Archive | December 30, 2014

New Year’s sillies – Are you a true Scottish American?

Are You a True Scottish American; Celt or Gael?

Any of the first statements are automatic qualifiers.

You must:

  1. Like the taste of haggis and eat it willingly.
  1. Have red hair. This includes eyebrows, eyelashes, pubic hair and mustache. (ladies too.)
  1. Like and collect bagpipe music. Will willingly endure an indoor bagpipe concert. The sound of massed pipe bands make you cry and not from pain.
  1. Wear a kilt in public, no matter what your knees look like or whether the wind is blowing. (fishing weights can be wonderful things as well as bike shorts. Regimental can be chilly.

You should:

1.     Accept that your ancestors as well as being royalty were also horse thieves, cattle rustlers, sheep thieves and murderers.. Be especially proud of the latter.

2.     Realize that dessert will be shortbread, trifle, or have oats in it and be excessively sweet. Do Not Expect Chocolate. Unless it is that curious thing called a deep fried Mars bar.

3.     Occasionally contemplate how well your enemies heads would look in wall niches.

4.     Know the Gaelic word for Englishman. Use it as a cuss word frequently

5.     Keep your sporran at the correct height, men, It was originally to protect your private parts. Although how much protection a bag of oats is a subject for discussion.

6.     Realize that you are usually on the losing side of a war. That’s how your ancestors got to this country isn’t it? But you’ll fight anyway, it’s the fight that counts, right?

7.     Realize the dour expression on the face of most Scots comes from wearing woolen underwear. It’s not polite to scratch.

8.     Bathe regularly, remember the English hated us because we did. They couldn’t smell us coming but we could sure smell them.

9.     Always play with your target before going in for the kill. There is a reason so many Scottish clans have cats on their clan badges.

10. Remember the old saying: The Irish drink as an avocation, the Scots do it as a profession. That’s why whisky has no “e” in it, so you can ask for it quicker.

11.  Be able to identify your clan badge or tartan at 50 yards. Be able to identify your enemies at a 100 yards, especially Campbells.

12.  Pick your most obvious and least favourite physical characteristic. You will spend the rest of your life named for it; i.e. Cross-eyed Mairi, Big Nose John, Cameron means crooked or broken nose and Campbell means crooked mouth in Gaelic.

13.  Remember that this is also the country that invented Covenanters and Presbyterianism, Some of us are rabid teetotalers and no fun is allowed! (except for making sure no one else is having any either.)

14. Remember that the Scots take the saying: Never suffer a fool gladly, literally. Don’t be an idiot more than you need to be.

15. Remember, it is your nature to sulk, bear a grudge, take vengeance and switch sides. After all, the Highlanders are still mad at the Campbells after 300 years. The Scots have hated the English since at least 1200 A.D. Why should you be any different?

16. Remember that your little Scottish granny can still beat the crrrapp out  of you. No matter how tall or old you are or how tall or old she is.

17. Believe in faeries and second sight if just to have an excuse for the results of a whole night spent a drink that started with Glen…. If you do have second sight be as vague as possible. The more vague the more famous you will be.

18. And last but not least, the Scots have no internal emotions. All emotions are external, at least in Gaelic. I love you; Tha gaol agam ort, translates I have love for me on you. Romantic, huh?

Do you still want to be a Celt/Gael?

Suas Alba!

Slainte’ mhath, slainte’ mhor

A h-uile latha

Chi’s naic fhaic.

The Flame we keep

I was born as I flew from the flint down through the air into the straw in a bowl many hundreds of years ago. The bowl was carried by a woman to a lamp and I have been tended by women ever since, a constant parade of ever changing and ever the same women, always 19 at a time.

Women of all sizes and shapes, at first they were mostly women with red hair like my flame or hair dark as the soot I leave behind or hair as grey as ash. I burned year after year tended by these 19 women but every 20 days and I was left alone. Then I was tended by the Goddess who seemed as ever changing as the women. Some times she was young as a spring lamb and as fresh as dew chanting poetry and singing as she kept watch. Sometimes she was older and had muscles and would come in blackened and sooty and smelling of iron and sweat. Sometimes she was much older and came in smelling of flowers and leaves and had a peace in her face as she tended me that soothed my fiery spirit.

It went for years like this first tended by women robed in white or green who sang to their Goddess and of the people they prayed for and much later the women changed to a somber black robe and were swathed in cloth and only their faces and their hands were visible to me. They sang different songs. Songs that didn’t always seem to be about their Goddess but the Goddess still came. She used to wink at me and tell me stories. She said they didn’t always know who she was anymore but she loved that they still faithfully tended her.

Then the men came, men in steel like the Goddess smelled of, men reeking of hate and with ugly looks on their faces and they tried to douse me with water and leave me as a steaming and cold thing. They didn’t know that the women had taken a gift from me and hidden me in a lantern and took me in a boat over the water. I burned and burned in that new land for hundreds of years and then, not so long ago more women brought me home and I am tended again in this place near a well, ever tended by women but now every once in awhile a candle dips into me and I’m taken to a new lamp or a new candle or even sometimes a radiant and lovely bonfire and I am tended by new people. People of all colours and races, people whose faces shine back at me all over the world and not just women but men too. People whose face shines with love for their Goddess or saint, people who pray for other people to be well and strong or whole in what ever way that needs to be even if well and whole means a quiet ending.

And every twenty days my Goddess, Brighid returns to me. Telling me stories and smelling of herbs or of hard work before she goes out again into the world and the people she loves and I shine in many places, on many hearths and I shine for my eternal Goddess.

This story is also available in my book The Heart Town Witch and Other Stories.

What is Brighid Flamekeeper

For anyone who doesn’t know what these strange things called Flameshifts are, something I wrote awhile ago

Adventures and Musings of an Arch Druidess

People who are new to this blog may have noticed a weird thing that appears on my blog every 20 days. Well, every 20 days when I remember to do it online.

The flame is an ancient tradition thought to date back to the 6th century. It is an eternal flame kept in Kildare Ireland. Originally dedicated to the Goddess Brighid (Brigid) by 19 priestesses and on the 20th day the flame was said to be kept by Brighid herself. At the coming of the Christian Era the Church couldn’t beat the worship of the Goddess so they created the saint Brigid and at Kildare the flame continued to be tended by 19 nuns. The Archibishop of London ordered it put out in 1220 but was unsuccessful but King Henry VIII was successful in driving it underground. The flame was kept in Norway by Norwegian Brigantine Sisters until it was…

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Flameshift

Today is my regular Flameshift

Brighid, I light your flame for those who are in pain

Those who are in surgery

Those who need healing.

Brighid, I light your flame for those who need you to walk with them in the dark

Those who walk a path only they can walk

Those who need company on their journey.

Brighid, I light your flame for those who worry about the ones walking alone

For those who want to help and cannot because it isn’t their burden

Those who love and hurt for the ones who are ill.

Brighid, I light your flame for healing

For life

For love.

Brighid, I light your flame.

Kat Robb

2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 40,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 15 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Today’s reading

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  Waters of Life
Ace of Cups

The waters of life retain the ancient wisdom ready for reawakening. The moonlit pool of the universal soul retains all memory, ready to renew the inspired quest.

…one receives new inspiration from ancestral wisdom.

The ice of winter melts with a renewal of inspiration, and one is emotionally awakened. Sensuality returns.