Kinda Tired

The good news is that THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY, MAMM OF PERTH, and MAMM OF TARNOS are all three tucked safely into Kindle. The covers for the print versions will be a long time coming yet, so the print books won't be out for a while, and the Kindle 'covers' are simple photos (but they're good ones!)

I'm kind of looking forward to being able to get back into the artwork zone - found out that the Kindle versions are color-friendly!

YAY!

However, at the moment I have a hankering to take a few hours and read something I didn't write myself, so am taking myself off to Kindle-land for relaxation instead of formatting.

G'night all! It's been a busily productive day.

The Sacred Yew

YEW TO LEY LINES TO TOBERMORY TO DUN URGADUL TO KEY OF SOLOMON TO PRIEST WITH PARISH OF KILNINIAN THROWN IN FOR GOOD MEASURE

No, I am not kidding you.

I’m writing this little thingamabopper about the Sacred Yew because it’s on my mind, right?

Right.

So I go back and look it up again and see an image of it at the intersection of three ley lines (like ‘power’ lines), right?

One goes to Iona and a spot on the east coast, Aberlemno/Montrose. Fine and dandy.

One goes between Eilean Isa (w) and the Holy Island (e). Okay.

The other one connects Marywell (e) with Tobermory (w). Huh? What the heck kind of name is Tobermory?

Me being me, I had to look it up. I just HAD to.

Tobermory means the Well of Mary.

Those guys did that on purpose.

Ya think?

I think.

Now right alongside of Tobermory is this place called Dun Urgadul.

Dun says Pict and/or ancient place name (fort or protection) but what about Urgadul?

Nobody knows.

Me being me, I had to find out. I just HAD to.

Being as Dunnottar has that Swedish king Ottar making sense of the Fother (Scandinavian personal name) of Oppidum Fother, another designation of Dunnottar, I checked Swedish.

Nope.

Germanic?

Nope, no Urgadul there either.

Nothing in Gaelic (Irish or Scots) ringing any bells.

Okay, kick in the Spiral. Break it down like I did Dunnottar.

Ur.

That took me on a very interesting and educational side trip to the olden days in the Middle East, and reminded me that it was familiar because it’s in the Bible, Old Testament.

Not what I was looking for, although I was closer than I thought. Not to Ur, but to Gadul.

But I was still looking for Ur and went back to my round of languages.

Found it in German:  ur => used in words denoting the primal stage of a historical or cultural entity or phenomenon; original; earliest

My, my, what have we here?

Went digging for Gadul, and almost freaked myself out when I found it in a translation of The Key of Solomon.

And I’m going what the heck IS this?

A Hebrew word meaning ‘priest’ hooked onto a Germanic word meaning ‘earliest’, connected by a Pictish word for fort or protection, on a western Scots island, on a ley line, right by an ancient holy well that ended up dedicated to the Virgin Mary (and I bet there was a Yew tree there too or there used to be; they planted them by wells and springs and such).

Went scanning for Dun Urgadul again in general and found that it’s located in KILNINIAN parish.

O_O

And now it makes sense to me. 

I have to say I’m somewhat shocked to find a parish named after Ninian, unless it’s not Roman Catholic, because when I went looking for him in relation to Dunnottar I discovered that the Church seems to have no official records at all of him – as if he never existed – which didn’t surprise me much since Columba was their ‘golden boy’ for Scotland. If they wanted to saint him it wouldn’t look so good if Ninian had beaten him to the punch by a hundred years or more.

I have my own theories on that and don’t believe for one minute that even Ninian would have been bringing anybody any new news when it came to Christianity (although I betcha he warned them about the Roman ‘interpretation’). Yeah, I have a hunch that a little expunging went on in the Ninian-related Church records. That Culdee. *laughing* Columba too, for that matter. I betcha. They ended up kicking out his priests and caused a civil war.

I write fiction; I can say what I want. And I don’t have to expunge anything, heh heh.

Yep.

A couple of hours of research just because a place name didn’t make sense to me, that’s the way I roll.

And it’s not even a place name that has anything to do with my stories.

What the heck.

Maybe I’ll use it in a short story.

Here's my little piece that led to all of the above:

2014  01  28 

THE SACRED YEW

I put a brief conversation into Mamm of Tarnos, between TallUllin and Mamm of Iona, about the Yew. They’re seated beneath it and talking about it a little.

Mamm, after TallUllin explains how one tree can live for such a very long time, immediately draws a parallel between the Yew and the Mother. In a spiritual context there’s much to be said for the girl’s observations.

Here’s a bit I found at 

http://www.3pintsgone.com/lyrics/BeachesOfStValery/StValery/YewTree.htm

"Patriarch of Long-lasting Woods.... "

Mara Freeman, 1996

In early times, the darkly glorious yew-tree was probably the only evergreen tree in Britain. Both Druids with their belief in reincarnation, and later Christians with their teaching of the resurrection, regarded it as a natural emblem of everlasting life. Its capacity for great age: enriched its symbolic value. The early Irish regarded it as one of the most ancient beings on earth. Yew is the last on a list of oldest things in a passage from the fourteenth century Book of Lismore: "Three lifetimes of the yew for the world from its beginning to its end."

The yew's reputation for long life is due to the unique way in which the tree grows. Its branches grow down into the ground to form new stems, which then rise up around the old central growth as separate but linked trunks. After a time, they cannot be distinguished from the original tree. So the yew has always been a symbol of death and rebirth, the new that springs out of the old, and a fitting tree for us to study at the beginning of this new year. As the days now grow longer with the beginning of a new solar cycle, we move into the future on the achievements of the past, new creativity springs forth grounded in the accomplishments of " the year gone by.             . . .

Me, I’d probably have headed it Matriarch, but then I’m not the one who wrote it! 

There are thousands of web-sites about the Sacred Yew so I’ll forego redundancy here except for the above and this bit about the Fortingall Yew in particular.

The Fortingall Yew in Perthshire, Scotland is said to have grown there since long before the birth of Christ and to have been a sacred place from the beginning. Nobody can even guess at who planted it, nor when, although we can make a stab at WHY, and why THERE. Ancient religious beliefs would be the why. And the why there:  It lies at the crossing of three ley lines, for one thing. It’s said to be at or near the center of Scotland, for another. Directly north of it is a mountain of a specific shape, for another. It’s the ‘center’ in more ways than one. Iona to Aberlemno/Montrose, Eilean Isa to the Holy Island, Tobermory to Marywell . . .

So it’s fairly easy to see the logic of Mamm of Iona when she likens the Yew to the Mother in a religious sense.

From the Yew springs new growth, entirely new trees that recombine with the original tree and, when all is said and done, cannot be separated from one another. Mamm equates this with the growth of ‘new’ religions: Pagan, Druid, Culdee, Priest, Christianity . . . all growing from one Source and all serving one purpose: to protect and preserve the Mother Tree.

Despite injuries sustained over the many long years of its life, the Fortingall Yew lives on, testament to tenacity in the face of adversity – on many levels.

At any rate, researching the Yew has finally given me perhaps a little insight regarding parts of my books that I’ve had a hard time figuring out.

See, I write stuff and then maybe research it. Most of the time pertinent information pops up when I’m looking into something totally different. 

For example:  when the Mother is talking to Danann and Sidhelagh of Dunnottar in the grove and says something about how Jesus and Christianity  will be her preservation or some such – and Danann and Sidhelagh just don’t ‘get it’, not when Roman Christianity is doing everything in its power to eliminate the Mother’s place, power, and authority. Their confusion is a reflection of my own, but I left the conversation in as it came to me, even though it didn’t make much sense to me either.

Now, half a year and several books later, I find the Yew.

I was looking for a home place, inland, for Mamm’s family to be centered in and chose Perthshire; close enough to logically come to Dunnottar/Stonehaven at times, but inland.

Bits of information float about in my head all the time and from those bits came reference to archaeological finds indicating a possible Roman ‘scorched earth’ maneuver to the north of Hadrian’s Wall – and the story of Mamm of Perth begins with that story, a couple of hundred years earlier than the Dunnottar main story.

Later still, looking for a logical, centrally located, meeting point for my characters and representatives from Iona, up popped the Sacred Yew. It would have been to that general area that our Perth characters would have fled the burning plains to spend that awful Long Dark following the burning, too.

Finding out that the Sacred Yew really WOULD have been a natural ‘sanctuary’, for people in times of trouble, brought a bit of a shiver to me.

Dunnottar’s grove doesn’t have a Yew, perhaps because it doesn’t rest on a ley line. However, the family home in Perthshire does, which makes sense when I look at a map and see where (in my head) I’ve placed that family home. It would have had to have a Yew.

I also didn’t figure out the reason for adding the Yew twig to the oak leaf, earth, and small stone of the message to Danann of Perth – until long after that bit had been written. Now I’ve learned more of the connections between Iona and the Sacred Yew; it begins to make sense to me that Danann interpreted the combination to mean ‘Come home; you are Called by Iona’ – but at the time my Characters were well ahead of me (as usual – I’m forever baffled by them and I think they get a kick out of it when I finally ‘get it’).

INVITATION TO PREVIEW-REVIEW THEY ARE MY SONG SERIES

I'm in the process of a re-do on the book 'THEY ARE MY SONG' which has to do with a place called Dunnottar, Scotland in the year 487 AD, and the survival of the Mother-based belief systems in the face of male-dominated Roman Christianity.

Not wanting to use the 'Pict' designation of the Romans, I chose Cruithnne instead for a people-name but that's an Irish thing (although better than Pict, IMO) - for the re-write, I've been looking for something that rings bells for me, in terms of linguistics, associations with likely origins of my people, and (mostly) something that makes spiritual sense to me and to my Characters.

Me being me, I went in search of variations on the word Pict-Pect-Brect-etc. with a Germanic base as I have a gut feeling that these early inhabitants came from that neck of the woods, probably being one of the very early Celt or pre-Celt 'tribes' - and found Perchta/Berchta - lo and behold a Goddess associated not only with women but light/white.

So, given the variables in linguistics my reasoning is that perhaps my people's early ancestors came to this western isle in the north sea referring to themselves as 'Perchtanni' or 'Berchtannae' or some such; over the many centuries that could well have 'evolved' into a pronunciation that resembled the Pritani or Priteni, Brittanni, Pechts, and even Prydyn ... local pronunciations, let alone spellings, vary so much that I've found in my own family history searches 'my' family name spelled three different ways within single documents.

None of which probably holds the slightest interest for you and I'm just blabbering on here because I want to and I can!    

Nobody now has any idea what the 'Picts' would have called themselves, let alone what meaning it would have held for them as a people. Because I write fiction I guess I can call them whatever I choose, but I would like to choose as wisely as possible.

The land itself came to be called Alba, Alban, Albann (doubled consonants seeming to be a 'Pictish' thing) meaning 'white' and I've gone with using Albann to designate what is all of today's Scotland, as the subsequent books take place all the way from Dunnottar in the east to Iona in the west, down to the Wall, and up to the Chatton territory in the north.

Having said all THAT, and bearing in mind that what I'm trying to 'portray' in THEY ARE MY SONG is a small community of fairly ordinary folk of the time who find that they must choose to take a stand not only for their own particular belief systems but for the rights of their friends and neighbors to choose for themselves. It's  not Pagan vs Christian; it's freedom to choose vs being dictated to.

It's also about the equal value of each Voice, hence the individual Voices of each of the Characters' various perspectives, and the repeating medley of the Song that twines them all together. If a person wants, they can choose one Character and easily follow him/her through the events that take place, and their development.

This book is not designed to be a traditional easy read, although it is simple in its use of language.

It's also designed to rely on artwork. I put it out (Kindle/Amazon) 'as is' instead of including the artwork to the extent that I designed it for. That too will be a major change in the final edition I'm putting together now. It's my bad that I allowed what amounts to a really rough draft to be published - so it's up to me to fix it. 

If you might be interested in reviewing what I'm calling the P4 version of THEY ARE MY SONG, let me know and I can email it to you - in parts or in total, whatever you choose.

I also have the next two books done; they're based on THEY ARE MY SONG's Characters and have a double story line. One follows the SONG Characters while the other follows the generational history of a family heirloom; it's the Long Dark, story-telling time in the roundhouse.

These first four of the subsequent books I call the Mamm Books; they do NOT have either the individual Character Voices nor the artwork, and are written and presented in a more 'traditional' manner.

I don't expect the final version of THEY ARE MY SONG to be completed to my satisfaction any time soon; it might well be the last of this series to come out - while I thoroughly enjoy the writing of the others, SONG has been a mystic journey for me from the get-go and I'm going to, in the end, get it presented the way it was designed to be presented.

Thanks, if you've gotten this far through all my maunderings. My lineage traces back to mostly Celt origins and I've also got an INFJ personality type to contend with ... sigh. INFJ is a Myers Briggs Type Inventory thing so be fairly warned! Do not expect 'normal'. Do not expect 'ordinary'.

Blessings,

Shiela aka Sidhelagh

STAY HOME!

Nope.
Not gonna do it.
Got ready for work, was going to leave way early to give myself time.
Looked outside.
Not too awful (I live in town).
Stepped outside.
Almost blew over in the wind.
Went back inside.
Checked the weather again.
Below zero and dropping fast, wind chills in the fifties below coming up right quick.
Checked the road report.
No travel advised.
Imagine that.

Getting home from my part time job last night took me a good hour or so because I at least like to FEEL the road (thank God for the center and side lane rumble strips; had to use them a time or two last night when I couldn't see the road at all). So I poked along trying to keep an eye on that white line, sped up a time or two when it got clear for a few seconds only to have to slow right back down. And I was driving on the 'good' side of the road. The other lane had pillow drifts, which caused a white-out for me by on-coming vehicles. So when a faint glow appeared ahead of me, I pulled way over to the outer rumble strip, slowed way down, and rode the strip until I could catch a glimpse of the white line again. The fact that I wasn't the ONLY crazy fool to be out driving in that was no comfort to me at ALL. The kicker of the whole thing was that I COULD see farm lights and finally the lights of my town - but the ground blizzard was keeping me from seeing the road that I had to stay on in order to GET to those lights.

Frustrating and stressful.
It was not a fun thing.
Took me an hour to un-tense my muscles when I finally got home.

And today is worse, even though it's bright outside (relatively speaking). The sky is white instead of blue but at least it's daytime.
When it gets like this they'll pull the plows, because really what's the point of plowing when it isn't doing any good? The wind dominates and un-does their work before they even have a chance to make any headway.

Don't get me wrong; I love the heck out of that job, but honestly? I requested a weather-related early out last night and got told 'No'.
Frankly I wasn't all that amused by her idea of a 'joke'.
That trip home didn't make me want to laugh, either.

Now, I'm not real big on taking advice as a general rule, but from now on when the NDDOT suggests that I stay home, I'm likely to STAY HOME!

P.S. Mamm of Iona is champing at the bit

As soon as I get another set of days off, she'll be getting up to all kinds of shenanigans I betcha. 

Getting ready ...

Getting ready ... to have even more fun!!!

It seems strange that I already have several items on my list of wardrobe needs for 487 AD.

Remember I said that I used one of my scrub tops as a pattern for the black and red checked tunic I made? 

As I was pulling that same one out to use again, I had a 'DUH!' moment when I realized it is of red and white check. There's also another one just like it, in an olive-ish green check, and another of red and white check with a little black threading through the bigger but still pretty small checks.

I can use all three of those, and of course the scrub pants that go with them, one plain red, one plain green of that olive-ish color. And I just found a length of black cotton to make into yet another pair of pants!

Of COURSE they look like scrubs ... they ARE scrubs. 

They also just happen to meet all of the requirements for clothing from 487 AD. The small checks, as opposed to the plaids, have been called 'shepherd's plaids' or 'kitchen plaids' - and they're perfectly fine, those simple ginghams - or stripes, for that matter although I haven't got anything in stripes (yet).

It's the accessories and the environment that make the difference. 

I doubt you noticed, but just beneath the red and black check tunic in the photo is a length of fabric of small black and white check. This is going to be one of my cloaks, and there's enough for me to make a pair of pants as well! 

Some of these bitterly cold days I sincerely wish that I had already finished the cloaks I want to make. This one, the black and white check, is going to be lightweight in and of itself, but the fabric is thick enough and tough enough to take a good sheepskin lining; if I can figure out how to make a detachable one, I'll be able to use it year-round.

Indeed.

While I'm dreaming, I also want knee-high warm boots to go with that cloak, lined in the same sheepskin, probably white with black leather laces to criss-cross up the outside and tie at the top.

But for now I'm just hoping to get done what I've already got on my plate. The cold-weather things will have to wait until the warm weather gets here and my heating bill allows me to afford to buy all that sheepskin. 

Also on my list is to make myself a sporran. I have no idea whether or not they were called any such thing, but the bags that they've found to hang at the belts of women can't be all that different from the ones the men had. The ones I've found on line are made of just about anything: leather, woven fabric, different furs from small animals. There was even a skunk one! 

I've got the leather belts, one brown, one black, and the buckles, while modern, will have to do. I also made a brown fabric one to go with those brown pants I made - but I have a feeling I'm going to prefer the leather ones as they're bound to be stronger - and who knows what I'm going to decide to hang on my belts!

SO:
I've got (or will have shortly):
red and black check tunic
black pants
red and white check tunic
red and white check tunic w/black
red pants
yellow chiton dress
brown pants w/matching fabric belt
green and white check tunic
green pants to match
black and white check cloak
black and white check pants
white cotton tunic
white cotton chiton top
black/grey/white plaid pants
saffron/white/light green simple drawstring dirndl skirt
black ballet slippers (until I can make or buy sandals, shoes, boots)
sept (from septem, even in Latin, remember?) bracelet
sept ring
forearm wire wrap connected to a pair of triple finger rings
little copper wire torc
little 'silver' torc
simple 'silver' headband/circlet
a bunch of simple spiral bangle bracelets
ankle and calf wire wrap
spiral armlet for upper arm

hmmm ...

I need to take myself to a bunch of second-hand stores I see. People with a lot more money than I have would just go shopping on line for fabric - but maybe it's the legendary Scots thrift (more like my own legendary state of being dirt poor) that takes me to thrift shops!  

I find that, if I'm lucky (and the quest is part of the fun of it!), I can find fabrics that meet my needs. Since I'm not all THAT big, I go to the large sizes and shop there. If I find something I like, I take it home, take it apart, and put it back together however I want. Like that skirt I turned into a tunic with just a little cutting and stitching.

Another likely shopping area in thrift shops is the household fabric goods. Sheets, tablecloths, blankets, and curtains all have a lot of fabric in big pieces. My dirndl skirt started out as a tablecloth. 

Just sayin' is all ... comfortable, easy to make, fun outfits can be put together without a lot of fuss or expense.

Started My Song Wardrobe

Actually, I started the wardrobe last year or whenever it was that I decided to turn the fabric (which I loved) from a skirt (which I hated) into a scrub top for my job. Here's a crummy photo of a wrinkled top. If you're curious about how come I would post a crummy photo of a wrinkled top, it's because it's the middle of the night and I am not going to iron it right now. Here you go:

Little did I know that I was making something I'd be able to use as part of a wardrobe I had no idea I was going to want. 

Took the waistband off the skirt and one of my scrub tops fit right onto it, one of the ones with just front and back pieces, so easy I can't believe I messed it up! See that little black edging down on the right hand corner? Yeah. I sewed the pieces together backwards so the back is inside out. LOL 

If I happen to get really ambitious one day I might take it apart and fix it, but what the heck. I've worn it that way for over a year now, off and on of course, not straight through for heaven's sake, and nobody's said anything about it except one lady and she thought it was so cool she told me how much she likes it. 

ANYWAY - the thing about that top is that it's 100% wool (supposed to dry clean it but I don't) and those black and red checks would have been perfectly acceptable for my time period; even the white thread is good! And the fact that the neck opening is too big so I have to pin it makes it even better, believe it or not Ripley. I did my homework and was going to make myself one for my wardrobe and realized HEY I already HAVE one!

So go ME!  

The other day I was fighting with some fabric I bought to make a cloak or something out of, at least a practice one. It's 100% cotton, not linen or wool, but I figured it would be fine because my characters would have traded for it (nice, having rich characters - they can get their hands on anything that was available in the world back then, just by telling a trader that they want it ... it might take a while, but they'll get it!). When I realized that this piece of fabric was exactly the size of the big plaids (more homework doing its job for me - those suckers were/are five feet by eighteen feet; my fabric's 60" wide and six yards long, PERFECT) I thought: good! I can practice getting it on right.

Well, that didn't work out so well for me and I lost the fight.

No, I didn't cuss out loud but I wanted to. 

Turns out I needn't have fought at all.

Nobody knows much of anything about tartans, plaids, belted kilts, or anything else so related, for my time period, except that they did indeed use checks and stripes and 'plaid design' fabrics. Plain colors, too. 

So I'm good to go on that count.  My characters generally use their 'plaids' to wrap up in like blankets, anyway, which has always been one of their uses. For anything else, I can do whatever I want.

It may not be right, but nobody can tell me it's wrong, either!

Besides, it's all for fun and illustration - I'm not doing technical re-enactments here, just playing a part.

If Mel could put kilts into a time when they hadn't been used yet I ought to be able to get away with this.

Back to my wardrobe.

I'm going to use that honkin' big hunk of fabric I was fighting with to make a pattern for a hooded cloak.  

Since I just made two, one for practice and one for somebody's Halloween costume, back in October and it's only January now, you'd think I'd be able to remember how it's done - and yes I do remember. It's pretty easy, although not as easy as the chiton dress I made today, or the pants, or the top for that matter. It's still darned easy, even with a lining in the hood. 

So I've got the top, the pants, a dress, and tomorrow will have a lightweight hooded cloak - and I can use it for a liner for the black and white checked one of heavier fabric that I just found again after I had forgotten I had it. It's been sitting around for years and I can't even remember what I was going to make out of it - a cape maybe - which is what it's going to be after all! Good grief. HOODUH THUNK!?! 

To give myself a break from sewing tomorrow, if I need breaks which I'm pretty sure I will, I can design some more accessories, and maybe even figure out something on the shoe thing.

When it comes to shoes it would probably be just fine for me to get a pair of leather thong style sandals. It's not like I'll have to wear this stuff when it's cold out (I hope) but just for the nice months of the year.

Although, come to think of it, those sheepskin boots for the Winter Solstice ceremony (outside) sound like something it would be worth making - and using!

And that's just about enough of that for this night. I was supposed to be going to sleep almost four hours ago already.

METAMORPHOSIS

2014 01 21 DEVELOPMENT OF UNDERSTANDING

METAMORPHOSIS might be a better word.

The book THEY ARE MY SONG in its original form is exactly that. An original form.

It is the way it came to me and is presented as such.

The entire process was largely an exercise in communication, so to speak.

I wrote my narrative of things and then consulted my Characters for their reactions and their input. There were times I had to go back into the narrative and try to add things that the Voices made reference to.

Seeing as how my consultants lived more than 1500 years ago, nothing much about the whole thing is going to make much sense to anyone who is looking for a ‘traditional book’.

It’s a bit like presenting someone with a broken piece of rusted iron and expecting them to know that it’s a piece of horse harness from 525 BC Britain. Even the most knowledgeable have to have SOME kind of context and the average Joe or Jane on the street is going to take one look at that bit of rusted iron, refuse to touch it, and tell you to toss it on the scrap heap.

On the other hand, that same bit of rusted iron, when presented within the framework of a museum, in context with the rest of the harness all put back together again as it was when in actual use, might well be an object of awe and fascination. ‘They knew how to do THAT clear back THEN? How did they figure it out?’

And so my Cast of Characters and I are on a journey together. We want to not only come to know and trust one another (to communicate, so to speak) but to be able to communicate with others as well.

So how to ‘translate’?

I’m finding that the process is surprisingly archaeological-like and/or psychoanalytical in that the initial ‘finds’ most likely will not be understood until they can be seen within a wider framework of knowledge.

Essentially, the original form is only going to be able to be understood by ‘working back to it’.

In the original work, They Are My Song, the communication begins as stilted and formal but both they and I are TRYING.

It’s a little on the mystic side, so if you’re not mystically inclined you’re most likely not going to get it, from the concept right on through the whole thing. And that’s okay; you’re in the majority, where you’re most comfortable.

For those of you who are ‘on the other hand’ types, you might understand this:  When I first asked the Characters, ‘Okay, how do you see this? What is your perspective?’ the reaction was to my LITERAL request; I got descriptions.

Through the progression they become more open about their PERSPECTIVES – and a lot of that doesn’t show up in the pages of the book but came separate from it – and my narratives become more perceptive.

The narratives are meant to be ‘frames’ from inside of which the Characters are able to convey their individual reactions both external and internal. By the end of the book these are almost entirely internal; the Characters are letting us see inside of them.

One of the reasons for each of the Characters having a Voice of his/her own is so that we can follow them individually through the events of the book’s time span. 

The following will make this a long piece, but let’s follow one of them.

Which one?

When I asked who would speak, it was Talorc who took the plunge, and the lead. So Talorc it is. Here is his introduction.

Talorc Speaks

I am Talorc

I walk

The path of Tomorrow, of Hope

My arm is strong

As is my heart 

For one without the other

Is an empty thing

I build Today

For Tomorrow

My shoulders are broad

And they need to be

As I carry the burden

Of leadership

Though I seek it not

I walk with Caileen

We love

We endure

Always

MAY DAY 487 AD

Who speaks first of the lazy hazy easy days just before all the changes begin happening?

Talorc Speaks

                      

I smile in the sunshine of Dunnottar on this day. 

Everyone is busy and I watch them all, before taking this load of straw over to Caileen to chop it to add to the daub mixture.  She has been fretting about the little cracks that show up in our house walls and is determined to seal them all up.  She might not LIKE doing it, but she does it.

Sass is tending her herb gardens, the dogs outside the perimeters she has set them, barking now and then. 

Sidhelagh is in the grove, trimming grass and small branches.  Oh, she’s got Little Merri up a tree with a little ax, trimming up there – and there goes Sidhelagh, climbing the same tree! 

The men wave me over to where they’re planting new young trees to add to the horses’ wind break.  I’d better get this straw delivered and go help them.  They are all there except Danann – he’s in the smithy.

Yes, the day is clear and sunny, everyone’s busy and happy, but … Caileen is looking at the sky too, with a little frown.  I know how she feels.  It LOOKS all right, but … ah, maybe it’s just my imagination. 

MID-JUNE 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

Caileen wipes sweat from her face.  I know how she feels but this has got to be done.  We want a GOOD crop this year.

Hmmm – looks like Caileen will get her wish for something besides these weeds. 

Okay, let’s go!

It feels good to be running our horses and they are loving it too! 

Uh-oh, here come the birds.  I wonder if that’s Mamm’s doing or if Sass just wanted them to have some fun.  Looks like they’re having fun, all right! 

Those poor raiders bit off more than they could chew THIS time I expect!  The birds will follow them all the way home and they’ll have to clean their boat as WELL as their clothes!  Not to mention their hair and everything else. 

Tonight’s feast is another good thing, a good way to end a fun day.  The Stonehaven people are our neighbors but we so rarely see them.  Thank God they’re smart enough to run our way when they need to run!  Getting to know them is going to be great.

SUMMER SOLSTICE 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

Everyone is laughing and all are happy on this night. 

There is cause for the happiness and my spirit is peaceful within the merriment. 

There are our new members over there, surrounded with people all hugging them in welcome. 

I will join them shortly with hugs of my own. 

I’m not usually much of a hugger, but this night is kind of special. 

Being a part of the Song makes it special each time. 

I wonder if the ones who Hear and Respond understand that they are just as much a part of it as the Voices. 

They are, you know.  Not just for the moment of the Song, but forever.  They will carry the Song within them for always, and the Spirit of it will never leave them.  They will pass that on to their younglings, who will in turn Hear the Song and Respond – and so on it will go through the ages. 

It is timeless, this Song – God sees to that. 

EARLY July 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

The younglings make me laugh.  The looks on their faces as they cleaned and stored the catch!  They were trying so hard not to look disgusted – but they came through and got the job done. 

There are plenty of things we would ALL rather do than THAT, this is true.  But it’s all a part of the whole and it must be done – and so we do it. 

And they learn more than just how to clean fish.  Watching them working together to help one another makes my spirit sing.  They do this naturally; I need not prompt them, and that makes me proud of them.  I tell them so and their backs straighten, their chins lift a little, and they smile with a quiet pride. 

That is what it’s all about, bringing that pride to their minds every chance we get – for when they have THAT, they will seek and find it in all they do, no matter what they choose for their paths. 

As for those strangers among us, someone has gone too far in the teaching of pride to them.  They have lost, or perhaps never had, the ‘helping one another’ part of the equation. 

July 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

I thought my head was never going to stop pounding this morning!  Those women didn’t help things a darned bit – although I admit we had it coming. 

                 

I’ve almost run out of the supplies Sass sent in my pack, but the day is almost over now so I think we’ll be all right. 

Forest has been hit hard by this storm.  Trees are down and not all could get to shelter fast enough to avoid injury.  I’m not sure that man whose head got in the way of a big branch is going to make it; we might be grieving tomorrow.  But Saille did everything she could for him so he has a chance and we all have Hope.  It’s been hours now, but if he moves any time soon, even a flicker of an eyelid, Hope will win out and we’ll be celebrating. 

Everyone is picking up branches, and cutting up whole trees that have gone down. 

The animals seem to have made it through in fine shape.  They know ahead of time and head for shelter quicker than we do. 

Ah!  He moves!  His eyes behind their lids, and now a finger!  Whew!  I’ll have good news for Saille this night.

EARLY AUGUST 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

The strangers are gone, but to where do they go? 

Whose younglings will they next try to attract with their tales, and will the big ones be strong enough to hold their younglings to the Father, the Mother, and the Son? 

We have not lost our old symbols, the teaching tools by which the younglings are reminded of our ways.  They are a part of the Holy Trinity, have always been and will always be – but already there are younglings and even big ones who can no longer tell the meanings behind the symbols. 

Who besides the Cuimhne Daoine remember the ancient meanings?  We are many here in this land and feel often secure – but have we forgotten that this land is but a tiny part of the whole larger world?  Yes, we are many HERE but still we are very much alone in the bigness of the world. 

Mother, do not ever leave us or we will not survive.  Holy Trinity we are going to need Your protection – I have a fear for the days to come, the days of our younglings and those who will follow.  I beg you, Holy Trinity, do not allow Your Light among us to be extinguished else the entirety of the world will be plunged into darkness.  Preserve this little flicker as darkness falls.  Hold fast to us as we hold fast to You. 

Ah Caileen, tomorrow we gather the younglings and remind them of the Spiral, the Dove, the Cross, and the weavings without beginning or end.  We remind them of the Father, the Mother, the Son, and the creation born of Their Will.  

LATE AUGUST 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

These ‘attackers’ from Beyond have cost us all another day of work, but it’s been so much fun that nobody really minds all that much.

Besides the concern we all have regarding the influence the strangers are apparently capable of and the trouble it can generate, the one thing that sticks out in my mind about this day is the way this whole area responded so quickly and effectively.  Mamm has suggested that we speak to people from each general area about getting together for a meeting, and so we have done. 

All are excited about the results of this day, and everyone’s having a terrific time getting to know everyone else, so it’s ended up being a blessing, this ‘attack’ by Beyond. 

Caileen and I are to set a date and send word to the areas so they can send a couple of people to the meeting.  It ought to be good for all of us. 

The ‘attackers’ seem to be in shock.  They eat what is put before them and nod at people – but not a one of them has spoken a single word since leaving the Grove.  I expect that’s the Mother’s doing. 

EARLY SEPTEMBER 487 AD

There are no ‘Character Voices’ per se for this part because who wants to hear a business meeting under way or re-hashed after the fact. 

[note: Talorc and Caileen host and preside at this meeting; they are the diplomats and administrators of Dunnottar.]

MID-SEPTEMBER 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

With everyone once more in the same place at the same time, we passed the word and had an informal meeting among the representatives of all of our area. 

We’re all hearing the same thing from the traders: 

-         They find us an impressive group because we all get along so well

-         They know who we are and what Dunnottar means and are worried about us

-         They warn ALL that it’s not just the Cuimhne Daoine that might be in danger – NONE in this area have chosen Rome’s way, and Rome will not stand for that …

I think we can forestall any drastic measures for our lifetimes, and perhaps those of our younglings, but the ones who follow might have a fight on their hands. 

Already, for many years, we have nurtured among us those who have become skilled at duplicity.  It sounds bad and goes against our grain, but if we can keep Rome believing we are no threat for a time yet we can continue to train our younglings in the old ways as well as the new and with each generation we as a people will become stronger.  Ninian was right.  When the time comes for a confrontation we will HAVE the strength to stand together.

FALL EQUINOX 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

You have to love it when a plan comes together!  This celebration has run smooth as silk through a brass ring and all are thoroughly enjoying it!

Even though so much has been crowded into one day, it has all gone perfectly on schedule and the only complaints we get are that there is not enough time.

We will have to see if people would want three days rather than one for this part of the Fall Blessing.  It’s going so well that many are already wishing this day would not end.

The different leaders are all patting one another on the back for coming up with such a fun and well-organized day for our people.

The sense of last night’s ceremony lingers among us – the Spirit with which we were all filled continues in laughter and Song – the awe and reverence of last night has this fun side to it as well!  Even Danann laughs out loud on this day!

We shall preserve days like this for the ones to come.  The younglings are already bonding together; those bonds will strengthen over time and days like this one will be many among them!

OCTOBER 487 AD

Talorc Speaks

Caileen!  Kalann’s horn sounds!  Grab that cart; here come the weapons carts from Dunnottar!  Better grab Aine and Kalann's stuff – we’ll get to them quicker than they can get here – okay let’s GO! 

Here, you drive; I have the stronger arm. 

Get up here you two!  Stay with us, do you hear me?  STAY   WITH   US. 

Oh no. 

Caileen, look at their banners, their tunics. 

These aren’t northerners – they’re the ones the traders warned us about!  See?  There’s that symbol Alianora and Drustann told us about – they come from Rome! 

They must NOT get onto Dunnottar!  The younglings are there! 

Except for these two.  I hope you two are ready to take your stand because it looks like today is the day for all of us to stand. 

Okay, the cart to Aine and Kalann!  Caileen, Call our horses here, will you please?

Ah here they come, nicely done!

What do you mean you didn’t know you could do that? 

Never mind, we’ll talk about it later.

Here we go!  You two watch our backs, okay? 

Augh!  Take THAT! 

Oh no!  Caileen, go back, go back!  To Sidhelagh, she Calls! 

Ah, Danann. 

Somebody’s gonna reap a whirlwind today. 

Father, Mother, Son – heed us, help us, we have need of You. 

AAAAAAAHHH ! ! ! !

Voices all, Voices Call.  Hear our prayer, Holy Trinity! 

Ha.  And the Sidhe of the Ages, good deal. 

Sidhelagh, what are you DOING?  Let the Trinity take care of that guy! 

Ah no –

Sass, don’t !! 

One behind each of us NOW! 

They’re going on after them; it’s necessary I know, but they’ve got it covered. 

There goes Sass toward Dunnottar, Caileen.  What do you want to do? 

Okay younglings, you take Caileen’s horse.  Try to keep up; we’ll meet you on Dunnottar.  That’s where we’re needed right now and you’re coming with us.    

So Speaks the Voice of Talorc.

He is one Character of the Cast of Dunnottar.

All have Voices of their own; all are equally important.

To those who want to know why I separated the Voices from the narrative: it is to acknowledge that each and all HAVE a Voice and that ALL have equal weight.

I don’t believe that one can write a book, even in the third person, and give equality to each and all of the characters.

Had I to choose a perspective from which to tell this story, the story would never have been told. 

It is in the telling of this story that the Characters have been able to show themselves individually, to demonstrate their development – and they do so by the use of their Voices.