miscellany and fic snippet

It's my Nameday today, which isn't something I grew up caring about, but Dude's family are Baltic and it's a Thing for them. They're like a mini birthday-- it's the day on the saint's calendar corresponding to the saint you're named for, right? So. Anyway, it's handy for people whose birthdays are ill-timed (like Dude, on New Year's Eve)-- and I've been meaning for years to hold a party on my own nameday, because what better time to have a party than today? Nobody's up to anything this time of year, and it's cold so you might as well party, right??
But I have never had a house suitable for hosting parties, and nothing else has ever worked out, so.

So no Nameday party for me. But I think that ice cream joint finally opened up after being lazy useless nothing lumps for the entire blizzard, in my hours of need, so in the afternoon I'm going to find out, and maybe finally fulfill my terrible ongoing ice cream craving. (Last night I was having heartburn before bed and had to eat something but there was nothing in the house. Dude clearly felt similarly, and seemed delighted to eat a bunch of tortilla chips, of all the heathen degeneracy; he has no regrets about us not having any ice cream in the house, and cannot be trusted to look out for my interests, if he can eat Tostitos Hint of Lime tortilla chips for dessert. Ugh!)

(I like Tostitos Hint Of Lime, I bought them myself. But not for dessert.)

At any rate.

I've wasted rather a bit of time indulging myself in writing a tiny bit of fic, sort of? for Uprooted, and I present to you probably the only worthwhile chunk of the whole piece, which is Sarkan writing a treatise on Do As I Say, Not As I Do, or Why You Shouldn't ( i guess cut for spoilers )

. At any rate, here's the snippet.

She was young enough to still be coltish and awkward; my tastes had, in the days when I still had them, always run toward self-possessed, mature women. I had never understood what glamor the idea of an innocent, teenaged mistress held for powerful men, and to this day I still rather darkly suspect that much of it is not any dewy bloom of youth-- genuinely, you tell me an immature child of sixteen, barely pubescent and not yet at her full growth, is somehow intrinsically more beautiful than that same woman would be at twenty-five, or thirty, in her prime, grown into all her features, secure in her faculties, with her tastes fully developed, discerning and competent? This is not an objective assessment by any criteria!-- so much as it is the knowledge that a very young woman won’t know any better than to be dazzled by whatever mediocre wit an older man can muster.

I may or may not ever publish the rest of it, I clearly just needed to work that out. Also note with my ages, above, this is a story set in a kind of pseudo-medieval High Fantasy kind of setting, so not only is menarche a bit later, so is old age a little earlier, so.

ok i have to do some work so I can justify taking that lunch break to finally fucking eat ice cream

don't worry shitpost february I'll do you justice but here's my contribution until then

Scottish deities series

via http://bit.ly/2D0vnUN

theoldmanofstorr:

Part Two: Brighde

‘Là Fhèill Brìghde boidheach, Cunntar spreidh air mointeach. Cuirear fitheach chon na nide, ’S cuirear rithis rocais.’

‘On the Feast Day of beautiful Bride, The flocks are counted on the moor. The raven goes to prepare the nest, And again goes the rook.’ Carmina Gadelica p.173

Hello everyone! I have recently been doing a lot of research on Brighde, or Brigid, as I hope to start working with her in the near future. So I thought I would share some of the things that I’ve learned. This isn’t really in any particular theme or order, apologies, it’s fairly random! (I also haven’t talked about even most of the things that I could talk about so perhaps I will make a part 2 sometime)

Brigid or Brighde is a Celtic goddess, of Irish origin. She is spoken of in many early historic texts within Ireland as a member of the Tuatha dé Danann. She was known as a goddess of fire, the forge, poetry, healing, farming and livestock. In Scotland, Brighde is the mirror deity to an Cailleach, controlling the summer months and the arrival of spring. She is closely associated with Imbolc, it’s Gaelic name being La Fheill Brighde. With the advent of Christianity, Brighde got her name sake in St Brigid of Kildare, who is associated with healing and water.

There are many variations on the name, Brigid being the most common, Brighde is the name most commonly used in Scotland. And there are ither variations including Brigit, Bride, Bhride and Brede, Brig and Bric.

Brighde in Scotland

In Scotland, Brighde is most commonly seen as a weather deity, controlling the arrival of spring and having domain over the summer months. In this way, she is a mirror to An Cailleach, who controls the winter months. There are various stories as to how the two interacted, and what caused the change in seasons. One story tells that An Cailleach had a son called Angus, who fell in love with Brighde. The Caileach kidnapped Brighde, locking her away underground and causing the freezing winter. When Angus rescues Brighde on Imbolc, spring and life return to the land. Another story tells that when An Cailleach grows very old, she drinks from a loch which provides youth and she transforms into Brighde. Others see Brighde simply as the mirror Goddess to an Caileach, being youthful, warm and gentle, where an Caileach is hag-like, freezing and wild. 

Brigids mantle, or a brat Brighde

A piece of folklore associated with Brighde, is that a small piece of cloth would be left out on the eve of Imbolc in order to be blessed by Brighde. This would imbue the cloth with healing and protective properties throughout the year, and it is said that if the same cloth is used, it will grow stronger with each year that it is left out. Traditionally, this cloth would be of white cotton of silk - and was used to protect women in childbirth and new born babies from the Fair Folk.

Brighde’s crosses, or Brigid’s crosses

The Christian story for the origins of Brighde’s crosses is that St Brigid was trying to show a follower a cross and had only reeds to make one with. Although the origins of the crosses could be much older than this, as the shape has parallels with pre Christian symbolism. A new Brigid’s cross would be made at each Imbolc and kept, so that people amass a collection of crosses. They are said to be protective talismans, in addition to bringing fertility and luck.

Brigid of the flame:

In the medieval era at Kildare, in Ireland, nuns tended a perpetual flame for St Brigid until the 16th century. This practise was recently restarted. This is widely believed to be a continuation of a pre-Christian practice of women tending a flame in honour of the Celtic deity.

The following are taken from research as well as my own personal gnoses

Symbols associated with Brighde:

CowsPigsSheep and lambsMilk and dairy productsThe oystercatcher (being called Gillebride in Scots Gaelic)Dandelion (in Scots Gaelic beàrnan Brighde)SnowdropsCrocusesWhite, violet, pastel yellow and greenWaterSnakes (in Scotland)EggsReedsWheat and breadBeer

Brighde’s domains:

Spring and summerHealing wellsFireSmithing and craftPoetryFarming and livestockWhistlingGriefThe home and hearthChildbirthMedicineBrewing

Sources: Daimler, M. 2016. Brigid: meeting the Celtic goddess of poetry, forge and healing well. Brigid: goddess and saint. Carmina Gadelica. image: A la Recherche du Temps Perdu by Charles-Amable Lenoir. 

See also: my post on Imbolc, my post on An Cailleach
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