Seren

Given the weather at the moment - gales, torrential rain, slee, hail, flooding - it was a nice coincidence that I finally spotted a copy of a book I've been after for ages, which I was hoping would have some good stuff about the Cailleach. It was a little more than I'd usually spend on a book so Mr Seren said he'd get it me for Christmas - not that we're doing presents for each other, but anyway...

Donald MacKenzie refers to the book a lot in his Scottish Folk-Lore and Folk Life and he seemed to take a lot of his information from this source, so I had to have it. My efforts in getting my hands on it were frustrated by the fact that I couldn't get it from the library, so hunting down my own copy was the only way to go. It arrived yesterday and I got into it with gusto, and so far I'm really enjoying it - lots of good stuff, and she gives a version of the Cailleach's battle with Spring, but without Bride or Angus in it like MacKenzie has, who really does seem to be the only source for that.

So anyway, I thought it would be good to copy it down for anyone interested. And maybe it would please her so we she'll calm down and we can get some sunshine for once, eh?

( Excerpt from K. W. Grant, Myth, Tradition and Story from Western Argyll. )

My dear husband (for I must not call him my pet troll, oh no...) has finally fixed my website, which got kinda broken (just a wee bit, though) after I a) attempted to make the font size bigger for the articles across the site because I don't like how small it is when I try to read anything, and then managed to break the header (somehow) in the process, and b) put too many articles up so the nice blue box around the sidebar was torn painfully apart...I spent a good few months feeling sorry for that sidebar.

( Pictures and a find on the Cailleach I wanted to share... )

Peshwari naan. Mmmmmmmm.

We went to the fireworks show this evening, and had a yummy curry in Gourock beforehand. We were a little late making it to the display but it was worth it - it was very good and Tom probably broke the world record for how many "Wow!"s that could be uttered in the half hour or so that it lasted, whilst Rosie watched with interest but little enthusiasm after being rudely awoken from a late nap for dinner. Life in general is pretty offensive for Rosie after she gets woken up prematurely. She perked up a little after receiving a very tasteful souvenir:


She's very keen on butterflies at the moment, even ones that could probably induce a photo-sensitive epilieptic fit, apparently. Tom chose a red flashing wand, which he then employed with gusto in his attempts at conjouring more fireworks. He wasn't entirely unsuccessful.

Thankfully they both have off switches.

You may already have heard about this, but it would probably be remiss of me not to mention it anyway...


Quoth the Beeb:

"An Iron Age treasure hoard unearthed by a metal-detecting amateur has been unveiled.

The four gold Iron Age neck ornaments, or torcs, date from between the 1st and 3rd Century BC and are said to be worth an estimated £1m."

There's a short video with the article but they don't get any good close-ups of the pieces - there's a good photo gallery of them here, though. Well worth a look.


ETA: Also - Prehistoric burial ground found on Skye.

Overall I got pretty much everything I was hoping to do done (do done? Is that even proper English? I'm really don't think it is...). Everything I did get round to doing went well, barring my ogam reading which just didn't seem to...spark? It wasn't a disaster but I just wasn't feeling it - but more on that later. I'm fairly sure I know why.

( Yes, it's as long as a long thing on a long day... )

It's cutting it fine but I have most things I'll need for all the things I've been planning over the next few days for Samhainn - I'm sticking to my usual format of spreading everything over three days (well, nights, mostly), so I'll be starting tomorrow and finishing up on Sunday. Last year I ended up realising each day I celebrated had a kind of theme - starting with the ancestors as the main focus for the first day, the spirits for the second day, and the gods for the third day. It worked well so I'm planning on doing the same again.

( More blether... )

It's a stormy day today - there's a gale blowing the trees to painful looking angles and torrential rain is hammering down in sheets with each gust of wind. The sun's trying to peek out through the clouds for most of the day, which made the sky look almost bruised, and I'm watching at the window, all safe and warm. I like a good storm. If I had waterproof shoes I might go down to the beach to watch the waves crashing and feel the wind and rain whip around me, but I draw the line at soggy feet - I'm a lightweight, I know. But I do find storms very calming and cleansing. Grumble, on the other hand, hasn't left the house for over a day and is being overly affectionate in the hopes that if he's cute enough, I won't make him go out. 

There's not much been happening this week - Mum's incommunicado at the moment (never a good sign, but at least I have nothing to bitch about right now), we've had a falling out with Rupert Murdoch and his company no longer receive our custom (they cut off our satellite TV service after they failed to send us a new viewing card and then lied to us about what would happen...blah blah blah...boo hiss), and my sister-in-law has announced her wedding will be in March next year.

My sister-in-law, it seems, has decided to go all out for what will be the Best Day Of Her Life. The Uglies, as Mr Seren affectionately calls his parents, have agreed to pay for the wedding and so now for the next five months or so there will be a constant battle between my mother- and sister-in-law over how big, expensive and ridiculously over the top things are going to be. Frilly meringue wedding dresses may get harmed in the process...

( More blether... )

There are many fun ways I can think of spending a Friday evening, and spending it in a social club with a bunch of horrendously drunk strangers really isn't one of them. Sadly there wasn't much we could do to wriggle out of it - after forgetting my mother-in-law's birthday and ten announcing that we probably won't be around for Christmas (we're thinking of going to stay with mum, for once, but I'm not sure about that just now), to my mother-in-law's horror, Mr Seren felt he had to give his mum something. A small victory.

( This is how it all went... )

On the plus side, the cabbagey stench has been successfully dealt with (for now) with some overly scented 'carpet freshener' - apparently it now smells of 'citrus blossom'. I wouldn't say this is a good thing, really, but it's definitely an improvement...For now.

On the minus side, Tom decided to freak mummy and daddy the fuck out on Monday evening by deciding to have an ear infection, completely out of the blue. Because of his behaviour - he seemed delirious, but didn't have a temperature - we were worried that he was having a reaction to the booster shots he'd had the week before. It turned out that it was just the pain from the infection, with added tonsilitis, but it all ended up with a trip to the out-of-hours doctor for a once over because NHS 24 were worried it might be meningitis...To be fair, NHS 24 are always worried it's meningitis when flu-like symptoms present, but they were very good and for once Tom actually had something that needed treating. He's never had an ear infection before so I completely didn't make the connection when he started saying his mouth hurt in his more lucid phases, and it only came on after he went to bed (these things are worse when you lie down, apparently, so it makes sense). It came on quick, but the antibiotics are doing their job now and he's fine.

On the I'm-really-fucking-tired-of-all-this-now front, mum phoned this morning to try and hit me up for more money. I'd already vowed that I wouldn't give her any more money because aside from the fact that I don't have any to spare, I don't want to enable her behaviour anymore. I stuck to my guns and let her know from the start, when she declared, "I'm in a spot of trouble...:. as her opening sentence. Still and all, I'm not sure whether I just feel bad, because as a daughter it's easy for her to guilt me into feel bad about anything, or whether I feel bad because I just want to walk away now. I want to run and hide and deny her existence, pretend that everything's OK.

I mean, really, what should I believe? Is this her being overwhelmed and unable to deal with a situation, or is this an addict doing what they do best? I've heard those stories before. And really I know I'll never know the answer unless mum wants to be straight with me.

This time, it's not credit cards that need to be paid off, or petrol that needs to be put in the car so she can drive herself to AA meetings...this time it's "I've been ripped off by a fake loan company and need money to cover the deposit I gave them."

Yes - if my mother is to be believed - she gave a loan shark a deposit in order to get a loan, who then skipped off with the deposit, never to be seen again. Which most sane and normal people would realise is a dumbass thing to do. But it's easy to believe that mum's desperate enough to ignore common sense like that...Or that she's savvy enough to know the kind of thing that I'd know is stupid because several scams have been heavily publicised in the press recently, while knowing she's kinda desperate...

And yet, has she gone to the police? Has she sorted out her benefits? Has she seen someone to help her with her financial problems?

Nooooooo. But she's going to get taken to court because of a tax bill she can't pay, she says. Her mobile phone's been cut off, not to mention everything else she can't keep up with. Allegedly. Who the fuck knows?

One of the perils of being married to someone who inhabits their own space-time-continuum is that they forget things - trivial things, important things, it doesn't matter which. It's also apparently impossible for them to find anything even when it's right where they left it five minutes ago. But Mr Seren's latest ooops I forgot was his own mother's birthday - which only goes to show the apple doesn't fall far from the tree really, because my mother-in-law's acquaintance with such trivialities as time itself is holistic at best.

Technically he didn't forget - apparently technically I forgot because every year my mother-in-law drops a big hint at me as a reminder just before the big day and I'm therefore tasked with the job of reminding Mr Seren so everyone can pretend he's a good son who doesn't forgot birthdays. But I decided not to go to The Uglies, as my husband lovingly calls his parents, last weekend because I decided to be antisocial and sit on my arse and do bugger all for the afternoon instead. So Mr Seren remained convinced that her birthday wasn't until the 22nd, as he does every year, and wished his best friend happy birthday instead (whose birthday actually is on the 22nd). Seeing as he does this most years, Tam didn't bother to point out he'd got the date wrong again, so Mr Seren never realised. But even so, when my mother-in-law phoned yesterday to definitely not mention the fact that we forgot, Mr Seren had the good grace to feel a bit guilty.

My dear husband only remembers my own birthday by virtue of the fact that it ties in with Star Wars, ish (May The 24th Be With You). Then again, he also inhabits a universe where telling me that I look like I've lost a lot of weight recently - no really, "you look really thin in the face, y'know, like an AIDS patient..." I meant that as a compliment, he added hastily.

He's so romantic.

It's time like this that I remind him it's a miracle that anyone agreed to marry him - sober - let alone decide it's a good idea to procreate together. It probably says a lot about my own family and upbringing that I find this vaguely normal, doesn't it?

We were supposed to go over to The Uglies yesterday afternoon to make amends, but Tom had a birthday party to go to, Rosie has a cold and I'm (inevitably) getting one too so I'm in the early stages of feeling like shite. So we decided that after all the excitement - the party was at the local softplay warehouse - it wouldn't be too much fun to inflict two knackered and germ-ridden children on their grandparents. They didn't disagree.

In other news, I cleaned the carpet in the front room yesterday and now it smells like rotten cabbage. It stinks and although Mr Seren still doesn't notice it (apparently he has no sense of smell either), he's agreed that we should see if we scrape enough money together to replace it with something more practical (in other words, not a beige carpet that needs constant cleaning). The alternative is me bitching constantly about it, so he has some incentive, at least. But in lieu of miracle carpets appearing this afternoon, I shall get on with another book review before I forget...


( Before Scotland - Alistair Moffat )

Mum's been silent all week - never a good sign - so I bit the bullet and phoned on Saturday night. She doesn't seem to be doing too well - as we talked, for a good hour and a half, she ran the whole gamut of mood swings from high to low. And to compound it all, she's now been told that she won't be able to get a remortgage until she's cleared her debts and kept debt free for a good six months. Right now her credit rating is just too far in the shit.

The good news is that she can get help to cover her mortgage and get a disability allowance while she's off work. The bad news is, she's already spent at least three months procrastinating about filling in all the paper work and wouldn't be in such a bad way if she'd got it sorted in the first place. She was offered help to do this, but says at the time she felt like she could conquer the world so turned the offer down. It's all fiiiiine, she thought. I urged her to go and see a debt counsellor to get some help, as dynigirl suggested (she's a clever one, is that dyni) and mum agreed it was a good idea and then started making excuses. I'm not holding my breath.

But onto happier things, yes? Gàidhlig went well last Tuesday - a shedload of new people turned up so we spent a long time going over the first lesson to try and bring everybody up to speed before going onto lesson two, so it all ended up a bit rushed in the end. I'm finding my jaw is aching by the end of the two hours because trying to pronounce some of the words is making me form unfamiliar shapes, and now I'm getting the idea of how the sentences are structured I can't help but think of Yoda speaking Gàidhlig. Tha beagan Gàidhlig agam - A little Gàidhlig I have. I got a lift home with one of my fellow classmates - who gave me her number last week - and she was very funny. I told her about my record-breaking failure with Latin language - even when a dictionary was allowed during the exam so I obviously didn't even manage to get the right words - which she found hilarious. "No offence, but what a fuckin' fanny thing to do!" she said, as she laughed. I can't disagree, to be fair.

Anyway. It's been a long while since I've done some reviews, so I've got a little bit of catching up to do - but not too much. I've had a bit of a drought on reading recently, but I'm getting in the mood again - I took the kids into Glasgow on Friday so Tom could spend his birthday money from my dad (after recovering from the shock that he remembered) and seeing as I've been so good recently with the book buying these past few months, I decided I'd allow myself a treat if I could find the book I've been looking for. I did, so yay - I finally found Alistair Moffat's Before Scotland. I'm nearly half way through and loving it about as much as pilarkristine and wisewomanjudith did, I think. Lots of interesting stuff in there so far, and it's making for a good distraction. I also got Venceslas Kruta's The Celts: History and Civilisation because it was going cheap - seriously cheap - but so far I'm more impressed by the glossy photos than the actual articles. For a fiver, I can't complain...The photography is stunning. But onto my review dump:



( Scots Gaelic: An Introduction to the Basics - George McLennan )

( Highland Heritage - Barbara Fairweather )



( Two Miranda Green books... )

So tonight was my first foray into what will probably be a long hard slog towards becoming a cunning linguist *arf* Bad jokes honour the memory of my grandad, honest...

After my initial enquiries about the Gàidhlig lessons I got an email back from the tutor (let's call him Mr B, for the sake of ease) saying there was plenty of space on the course and I should just turn up for the first lesson with a pad and pen handy if I felt so inclined, everyone would be made welcome. Great news. The not so great news is that my mother-in-law is unlikely to be able to babysit for me, should that be necessary in future, because she also has her evening classes on Tuesdays and she'll be having to miss some of those anyway to go to her curling matches and the odd archaeology society shindig when they happen to clash with her schedule. There's no room to fit a few babysitting sessions in as well, here and there, and she was genuinely distraught about not being able to help. Having my eldest niece (and inevitably her boyfriend, for they would wither and die if the were separated by such distance even for mere hours...but that's OK, he's good with the kids) babysit instead is a possibility, although getting her to and from here might be difficult. I'll solve that problem when I get to it.

Anyway, it was my first lesson tonight - it went well, I think. The class was a good mix of people about my age, some older, some teenagers, and an adorable lassie who must be about seven or eight or so, who was attending with her dad. There were about twelve of us in total, and a few of my fellow classmates are from the same village as me so I've already swapped numbers with one of them - her son went to nursery with Tom last year so I vaguely recognised her and she offered to give me a lift if I need one in future. It will make getting home a bit easier, anyway.

Most of us were new to the class, but a few were repeating it from last year and everyone I spoke to seemed nice and a little nervous. The lessons are fairly relaxed, though, and it's a standard format of listening to the tutor, parrotting it back and then trying it out with a partner in the class (in front of everyone else - not something I relish, but it has to happen I suppose). The focus on conversation rather than learning tables and tables of declensions and irregular verbs (for the moment, at least) and so on is definitely a plus, I think, although the class is maybe a little on the large side to make the whole pairing everyone off to demonstrate our awesome conversational skills be particularly engaging at the moment. Mr B seems to be very encouraging and patient, though, but not the most savvy when it comes to technology - he pointed us to the website where all the class notes and audio has been put up and commented that people as far away as Sweden and Germany had been using it. "I don't know how they found it, though, I didn't put it on Google!" he said. Awwww.

So yeah - I'm glad I went, and I really hope I can keep up with it in the longterm. It's bloody knackering, talking to actual people, though. Tha mi sgith (I am tired). *Yawns*

Sadly, Bruce Campbell is in no way involved with this post, other than the title...

( Tom turns four, and a brief update on the Grumble Puss... )

Well thanks to some good advice and sage words of wisdom, I've decided that I'll go ahead and sign up for the class. I've emailed the organiser to see if there's still spaces left and got an automated out of office reply saying he'll be back in the office on July 30th...which seems a little odd, so if I don't hear anything today, I'll call the office tomorrow. It's a school holiday today so I presume he's set his out of office and forgot to change the dates...

( Vikings! Yarr! )

September is upon us and this means that the Gàidhlig classes in Greenock are soon to start. They're scheduled for Tuesdays this year, starting on the 15th, and I'm a little conflicted and kinda gutted about that. Right now I'm not sure if I'm just imagining things, but I could've sworn they were on Thursdays last year, which was about near perfect as I could have hoped for. But Tuesdays are Not Good, because if Mr Seren has to go dahn sahf for meetings, then it's usually at the beginning of the week rather than the end. He's not had to go for a few weeks now, which is good, but sometimes he has to go every week or every other week, which means that potentially I'll be missing out on a lot of lessons.
( Read more... )

If you're not mad keen on spiders...best not click to see under the cut.

( Prepare to be amazed...and stuff )

Tom and Mr Seren have returned from their mini adventure in the wilds of The Trossachs, thoroughly sodden and smelling of campfire. They've arrived home sans tent, though, which was left behind after one got blown away. We're assured it will be returned to us in its original condition, and it'd better be because Tom's quite keen on going camping again next weekend. I have to come too though. But he's not so fussed about Rosie...

Weather (and tent) permitting, we might just do that. And so long as the in-laws are around to look after Eddie - he's too yappy around things that move to take with us, unfortunately. Given the weather we've been having recently, it's not looking too good, though. Torrential rain and strong winds. It would be good, though. Perhaps, being utterly selfish, I could persuade Mr Seren to take us up to the Folklore Museum.

Tom discovered the delights of archery, clubbing random strangers with a mace (not a real one, of course), and throwing gigantic rocks (those were real, though, as were the bow and arrow). And made friends with the Clan dog, Wee Wallace. Who was quite wee...He also had a bodhran lesson or two, and sagely informed Irish Alan (as opposed to Big Alan) that he was playing his trombone all wrong. (ETA: I should point out that Irish Alan was playing the bagpipes at the time). Thusly, I shall illustrate:
( Pictures and then more on mum... )

In spite of assurances otherwise, Mr Seren still hasn't been paid this month...Again. I'd say it's getting more than a little bit frustrating, but it's beyond that now, as far as I'm concerned. He's been paid for the past few months at least, but was assured that come this month everything would be brought up to date and everything would be back on an even keel. He's still owed several months' worth of expenses, much of which is on his credit card, so while we're not utterly screwed, financially, we're racking up needless interest that we shouldn't have to pay. At this point I've no idea whether the company will cover this or not...I remain circumspect on that point, so far.

And to top it all off I've had to help bail my mother out yet again, so she can clear her debts, so she can be considered for a remortgage to help her get on top of the mess she's got herself into in the past few months or so. I don't begrudge it for the most part. She's my mum, of course I'll help. But at the back of my mind I've heard these excuses before and I feel like I have to prepare for the worst. So aside from the fact that the timing sucks, I'm considering the fact that she might be bypassing the whole getting back on track thing and going straight to the boozing thing. I feel bad for thinking the worst, but at the same time I feel naive for wanting to believe the best of it because of past experiences. What can you do, eh?

But it's not all bad. I'm officially an auntie all over again - my sister had a baby boy on Saturday: Sam Luca George, they've called him. He came into the world at a whopping 10lbs 13oz so I don't envy her, but she's feeling very pleased with herself for managing it without any drugs whatsoever this time (aside from entonox - wonderful stuff, once you get the hang of it...). I'm looking forward to seeing my new nephew at some point, but right now I really don't know when we'll be able to get dahn sahf.

It gets much better, though, because I had a wonderful weekend in the good company of candleshoe, mudrat and dynigirl. So as far as I'm concerned, I was in not just good company, but I got to spend several days wantonly and selfishly without the kids - not being a mummy for a while. Good food and drink may have been involved. It's a hard life, playing hostess and tour guide...

On Thursday we did Largs for lunch (drink, sweeties...); on Friday we took a drive around the Highlands; on Saturday we went to the Rosslyn Chapel and then Cairnpapple Hill; on Sunday we took the dogs to the beach for a good run around...Words cannot express how good it was to have good times in good company, being just Seren and not Mummy Seren. I'd hoped to dump the kids on the in-laws for a goodly portion of it, to at least give Mr Seren the chance to get some work done and get some time to himself, too, but for reasons known only to herself my mother-in-law decided to make other plans (in spite of me giving her notice months in advance), and then obviously felt guilty about it so decided to change her mind, and then her best friend died...It was all a bit of a mess on that front, but so long as someone was looking after Tom and Rosie while I was galavatning, it was all good as far as I was concerned. OK, not good. But not horrendous either. The kids seemed to provide a good distraction in the face of tragedy, at least. My father-in-law took it the worst, apparently. It wasn't unexpected, but he was on holiday and after a few bevvies he got all maudlin and philosophical about his own mortality, much to his wife's annoyance. She was the one grieving.

Anyway, off being wanton and selfish with good friends, we went to some wonderful places. I originally intended to point candleshoe , as the designated driver for their visit, in the direction of Glencoe, because the scenery is simply stunning - I've never seen anything like Rannoch Moor, f'rinstance. But roadworks and snap decisions dictated otherwise, so we ended up heading into Argyll instead, through inevitable rain and cloud. We ended up having lunch at Inverary, a very picturesque town on the shores of Loch Fyne, but it really was humping it down. The camera doesn't like the damp so I didn't get much to show for it - I was worried about it breaking like it threatened to when we were in Kirkcudbright a few weeks back - but overall I got quite a few shots which I've added to the set I took from my birthday trip to Argyll.

( More blether and pics... )

Perhaps taking the idea more literally than necessary for the season...
( Lùnasdal... )

That whole karmic vortex of doom I mentioned? I just had to invoke it in writing, didn't I? Although this time, while bad shit tends to happen to those around me, I think I came off worse than today's victim. But at least no one ended up in hospital this time.
( Tom's mini adventure... )