Sunday, May 31, 2015

WHOOP! Tomorrow Looks Good!



Starting right now I've got a whole bunch of days off!

I'm trying to be stern with myself about getting to sleep at a reasonable time, but as usual I'm not paying much attention to my own lectures.

A quick check of the forecast informs me that come afternoon it's going to be beautiful.

A walk through my yard on my way to the house after work tonight informs me that the grass hasn't gotten any shorter since the last day I got it mowed.

Put the two together and guess what's on my agenda for tomorrow afternoon.

Since the following couple of days look like inside projects, they look even better to me than tomorrow does - and the reason for that is that it means studio time for me!

There are some horses and ponies patiently waiting for my attention, and some riders anxious to be included.

Because, as a general rule, I tend to work on more than one project at a time I get to consult my list of possibilities and pick one or two others to break up my sketching and painting with sculpting or writing or sewing or twining wire or any of a dozen other options. 

My suspicion is that the writing is the most likely candidate as the Younglings of Dunnottar are at the fore of my thoughts. They want to get on with their adventures but Merri and Dothann aren't even there yet - so first is going to be to write that book to go with the ones for Diann, Corrbed, and Rua. Then we can get on with the getting on!

  • Mon

    Jun 1

    Some sun; breezy, warmer74°Lo 58°
  • Tue

    Jun 2

    Strong t-storms, mainly later72°Lo 52°
    more
  • Wed

    Jun 3

    A morning shower or t-storm64°Lo 50°
    more
  • Thu

    Jun 4

    Partly sunny71°Lo 54°
    more

Crying Baby Memory Triggered By On Line Story



My third daughter was born to us during a return to college for me, more than 25 years ago now, at the University of North Dakota in Grand Forks.

She went to class with me many times and charmed everyone; nobody ever said a negative word, traditional-aged students opened doors for us when we used the stroller, and it was a joy all the way around. She went along with me to the computer lab when I had computer work to do there. That was before personal computers were all that common and beyond the budgets of most of us student-parents. My months-old baby never caused a disturbance although she did get plenty of attention.

At the time I was working for Student Government. We were nursing and there were times I needed to pump milk both for later use and for my own comfort. Nobody so much as gave me a funny look when I would suddenly stop what I was doing to take a break because I needed to 'express myself'.

Thinking back, the experience was a lot more special than I realized at the time.

The early months of that pregnancy were risky, and there was a fire or some such at the Student Union where the Student Government offices were located.

My boss kicked me out of the Union until it was safe for me to come back (on both counts). The minutes of the Standing Committees still had to be transcribed, and it was my job to do it as I'd been the one to take the minutes in my own peculiar minute-taking way. They sent a computer home with my husband; I sat up in bed and worked.

The on line story that both of my youngest daughters shared has to do with a professor who, when a baby cried in class, simply picked up the little one and continued with class.

The memory it triggered has to do with my own crying baby, and college.

We weren't in class at the time. We were at the State Capitol in Bismarck for NDISL (North Dakota State Intercollegiate State Legislature) where I was a Representative for UND. The primary legislation I was co-presenting with one of UND's Student Senators had to do with the availability of quality affordable child care on North Dakota campuses (and in government facilities). 

The bill was about to be voted on in the Senate when I was called out of the committee meeting I was in regarding other proposed legislation. My partner sent word that my own presence was required on the floor of the Senate immediately as our legislation was in danger of not passing.

My little daughter in my arms, I raced to get there in time. She was justifiably upset by my rush and began crying. Standing on the rotunda, I didn't know what to do. I had nobody to hold her while I went down to say my piece, and she was crying harder than ever.

So there I stood, expecting to see the legislation, which I had worked my tail off on, go down the tubes in front of my eyes. I couldn't go down there and try to say anything over the cries of my baby.

Needless to say, of all times for her to have chosen as her one and only time to disrupt things, it couldn't have been a worse choice. Not that she chose, mind you. It's just an expression.

I was about to join her tears when an older man walked up to us, smiled, and offered to hold my crying baby.

Taking her in his apparently experienced arms, he gave her a bounce or two, patted her backside, and smiled at me again.

'She'll be fine,' he said reassuringly. 'She just needs a change.'

When I went to take her back so as to go and change her, he smiled again.

'It won't hurt her to cry for a minute.'

When I gave him a puzzled look, he asked, nodding to the Floor of the Senate, 'Is that your piece of legislation they're voting on?'

Miserably, I could only nod, tears in my eyes.

'Let her cry,' he advised. 'Just for a minute more.'

And he was right.

It didn't hurt her to cry for a minute more.

Then I took her off to change her and nurse her. 

There was nothing I could do or say at that point anyway. The vote got under way as soon as I took my crying baby from the rotunda so that the Senate could hear again. I didn't want to be there to watch it fail and took my time about getting back.

When I did, the older man was still standing there.

He grinned at me, reached out to hold my little daughter again, who was in a much more typical frame of mind now, and told me that the legislation had passed.

Nothing like a crying baby on the rotunda to present a convincing case for the need to have child care facilities on site.

One of the things about NDISL is the bills/resolutions that we got through both the House and the Senate got passed on to the regular State Legislature for consideration.

Child care facilities improved and/or were put into place in our state.

The older man who held my baby and let her cry for just one more minute?

He was the then-Governor of North Dakota, Governor Guy. I have to confess that I hadn't even recognized him. Had other things on my mind, I guess. Like a baby I really wanted to change and feed.

By the time that daughter was in high school she was tutoring younger students. Her educational degree(s) and certifications now qualify her to teach babies through the early grades; she has taught them well even as her own education continues.

lead photo clipart crying-babies130125.jpg, cropped

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Kids Nowadays - I Tell Ya!!

Maybe I'm just blessed in a special way, but it seems that most of the 'kids' who come into my life these days are truly awesome people.

Not all of course, but honestly the percentage is amazing to me.

Kudos go to their parents for raising them, but mostly the kudos go to the young people themselves who choose to be the people they are, who give me hope for the future.

Watching, hearing, reading the news these days can be a terrifying thing ... and then along come these wonderful people, our next generation growing into their adult lives, and I have to sigh with relief.

That's my Happy Thought for this day.

Friday, May 29, 2015

I'm INFJ And Someone Told Me To Tell A Lie

And I almost fainted.

Are you kidding me?

You want me to do WHAT?

Yep, you're going to go tell so and so such and such.

Well now.

In the first place, so and so, not being dim-witted, and having been right there when such and such was supposed to have occurred, isn't likely to believe any such lie.

Me being me, and having respect, admiration, and trust in the person who was telling me that I had to go tell this lie, took myself to the person I was supposed  to lie to.

Me being me, which means INFJ, did it my own way.

Of course I announced ahead of time that I was going to tell a lie, and then I told it.

Nobody told me I couldn't confess ahead of time.

Really.

What did they expect?

The person I was supposed to lie to just so happens to be another person whom I respect, admire, and trust - and have for a very long time - who also just so happens to know me quite very well.

It was a strange and awkward position to have been put into out of the clear blue sky.

Even so, I did tell the lie.

Then I told the truth, which is most generally a lot more effective and efficient, anyway.


The path was there and I took it.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Dunnottar/Stonehaven Area Has Again Charmed This Woman

First it was the Fireballs; then it was the Mearns Leader (a continuing joy because I get to see what's going on clear over there from clear over here); then it was on line friends; then it was finding Dunnottar's on line sites ... 

And now I'm sitting here at my desk, in my writing study, clear over here, and I'm stunned to my very soul because of people, clear over there, who have stepped into my heart and brought to it warmth and kindness.

You see, I've had a pretty specific need ... the Younglings of Dunnottar have to have faces for the covers and illustrations of their books. And (believe it or not) fictional Characters really can and do develop into their own 'selves' over time. The Younglings wanted 'faces' from their OWN area, not just any faces.

And me, I'm going, 'What the heck. How many kids do I know around Stonehaven/Dunnottar? In Scotland at all? Zero, that's how many.' 

WHY have I been 'blessed' with such demanding Characters?!

So, me being me, I said a prayer and went on line to ask for help.

WOW.

I'm pretty sure there are words to describe the gratitude I'm feeling, but for the life of me those words are at present beyond my grasp.

Soon the parental permissions and photos will provide these young Characters with the faces they've been wanting.

WHEW - big sigh of relief. 

I tell you true, I'm more impressed than I already was, and I didn't think that was even possible.

And so, again, a HUGE thank you goes out - from me, but mostly this time from the Younglings of Dunnottar who will soon be mounted on their horses  and ponies (wearing the faces they want to be wearing!!) and on their way to adventure!

We're doing this for the fun of it, and the biggest part of the fun is turning out to be the making of new friends along the path.





The Younglings of Dunnottar - some background information on them ...

Here are the horses and ponies in rough draft, waiting for their riders!


Below is a sort of introduction to the Younglings of Dunnottar. As I begin on their books, it helps for me to have firmly in my mind both their individual personalities and their different backgrounds.

There are a couple of 'Brann' books out, from when he was a 'little' which means basically a pre-school age - they're sort of coloring books along with the Stories in them.

The setting of the books (so far) is way back in the long time ago of the late 400s CE (A.D.) and thing were different, although people are people no matter when or where they live ... the main themes of all of the books are Faith, Family, Friends, Freedom, and the Future - so the younglings adventures are liable to include elements of those things.

In the late 400s CE Europe was in chaos after the 'fall' of the Western Roman Empire and the ascent of Rome's brand of religion. The younglings are aware of this, but for the most part they're just kids having adventures.

Anyway, here's a bit about them, written the other night to get me into the right frame of mind for the younglings. Forgive the parts where the story lines pop in. A lot of this will probably show up in their books down the road a piece.

Ideas and suggestions are always ALWAYS welcome!

Diann comes first of the kin cousins to Dunnottar from one of the northern tribes of the Celts of Europe, the Alamanni. Her parents bring her to train as a healer and for the protection Dunnottar offers. Diann is dedicated to her education, which helps with her transition time and her homesickness.

She is only seven when she comes – by the time Merri and Dothann get there (shortly before the time frame of SONG) she is nine. Even so, she is old enough at seven to be well aware of the conflicts that rage in the now-defunct Western Roman Empire. Her people, including her parents, are warriors whose ancestors had held out against the Roman Empire and now hold out against the advance of yet another roman threat, what will come to be known as the Holy Roman Empire. Diann knows these things – she is only seven but has already been schooled by her parents, who are well capable, for all of her short life.

At any rate, the choice to bring her to Dunnottar has not been an easy one. But Sass is there (who has studied with Ullin of Iona, the best of the best), her mother is related, and Dunnottar is one of the very few places of peace in the known world at the time. When warfare creeps closer and closer to their home, her parents make the hard call to foster Diann on Dunnottar.

For the most part Diann is quiet and studious, focusing her intellect on learning the healing arts from first her mother and now from Sass. She isn’t one to instigate trouble and has a level head on her young shoulders. That level head and her calm assurance land her in a leadership role as the younglings of Dunnottar begin to accumulate.

Brann, at four years, is the only Dunnottar youngling when Diann gets there. Her plight brings out the compassionate streak in Brann; she responds to his sincere sympathy and the two of them become friends. Brann, although three years her junior, has a competitive streak as wide as the compassionate one and badly wants to catch up with Diann academically. It will be a long time before he accomplishes that goal, but he never gives up the quest. Diann of course can’t help but know about Brann’s goal. She doesn’t encourage his competitive streak, but neither does she discourage it. She just keeps to her own path; Brann follows his own.

When Corrbed shows up about a year later, come from the Andorra high hills (another kin cousin whose story is not unlike Diann’s) it is the older cousin of the three, Diann, to whom the youngling boys look for leadership in many areas.

Corrbed is a year younger than Diann, two years older than Brann – seven when he arrives and eight when Merri and Dothann show up to complete the main core of the Younglings of Dunnottar. Like Diann, his parents bring him and the parting is difficult.

But Corrbed doesn’t want sympathy. He wants an education so that he can return to his own people and teach.  It’s getting to the point where if a person in Europe wants any kind of education at all s/he must submit to the Holy Roman Empire. It’s not called that yet, of course, but that’s what it is to become known as. ‘Same Rome, different weapons.’ That isn’t the kind of education Corrbed and his parents have in mind for him, so it is to Dunnottar he comes to prepare for going on to Iona for further training.

Corrbed is all about concentrating on book learning, is highly intellectual, and has a vocabulary that even the Iona-trained adults of Dunnottar respect. A sturdy strong boy, Corrbed’s physical strength isn’t as important to him as his studies. Caileen pegs him when she thinks, ‘you must find your balance’ in regard to him.

Rua comes not long after Corrbed gets to Dunnottar. Her story is tragic but that part of it will not be the focus of her ‘youngling book’ – because these introductory books are written for children and I’m not going to subject our modern children to the equivalent of the original Grimm.

Here’s a bit of Rua’s story:

Rua’s young mother is beyond desperation as she rides like a madwoman through the moonless night to Dunnottar. She has brought Rua from Gaul aboard the White Raven, a Geat ship from Sweden which has been long familiar to her own people and to Stonehaven as well. It now waits in Stonehaven's harbour for her return. Rua is a still bundle in her mother’s arms, wrapped in ancient plaid which Mamm will recognize. A man called Bard who has no other name waited at the landing dock with a fast horse, the one who lathers up as she flies across the countryside between Stonehaven and Dunnottar.

Rua understands more than she lets on of the fear and despair which drive her mother on this night to ride with such disregard for her mount. Because she understands, Rua ties herself up into a small knot and lies still and quiet – although she yearns to scream in rage and fear. She will not add to her mother’s already overwhelming burden by carrying on about things that cannot be changed or averted. And so Rua shuts herself up inside of herself, neither moving nor making so much as a whimper as her mother’s helpless, hopeless tears fall onto her. They burn and Rua wonders to herself rather casually if they will leave scars. She cannot bear the pain of her mother’s heart in addition to that which overflows her own.

As they approach Dunnottar’s little connection to the mainland, the galloping horse is slowed to a lope, then a trot, and finally to a walk.

Desperate though the need for haste may be, Rua’s mother takes these few moments to hold her daughter close to her heart, and to murmur swiftly and steadily the words of love, of hope, of faith, of healing, of peace, of the spiral of life, and of choice … once again, one final time, into the ears of Rua who comes out of her little curl to wrap her slender arms around the neck of her mother, to allow just this one time the tears to fall into the wind-tangled hair, to bury her face into the shoulder of her mother and to cling there like a burr. The shoulders of mother and daughter heave in grief and the mare is careful to step carefully as she continues to make her way onto Dunnottar.

On this night Mamm alone lies awake, waiting for she knows not what.

At last come the sure but quiet hooves of the mare who carries mother and daughter.

Mamm comes from out of her front door, and Catan is at her side.

Quickly indeed does the mother relinquish her small bundle, lest she snatch it back even more quickly.

And so it is into Mamm’s arms that little Rua is given and the sobbing story of tragedy goes into her ears alone. A brief Search of the mother’s broken eyes tells her more and she pales at what she sees there, tightening her grip on the small tight bundle that is Rua.

This young mother knows full well that, once the White Raven drops her off again on the shores of Gaul, her time will soon be at an end. She will not make it back to her home, which is even now lying in smoking ruins of ash with her husband dead in the doorway.

Bleak desolation is for the moment at the front of those bright blue eyes, but behind it … the sure knowledge and the driving determination that this young woman will do what she has to do when she needs to do it.

No, she will not remain on Dunnottar in safety with her daughter, though the very heart of her yearns for nothing more than to do so. She has a task to do even though she knows that the doing of it will mean her death. She has a Call to Sound in Gaul and Sound it she will. From the shore of Gaul as soon as she is landed, she will Sound the Call and raise her People, and she will die before reaching her home.

This she knows.

And still she so chooses.

To protect her daughter, to keep at least Dunnottar safe in all of the world, this young mother must do what she is destined to do.

And one day Mamm will tell to Rua the full of the Story.

So much passes in the look between Mamm and Rua’s mother.

Then the horse wheels and hooves thunder as the wind comes up to flutter the edges of the plaid which Rua is wrapped in.

Mamm reaches down to rest a hand on Catan’s big head and turns to go inside.

When she comes into the light of her small fire and lamp, the green eyes of Mamm of Dunnottar spill tears down her face, dropping to join those already on Rua’s fire-red hair.

Yes.

Mamm of Dunnottar knows this plaid.

So that’s a bit of the back story of Rua. The rest of it will come in due time, in one or another of the books. Of these things, and others, our younglings have no need to know, not for quite some time.

Knowing this back story and keeping it in mind helps to determine the writing of Rua’s attitude and actions.

Rua is an orphan. She is something of an empath, more aware than the others, and so she knows that her parents are dead. She knows that her home lies in ashes. And so yeah, she grieves deeply for the first while she is on Dunnottar. She’s only four, remember, when she comes. She has gone deep within herself and there she stays, curled up in silence.

Diann’s intuitive side responds to Rua’s situation although Diann doesn’t know exactly what that situation is. She instinctively knows that Rua needs someone (Diann) to just be there. Consistently … just to be there. And so Diann is there, where Rua can see her, at all times for the first while. She doesn’t coddle or cuddle or comfort or console … she is just there. Rua doesn’t turn to her for anything, but she knows that Diann is there for her. Always, no matter what.

Brann is the one who does the comforting and consoling. It is Brann who comes with flowers or seashells or pretty pebbles, and with hugs and compassion. It is with Brann, later on, that Rua cries her heart out in the Grove and it is his kindness and tenderness that allows those healing tears to finally erupt. He is the brother Rua will never have.

And it is the ever-practical Corrbed who at last literally carries Rua out of her mourning. As he is to later do with Dedan and Saba, Corrbed initiates physical movement as a part of the healing process, a big step for this mostly-intellectual boy.

In Rua’s case he comes to her in her despondency one day, tells her (doesn’t ask her) that they are going to the shore. Rua just keeps her head down and won’t even look at him, so he hoists her over his shoulder and carries her to the steep path that leads from the Grove down to the shore just south of Dunnottar. Rua has just gone limp in response so he slings her arms around his neck and holds onto her hands while she hangs like a limp empty sack on his back.

Now that steep path isn’t exactly a cake walk. Corrbed makes more of it than it already is in order to make Rua snap out of her lethargy. He pretends to slip and lets go of her hands to ‘catch’ himself and Rua’s hands automatically link themselves so she won’t fall. The ‘stumble’ brings her head up and she sees where she is.

Said ‘stumble’ also has Diann’s attention. Coming along behind the pair of them, she is a little surprised at Corrbed’s apparent clumsiness. He’s well able to take this path quickly and easily, even carrying a much heavier load than little Rua’s slight weight.

When he does it again, this time swinging himself back and way over to one side, Diann smiles. Now she knows what he’s up to.

This time Rua’s wiry little legs twine around Corrbed’s middle and she’s hanging on with both arms and legs.

With his burden now alert and secure, Corrbed goes on down the path in his usual quick but careful way.

Diann makes a little noise her own self as she follows, humming a little tune to let Rua know that she’s still right there.

When they reach the shore, Corrbed starts pointing things out to Rua, to get her reactions. He gestures to the little currachs that are tethered nearby, telling Rua what these little boats are for – fishing and just bobbing about on the sea near the shore. He cocks his head, listening to the birds.

And then Corrbed matter-of-factly tells Rua to get off of his back because he wants to collect pretty shells on this day.

He tucks the hem of his tunic up into his belt and proceeds to fill the resulting pouch with the prettiest of the shells he sees.

Rua, watching him, soon tucks her own tunic up into a pouch and starts her own search.

Diann quietly does the same, and soon here comes Brann down the path, scrambling on nimble feet to join them.

As the others call out to one another to come see this shell or look at this bit of driftwood, Rua is largely ignored.

There is a method to the madness of the younglings. They have conspired.

Rua, feeling a little left out, finally finds her voice and calls Brann to come look at a shell.

And the next thing you know the four of them have dumped all of their shells into one pile. They’re sorting them out by category to see how many of which kind they have laughing and chattering – including Rua.

When it’s time to go back up the path, it is Rua who takes off running to it and she doesn’t slow down once she reaches it.

The other three kin cousins look at each other and run to try to catch up with the flying little Rua.

Halfway up the path they hear her voice above them, telling them to hurry up.

Stopping to look, they see the red blaze of Rua’s hair in the sun as she stands hands on hips, obviously impatient with their slower pace. It’s only slower by comparison, mind you. They’re not exactly poking along. But Rua has outrun and out-climbed the lot of them as easily as she draws breath.

‘Uh-oh,’ sighs Brann.

‘No kidding,’ mutters Corrbed.

‘What have we done?’ asks Diann.

Those words will become quite very familiar to them as time goes on.

From the minute Rua comes out of her dark funk, the little girl is never still.

Even her sleep is restless and Mamm, whose home Rua now shares, has some broken sleep until Catan steps up to the plate.

Catan is an enormous Wild Cat of Chattan, Mamm’s friend for many and many a year.

It is only when Catan’s furry warm self is curled around Rua that the little red-head finally becomes still in her sleep.

Rua is fearless; she is also very quick, very smart, and very very fast on her feet. Even the adults can’t keep up with her once she starts running. Catan can, but she is the only one.

Once in a while, as she becomes more familiar with the area, Rua will suddenly just take off running. Over the top of Dunnottar she will speed, over the connecting path, through the cropping fields, past the grazings, and into the forest where she finally has to slow down a little.

When Catan suddenly springs up and starts running at full speed, Dunnottar knows that Rua has once more headed for the forest.

Once they realize that Catan has Rua in her care and keeping, nobody worries quite so much.

But those first few times, before Catan’s help, the whole of Dunnottar could be seen running en mass. There would be Mamm, Danann, Sidhelagh, Sass, Talorc, Caileen, Kalann, Aine, Diann, Corrbed, and Brann … all running and shouting, trying to get Rua to stop.

Of course it never worked.

Only when Catan had brought her shrieking and kicking in protest, carrying her by the back of her tunic, returning her  to Mamm’s little house (and a stern lecture), did Rua think to maybe mention to somebody that she was going for a run. After that, she was pretty good about telling someone. The fact that she looked around and picked the most busy and distracted person to tell (knowing they weren’t really hearing her quiet words, of course) meant there were lots of times that, although she had technically ‘let someone know’, nobody had a clue that she had taken off until Catan was suddenly streaking after her.

Ah yes.


Rua has brought her own style to Dunnottar, and an adventure to the younglings. Their comfortable routines have become somewhat less comfortable and routine.

‘It’s good for you,’ says Sass. ‘You were all getting a little boring there for a while.’

#
The upheavals of having Rua around are exponentially increased when Alianora of Dunnottar brings her family home from their long journeying.

Merri is eleven years and Dothann is seven when the family appears out of the blue one sunny day, Alianora and Drustann leading their two younglings from the port of Stonehaven toward Dunnottar.

Alia is the eldest of the daughters of Danann and Sidhelagh of Dunnottar, sister to Sass, Caileen, and Aine, and her arrival is met with great relief and strong welcoming hugs. She and Drustann have been traveling and training for longer than Merri’s eleven years through some of the most dangerous areas in the world. Sidhelagh holds her daughter tight tight and then turns to her grandlings and son-in-law with the same tight hugs. Danann’s arms come around her as she holds this little family and a calm peace slows racing hearts as the strength of this big man surrounds them all with his protection.

And then the sisters of Dunnottar welcome Alianora and Drustann with tears and laughter before even meeting Merri and Dothann.

Standing watching the reunion, the younglings are quieter than is their usual wont. From the reactions of the adults, they’ve figured out who these people are.

They even know where they will live.

There has been an empty house among the occupied ones on Dunnottar for a very long time. This is the home of Alianora and her family although they have not been home to live in it until now.

A cart pulls into view while everyone’s hugging and laughing and crying all over the place – the younglings are the only ones who notice its approach.

Eventually Merri and Dothann wriggle their way out of the arms of their relatives and stop to pull themselves together.

At last noticing the small group of younglings who stand staring at them, Merri squares her shoulders and walks her tall self over to them on the long legs of her.

‘I am Merri, daughter of Alianora and Drustann of Dunnottar,’ she says with a confident smile. ‘We have come home.’

Not knowing exactly what to say, the younglings remain silent, even Rua.

Now comes Dothann but he doesn’t stride with dignity.

Dothann runs.

‘I’m Dothann,’ he says with a big grin. ‘Who are you?’

Diann squares her own shoulders, an unconscious repeating of Merri’s action.

‘I am Diann of Dunnottar and of the Alamanni of the North. Here is Corrbed of Dunnottar and of Andorra; here is Brann of Dunnottar; and here is Rua of Dunnottar and of Gaul. Welcome home!’

Dothann walks on up to Brann and says, ‘I’m seven years. How old are you?’

‘Six.’

Now during this time Brann has been growing like a weed. He is almost as tall as Corrbed who is two years his elder and not small for his age.

Dothann, on the other hand, is small for his age. He has to look up to see into Brann’s bright green eyes with his own very dark ones.

Sparkling, those dark eyes cannot hide the laughter in them.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘you might be taller but I’m still older!’

And Brann laughs. It is the laughter of Danann and comes from deep inside of him to ride the air around him. Without knowing why, everyone joins in the laughing and the whole kit and caboodle head for the roundhouse, the cart tagging along behind.

Merri and Diann walk together, stride matching stride although their heights are not the same.

Corrbed swings Rua up onto his shoulders and walks on the other side of Merri so that Rua’s head is at Merri’s height.

Brann and Dothann come trotting along behind, Dothann filling Brann’s ears with questions for which he doesn’t wait to hear answers. Brann grins and ups his pace in order to keep up with this energetic cousin. The two of them make a funny-looking pair with Brann’s sunny blond head up above Dothann’s dark one, but somehow nobody notices the differences between them, least of all the two themselves.

And so it is that our core of younglings comes to completion.

Merri is at this time eleven years, Diann nine, Corrbed eight, Dothann seven, Brann six, and Rua five.

The order in which they automatically align themselves will remain for the duration of their lives.

Merri is a natural born leader. Although her nature prefers the telling of Stories, the solitude of the Grove, and the exploration of ancient knowledge, her short life has already taught her that the freedom to indulge in her preferences comes not without a high price.

On the cusp of womanhood, Merri has been dealing with the need to present herself with authority to strangers for quite a while now. Traveling among people you don’t know isn’t an easy thing when you’re the one doing all the traveling into the homelands of others. Languages are different, customs are different, sometimes even food and clothing are different.

With Alianora and Drustann often busy with their learning and teaching and meetings and such, Merri has just as often been left on her own among younglings she has never before met. With Dothann seeming to be a magnet for mischief, Merri has had her hands full. She has acquired by close contact some of the authority of her parents, and the ability and will to wield it.

The part of her which prefers quiet times of Storying in peaceful Groves has had little space in which to grow.

Ah but she is home now, home on Dunnottar!

Here there are no puzzling customs to try to figure out; here she is no outsider but on her own turf; here are no strange younglings among whom she must be careful; here a mistake brings not danger, a wrong move brings not possible attack, a misunderstanding brings not reprisals.

Here she can do as she pleases; here she can be the one who is at home, not the outsider; here she need not put on a mask of authority for is it not here on Dunnottar that the authority belongs to her by birthright? Here her authority is not a mask.

And Merri realizes something else. Of the younglings here, she is both the eldest and the biggest.

Yes.

Here there are no older or bigger ones to intimidate her. She can afford to be benevolent and kind to these younger and smaller ones who will look up to her.

Walking comfortably along between Corrbed and Diann, Merri smiles.

As they cross the neck of the connecting pathway, Merri’s eye is caught by the sight of the Grove and her heart gives a little tug. ‘There are branches to climb among,’ it says, ‘There are Stories waiting among the sunlight and shadows.’

‘Ah the Grove,’ Merri says to Diann. ‘I will go there when I have time. It will wait for me, will it not?’

‘Maybe,’ answers Diann. ‘I’ve found that sometimes the Grove will not wait.’

‘Well, it’s not going anywhere, is it? It will wait for me. Because it is mine own Grove and this mine own Dunnottar. I have come home.’

Diann and Corrbed give each other looks out of the corners of their eyes as Merri stops to gaze at the Grove.

She’ll find out,’ the looks seem to say. ‘Her Grove? She will find out who belongs to whom when it comes to the Grove.’

Rua just laughs aloud and doesn’t bother explaining what she’s finding so funny.

Meanwhile, Alianora and Drustann are filling their eyes with the beauty of this their home.

By birthright it is their privilege and their responsibility to one day hold in their fists the reins of Dunnottar.

However, they have long been gone from here and know well that the birthright of Alianora is not yet theirs to claim. Even when the time comes, hopefully far down the road, the inheritance is not automatic; they must have earned their authority. And they don’t care about any of that; they’re just glad to be home, to see the little square house with its little chimney waiting for them. The closer they get, the faster they walk until they are almost running when they get to the door.

Danann and Sidhelagh are right behind them and it is Danann who opens the door with a bit of a flourish.

Inside they walk, just glancing around for the time being.

Back outside they walk and Alianora takes the arm of Mamm.

‘We have a place to go first,’ she says, and Mamm nods her head.

‘That we do.’

Mamm’s grass-green eyes shimmer a little with emotion as she firms her back and begins a slow walk in the direction of the Grove.

Danann and Sidhelagh walk together behind her, with Alianora and Drustann side by side behind them.

Sass takes her place next in the little parade, and Caileen and Talorc come together behind her.

Aine and Kalann skip themselves into their place in the line-up, leaving the younglings behind.

Now the younglings are all looking at the adults and at one another.

‘We go by age,’ says Brann finally. ‘Merri, you lead.’

And so the younglings add their own assortment of selves to the parade that makes its way to the Grove.

When they enter the cool of the shade, they find that the big folk have left them space in the circle they have begun to form.

Filing themselves into place, Diann and Corrbed breathe silent sighs of relief. The circle places Rua right between Mamm and Brann, as safe a place as any for the notional little girl. Mamm might be able to stop her from getting it into her head that she wants to climb up and jump from branch to branch in the oaks above everyone’s head.

But on this day Rua is perfectly well behaved.

She kneels and closes her eyes in thanksgiving right along with everyone else, and even reaches for the hand of Mamm at her side to give it a bit of a squeeze.

Mamm takes the hint and reaches for the hand of Danann, and the hand-hold makes its way around the whole of the circle.

This family is happy to be all together and that’s a fact.

Pretty soon Mamm hops to her feet like she’s nowhere near a hundred and eleven years old and the whole of them troop back to the roundhouse, laughing and chattering.

The cart is still standing in front of the house of Alianora and Drustann, although the horse has been cared for and loosed with the Dunnottar horses.

‘Well Drustann,’ says Talorc, ‘do you want to eat first or unload first?’

‘Eat. We’ll need the energy.’

And so into the roundhouse they go for supper.

It’s not a fancy supper but to Alianora and Drustann, and to Merri and Dothann, it is the best supper they have ever had.

The unloading is soon done. There are many hands to help, which speeds things up considerably.

Merri and Dothann go inside to get their personal things put away in their own tiny rooms within the little house.

Diann, Corrbed, Brann, and Rua join hands and head themselves back to the Grove.

Rua is very quiet and her steps lag, making Brann take notice. He gives Corrbed’s hand a tug and nods his head sideways toward Rua.

There is understanding in the eyes of both Diann and Corrbed while Brann’s own fill with tears.

Exciting as this homecoming is, it also brings memories of the arrivals of each of the kin cousins on Dunnottar.

Kneeling, Corrbed gathers little Rua into his arms and carries her beside Brann while Diann walks on his other side.

Not a one of them says a single word for the entire time that they sit in the Grove, Rua on Corrbed’s lap. Diann and Brann sit close alongside, shoulders warm against those of
Corrbed.

Finally a peace comes stealing over them and they seem to feel warm arms coming around their little group.

Rua sighs and relaxes in Corrbed’s arms, her little hands seeking and finding those of Diann and Brann at her sides.

In the softest voice they have ever heard from her, Rua says, ‘It’s okay, isn’t it? It’s okay now. We’re all home.’

From near the roundhouse Talorc and Caileen have watched their little band of students heading for the Grove on this evening. Golden copper eyes meet dark ones; both sets are filled with concern and love. They too are remembering the coming to Dunnottar of Diann, of Corrbed, of little Rua.

While the other Dunnottar adults have loved and cared for these four younglings, it has been Caileen and Talorc who have been their primary teachers. They have spent more time with the group as a whole, watching and noticing as the individuals have found their way to becoming a cohesive unit. They know Diann, Corrbed, Brann, and Rua as nobody else does, not even the younglings themselves.

And so they watch silently, Talorc and Caileen, their little youngling group of four.

Hand meets hand and together the couple stands, watching and waiting.

By the time the younglings come back out of the Grove, the dew has already begun to coat the grass to catch the new moonlight.

Of course the younglings can’t help but notice that their bare feet are getting wet.

Diann gives them a grin and steps out into the dewy grass, one foot at a time. She leaves footprints behind her.

Corrbed puts his foot into the first footprint and carefully does he take his steps, putting each foot exactly into the prints that Diann is leaving in the dew-coated grass.

Brann follows in Corrbed’s footsteps, arms out for balance.

And here comes Rua, stretching her little legs to make her own steps match up just so. Her coordination being superb, she doesn’t have as much trouble as a person would think.

Of course it helps that Diann well knows the length of the legs of all of the younglings. Her own steps have been adjusted to allow for the differences.

And so they come, through the dewed grass of Dunnottar, the younglings balancing their steps to fit the path they lay out for themselves as they go.

‘It looks like only one person has walked there,’ says Caileen with a smile.

Talorc smiles too.

‘Indeed. They have found their balance I think. They are going to be fine.’

When it comes to that, the entire thing is about balancing the strengths of this core group of younglings so as to forge a team that will have all of the bases covered.

Each and all of them will be challenged to not only make the most of their individual strengths but to actively focus on developing areas that come less naturally to them.

Diann has to become more athletic and assertive, Corrbed needs to recognize the value of teamwork, Brann has to come out of his thoughts … Rua will have to learn a little caution, Dothann to listen to the counsel of others, Merri to realize that leadership doesn’t consist of bossing everyone around.

These are our six Younglings of Dunnottar, the core and foundation for the books that belong to them. More will come, as babies are born and little Dedan and Saba are adopted into the family ... but these six are the ones who will share the main adventures in the Youngling books.