fauntleroy De Richleau the Third“, I then collected my welcome bag of mints, pen, notebook, bookmarks, and other goodies and entered looking for coffee. You will see that a big part of this weekend will involve coffee. But I must insist I am not an addict!

There was free coffee, everywhere had free coffee machines, it was HEAVEN!

After catching up with many people, and drinking even more coffee the High Council started at 1pm. We had a Requiem for those who passed, and then reappointed, and appointed those in office, including our own new Chief Adept for the Province of Western Counties and North Wales Dr. Steven Markham.

Out with the old and in with the new.
Our old Chief Adept hands over the baton to the new Chief Adept

We then had the first talk of the weekend, the CCR winning paper on “Allegories of Internal Alchemy in the Fama Frateritas Rosae Crucis” before breaking for coffee.

Everyone then split up either to hear the second talk of the event, or go for the rituals of grades 9 and 8. I was honoured to join the Third Order and go for my grade 8. It was a fantastic ceremony, and it will take me a few days to read the ritual and understand all that was involved.

Coffee break! then Dr A. Fear gave a talk on “Journey into the body: Know yourself” we then broke for a meal at 5:30pm.

Afterwards I booked into my room, grabbed a change of clothes to relax, and off to the final talk of the day which was “a demonstration of Esoteric Music Through the Ages” which involved singers, music, talks.

It was then time to go sit and chat in the bar until the wee hours of Saturday morning….

What a Day 1.

Day 2 (Saturday):

I was up and on my second coffee of the day by 7am. Then when breakfast started serving it was time for a full English, before dropping my bags off in the car, and signing out of my room before the day started at 9am.

Well most people’s day started at a more reasonable 10am, but I attended the Director of Studies meeting at 9am. Where we heard about the new diploma scheme and how to volunteer to be part of setting it all up. It was an interesting meeting and worth skipping that 4th coffee to go to.

It was then time for the 3rd or 4th talk of the weekend (I have lost count) which was “CRC’s Journey“. I say it was a talk, but it was a performance. A video played of the Metatron giving CRC permission to return to earth for a one night only special. And the speaker came in wearing a monks robe and bald cap, and without breaking character (or voice) gave an account of CRC’s journey as if from CRC himself. Best performance of the weekend!

Then it was time for a quick coffee break, before the next talk “Enoch – Who walked with God – The lost patriarch of Englsh Freemasonry” which was another very interesting talk.

We then did the High Council work of appointing officers for the year, hearing and voting on the reports, an address by the Supreme Magus. Then High Council was closed, and we all left for food. lots and lots of food.

After lunch there was a chance to re-hear some of the previous talks if you had missed them, a group of us decided to play pool, then have a cold drink outside in the sun before heading in for the last talk of the weekend. “The Camino de Santiago – A Masonic and Rosicrucian initiation into The Self“

What a weekend!

The Supreme Magus of the SRIA along with the heads of our sister organisations

I would like to wish all my English friends a very Happy St George’s day.

BUT GUYS!!! He killed a dragon?

And animal cruelty is just not fun! especially when its to an awesome animal.

PS. If you tell me He’s ok because dragons are mythical creatures are not real, then I shall just point out that you are celebrating the day of a man who killed something that doesn’t exist, so he is either a liar or on drugs….  Or he too does not exist….

Check Mate!

He’s not a saint anymore. The church sort of doesn’t believe in dragons anymore either.

*shock* Don’t believe in dragons? But the Catholic church is nuts, they wear funny hats, and have a popemobile…

Perhaps it was killed so you guys could mount it on your flag and you couldn’t do it yourselves 

I can just see that meeting..

St. George: “we’ve made you a flag!”
Wales: “But its just a dead dragon tied to a pole!”
St. George: “yes, That is your new flag. That will be 12 million groats!”
Wales: “But!!! But!! that’s not a flag, And it’ll just decompose and start to smell”
St. George: “Ah, so you’ll be wanting our update program, where we sell you a new flag every year”

(think Monty Python meets Microsoft)

Halloween is one of the oldest surviving holidays, its origins going back thousands of years. Hundreds of years ago in what is now Great Britain and Northern France, lived the Celts (A friendly bunch of People). The Celts were Nature Worshippers, and had many different gods, The Sun God being one of the most common ones, since the sun dictated when they would work,rest and play. The Celtic New Year was on November 1st. It was celebrated every year with a festival and marked the end of the “season of the sun” and the beginning of “the season of darkness and cold.”

On October 31st after the crops were all harvested and stored for the long winter the cooking fires in the homes would be extinguished. The Druids, the Celtic priests, would meet and light new fires and offer sacrifices of crops and animals. As they danced around the the fires, the season of the sun passed and the season of darkness would begin.

When the morning arrived the Druids would give an ember from their fires to each family who would then take them home to start new cooking fires. These fires would keep the homes warm and free from evil spirits.

The November 1st festival was called Samhain (pronounced “sow-en”). The festival would last for 3 days. Many people would parade in costumes made from the skins and heads of their animals. This festival would become the first Halloween.

By some small quirk of fate, the 3 day festival has significant meaning to me, As I was born at some point during the 3 days (oct 31/Nov 2) I’m not sure when, so I tend to celebrate for the 3 days, And class the middle (Nov 1) as my birthday..

So Happy Halloween, Merry New Year, Happy Samhain, and any other greeting you wish!!!

Four score and seven years ago, or in 1776 We decided that the young country of America had become old enough to trust not to run out in front of traffic, or try and play with dangerous animals and as such we took the reins off.

There comes a time in every parents life when you have to trust that your early guidance and teachings have given your offspring all the help they need to make their way in the world alone.

So the UK took off the training reins and watched as America took its first hesitant steps on it’s own. Yes there was a few stumbles and mishaps along the way. Several times America slipped and cut its hand or knee and UK wanted to pick it up and hold it safe.

“Maybe we should leave the reins on for a bit longer.”

UK.

But like all good parents we stayed back, Watching carefully and holding back our urges to guide and jump in at every hurdle. You have to trust your children will do the right thing.

I will say, America you grew up ok. Ok. you have made some really poor dating choices, and Looking at your teenage photographs “What were you wearing??” But all in all, you did well.

SO we here in the UK in general, and myself in particular would like to wish you a Happy Anniversary of your First Steps without the Reins!!

Happy Independence Day.