In which I left the house and Did Stuff

All last week I had some friends visiting, much to my excitement because it meant I got to Do Stuff With Grown Ups. Mr Seren graciously (in his own special way, i.e. with much good-natured whinging and moaning) took charge of the kids while I went off gallivanting around Scotland and all kinds of fun stuff. I finally got around to going to visit Paisley Abbey and spied the xenomorph carving:

Which was pretty high up so the picture is grainy because it's so closely cropped; I first learned about the xenomorph from some links that went viral a while ago and the abbey went on to my list of places to see and then I promptly forgot about it. But seeing as we were going to be nearby, at the museum, and had an hour to kill before that opened, the abbey was a good opportunity. There were some beautiful stained glass windows there as well (and a very talkative warden).

I'll start with our trip to Luss in Loch Lomond, though, and given the amount of pictures I took I'll probably spill over into a couple of posts after this. Loch Lomond was our first big day out (involving lunch and cake, naturally). I've been there many times now, but this time I had the chance to wander around a bit more and we visited the village church as well. The village itself is very picturesque (here's some I took from a previous visit, when it was sunny):

The church is really unusual, with the pulpit and font situated in the middle so everyone sits around it and can face each other. It's also beautifully done inside, but I didn't take too many pictures because the warden (or whoever he was) was very obliging in giving us a history and I didn't want to appear rude while he was talking. The font was originally removed sometime after the Reformation and buried under a cairn of stones not too far away, to protect it from being destroyed. It was eventually replaced after being discovered by soldiers, who brought it back to the church (which had been rebuilt by then). I didn't take a photo of it, but I did get a picture of the statue of St Kessog:

Who seems like a cheery fellow. He's said to have brought Christianity to the area over 1500 years ago, and according to the Wikipedia link he used to be the patron saint of Scotland before St Andrew took over; his name was also used as a battle cry. There's a wee trail behind the church that goes into the history, which starts off with a beautifully carved cross that spells out "coexist," which is a nice touch. And there are some beautiful views of the hills, that are still covered in bluebells at the moment:

You can kind of see the Celtic cross there as well. There are memorial trees planted all around the edges of the field and the guy we spoke to inside the church said they plant a fruit tree for each Christening they do, so they have an orchard as well, which is a nice touch. Some of memorials were for kids, which is just heartbreaking to see, with the teddy bears and kids' toys at the base of the trunk.

Back in the churchyard there's a Viking hogback - about tenth century in date, I think - lurking amongst the more recent gravestones:

They don't tend to have inscriptions so I'm not sure who it's for, and it seemed smaller than the ones I saw at Govan last year. I don't think I've ever seen one in situ before so maybe it just seemed wee by comparison, but I think it's sunk a bit and weathered a lot, going by the Canmore records.

Down at the shore there are some views of Ben Lomond, which marks the start of the Highland line:

And there's also a nice wee shop by the pier, with possibly the most talkative proprietor EVAR. Enter if ye dare... The shortbread's nice but you might never leave.

The next day we did Bute by car, so we got to see more than just the usual. In spite of the weather, which was a little changeable, it was a fab day, but I'll leave that for the next post. Or possibly two, because I kind of went to town with the camera that day.

I can has new stuff?

Fnaarr.

After six years of faithful service, and descending into a state where it will only work properly if a certain spot in the bottom left-hand corner is pressed in, just so, my poor old macbook has been given the dignified retirement it deserves. I'm now the somewhat reluctant owner of a shiny new laptop, with Windows, mainly because as much as I loved my mac and it's lasted about six times as long as any other laptop I've ever had (I drop things, OK...), they're damn expensive. Value for money, for sure, but a bit more than we can really justify spending right now.

And really, the new laptop isn't bad (except for the whole setting up process is way fiddlier than it was with the mac), but after six years of using all the shortcuts and getting to know how the mac works, it's a bit of an adjustment getting used to Windows again. The buttons are on the wrong side. When the hell did the Start button start doing that?! The keys are one over to the left of where I'm used to... Why can't I type grave accents easily? That's a bit of a bugger...

Doing acute accents are easy, but finding the right settings so I can type Gàidhlig properly has been a minor pain, but thanks to the help of Facebook friends and some late night idle Googling, I finally figured out how to do the graves - change the language settings to "United Kingdom Extended" via the Control Panel.

So yay!

à ò ù ì è

À Ò Ù Ì È

See? I thought I'd share. Now all I have to do is press ` and the vowel I need, and it works. Though I'm not sure why they couldn't just set it up that way anyway? 

In the meantime, I can now sit comfortably at a table and type, instead of having to carefully balance the macbook on a cushion as I sit on the sofa. The cat's not so happy about this arrangement, seeing as this means less cuddles, though, so after more than an hour of howling we had to reach a compromise:

The box the laptop came in with my dressing gown stuffed in it. Grumble doesn't do change too gracefully either, it seems. 

Bealltainn and bluebells

Summer is here!

Even though the winter and spring were really mild, summer's been slow to get started around here. Finally, though, we have the bluebells:

Which I think are one of my favourite parts of the year – when they come out you know the summer is right around the corner (such as it might be in this climate!). 

And here in these parts we've started the season with some especially welcome news – just as the kids and I were preparing to celebrate Bealltainn, we got word that Mr Seren's latest freelance job, which was originally only supposed to be two days (two months ago now), is pretty much confirmed as a long-term gig, which will (hopefully) make life a bit easier. Touch wood.

So we started things off on a positive note. Rosie was really excited about Bealltainn this year because she enjoyed our celebrations at Là Fhèill Brìghde so much, but she was disappointed that we wouldn't be making another dealbh Brìde and inviting her in. She decided that maybe if she made an offering Brìde might come anyway, so put something out for her and asked me to help her with what to say. The kids have asked to start learning Gaelic so we've been going over the basics – verrrry slowly. I walked her through a simple greeting and thanks as she put the offering out in the garden, then she bounced back inside all excited and we finished off our preparations.

The house was put in order, we had our feast (which Tom helped to make), the house was sained, and after the kids went to bed I had the chance for some peace and quiet while I made my personal devotions. It was a pretty simple celebration for us, and I'm starting to feel like the festivals are settling into our routine now as they're becoming more familiar to us as a family.

We welcomed in the summer and the new opportunities it brings for us. And with the blossoming of hawthorns, summer has arrived:

Là Bealltainn shona dhuibh uile!

In lieu of an actual post of actual substance, here's a traditional Irish song about the day, Thugamar Féin an Samhradh Linn.

I hope you have a good Bealltainn!

Cluttering up the place

One of the first things I did when we moved into the house we live in now – back in 2008 – was do all the nesting, the decorating, and the making the place ours. A lot of that involved a painting and wallpapering, getting out in the garden to give it a good overhaul, and taking the opportunity to splurge on furniture, and so on. The usual stuff.

The layout of the house meant that we could also finally find a decent spot for a huge bookshelf Mr Seren took a fancy to some years ago, when we moved into our first house together. It's an antique camel cart that's been adapted into a bookshelf, and it probably quite literally weighs a ton, and two houses later we finally had a place for it to sit, rather than having it dumped somewhere unceremoniously (in the porch of all places, in our previous house). We set it up in the kitchen-dining room, and I decided to dedicate one of the shelves as my shrine area. As the heart of the house, it seemed more appropriate to set it up in the kitchen than on the mantlepiece of the fireplace in the living room (and in a practical sense, the shelf was more out of the way from sticky fingers than the mantlepiece, so nothing would get broken).

Initially, I didn't have much to put on the shelf, so it looked quite sparse. I set it up like this:

But I found pretty quickly that most of the plants needed more light than the space could offer them, so a bit of rejigging was necessary (a few more unpacked boxes brought up more things to add, too). Over the years, though, I added more and more bits and pieces – gifts that were sent by wonderful friends, things I found as I went out and about, and some pieces I made myself as the fancy took me. Some of those ended up outside too, as I set up a shrine area up by the rowan tree I planted, with a 'pond,' a small cairn dedicated to my ancestors, space for offerings, some plants that relate to the festivals or my ancestors, some decorative pieces, and so on.

But inside, on my shelf, things have become rather cluttered over the years, and I've now ended up with this:

The plate at the front there is for offerings, and I've replaced the plaque from my granddad, that I originally put on there, because I realised wasn't sure what metal it's made from. I decided to remove it in case there was any iron in it – it seemed bad form. So I've replaced it with a small matchbox that used to belong to my grandparents, and which sat on a table of stuff for years. I loved the decoration on it as a kid, so when I found out that mum was going to dump it at a charity shop on my last visit to hers, I decided to 'rescue' it. There's the fossil I found one Midsummer at the beach, the hobhouse and the 'bile' candle holder I made, the Cryptic Crow that takes pride of place and represents Badb, and some protective charms like amber, red coral, rowan berries, and the rowan charms I've made over the years (that are more decorative than the ones I usually do):

I put the skull lights up for Samhainn one year. The kids insisted they should stay up.

You can't quite see it in the full-shelf picture, but just next to the dealbh Brìde we made this year, Rosie's put another one that she made all by herself out of pipe cleaner, sticky tape, feathers and some decorative charms that 'accidentally' came off some pen lids. Things keep mysteriously appearing on the shelf now that Rosie's tall enough to reach, and so long as things don't mysteriously disappear, that's OK by me. Occasionally she rearranges the cows because apparently they're busy having adventures, which are played out on the shelf, and if the kids had their way any empty space would would be overrun with rocks and shells from the beach. As it is, we've reached a compromise on that and their collection lives on one of the shelves below.

Last Samhainn I had the urge to make some more stuff for the shelf, and given the ancestral theme for the festival I'd been thinking about the kind of thing I could do that tied in with that, but in a way that fitted with the kind of iconography you find throughout the ages. A way of fitting in with the whole continuum, as it were. So I decided on a triskele from Newgrange, a picture of which (from the actual place) Rosie decided to have on her Wall of Wonder in her room:

So it's a little bespoke, but my little helper (Rosie) insisted it was finished the way it is. As I traced the swirls free-hand it provided a good focus for meditation and contemplation about things, and it got me in the mood for the festivities.

In my regular observances I only really make offerings at the shelf when the weather isn't suitable for doing that outdoors – I prefer to make offerings outside – although Rosie's taken to putting flowers like dandelions or daisies up there for Brìde. For festivals in particular I tend to perform the bulk of my observances at the shelf, since the focus of them is on the home and the household, but I also like to go outside then as well. It feeds kind of politer, going outside to greet the spirits of the place and make offerings of peace to them on their own turf, as it were, and I prefer to look for signs and omens outside than taking ogham (though I occasionally do that too). On a daily basis I prefer to look outside and see what the day might bring as I take a moment to offer up a prayer in the morning, rather than go to the shelf, although longer observances and saining are often done at the shelf.

A shrine isn't necessary, to me, but I do think it can help as a focus. It helps me articulate my beliefs and my relationship with the world around me. It's a microcosm, in that sense, and maintaining it, adding to it, helps to express how things change as well – seasonally, with decorations that reflect the time of year or the festival, and on a broader scale, too.