Words, words, words.

My first published book of poetry

During the time between writing the last blog and now, I have written, no, started composing many others in my head, none of which ever came to fruition. For on each occasion the desire for a slice of cake, a laced coffee or even a small tot of cherry liqueur slipped into my mind and as you probably know a well fed mind that has no hunger within loses its’ desire to create. 

The next day and thereafter the process was repeated; not though today. 
For last night into my mind came nine words - a metaphor - which is like a long lost solitary piece of a jigsaw puzzle and it is still echoing in the recesses of my being. As yet I have neither inspiration nor inclination to do anything with it. That line will be entered in a page of a notebook which has other lost lines and like the others it will grow neither fat nor slim, until one of them drops like magic into a rightful place. Hopefully I shall get started soon and start scribbling away.

At this time of the year, during mid winter we listen to the radio far more than at other times of the year (no TV by choice). 
During my late teenage years I realised that listening to the radio was far better than watching the attention seeking one eyed monster in the corner of the lounge, because at the very least I could paint or read a book at the same time.
So when I reached the age of maturity my decision was not to have a TV. 

Writing about that non-sensical box has revived memories of the letters that I would receive annually from the TV licensing authorities and of the great delight I had when making my polite replies. All of that altered [the politeness - that is] when they changed their previous format and started their letter with a threat to prosecute me, to which I replied with extreme vehemence.
I told them how dumb they were in not noting the contents of my previous sixteen letters and of how they needed to keep a register of non-conformers like myself which would save both of us the cost of postage etc.

Since becoming a pensioner however, the powers that be have granted me a free TV licence for life and I no longer get any letters. That too has its drawbacks as I can no longer vent my spleen annually and rid my self of my accumulated angst !

Season of Goodwill

Obscenity is not just pornography or even provocative photo's of the human body. There are other types of obscenity. One of which is the portrayal of photo's on blogs and words describing their pre- christmas fare gluttony !I have just visited one blog that said that on the following morning that the author was so stuffed from the meal of the previous day that all they had was a slice of toast for breakfast. Well whoopee for you I thought!

Then I thought again about the five million people in the UK who are suffering from food and fuel poverty, also of the half million and more in Ireland who are in a similar situation. Well who cares - who actually cares ?

One might name a charity, almost any charity. 

Ah'yes! But be careful that they are not just in the Business of Re-distribution. For example the other day a national Irish newspaper published a list of forty-one well known charities of which there was only one in which the CEO took no salary. Of the other CEO's who did their salaries ranged from €80,000 to over €100,000 per annum.

That one single charity whose CEO receives nothing is Br. Kevin Crowley of the Irish Capuchins see  http://www.churchandhalston.irishcapuchins.com/Day_Centre.html

We stopped sending Seasonal Greeting cards a couple of years ago, instead we make a donation to an organisation that cares for people who are in great need, the numbers of which are growing daily. This year it will be to the Capuchins.

Whether you have a religion or a belief or not or are simply a pagan like myself. My wish for you is that you are warm, free from hunger and surrounded with Love.

One of My Pleasures!

We took ourselves off to Dublin the other day. For Mrs H it was a chance to window shop ( yes, I have her trained!) Actually she was accompanying me to the famous pipe manufacturer's Peterson's of Dublin, whose retail outlet is in Nassau Street at the bottom of Grafton Street. We had fun getting there for I insisted on staying on the bus a lot longer than what we should have. No matter the walk was good for us and by way of recompense. I out of the goodness of my heart pointed out the Dail (The Irish parliament building) to her.

Peterson's have a fine array of pipes on display however, many of them were well beyond price range and in any case their seconds accommodate my wallet far better and give a good service.

The last time that I visited them was about five years ago and the shop assistant recommended to me pipe which he felt that I would appreciate. He was absolutely correct!

For here we were, for me to buy pipe another of similar design.

The new pipe with the trade name of Killarney.
It is a gem to hold as well as to smoke plus it
has the unique characteristic of sitting down.

My previous pipe which sits well in the hand,
as well as sitting nicely on the desk without
spilling any ash.

The stem of each of the above pipes can be used
with a replaceable filter - I change the filter every two days.

A Driskule
This little fellow is a conical wired cage that
sits in the bottom of the pipe bowl and prevents wastage
of tobacco as well as keeping the bottom dry.

My favourite tobacco of which I smoke
about 50 grammes a week.

For many years now the bent pipe
has been my favourite.

I purchased this old timer in Germany
in 1958 and only very rarely do I use it.

'The Meerschum'

This takes pride of place in my tobacco cabinet.
The head is that of a bear.

Funeral of Olivia Melian Robertson - co founder F.O.I.

Oliva Melian Robertson

13th April 1917 - 14th November 2013

St Fiaacs Church

C of I

Clonegal

Co. Wexford

Olivia's coffin carried from Huntington Castle by six female relatives

The mourners follow the hearse on foot

Led by a Piper the funeral procession walks through Clonegal

In the blue robe is the hierophant priest Paudrig O'Rahilly and to his far left
in the grey robe high priestess Patricia Griffin who are now the elders.

The Vicar of St. Fiaac's Church The Reverend Michael Stevenson at the top of the steps.

Post funeral gathering in Osbornes for songs and refreshments.
From the left on the bodhran is Lydia Lyte, standing is Marian Smiles, with the guitar
is Julie Felix and singing with arm outstretched is Chello.

All coloured photographs are the copyright of Seán Gilmartin © 2013

Into the Heart of ISIS

Partly re posted from : http://www.thefellowshipofisis.blogspot.ie

Official announcement on behalf of the Fellowship of Isis from Cressida Pryor, Olivia's niece, Caroline Wise and Linda Iles of FOI Central website. Sad news for the Fellowship and the wider Goddess community in the world, 96 years of age Olivia died 14th November on Thursday night at 9.15pm. It was peaceful and she had her family with her. Her family ask that their privacy is respected at this time. A really great and original figure has left us, Many blessings.

Lady Olivia

For Olivia's biography please visit : http://www.fellowshipofisis.com/oliviarobertson.html

I have composed a poem or dedication to Olivia please view http://wordsofaramblingmind.blogspot.ie

An Old Singer !

This seventy-six year old lady is still working well. In fact after having being given a good dousing of three in one oil recently on her moving parts. Her owner declared that she is better than ever.

Her Singer number is EB 326703 from which I was able to ascertain, that her birth was at

Kilbowie, Clydebank, Scotland in June 1937.

Mrs H bought her for £20 in London about thirty plus years ago. Inside the 'green box is a

Singer counterfoil (possibly the original) however, unfortunately the figures are ineligible.

I personally view this machine as a piece of art work and greatly admire the gold decorations that it has, them and the decorative cover plates which I think are absolutely splendid.

The Singer Sewing Machine model 28k

Shewing cover plate at business

end of machine.

An inverted pear shaped cover

plate.

I obtained details of year and place of manufacture from http://www.sewshop.com/date-your-machine.html and from them they have this to say :-

"Singer Sewing Machines were first manufactured in 1851. The manufacture dating provided here on our Web site is reproduced from the original Company register number log books. Because we have not been able to locate the log books, serial numbers for the years 1851 to 1870 are not available at this time. 

Serial numbers on Singer sewing machines manufactured prior to 1900 are numbers only. After 1900, the machine serial numbers have a single or two-letter prefix."

31st October HALLOWE'EN

Today the 31st October is known as Hallowe'en which is a religious festival that is celebrated differently by christians, wicca-folk and lots of young people.

For the christians Hallowe'en is properly known as All Hallows Day or All Saints Eve and tomorrow, 1st November, is All Saints Day. The wicca folk interpret it differently calling it a Witches' Sabbat and their activities are many and varied. 
For young people it is a night of bonfires, fireworks, dressing up in a variety of costumes and calling to neighbours in the hope of receiving a gift of sweets or money.

Among the things it is not the ancient festival of SAMHAIN,nor is it the end of summer or even the pagan new year. These misconceptions were brought about mainly by ignorance and the adjustment of the calendars.

So here is web site that shows the various dates for pagan rituals and explains how they are calculated.
http://www.archaeoastronomy.com/2013.html

The calendar in English and Irish

January......Eanáir

February.....Feabhra

March........Márta

Aibreán......April

May..........Bealtaine

June.........Meitheamh

July.........Iúil

August.......Lúnasa

September....Meán Fómhair

October......Deireadh Fómhair

November.....Samhain

December.....Nollaig 

As can be seen above three of the four names of the cross quarter days are also months of the year and Imbolc is missing.  
Also, the current month names in Irish are a mixture of Irish and obviously Latin-derivations; there weren’t specific month names in Old Irish, more seasonal divisions.

TRAGEDY - UK

I have just been reading of the tragedy that is facing people on our neighbouring island and of the cash strapped families that will be forced to turn to the British Red Cross for help this winter for the first time in nearly 70 years, as millions face crippling cuts to their household budgets.

The rises in basic food prices and soaring utility bills have helped push more than **Five Million People** in the UK into deep poverty.

The British Red Cross said it was about to launch a campaign in supermarket foyers asking shoppers to donate food to be distributed to the most needy through the charity FareShare; This in a country where for a variety of reasons ploughs back into the land 40% of what it grows!

Yet I recall that their Prime Minister Mister C was proposing to virtually go to war in Syria until his idea was voted down.

Strange is it not that they have enough funds to wage an army and yet not enough to cater for the welfare of their people ?

A PARK - for All Ages

The other day, finding ourselves with time on our hands, we visited the newly opened park at Dún na Sí - The Heritage Centre and Amenity Park, Moate, Co. Westmeath.

It is a place where the fabulous sculptures and art pieces by our friend, community artist, Patsy Preston in conjunction with local Third Year students and their teacher James Hatton, have uniquely decorated a wonderful local amenity.

The sculptor Ann Meldon Hugh designed the impressive bronze and stainless steel statue of Grainne Óg which stands on a mound near the entrance and welcomes visitors. 

Despite some light rain we spent hours wandering the paths, discovering art and learning about turloughs and wildlife.

When summer arrives next year we hope to visit again when the 

fairy thorns will be covered in blossom and the bare earth will be green and lush.

Patsy Preston

Grainne Óg

The Triskle - a place for any age!

The Centre Piece of the Triskle

 At the edge of the turlough is an ornate observation screen

from which the bird life can be seen through viewing ports

of various heights and sizes.

One of the side screens.

A Turlough: is a vanishing lake that fills up in Winter

and then disappears over a few days or weeks in the Springtime.

Over the Summer, there remains only a small permanent wetland

and the rest of the lakes basin is grassland. The name 'turlough' comes

from the Irish 'tur loch' meaning 'dry lake'

I could not resist the Heron!

The black pole is an exercise toy

for aged people.

These plaques were made by the third level students, depicting various legends and myths,

Every bench end had a completely different

design on them and they are very attractive. 

(Would make an interesting feature in my 

front garden!)

A butterfly has landed!

Only in the USA

© National Geographic

A 3,500-acre wind farm in in northern California may become the first renewable energy project in the US to be issued a permit to kill eagles under a proposal by the US Fish and Wildlife Service. The plan would allow the Shiloh IV Wind Project’s 50 wind turbines to kill up to five golden eagles over a five-year period in exchange for taking measures to protect large birds, including retrofitting power poles to avoid electrocutions. "The bottom line is a permit will help preserve eagles," said Scott Flaherty, the deputy assistant regional director of external affairs for the Fish and Wildlife Service. The report will now go through a 45-day public comment period.

Q: Sounds like double talk to me ?