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Ah, welcome. Don't mind the puppies, they're not quite housetrained yet.
http://www.irishwolfhounds.org/cards.htm
There is a barrel of mead over by the wall, and mulled cider warming in a cauldron by the fire. Please be comfortable and help yourself.
I would like to take this opportunity and brag about my children. Some people know that I attempt to do live action recreation of the Fianna, which isn't as accurate as much as it's a lot of fun. This summer my children came on the "big campout."
This would be my Alex. She's wearing a liene made by me and an overdress/liene purchased from Renstore (I got very very tired of having to make new dresses every year. She grows waaaaay too fast) She's carrying the goodies she "stole" during Goblin trick-or-treat. I made her a couple of other dresses too but this one will always be my favorite. She got to cross log bridges and play in the haybales, and what's her favorite memory? "I got to walk around barefoot! All Week!"
This would be my Noah, sporting his first liene and brat. You can't see his little plaid trews, unfortunately. He's so handsome. He was dubbed "bucket baby" because I would bathe him outside in a big Rubbermaid tub. He thought it was so cool to look up and see stars while taking a bath. He also got to play in the creek quite a bit until I found out there were leeches in it.
Alex is reading, one of her favorite passtimes, while Noah helps the ladies of the camp take pictures of the fighting on the other side of the creek from our camp.
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I hope the good Mac-o-Lantern isn't offended, but I would like to keep the poem he posted in the Bardic College.
Tree Talking
The trees talk so slowly,
You must attend carefully
Or miss their meaning entirely.
A word may take a month
Or a sentence a year to utter.
A story may last a lifetime.
You cannot see their lips move
Or feel their breath,
For they have none
Nor do they have need of these.
They speak in tones of a bass drum,
Stroked with the tip of a feather.
Their tales are not exciting
And have no beginnings or endings.
Fast movement of living things
Escapes their notice.
Their’s are sagas and epics
Of historical proportion.
Sit quietly and free your mind
From all thought of action.
Lean back on rough bark
Close your eyes to the world.
If you would hear them,
You must listen with your soul.
I was the Secret Santa for Bryce Yupanqui. After receiving the wonderful gifts I've received I feel bad that I didn't surprise him with more.
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Sankira Qin was my very own soulmate. The Aedui outdid themselves again! I was top dog, as was MacMorna.
11 Articles
Alésia, Mar 14, 2005 - 17:15
first draft of the article for Gaul
Lugdunum, Mar 8, 2005 - 16:21
rough draft, early notes
Tartan, Jan 4, 2005 - 13:29
a little history on where it comes from and how old it really is. still in draft form
Knockfarrel, Jan 3, 2005 - 16:09
Site of a vitrified hillfort in a ring of Pictish forts, located near Cromarty Firth and Loch Ussie
Celtic Christmas Carols, Jan 3, 2005 - 10:09
these are the butchered versions, not the traditional ones. Copied from my holiday library
Kaimes Hill, Dec 16, 2004 - 16:15
Information on and map of the Kaimes Hill site, in the West Lothian area of present day Scotland
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General Summary
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