I'm getting there! 20 Weeks

I now have my ticket to Scotland, it goes from Syracuse to Scotland (one of the layovers is in Iceland. I hope in September the volcanoes won't be up to anything). I also paid a deposit for student housing at the university!

Scotland, here I come!

Two shakes of a lambs tail * 21 weeks

This afternoon after church, Heather, Katie and I went and visited our friend Amy who has a large, beautiful sheep farm. She has mostly Finn sheep, many of which had had lambs recently. Two of her ewes had quintuples. These were beautiful, dainty little lambs, many of which had patches of white, brown and black wool. They frolicked as only lambs can, running sideways and their tails, indeed, shaking swiftly in two (or was it three or four?) little shakes.

Amy's friend was there with daughter and grandchildren, and Amy gave the children a spinning demonstration. The house was quiet and tidy, the afternoon sun shining through the windows, and there seemed something timeless about the spinning wheel turning, and the wool twisting into yarn. Though sheep are a controversial animal in Scottish history, the dying and spinning of wool seemed something my ancestors would have done. Certainly they knew how to spin and weave their own cloth, their clothes, plaids, blankets, etc. And while ruminating over these things, I was reminded of a story my Gaelic teacher Donald told me, how when he was a lad they had a bottle baby named Bella who had a fondness for oat cakes. She lived twenty years and had, I think he said, thirty-eight lambs. An admirable ewe, to be sure!

Here's a picture of our own two Finn sheep (one black, one white. The third large white one is half Finn half baby-doll)

Lost and Found: 22 weeks

Back in February I wrote that I was reading Dorothy Wordsworth's RECOLLECTIONS OF A TOUR MADE IN SCOTLAND (a beautiful copy with photographs that my mother loaned me). Well, right after writing that post, I lost the book! It wasn't in any of the regular and familiar piles of books we have about the place, and I was quite flummoxed. Just the other day, however, I discovered it, residing peacefully among Heather's library of spinning and weaving books. It is not certain how it got there.

So, in any case, I am just now launching into the charming RECOLLECTIONS of Dorothy. She certainly has an excellent way of describing things. Here are some examples:

"It might have seemed a valley which nature had kept to herself for pensive thoughts and tender feelings."
or
"...it was indeed a wild and singular spot - to use a woman's illustration, like a collection of patchwork, made of pieces as they might have chanced to have been cut by the mantua-maker..."

She also mentions dress, both of the Scottish people they see, and herself (she wears a Spencer Jacket and a grey cloak on a particularly cold morning.)Wonderful.

Almost midnight! * 24 Weeks

I just realized that I only had a few more minutes to squeeze a post into this week before the clock strikes twelve! And so, here I am! What Scottish insights do I have for this week?

Well, I don't have much. It's been a busy and somewhat trying week. I won't elaborate at the moment (just to sound mysterious) but at times of trial can one not think of the legendary tale of Robert the Bruce and the spider? When he wanted to give up, hiding in a cave, after suffering altercations with the English, he observed a spider trying to spin its web in the difficult surroundings of the cave. This determined spider failed time and again, but persisted. Finally it succeeded. This gave Robert the courage to go on. He raised an army and fought against the English, and this time was successful. This is a legend, and therefore may never have happened. I like to think that it did happen. And in any case, it is a heartening story for anyone, and confirms the old adage: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again!

Musings on St. Patrick's Day: 25 weeks

This past week, as we all know, was St. Patrick's Day. Although it is an Irish holiday, it has been an enormous part of my (and my siblings) life. Ever since I can remember we have celebrated St. Patrick's Day.

Every year the leprechauns visited our house to wreak havoc: making a mess of the house and leaving us notes and presents. We would cap off the evening by watching the ever wonderful Disney Classic DARBY O'GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE. I grew up with a healthy respect for banshees, I can tell you.

This year, a few days before St. Patrick's Day, I discovered a book of Heather's called CELTIC CHRISTIANITY, which I thought was rather appropriate to read at this time of the year, as it talks about such notables as St. Patrick, and St. Columba. There were some very interesting stories in this small volume. In a poem attributed to Columba, a phrase "caught my eye" so-to-speak:

"That I might search the books all,
That would be good for my soul;
At times kneeling to beloved Heaven;
At times psalm singing;
At times contemplating the King of Heaven,
Holy the Chief..."

This put me in mind of two things, the first from the Doctrine & Covenants, which (more than once) urges us to "...seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom, seek learning even by study and also by faith..." (D&C 88 and 109)
And also a line from the Proclaimers song 'Sunshine on Leith': "While the Chief puts sunshine on Leith I'll thank him for his work..."

The Blood is Strong: Part Two (26 weeks)

I'm not sure that I was planning a second part to my earlier post of this title, but an email that Dylan wrote to me has stayed with me so strongly that I felt I should share it.

Dylan is(as you will see) a very moving writer. I hadn't known, 'til now, how deeply he felt these same things. As he is my nephew(more like a brother, really) it makes me very happy to hear these feelings expressed so beautifully and seriously. Hoping he does not mind my quoting him, he writes:

"Something in my soul yearns for the memories of the early growing church, at a time after apostasy, but still so close to the original truth. Something before the 'Catholic' church, but after the Apostasy. My guess is that perhaps our ancestors started accepting Christ around this time.
I feel this excitement and yearning, and I use it to fuel my desire to do the work of the Lord. Yet part of me is still Pagan, deep in me, wanting to participate in the old traditions and ways of our wayward ancestors. It envelopes my bloodstream, like the salt which is in the sea, and the mist in the air of the Celtic lands. Older than the Romans, older than the Greeks, being off to ourselves with our Pagan gods even ages before the Birth of the Christ, come to save us all. We waited in our green lands with our unseen gods, and came unto Christ based upon what little we had of Him, but through this all, we liked our old ways, instilled in our blood.
That blood still runs through our veins, but now we have the fullness of the Christ, and we still yearn for the old ways. I try to turn this yearning towards learning more of the truth, our ancestors didn't have all the truth. They must have found the end of those lacking truths, and filled it with what they already knew."

"She likes to shimmy with me and her mother does too." Jack Buchanan and 27 weeks.

Firstly, I have resolved henceforth to stop apologizing for missing a week here and there on my blog. I have been fairly successful in keeping up, and therefore believe that missing an odd week is natural, understandable, and forgivable. I hope you agree with me.

Secondly, I thought it was high time to mention a charming Scot, Jack Buchanan (though, ironically enough he was known for his image as an impeccable Englishman - gasp!). He was a big star in the 1920's. What put me in mind of Jack Buchanan was a 1920's musical Heather and I watched recently. It was a silly, delightful romp (French, actually, but I feel bold enough to mention it given the "Auld Alliance" and all that!) and it made me miss the old days when I had Twenties fever, and tried to live and dress as though that era had never passed.

Jack Buchanan got his big break in 1921, in the stage production A to Z, in which he sang the Ivor Novello song "And Her Mother Came Too" (Jeremy Northam does a charming performance of this in GOSFORD PARK, in which he plays Ivor Novello). I first heard the dulcet tones of Mr. Buchanan when my sister Morag brought back the "Pennies From Heaven" soundtrack from England, when I was just thirteen years old. On that he sings a comic song called "Sweet So-and-So". I wasn't hooked, however, until three years later, when I got a CD for Christmas of 1920's tunes, on which he sings "Who?" with Binnie Hale. I was enchanted, transfixed by the song. I didn't stop 'til I had a whole CD of just Jack Buchanan, with other gems such as "Dapper Dan" and "Weep No More, My Baby". He is best known in American circles, in his role in BAND WAGON(1953), but I like to think of him as he was in the 1920's and '30's singing songs worthy of Bertie Wooster, and exchanging delightful dialogue with Elsie Randolph, such as:
Jack: What are you doing here?
Elsie: I'm waiting for Bill.
Jack: Bill?!
Elsie: I rather think I'm just a tiny bit in love with him.
Jack: Don't be silly, you hardly know him.
Elsie: Darling, you don't have to know a millionaire to be in love with one.
Jack: Oh, I see, little wise bird. It's the money.
Elsie: No, my lamb, it's the weather!