Links and things for Hogmanay

This is pretty much my favourite time of year so Hogmanay is a Big Deal in this house. Last year – because we're so rock'n'roll – the kids stayed up for the bells and we spent the evening eating popcorn and watching Batman (the Tim Burton version with Michael Keaton), and then we saw the new year in with a celebratory glass of Irn Bru. There's nothing like starting the new year with two kids hopped up on caffeinated fizzy beverages and E numbers...

This Hogmanay we'll probably be doing just about the same. The house will be cleaned and tidied, the kids will stay up till gone midnight, and then the next day (which will probably start with pancakes) we'll be going to the in-laws to enjoy the obligatory steak pie. This time we're providing the pudding – sticky toffee pudding, to be exact (at Tom's insistence).

If you're looking for some inspiration, though, you might want to start with Gaol Naofa's video:

There's some of the usual links and things over on Tairis, which I'll link up just now if you're looking for some historical information or things to make and do:

• Yule/Hogmanay Part One – Tairis
• Yule/Hogmanay Part Two – Tairis
• Celebrating Hogmanay – Tairis
• Festival Bannocks: Yule/New Year's – Tairis
• Frìth – Tairis
• Het Pint – Tairis
• Hogmanay Sowans – Tairis

But there's also plenty on here and elsewhere, too. If you're looking for some ideas for blessings to welcome in the new year these might be of use:

• A Hogmanay Blessing – in Gaelic with translation
• A New Year's Blessing – From the Carmina Gadelica
• Wha sains the hoos tha nicht? – A Scots Hogmanay Blessing
• Oidhche Choinnle, oidhche shona – A Hogmanay Duan
• Hogmanay – on Rampant Scotland
• Auld Lang Syne – the traditional song for the bells

Whatever you're up to for Hogmanay, I hope you have a good one! And if I don't manage a post before Friday then I hope 2016 brings you all blessings of health, wealth, and happiness. 

Links and things for grian-stad a' gheamhraidh

As the winter solstice approaches, questions about whether or not the day (or, more to the point, the night) should be observed by Gaelic Polytheists. My feeling is: If you wanna.

Personally, I don't think the solstices or equinoxes were ever observed by the pre-Christian Gaels – not to the same degree as the Quarter Days, anyway. It's obvious they were aware of them, as were their Stone Age(s) and Bronze Age not-Gaelic-speaking ancestors; the fact that several ancient monuments are aligned to the solstice or equinox sunrises is evidence enough of that, and indicative of probable religious significance, too. So from that perspective I acknowledge the day as having been important to my ancestors, since I have some Irish and Scottish heritage flowing through my veins. Their wisdom isn't something I like to ignore, you know?

The solstices and equinoxes have also come to be significant in the modern calendar thanks to other influences, too. Granted these are influences from other cultures and some people aren't comfortable with adding those into the mix, but to me, I see the way these days are expressed – in spite of the outside influences – as having been thoroughly Gaelicised. It's a prime example of what syncretism is, and so I don't feel the need to separate it out; it's all part of the continuum and especially here in Scotland it's pretty hard to avoid anyway. Your mileage may vary, of course.

So. If you're interested in looking into solstice traditions, you might want to start with Gaol Naofa's video, which we released on our Youtube channel last year:

I gave a little overview of the kinds of things we tend to do for the solstice here at home in my post about the videos when we released them last year; it's generally a pretty low-key event for us since Hogmanay is what it's all about at this time of year (I'll do a separate post on that later), and we've already had a go at a chocolate Yule log in celebration of the kids finishing school for the Christmas holidays. We did a buttercream version to accommodate my husband's inability to digest cream, but it just wasn't as good as our usual squidgy chocolate log. I'm going to get hold of some lacto-free cream and do it properly on Tuesday so we can have a good one that doesn't end up making my husband wish he were dead when he has some...

The kids are both very keen on lighting candles to put in the window; traditionally it's a custom observed by the daughters of the household, but Tom wants to do it too so they'll both get a candle to light. I think we might have some beeswax sheets left so we might be able to make some, even.

If you're looking for some light (arf) reading then there's the two-part article I've done on Tairis along with a bit in the festival bannocks and caudle section that will be useful, too:

• Yule/Hogmanay Part One
• Yule/Hogmanay Part Two
• Festival Bannocks and Caudle
• Celebrating Yule – Grian-stad a' gheamhraidh

I'm sorry the internal links are still broken – I've tried fixing them but I can't get them to work, at all! That will be fixed on the new and improved site, when it's ready (I'm still working on it, but it's happening!). For some reason I didn't do a "celebrating Yule" article in the Celebrations section, which I'll rectify for the new-and-improved site, too.

For the morning of the solstice the focus is usually on the sunrise at Newgrange. The sunrise has been webcast in previous years but it doesn't seem it will be this year; you can take a look at some photos over at knowth.com, though, and there are videos there too. 

If you'd like to greet the sun as it rises, you might find this prayer useful. It's not necessarily only for the winter solstice, but on the morning after the sun is certainly a welcome sight when you know the days are going to be getting longer and longer from here on out. 

Links and things for Là Fhèill Mìcheil

I accidentally typed "kinks" and things in the title there, which would put an altogether different tone on the rest of this post...

But anyway, as usual, let's start off with a video from Gaol Naofa's Youtube channel:

Which gives a short introduction to the festival as well as some ideas for things to do. I've done a more in-depth article over on Tairis, along with a short piece going over some practical ways of celebrating:

• Là Fhèill Mìcheil
• Celebrating Là Fhèill Mìcheil

Given the associations of St Michael and horses and the sea, along with the harvest theme, there are a number of deities that could be connected with the festival, and Kathryn wrote a bit about that on her blog. She also did the meme we posted on the GN Facebook page on Monday:

Photo collage from original images by efilpera (horses) and Duarte JH (field)

Along with the adaptation of the prayer, which you can find in full on the Gaol Naofa website's new meme page.

As far as things to do go, the big one is making a Strùthan Mhìcheil, or Michaelmas struan, which is a specially made bannock that's coated with a kind of caudle. I've posted a recipe for it on Tairis, which is taken from Margaret Shaw's Folksongs and Folklore of Uist. The Ceolas website has a more scone-like version, which I'm going to try tomorrow, hopefully (I prefer to use golden syrup as opposed to treacle, personally, though). An offering can be made of some of the strùthan, perhaps as you "beat the bounds" of your property, if you're able.

In the run up to the festival you could also try going out to look for some wild carrots (also known as Queen Anne's Lace), which are traditionally gathered at this time of year, although they may not grow in your area (and they're considered a problem in some parts of the US so it's probably not a good idea to grow them yourself). If you do go looking for them, it's important to be cautious because they're easily confused with poison hemlock (conium maculatum) and a couple of other plants. If you'd rather play it safe then the more usual orange variety of domesticated carrots (or more specialist variants, like purple or white ones) could be harvested (or obtained by other means) instead.

Of course, a good party is always a great way to celebrate any festival, and as Carmichael notes (two links up) there's a traditional dance that's done to the tune of Cailleach an Dùdain ('The Old Woman of the Mill-Dust'). Here's an example of the tune with a peurt-a-beul accompanying it:



The Carmichael Watson Project Blog has some interesting commentary on it, and also notes that the last sheaf of the harvest is often woven into a doll called the Cailleach. As winter approaches, she's certainly making her presence felt as she prepares to resume her wintry reign, and let's not forget that she also has associations with the equinox in Ireland, at Sliabh na Caillighe (Loughcrew), where Cairn T is oriented to the equinox sunrise.

That's about all I can think of at the minute, but check back on the Gaol Naofa Facebook page for another related meme on Monday...

New page and lead mines...

First off, a quick note about a new page on the Gaol Naofa website...

If you're following us on Facebook then you'll have noticed that we've been putting out a number of memes on proverbs, prayers, triads, and so on. Our latest meme is a prayer to the moon:

Original image: Dawn Perry

And now that we have quite a few of them we've created a page to host (and archive them) in the library section of the site. If you'd like to share any of them feel free, but please make sure you credit the original photographer, as per the terms of the Creative Commons licence. (Thanks).

Anyway, at the weekend the kids and I went on a fieldtrip with my mother-in-law and the archaeological society she's involved with. It was a long day with a few stops arranged (plenty of opportunity for my mother-in-law to show off her grandkids), the first one being to a lead mine situated in the highest village in Scotland. It's maybe not the most typical thing I'd be blogging about here, but the mine was really interesting and also involved a visit to a cottage that's been laid out in three sections, each section showing what living there would've been like during that period. It brought home a lot of things, for me, that I want to waffle on about here.

The mines date back to around the eighteenth century and it first started off with men setting up camp in the area and mining – rather haphazardly – whatever they could find. They lived in makeshift tents during the summer and worked as much as they could, then returned home in the winter. The conditions in the winter were too harsh to survive comfortably in tents, and being so high up it was pretty uncomfortable at other times of the year as it was.

Then a company moved in and advertised jobs that came with a real home. Men flocked to the area, bringing their families, encouraged by the prospect of a roof over their heads and a regular income; being able to settle permanently in the area meant that a regular income from mining was possible. As far as the houses go, what the company really meant was that they'd give the workers a small plot of land and then – along with working in the mine all day – they'd have to build the house themselves. Which wasn't exactly what was advertised, but people made do, and a village began to flourish... This is one of the streets today:

If I recall correctly, things like water mains, sewers, gas, and electricity were still being installed in parts of the village in the 70s.

The men would go to work in the mines for ten or twelve hour shifts during the summer, going down to around six hours in the winter. They got double the wages in the summer, given the longer hours. Boys from around eight years of age were employed to wash the galena that was mined out of the hills, before it was sent for smelting. In the summer they'd spend ten or twelve hours standing barefoot in the stream. In winter they'd often have to smash through the ice before they could begin washing – again, spending the whole shift barefoot in the water. The mining company would advertise the positions as "healthy outdoor work" for boys.

At the age of twelve the boys who worked in the stream would be allowed to move up in the world, being promoted to work in the mine. They wouldn't do the mining itself – not yet. Instead, they'd spend their shift dragging the lead out from where the miners were working, to pass their load on to the boys washing the galena in the stream and then trudge back in for more.

Of course, using the stream tainted the water with lead and other minerals, but it was the smelting that was the most dangerous job: A by-product of the smelting was arsenic, which was freely inhaled. To begin with, the furnace was situated near the village to cut down on the time it took to get the ore there, but it soon became obvious that the fumes hanging over the village weren't doing anyone any good. Eventually the furnace was moved further out, and built into the hillside. Boys would be employed to clean out the flues of all the soot and sediment – men were too big to climb up there – exposing them to the arsenic, too. The average life expectancy in the village – in the 1750s – was 35, although the high rate of infant mortality is the main factor in giving such a low figure. The age group with the highest mortality rate was between 0-2.

As new shafts were opened, the miners would leave the first piece of galena that alerted them to a potential seam they could mine. The rest of the galena would be taken, but that first piece was left, for luck; take it, and the mine would take you. So there it stayed. Each day as the miners entered the shaft they'd walk pass that piece of galena and rub it for luck. At the end of the shift they'd rub it again as they made their way out. The mine deserved this respect.

The tour guide showed us the piece in the mine we explored:

You can see how worn it is. The moss is from the damp and the spotlight they use to show it off – the tunnels are otherwise too dark for anything to grow ordinarily, but it's just as damp as it ever was.

Once they were in the mine they'd stay there until the end off the shift – in the dank and dimness. They'd eat where they worked and they'd piss and shit there too, so the mines were full of rats. The miners would tie their trouser legs at the knee so the rats couldn't run up inside them. They didn't have any specialist clothing, they just wore everyday clothing that they covered in melted wax so help give some waterproofing. It was always damp in the mines, but especially so in the rainy seasons when the rain water would filter down through the hills and drip into the mine shafts.

While the galena was dragged out by the older boys, the rest of the rock was usually stacked up on the wooden props used to shore up the shaft walls – it was a waste of time dragging out rock that wasn't going to make any money, because less ore meant less pay. The piles of rock added weight to the props, and with the damp in the mines it meant that the wood could rot quickly and there would often be collapses. Conditions left a lot to be desired...

The lead that was produced from the mines was only shipped off once a year – perhaps two years if the mines weren't especially fruitful. They wouldn't be shipped off until the load could fill up a ship, which meant the miners wouldn't get paid until a whole load was ready to go. Each miner would have to buy their own tools, pay for their own candles to light their way, and so they relied on the mining company to provide a store where the families could get food and any other supplies they needed, on tab. The miners worked in groups called "bargains," because the head of the group would haggle and bargain with the mining company to agree a rate of pay for the group. When the miners were finally paid they'd have to settle their tab and hope they had money left over; in a bad year, sometimes the miners would find that they owed the mining company more than they'd been paid, and would need to work another year and hope that this time they'd earn enough. Families would try to supplement their incomes by panning for gold in the streams that ran through the village, and the miners would carefully cultivate stalagtites of hematite that would form from the shaft ceilings from the minerals that leeched out of the rock. When the stalagtite was big enough, the miner would break it off and take it home to polish it up, and then sell it on to travelling merchants.

So conditions were hard. On top of the long hours and demanding physical work, the earliest houses built by the miners had to be erected using the cheapest materials available. Rock wasn't hard to come by for the walls, but the roofs were often little more than thatches of bracken and heather – not always completely waterproof, but slate or proper thatching cost money that most workers didn't have. The glass tax of the eighteenth century meant that most families couldn't afford windows either, so they just had small holes in the wall, with wooden shutters that were kept closed in winter. The floor of the house was little more than earth (or mud at times, because the thatch wasn't exactly water-tight).

The hearth was roughly in the middle of the room; there was no chimney, so the smoke would just have to work its way out through the thatch. The furniture – a chest, a few stools, and probably not much more – were low down to help keep people out of the worst of the smoke. The beds were little more than piles of heather and bracken to provide a mattress, covered over with warm blankets. Cottages typically housed between 8-10 family members:

The weather was pretty miserable on the day we visited, and even though it's only September the damp and cold really brought home how it important it would have been to keep the hearth alight day and night. The fire was smoored each night – smothered over to keep it at a steady, slow smoulder rather than a roaring blaze, to conserve fuel and so it wouldn't need constant attention throughout the night, and so it could be easily raised up again in the morning without having to start from scratch. Allowing the fire to go out completely could mean freezing conditions. I can't help but think of all the feeling that was put into the smooring prayer as those words were said each night. In the face of such uncertainty, routines of daily prayers like that could provide a sense of comfort and consistency.

Within a hundred years things had improved some. Slate became more widely available and affordable for roofing, and the window tax had been abolished so people had the luxury of natural daylight. The central hearth was becoming a thing of the past, being replaced by a cast iron fireplace off to one side of the room, with a chimney to take away the smoke. A bed was built into a cosy nook near the stove, and wood panelling on the walls provided extra insulation:

(A bit blurry but the light was crap, sorry). The nook was the prime spot for sleeping, especially in the winter.

Life was a little more comfortable and dry, although the slate roofing could still be a bit leaky. The average life expectancy in the village had risen to 55 by the mid-nineteenth century. By 1910, housing had improved once more:

People had warmer housing and better access to education and health care. Life expectancy had risen even further, hence baldy granddad in the corner there. One of the major changes was that the mining company recognised the benefit of a healthier workforce, so they'd begun to offer subsidies to the workers so they could buy seeds to grow vegetables. A healthier diet was a major improvement.

So that's the museum. The little tidbits of folklore – like preserving the first bit of galena – were really striking, for me. I doubt the miners thought of the mine as having a spirit, as such, but all the same they behaved as if the mine had a life of its own, and they worked to appease it just as they did with their offerings of milk to the Good Folk, the smooring and setting the house in order each night to make sure that the spirits couldn't come in and interfere... Life may not be so precarious as it was then – for most of us – but our concerns remain much the same. And respect to those we share our space with is always due.

New video from Gaol Naofa

It's been a good six since months since our last video so we decided it was high time for another one...

This time we decided to focus on offerings, and while it's something we've written about a lot, and at length, it's also something we get questions about frequently. Like our other videos, this latest one is intended to be a brief introduction to the subject, and here we cover a little bit of background about the history and archaeological evidence for offerings, what kind of things can be offered, and how they can be offered:

One thing we didn't really have time to focus on in as much detail as we wanted to was the kind of consideration that needs to be taken when it comes to the potential impact that our offerings might have on the environment, and on local wildlife. An offering that poisons or damages the wildlife is hardly a good offering, right? So as we note in the announcement over on the Gaol Naofa website, it's best to make sure that certain types of food offerings are made well out of reach of wildlife who might take the opportunity for an easy snack and end up getting poisoned. Offerings that can damage the environment – non-biodegradable things attached to trees, which can strangle or stunt the tree's growth, or pennies worked into tree trunks or cracks in stone – should be avoided completely. It may be traditional, but offerings like this:

Only damage the stone. This is a penny worked into a crack in a stone from a Neolithic stone circle on the Isle of Bute (which I took Marsaili to in April when she came over for a visit); the stone itself has now almost cracked into two and things like this will only serve to weaken something that's stood for around five thousand years... Things like this don't honour a place, or the spirits of that place. 

If you want to do some more reading on offerings in Gaelic Polytheism, then I think Gaol Naofa's article on the subject is a good place to start: Offerings in Gaelic Polytheism. This is one of Gaol Naofa's oldest publications, which has been substantially revised and updated over the years. You might also find our Children and Family in Gaelic Polytheism article useful, since it covers the basics of practice broken down into simple terms, and it gives an idea of some prayers you might want to use (one of which we included in the video). For more of an idea on the historical practices involving the making of offerings, there's an article over on Tairis that covers the subject in more detail, and you can also find a breakdown of the kinds of offerings that can be made as well. Finally, over on the Paganachd site, there's KILLYOUANDEATYOU, which is a must read for tips and ideas on how to go about your practice while keeping the spirits of the place happy – especially for Gaelic Polytheists who live outside of Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man.

Image by John McSporran, used under Creative Commons licence.

Book Review: Singing with Blackbirds

This isn't one of the books I got from the library recently (still working through those), but I decided it's worth a review... I Have Notes.


Singing with Blackbirds: The Survival of Primal Celtic Shamanism in Later Folk-Tradition
Stuart A. Harris-Logan

Let's start with the blurb on the back of the book:

Singing with Blackbirds is an investigation of the survival of primal Celtic Shamanism in later folk-traditions of Gaelic speaking peoples. This is an insightful and intelligent work that brings together areas of study not normally combined.

Going by this alone, it's obvious that this book has clear and lofty aims. I'll say right out, though, once you get into the nitty gritty of it all, those aims will probably end up leaving you with more questions than answers (and not in a good way). It certainly did me...

I'll admit that I have something of a bias against anything that claims to be "Celtic Shamanism," and to be fair to the author, he's well aware of some of the criticisms that are aimed towards the use of the label (or "shamanism" in general). So perhaps I'm predisposed to be skeptical of books like this, but I'd like to think that even if I'm not keen on principle I can at least give valid reasons for any criticisms I might have beyond some kind of knee-jerk reaction. I hope so. Harris-Logan mentions "encountering a lot of hostility from a number of groups which took exception to my research," so I'm sure it will come as no surprise to the author himself that there are those who might be critical (though I wouldn't say I'm especially hostile, personally...). Because of this, at the back of the book there's a section called "Apologia," where Harris-Logan gives a very useful outline of his reasons for using the term, and the crux of it boils down to this:

"Arguments against the use of 'shaman' and shamanism' as ethnological terms appear to be founded on the notion that they are not derived from a Celtic language. If we were to retrict its use merely to it's [sic] native culture, then only Tungusic shamans could be defined as such... 

"Restricting our vocabulary in this way makes an exercise in intercultural comparison both awkward and limited. Without an umbrella term, how are we able to hold one technique up against the other? ...I need a term to compare the practices of the Kwakiutl hamatsa and the Irish gelta. I need a term to compare the Buryat shaman's and Cú Chulainn's visionary experiences. I need a term to compare the spirit dance with rituals found to be taking place in latter day Coll and Uist. In short, I need 'shamanism'." (p133)

But I want to be clear that it's not simply the principle of using a loanword that I object to here. It's the fact that such a word describes a specific set of practices of a specific people, and I feel it's impossible to separate the original word from its culture and specific meaning within that culture. I feel it's wrong to try. Co-opting that word, adapting and generalising it to assume that the ritual practices of disparate are all one homogenous thing does a disservice to all of those practices, to my mind, especially when there are more accurate words from those cultures languages to describe them better.

On top of that, there's the fact that "shamanism" (in the popular sense) has been used to apply to a set of beliefs and practices that are highly problematic (see links, above). Not just "problematic," but mired in racism and rampant appropriation. It's unfortunate that Harris-Logan uses the very author responsible for kicking that all off – Michael Harner – along with at least one of Harner's students in order to try to prove the points he makes throughout the book, and this is something that certainly casts a negative over the whole book for me.

So there's the principle of the thing that I object to, yes. But it's also the fact that such an approach just doesn't hold up under any kind of academic scrutiny, and Harris-Logan himself is keen to emphasise that Celtic Studies has a lot to offer this kind of subject. The very problems I have with "core shamanism's" (as Harner himself calls it) approach in general underpin the approach Harris-Logan takes throughout the whole volume, as well: context is ignored, and comparative evidence is relied on heavily, even though the evidence comes from completely unrelated cultures and so have only limited bearing upon one another (more often than not). For instance, we're told that the Celts had totems and power animals, just like Native Americans do, even though he doesn't really define what these actually mean to Native Americans (or if they're even universal or exactly the same between tribes). The logic goes that totems are a thing somewhere in the world, therefore it follows that the exact same concept exists amongst the Celts because animals appear in a spiritual, similar-seeming context, too. Ergo, shamanism. And so it goes. What the evidence amongst the Celts – and amongst the different Celtic cultures themselves – suggests isn't considered.

In general, no matter which culture is being referenced, they're all treated as if they're talking about the same thing. On a very basic, broadly generalised level, there are similarities between many cultures, even those who never came into direct contact with one another, to be sure – we're all human, after all. But here, Harris-Logan draws on evidence from all over the world to show that shamanism is found in Celtic cultures, and at times it feels like he focuses more on non-Celtic cultures to prove a point than he does the actual Celtic cultures that we're supposed to be looking at.

Where there are clear relationships between cultures, they're treated as though they're one and the same, to the point where I'm not really sure if this book is supposed to be about "Celtic" Shamanism or "Gaelic" Shamanism. One of the people who contributed a glowing endorsement for the back cover seems to be similarly confused (referring only to "Gaelic Shamanism" despite the book's title), and I can only assume that this is presumably because it doesn't matter, because it all goes back to a primal (which seems to mean "universal") set of practices, anyway. (Which makes me wonder... why bother with slapping on a cultural label at all?)

But let's get down to the nuts and bolts, not just the general approach. The evidence is often twisted to fit the point the author's trying to make, even when the evidence is very obviously lacking, and one of the worst examples of this is in Harris-Logan's attempt to prove that drumming – as an element of shamanic practice that's "a crucial technique to most shamanic cultures, a catalyst for the spirit journey..." (p27) was also a thing for the pre-Christian Celts. He acknowledges that there isn't any overt evidence for this – no archaeological evidence, nothing in iconography or myth that outright describes or shows ritualistic drumming – but he goes on to argue that the "wheel" iconography found in Gaulish depictions of religious art, like this one shown on the Gundestrup cauldron:

Interior plate 'C' of the Gundestrup Cauldron. Source: Wikipedia

Is really a drum (in spite of the fact that these wheels consistently have way more spokes than the "shamanic drums" he compares them to, which only have four – rather like some bodhrán designs, which are relatively modern in origin as instruments go). Obviously this leaves something of a hurdle for the Gaels, because the Gaulish evidence doesn't apply and drumming is never mentioned in any of the myths, so here he argues that drumming was such an obvious part of practice that it wasn't necessary to reference it overtly, and also points to examples where he argues that an oblique reference to a drum is being made – interpreting passages and names from Irish myth that refer to wheels as secretly referring to the shamanic drum (though why not just say it outright if it's something that's so obvious and pervasive a practice? If it's no great secret, why the secrecy?). The significance of all this, Harris-Logan argues, is that, "This may be suggestive of a shamanic spirit journey." (p31)

Ultimately, Harris-Logan concludes:

"With the weight of this evidence it is impossible to discount the theory that the early Celts possessed drums. I agree with Trevarthen's note that the drum is a very primitive instrument possessed by most cultures across the globe (whether operating within a shamanic mode of perception or not), and it would be surprising if early Celtic tribes did not possess this basic instrument." (p33)

I find this whole argument to be extremely tenuous at best.

The meaning and etymology of certain words are discussed at several points, but actual meanings are often ignored in favour of personal interpretations that have no factual basis. Take "imbas" for example, which eDIL defines as "great knowledge; poetic talent, inspiration; fore-knowledge; magic lore," and breaks it down as coming from two words, "imb-ḟiuss or imb-ḟess." (Note: the wee dots above the 'f' in both examples there indicates lenition, which effectively kills the 'f' sound altogether). Harris-Logan, on the other hand, asserts that:

"The etymology of the term imbas (often translated as 'inspired' or 'poetic knowledge') is commonly given as 'in the hands' im (in) + bas (hands). It is also possible, though, that bás may have been intended instead of bas. If this is true, then a more correct translation would be 'in death' – supporting the shamanic mode of perception surviving in the modern Scots Gaelic language." (p48)

Although I'd still disagree with his conclusions here, I wouldn't have as much of a problem with assertions like this if the author was clear that this was either his own opinion, or could back it up with citations and a discussion of why he feels the eDIL etymology is wrong and why he discounts it. Phrases like "commonly given" don't help here, either, in trying to suggest this is a firm and accepted fact when it isn't.

In some cases, to be fair, he does make his linguistic speculations (or acceptance of other authors' speculations) more clear – such as the speculation that dán may be more accurately translated as "co-creative power" or even "shamanism" rather than "skill, art, gift, fate," (though I still disagree with his argument here). Elsewhere, however, he makes more spurious claims, like his mention of the dance called "cailleach an dùdain" (described by Carmichael in the Carmina Gadelica, in reference to a Michaelmas tradition) as evidence of birds having ritual significance in Gaelic "shamanic" practice. This is based on his translating the phrase to mean 'dance of the smoky owl,' which I can only assume is his own interpretation because it really means 'The Old Woman of the Mill-Dust.' Cailleach-oidhche means "owl," which is probably where he's coming from, but there's absolutely no supporting evidence for his interpretation here, and again he's stating something as fact when it's far from being the case. Things like this undermines any actual points that are being made because he's simply stretching the evidence to fit the picture as he wants it to.

The book is split into three main sections, the first section being titled "Druids and Drums: The Instruments of Ecstasy," and the second "Gaining Possession of a Sacrality." These two sections are primarily devoted to illustrating Harris-Logan's view of how the Celts were obviously a "shamanic" culture, based on comparative sources from all over the world. In the third section of the book – which is titled "A Shaman in the Gàidhealtachd?" – the majority of evidence is drawn from the Carmina Gadelica, with various prayers being given to support Harris-Logan's assertion that shamanism is evidenced in later folklore. My problem here is that no consideration is given to the context of the prayers – who said them, why, how – or how old they might be, what influences there might be evident in them, or whether or not Carmichael might have helped to "improve" the verses, to support or detract from the point that's being made. A prayer for justice (Ora Ceartas) is given, for example (along with several other prayers of varying purpose), but after the previous two sections, which go to great lengths to show that shamans were specialists of their arts – it wasn't something that everyone did, or was open to anyone who wanted to know more; the rituals and arts of the shaman were the purview and privilege of the shamans alone – the third chapter leaves me wondering how prayers like this (which were said by anyone in a situation where such a prayer was needed) are evidence of shamanism? If the rituals and specialist knowledge of shamans was known only to initiates, how and why did shamanism become more "public" in the Gàidhealtachd? This isn't addressed by Harris-Logan at all.

None of the prayers, or the myths that are discussed throughout the book, are viewed critically at all. At several points in the book the druid Mug Ruith is used to illustrate evidence of "shamanism," but the fact that the stories involve Mug Ruith are quite late, and Mug Ruith himself is presented as a "druid" through a very Christian lens, is ignored (see, for example, the discussion of Mug Ruith in Fiery Shapes). Harris-Logan himself argues for a more academic approach in dealing with the material, but over all I can't help but feel that he fails to illustrate one.

I can't say I found everything to be a total negative, though, and I don't want to sound like I'm totally hating on the book. In spite of my total disagreement with the majority of his interpretations and the over all point of the book, some of it was interesting and he draws on a diverse amount of evidence to support his arguments. As a fluent Gaelic speaker, he also gives his own translations of some of the prayers given in the Carmina Gadelica, and while they don't seem to be wildly different from Carmichael's own translations – just a few tweaks here and there – they do at least seem reliable (though I'll note that I'm not a fluent-speaker, by any stretch!) and are a little more up to date in language.

I also appreciated his discussion of how Gaelic works – the way only things that are integral to us, like family, or body parts, are spoken of with "possessive" phrases. To say "my hand" you say "mo lamh," which is literally "my" (mo) "hand" (lamh), but to say "my husband," or "my wife" you say "an duine agam," which literally means "the man (husband) that is at me." This isn't the first time I've seen such a thing discussed, but I've not really seen it discussed in any detail, and it's refreshing to read about this stuff from fluent speaker.

Again, however, there's a problem with some of the stuff that interested me because it's unreferenced and so I'm not sure how reliable it is. In particular, there's a note that tells the reader that the phrase ri traghadh 's ri lionadh, "With the ebb and with the flow" is "the name given to a traditional form of Gaelic singing." I recognise the phrase from a prayer that Carmichael gives in Volume II of the Carmina Gadelica (it's a prayer that we outlined in our Children and Family in Gaelic Polytheism article on the Gaol Naofa website, and expanded on as well), but I've never heard of it being applied to a form of singing and can't find anything to back this up. But if this is the case I'd certainly be interested to know more, especially if it sheds light on the prayer Carmichael gave, which is simply titled "Fuigheal/Fragment."

Ultimately, there just aren't enough interesting tidbits to make up for all of the problems I find with the book over all, and I couldn't recommend it. I think you're better off going straight to the source, so to speak, getting hold of the Carmina Gadelica and reading the myths yourself. Learn about the hisory and society these things come from, as much as you can. Context is important.

Links and things for Lùnastal

I was a little remiss in getting around to doing a links post for Midsummer, but the ones I've done for other festivals so far this year seem to have been quite popular, so I might as well pick it back up again.

First off, last year I did a video for the Gaol Naofa Youtube channel, which takes a look at what Lùnastal's all about and how it can be celebrated:

The first song on the video is a reaping song – that would have been sung as the harvest was being brought in (the rhythm helping people to get into a groove while they cut the crops, as much helping to pass the time) – that's sung by the Scottish folklorist Margaret Bennett, and the music was composed by her son Martyn Bennett. It's a very modern take on an old traditional song, and a sample of a 1920s threshing machine has been used to give the beat that complements the lyrics. The second song is the same again, this time sung with a more traditional arrangement.

Following on from that, since a major theme of Lùnastal is peace, Kathryn's video on the Prophecy of the Morrígan (or Badb's Prayer for Peace) is also worth a watch:



Which could be incorporated into celebrations if you so wish...

For a more in-depth background on Lùnastal/Lúnasa, and some practical ideas, there are some articles I've done over on Tairis that might be worth a read:

• Lùnastal
• Celebrating Lùnastal

If you'd prefer something a little (a lot) shorter, the Festivals page on the Gaol Naofa site might be more to your taste. One of the things on our to do list is to expand the music section, as can be seen by the number of songs that don't yet have a link; quite a few of these are apt for the harvest, though, so they're worth hunting up (you can find them all on Youtube, I think). The craft section also has some useful stuff if you're looking for things to do, and the links include a video showing you how to make a harvest knot (I've yet to try one myself...).

Games and competitive sports are a big part of the celebrations, and there's a big crossover with the kind of games and amusements that were played during wakes – very apt given the roots of Lùnastal as a funeral games, perhaps – so the Death and Burial article back over at Tairis might be useful too.

If you're looking for something nommy then try some cranachan or fraughan cakes... Going fruit picking up on the hills (or shore) is traditional, especially for bilberries (aka fraughans), but you can just use blueberries if you can't find bilberries in the wild... Gooseberries are another fruit that might be collected for the festival, and they can be used to make a delicious gooseberry fool, which is a kind of syllabub dessert (as is cranachan). For those in warmer climes, brambles (or blackberries) might be available by the beginning of August, which can make a good substitute in the absence of bilberries or gooseberries; they're only very rarely ripe so early over here (in my neck of the woods, anyway) in the wild, but supermarkets often start selling them by this point.

Going by the archaeological evidence, it appears that pork is especially appropriate for feasting on, so a good bit of roast pork, or a stew, with some seasonal vegetables – fresh from the garden, if you grow your own, or else locally sourced if you can afford it – could form the main part of your celebratory feast. For savoury treats, cheese-making is traditional, especially a simple soft cheese like crowdie, which is easy to make (in theory! I've yet to master the art myself because I keep managing to overheat the curds). The smell takes a bit of getting used to while you're heating the milk, and that can be a litle off-putting, but the end result really is quite tasty; try rolling the cheese in toasted oatmeal or crushed black pepper to add more flavour. The leftover whey can be used to make some oatmeal bannocks – also traditional to make for the festival (from a Scots persecptive, at least) – to serve with the cheese, or else there are a number of other traditional recipes you might want to hunt up so it doesn't go to waste (F. Marian McNeill's The Scots Kitchen and The Scots Cellar will be useful).

Story-telling is also an appropriate part of the celebrations, along with music and song, which can help set a very convivial atmosphere if you're celebrating as part of a group or with family. You could tell the story of Tailltiu's sacrifice, for example, or take a look at some of the other Dindshenchas tales like the ones for Nás and Carmun. Maire MacNeill records a huge amount of tales in her massive book, The Festival of Lughnasa, and some of them involve Lugh or Crom Cruach, so it's absolutely well-worth getting a hold of if you can. Failing that, why not compose your own stories or poetry?

And finally, the pond

Ever since we visited my sister during the Easter holidays earlier this year, and Rosie spent the best part of a weekend making a whole fishing village for the wee pond in my sister's garden, Rosie's been obsessed with the idea of having one in our garden. A Big One. I quite liked the idea myself – if not for quite the same reasons as Rosie (it's not like I need much of an excuse to find a home for yet more fish) – and it also presented the opportunity to a) tidy up the garden and utilise an otherwise neglected and ugly space, and b) have a rethink about how I use my devotional space outside.

Our garden's layout is kind of awkward – you step out onto a flat patio with some decking and then the lawn is on a terrace about two metres above it, which is accessed by some steps. The lawn itself is mostly on a slope, and the flower bed is wedged up in the top right-hand corner at the back. When we moved in I extended the flower bed a little and put in the rowan and some fruit bushes, along with bits and pieces to create a wee shrine space. There's a tiny pond (or puddle...) and a cairn, and the plants I put in were intended to have some kind of seasonal link, or else were significant to me in some way – plants that remind me of some of my ancestors (those I knew before they died, like grandparents), and some juniper, which I can use for saining. Like so:

As you can see, I'm not the greatest of gardeners. In my enthusiasm to fill up space as quickly as possible I've over planted, and I feel so bad at the thought of thinning the bulbs out (I've nowhere else to put them and gardening shouldn't involve having to kill pretty things!!) they're taking over... It's all thriving, at least, I suppose. Though I'm going to have to thin the bulbs out this year, for sure.

Given the flower bed's situation – right up the top of a hill – it's a wee bit exposed to the neighbours and so the lack of privacy doesn't really encourage me to use it as an active shrine. The ground gets boggy in bad weather, too, which makes getting up there more of an adventure than I'd like. Over the years I've maintained it as much as I can with a view to creating a wildlife-friendly space, with the process of gardening itself being a kind of devotional act of sorts, in memory of my granddad (gardening was his passion). But while I make almost all of my offerings outside, I've always gravitated towards using the patio area, which is more private, instead of using the shrine for that kind of thing, which is what I'd originally intended.

So in committing to getting a pond, the obvious place to put it was just off to one side of the patio, where we have some ugly gravel going from the paving slabs to the fence (I presume it was put in as a moisture trap, so it's probably not something we should take out completely). The previous owners had tried to cover it up with some decking surrounding a gas-powered barbecue, but we didn't use that (too expensive) and the decking was rather worse for wear now, so something needed to be done with it sooner or later.

The soil isn't very deep round here so digging a hole for the pond wasn't going to give us much to work with, and let's face it, Mr Seren – who has a tendency to hiss dramatically at the sun before running back indoors – was never going to commit to digging it himself and it would be way too much for me to do. So instead we chose a raised pond – not the best solution, because I don't think it will be as wildlife friendly, for one, but it's better than nothing. Removing some of the gravel to get down to a flat, smooth surface took a few days or so (which I did myself, so I did it in short bursts, not wanting to over do it), and then it took a few trips to the DIY store to get enough sand to make a safe, flat base to put the pond on. All in all, the pond is about 700 litres (around 150 gallons) when full, but Mr Seren's worried about the mess that would make if it burst, so we're playing it safe, for now, and it's about two thirds full at the moment.

A trip to the garden centre procured some planters and plants to go in. As I did with the flower bed before, I wanted to put in plants that are significant in some way (and will encourage bees etc), but I was less successful in getting the specific ones I wanted this time around; I think it's not the best time of year to start off planting for a lot of the kind of plants that I'm after. I couldn't find any wild primroses for sale, or any wildflowers like cowslips and so on – which are past flowering now – and it's not really the best time to try and sow my own... I've made do with some blue primroses, and bought a couple of poppies (in memory of my granddad), a foxglove (for the spirits), some lavender and rosemary (because I like smelly plants), along with some daisies, an anemone, an astilbe, and... more. I put in some evergreens to give a bit of greenery in the winter, and I managed to find some juniper, too – a common juniper this time. When I got it, I decided to take a walk along the coastal path from the garden centre to the nearest village where I could get the bus home, and I made some cow friends along the way. I took some photos on my phone after the came over to say hello, but I don't have a cable to put them onto my computer... They were more keen on trying to eat the juniper poking out of my bag than saying hello to me, to be honest, but they deigned to allow a quick tickle seeing as it brought the nommy closer to them, and that kept me happy, at least. I'm sure they'll thank me for not giving them an upset stomach in the end, as I'm sure something like juniper would if they tried to eat it...

I also got a rush for the pond, along with another oxygenating plant (a marestail, I think), and some spearwort (sadly already almost completely eaten by a voracious and surprisingly waterproof snail, but there do seem to be some new shoots coming up so I'm hopeful it will pull through). Today we got a waterlily and some fish, and I've moved the more established rushes from the "puddle" as well, to make sure the fish have enough shade and plenty of nooks and crannies to lurk around if they want to. I'll get a replacement for the puddle, but the rushes in there had long overgrown the space anyway, and they were a little worse for wear after Oscar decided their only purpose was for him to rip out of the water and tear around the garden with them.

Bad Dog, Oscar.

Once things are more established, we'll get some pond snails, too, to help keep on top of the algae, although after a couple of weeks now we already have a few water beetles that have moved in and it will be interesting to see what else we might get. Beyond flies and midgies... The local fish shop tends to recommend waiting at least a month before introducing algae eaters, so we should be able to get them in a few weeks. It would be nice to have some frogs, too, so I need to think of a way to allow them to get in and out easily; I'm not sure about piling up stones to allow access, in case they rip the liner, but I'll need to figure that out somehow, and make a nice shallow area to encourage frogspawn/tadpoles eventuall, as well. For now, though, this is what we have:

We got three fish, by the way. One shubunkin, one Sarasa comet, and one yellow (or buttercup) goldfish, mainly to help keep on top of the fly/midgie larvae. And because I like goldfish (I already have 11 fish – three fancy fish, two platys, and five cloud minnows – in two tanks, so Mr Seren is breathing a resigned sigh about the pond at this point). So far only the shubunkin, which Tom chose, has a name, Max the Mutant, because it's mostly blue and white but has one red eye so it's rather distinctive looking. Rosie chose the comet, which is unofficially dubbed "Ghost" at the moment, because it's completely white, but as yet the yellow goldfish remains nameless. She's quite friendly with Ghost, though. Maybe I'll call her Whoopi.

It's all a work in progress, really, but the poppies, lavender and daisy-type plant are already flowering, and the digitalis is just about to. Before we got the pond we also bought a picnic table, so I've moved it beside it all for a comfy spot to sit while I might enjoy the view. It's midgie season right now so the usual times I might want to sit out are right when the midgies are wanting their dinner, but once the weather cools down that shouldn't be a problem.

A while ago I added some links to the Crafts section of the Gaol Naofa library of the website, with ideas for things to do to help make a wildlife-friendly environment for your bioregion. I've been meaning to trawl for more to link and ideas to add (if you have any, please share!), but things like bug hotels and bird baths would be a perfect addition to the space (or up in the flower bed), and the summer holidays is a perfect time to get a project with the kids going. I'm going to look through those and see about what I can do on the cheap, and I'd like to get a bird table, or something, so I can use it for somewhere to put offerings out of the dog's way, and maybe add some more decorations to give some interest once the summer plants start to die back – I couldn't find anything sufficiently tasteful at the garden centre, but Mr Seren thinks that in the absence of an exact replica of the Brigid statue from the well at Kildare (Rosie wishes), we should maybe try to find a peeing Sheela-na-gig water feature... It's kind of tempting, I have to be honest, though I doubt such a thing exists.

For now, until I can get somewhere to allow offerings to be safely made at this spot (I usually put them up on a part of the wall, which terraces the lawn off from the patio, on the other side of the garden where the dogs can't get at them), I can still make libations as I sit. Not pouring them into the pond, obviously. Eventually we'll add some more pots and containers around the pond, too, but for now I want to see how what we've already got will do against the slugs and snails, and what might need repotting next year. I think there'll be a fairly high attrition rate, to be honest, but we'll figure things out, I'm sure. As it is, it's a start, and that in itself provides a focus for me to keep at it and tend to it. Rosie's still figuring out how to make a fish-friendly, but decorative "boat," meanwhile... Priorities, right?

Links and things for Bealltainn...

Now that Bealltainn is officially less than two weeks away, I thought I'd do a round up of some bits and pieces that you might find useful if you're looking for some inspiration, or an idea of what the hell it is!

First off, last year I did a video for Gaol Naofa's Youtube channel that gives a good introduction:

And if you want to do some reading for a more in-depth view then you might find the two-parter I did on Tairis a while ago useful:

• Bealltain Part One
• Bealltain Part Two

There's also a piece on Celebrating Bealltainn, and a short article on Rowan and Red Threads with a ritual for hanging the charms as well.

Over on Gaol Naofa, there are some songs and ideas for Bealltainn crafts. The songs include:

• Thugamar Féin An Samhradh Linn
• Tiocfaidh An Samhradh
• Thig, A' Chuinneach, Thig

The latter link is a churning song (with links to a few others), since churning butter at Bealltainn is an important activity. Bannocks and caudle also form an important part of the celebrations (in Scotland), and you can find more information, along with some good reads about Irish customs, at the following links:

• Beltane Bannocks at the Carmichael Watson Project
• Festival Bannocks and Caudle
• Caudle Recipe
• Traditional May Day Customs

There's also a wealth of poetry relating to the coming of summer that can provide inspiration and make a nice addition to celebrations and devotions:

• Laa Boaldyn
• Summer Has Come
• Song of Summer
• In Praise of May
• Seasonal Quatrain: Bealtaine
• The Old Woman of Lia Nothain

Book review: Myth and Magic: Scotland's Ancient Beliefs and Sacred Places

Myth and Magic: Scotland's Ancient Beliefs and Sacred Places
Joyce Miller

This book is on the Gaol Naofa recommended reading list, but until now I hadn't had a chance to read it myself.

Over all, this is a nice little book and an easy read, and I think it makes a good introductory book for anyone looking to learn about things like sacred places (both Christian and pre-Christian) and the beliefs associated with them, along with a bit of an overview of the Good Folk and other Otherworldly beings, and the kinds of charms, amulets, and talismans that are traditional to Scotland. It's going cheap, second-hand, so that's always a plus, too.

Some of the chapters are effectively lists of different kinds of places around Scotland, while other chapters give an introduction to different kinds of subjects -- healing and holy wells, festivals and rituals, stones, amulets and talismans, superntatural beings, and so on. We start off with one of the chapters that lists places of interest -- shrines and pilgrimages in this case, which I found a little off-putting to start with. A little preamble about them first would've been nice. Each entry in this chapter is listed by the saint we're dealing with, and there's a brief overview of the site (or sites) they're associated with. Then we move on to a more conversational sort of chapter, detailing the ways in which healing and holy wells are used. I preferred these kinds of chapters, as they were more informative and the listed chapters were a little repetitive, going over material or sites already covered elsewhere, and I'm not sure the choice of listing them by saint, or name of the site, is terribly useful. If you want to look up sites in a particular area or location then it gets fiddly...

For the most part the information given is pretty solid, and there's some genuinely interesting stuff in some of the chapters that I've not seen elsewhere. The chapters towards the end of the book - on stones, and on talismans and amulets, and the one on supernatural beings offered the more interesting stuff, for me, but it's a shame there aren't any references given anywhere in the book. There's a short, but pretty solid bibliography, but that's about it.

This problem with lack of sources is especially unfortunate when it comes to some of the more interesting tidbits I found in the book. In the second chapter Miller mentions a St Triduana, who she describes as a "Pictish princess from Rescobie in Angus... Triduana had converted to Christianity but she was desired by a pagan prince Nechtan. The prince particularly admired her eyes but, rather than submit to him, Triduana is said to have plucked out her eyes and sent them to her admirer on a thorn." As far as I'm aware there aren't any names of Pictish women recorded, so this reference piqued my interest. Looking into it further, however, I can't find any agreement that Triduana was actually a Pict. So just be aware that sometimes the author seems to put her own spin on things.

One serious niggle I have with the book is in the chapter on festivals and rituals, which gives some rather dodgy information:

Imbolc or St Bride's Day was the feast of the Celtic spring goddess, and celebrated the first day of spring. Beltane was associated with the feast of Bel, ruler of the Celtic underworld, and celebrated the renewal and growth of crops and the land. Lugnasad, or the feast of Lugh, was the same as Lammas and marked the start of the harvest. Samhain -- the feast of the dead -- marked the end of the yearly cycle and the first day of winter.

I mean, at least it doesn't say that "Samhain" is a god of the dead, right? But Bel just isn't a thing and Lúnasa and Lammas are two separate (though admittedly similar) festivals, and "Celtic" just isn't a useful term to use here... So although I'd recommend the book, I'd also recommend taking the information given with a pinch of salt unless you're already familiar with what's being talked about from other sources, or you follow it up yourself. For the most part it's really OK, but there is the odd clanger here and there. It's not a major downer, and it's par for the course in any book, but it needs noting, I think.

The title kind of implies that you're going to learn loads about pre-Christian belief and practice, but if you go in expecting to find this then you'll be disappointed... What you will find is a good overview of Scottish folklore and folk practice, and in this respect it's a good complement to F. Marian McNeill's The Silver Bough series, in particular. Miller covers much of the same ground, but gives a little more detail here and there, especially when it comes to places, so I think if you're looking for a more rounded view of Scottish folklore then it's a good book to get hold of. All in all, a good read with a few caveats.

New article!

Gorm's already made a wee post over on his blog, but time zones being what they are it was a little late to get round to it on this side of the Pond last night...

Gaol Naofa's latest article is up on the site! The article is by Sionnach Gorm himself, and it's titled History, Myth and Genocide: Real and Imagined; Or The Pagan Problem with Patrick. As you might guess by the subject matter, the original aim was to get the article up in time for St Patrick's Day, but alas, deadlines? Meh. So we're putting it out now because it's just too good to sit on until next March.

The article takes an in-depth look at the history of St Patrick and the way he's presented in the sources we have about him, as opposed to the less... realistic... view that's often circulated -- he's a genocidal maniac! He killed the druids! Weugh! Arg! I give you exhibit A as evidence:

Which I moaned about myself in a post last year. Although, as we note in the announcement over on the Gaol Naofa website, the wailing and anguished gnashing of teeth has died down somewhat in recent years, the recent theft of the statue of Manannán prompted some rather ignorant comments about "Christian's trying to finish what Patrick started," which shows that there are still misconceptions about who Patrick was and what he actually did during his time in Ireland. Gorm does a great job in showing that this kind of view just simply isn't based in reality, and I think it's a really important piece that needs to be read.

This article is the final part of a trilogy from Gorm, with part one on Gorm's blog titled Leprechaun Vomit… or why I hate St. Patty’s, and part two up on the Gaol Naofa site titled Pagans, Polytheists, and St Patrick's Day. They're all well worth a read!

That time of year again...

Dare I say it? There doesn't seem to have been too much silliness in the run up to St Patrick's Day as there has been in previous years... Not so much as a whisper of genocidal maniacs, no yelling about snakes or druids... Is it too good to be true? Am I being a little premature?

Either way, I figured it might be a good time to do a round up of some links and videos that might be of interest. I'll start with a little humour:

Although alas, I've no idea who to credit for it... If you take a look at the Paddy Not Patty Twitter feed, you'll see it's all very SRS BZNSS. People are very attached to ole "Patty." Incidentally, the guy behind paddynotpatty.com has been interviewed here, it's good stuff!

This time of year marks the first anniversary of Gaol Naofa's Youtube channel, and the first couple of videos we did back then focused on various aspects of St Patrick's Day. Our first video looks at the harmful stereotypes vs. the realities that often come hand in hand with the day:

While the second video takes a look at the history and misconceptions surrounding the man and the saint, from the snakes as druids (except not!) to the idea of some pagans celebrating it as a "Day of Mourning" as a result of these misconceptions:

Fellow Gaol Naofa colleague, Sionnach Gorm, wrote a great article to accompany the videos as well, asking the question:

How do we, as devout polytheists, reconcile the historic reality that our ancestors (at some point in the 5th-6th century CE and with no evidence of coercion) chose to turn to a god of bells and tonsures, of monks and scriptures, of Rome and the Papacy? Why would they “abandon” the gods of their ancestors, and choose this newfangled Christ and his missionaries?

You can read the article on the GN website here.

Last year I kind of nearly reached critical mass on the whole business, but I might as well link to the post I wrote then, because it ties in neatly with Gorm's article and the videos. Seeing as the videos and the posts touch on Sheelah's Day, which falls on March 18th and traditionally marks the beginning of spring and the end of the wintry storms at this time of year (just as Là na Caillich does in Scotland, on March 25th), I might as well link to a post giving an overview of it that I did a couple of years back. 

Kathryn and I are currently working on overhauling the festivals section of the Gaol Naofa site, expanding on what's already there for the Quarter Days and adding articles for the "lesser" festivals in Gaelic Polytheism as well, including one for Sheelah's Day. In the meantime, we already have a video on Sheelah's Day and Là na Caillich that might be of interest:

Elsewhere on the web, there's a great post on the Vox Hiberionacum site announcing a new audio guide on St Patrick called Six Year's a Slave, with a bit of a historical overview about the man himself there. The audio guide looks really interesting! 

New video: New moon

This month's new moon is apparently a "Black Supermoon." The supermoon part means it's going to appear bigger than usual (more noticeable as it rises), the "black" part means that it's either the second new moon in a calendar month (like a blue moon), or to the third new moon of a total of four within a single season period. In this case, it's the latter.

So that's pretty cool. The new moon was on Wednesday or Thursday this week (depending on where you are in the world), but as yet it's been too cloudy to spot it in these here parts. In Gaol Naofa, we observe the new moon, or Gealach Ùr, with a simple ritual to welcome the first sighting of it and honour An Trì Naomh. Since our membership is spread pretty far and wide, it's a way for us to do something together and share in the experience, wherever we might be (if members so wish; participation's completely optional). We generally co-ordinate the observance of this rite for the third day after the new moon, to maximise our chances of being able to catch sight of it.

After our series of videos on the festivals, we decided to focus on other areas of practice, and the first video for this is on the new moon:

Like our other videos, we take a look at the history and lore we find in Gaelic tradition, and then take a brief look at how that informs Gaelic Polytheist practice, and we give an example of a prayer at the end -- this one from the Carmina Gadelica, and translated by Kathryn. There are some more useful links posted in our post on the Gaol Naofa front page, which are worth a read, and we have another announcement there too! 

Moving forward, we're working on some updates and new material for the Gaol Naofa website, which we're aiming to get ready to go in the next month or so. We'll keep you posted!

Follow up on the statue theft: Where is Manannán?

It's been just over a week since the statue of Manannán was stolen and a cross was left in its place, as I wrote about in my last post. Although the perpetrators haven't yet been found, or the statue recovered, there are a lot of people who are still hoping that some good can come of this. Whether that means the statue is recovered, or a replacement is made, either option seems like as "good" an outcome as possible under the circumstances. As the sculptor himself notes, the statue is more than likely to be in pieces already, but he's issued an appeal to the thieves:

When asked what he would say to the person, or persons, who made off with his statue, Darren made a simple appeal: “Just bring it back. Bring it home and see if we can get it repaired,” he appealed. 

Darren says although he has got over the initial sick feeling he had when he first saw the damage to the sculpture, which took more than six months work to create, he is still crushed about what happened but says the worldwide outpouring of support has provided some comfort and makes him feel proud people held his work in such esteem.

Derry Journal: One week on and mystery of missing Celtic sea god statue goes global

So there's still hope that the statue may be returned. If it isn't, I do hope it will be replaced, and I think it would be incredibly short-sighted of the council not to considering the amount of attention this has all been giving them, and if there are fundraising efforts established locally then Gaol Naofa has pledged to support that. The huge amount of attention the story has been getting is almost as big a story as the theft itself; a Facebook page that was set up shortly after the news broke now has over 6,000 likes within the last week, and people from all over the world have been sharing their own pictures of the statue, articles from the news, as well as sending in messages of support. The person running the page is urging people to keep sharing and spreading the news, in the hopes that the attention will help with the statue's recovery, and many members of the page have been very generous in giving permission for their images to be used in making memes that can be shared. I posted one that Kathryn made in my last post, and with the help of Caoimhín Ó Cadhla translating for us (to whom we're most appreciative) we've now produced an Irish language version to share:

You can find others we've done hosted on the Gaol Naofa website at a new page we've created in our Resources section, and you can also find them on the Gaol Naofa Facebook page -- feel free to share!

In addition to that, The Wild Hunt got in touch with Gaol Naofa for some comments about the statue's theft, which I took point on as sacrificial lamb head of the organisation, and the resulting article gives a really good overview of reactions from the locals of Limavady as well as polytheists (like myself...) and pagans. As I said there, we've been following the story closely on our Facebook page, and have been sharing some resources about Manannán ma Lir (like the video we did for Midsummer last year), including prayers and traditional songs, since this is something people can do wherever they might be in the world.

We decided that maybe a video was in order to help keep the story circulating, so Kathryn took point on writing up a script and creating a prayer to share, and with the kind permission of some of the photographers who shared their photos of the statue with the Bring Back Manannán page, we've put something together and we're ready to share:

So if you want to share the video and join us in singing Manannán back home, then please do so! We have a little introduction to it on the front page of the Gaol Naofa site, and the prayer from this video is available on a meme we've created, which you're also welcome to share:

This is another one of the images we have up on the new page I mentioned above (along with a different-sized version of this one). If you click through to the front page of the Gaol Naofa site then you can find them in the Resources section of the Library. There are plenty more on the Bring Back Manannán FB page, too.

Yet more videos...

With the year drawing to a close it seemed apt to finish off our series on the festivals, and so in good time for the solstice and Hogmanay, Gaol Naofa has released two new videos (conveniently dealing with the solstice and Hogmanay respectively), which complete the festival year in the Gaelic calendar.

Considering the fact that a number of the festivals we've covered aren't Gaelic or pre-Christian in origin, it's no surprise to find that not every Gaelic Polytheist celebrates every single one. Each of them is significant in some way, when considered as being part of the bigger picture, as part of the continuum, but that doesn't necessarily mean all of them mean something to us on a personal, individual level. In the case of this particular festive period, I tend to pay more mind to Hogmanay than the solstice itself, because of the fact that it's a huge deal here in Scotland. Though with the kids finishing school today, and Mr Seren being on holiday as well, we'll inevitably end up having a whole festive thing, of sorts, until they get back to school come January...

Kathryn has a great post over on her blog that goes into some details about the traditions surrounding Hogmanay, and the Hogmanay video itself gives some details as well as a bit of context and history:

The music is by Clanadonia, who are good friends of my husband, so please support them! (This particular song is used in the first episode of Outlander, and at least one of the band members is in it as an extra. Just so you know...).

Anyway. Our video on the solstice has an overview of the origins and influences of the celebrations, and some things that you can do if you want to:

As Kathryn noted, I've used some of the photos I took during my visit to Ireland earlier this year (although I can assure you, the really good ones like the preview pic above aren't mine!).

Here, at home, we might indulge somewhat in a squidgy chocolate Yule log over the next few days (a family tradition I grew up with), and then there will be the usual cleaning and tidying - redding the house for the new year - and the lighting of many candles, which will fall to Rosie as her duty. The old year will be swept out, and the new year welcomed in, and then house will be sained, along with all of us in it. There will probably be the usual steak pie on New Years' Day at the in-laws (as is traditional in these parts), so we'll do some baking so we can take something with us as a gift. Tom loves baking, so he can take point on that. And we have a new puppy! So there will be a good opportunity to brave a trip to the beach and some other spots around the village so we can make some offerings and collect some water from the dead and living ford (there's one not far from here). All in all, there's plenty of things for us to be doing.

As always, I hope you enjoy the videos as much as I've enjoyed making them. While these two videos finish off our series on the festivals - thirteen videos in total - we intend to carry on with more, tackling some other topics in due course. We've had some requests for videos that people would like to see, and any more ideas are very welcome.