Fuinseog Woodland Crafts

On behalf of Newpark Country House Killtoon Athlone County Roscommon, I attended the Irish Georgian Society Exhibition at Stokestown Park Co. Roscommon to see traditional building & conservation skills in Action Exhibition.

One of my favorite exhibits was the skills of Fuinseog Woodland Crafts, who use traditional Irish skills to produce individually hand - crafted products from Irish grown timbers, sourced from coppiced and managed woodlands throughout Ireland.

Nature is precious, but to see work lovingly produced using the same skills as ancient tradesmen offers a wonderful alternative to enhance our experience of the past and holds onto traditional Irish for future generations.

Fuinseog Woodland Crafts is the crafts of Niall Miller & Brenda McLoughlin you can contact them on fuinseogwc@hotmail.com to watch a short video that I took at the exhibition of their work go to youtube and search for Fuinseog Woodland Crafts at Heritage Exhibition

Here at Newpark Country House we are in the process of Rescuing an old house from the ravages of rebellion, bombs, salvage, and despair, together we have a new vision for the House and slowly we will achieve those aims, presently there is much to be donr. To see our vision & inspiration for Newpark click onto this link for our new website : http://newpark-house-athlone.webs.com/

The Tale of the Leprechaun

Thinking of my special little Ellie Mae in England who has her Mamma's love of books I send her this lovely little Irish Story of the Leprechaun

Grannie reached for the teapot and poured herself a cup of tea. As she sipped it, she said to the twins, “Did you ever hear of the Leprechauns? Little men they are, not half the bigness of the smallest baby you ever laid your two eyes on. Long beards they have, and little pointed caps on the heads of them.
“And it’s forever making the little brogues (shoes) they are, and you can hear the tap-tap of their hammers before you ever get sight of them at all. And the gold and silver and precious things they have hidden away would fill the world with treasures.
“But they have the sharpness of the new moon, that’s sharp at both ends, and no one can get their riches away from them at all. They do be saying that if you catch one in your two hands and never take your eyes off him, you can make him give up his money.
“But they’ve the tricks of the world to make you look the other way, the Leprechauns have. And then when you look back again, faith, they’re nowhere at all!”
“Did Mary O’Connor catch one?” asked Eileen.
“Did she now!” cried Grannie. “Listen to this. One day Mary O’Connor was sitting in her bit of garden, with her knitting in her hand, and she was watching some bees that were going to swarm.
“It was a fine day in June, and the bees were humming, and the birds were chirping and hopping, and the butterflies were flying about, and everything smelt as sweet and fresh as if it was the first day of the world.
“Well, all of a sudden, what did she hear among the bean-rows in the garden but a noise that went tick-tack, tick-tack, just for all the world as if a brogue-maker was putting on the heel of a pump!
“‘The Lord preserve us,’ says Mary O’Connor; ‘what in the world can that be?’
“So she laid down her knitting, and she went over to the beans. Now, never believe me, if she didn’t see sitting right before her a bit of an old man, with a cocked hat on his head and a dudeen (pipe) in his mouth, smoking away! He had on a drab-coloured coat with big brass buttons on it, and a pair of silver buckles on his shoes, and he working away as hard as ever he could, heeling a little pair of pumps!
“You may believe me or not, Larry and Eileen McQueen, but the minute she clapped her eyes on him, she knew him for a Leprechaun.
“And she says to him very bold, ‘God save you, honest man! That’s hard work you’re at this hot day!’ And she made a run at him and caught him in her two hands!
“‘And where is your purse of money?’ says she.
“‘Money!’ says he; ‘money is it! And where on top of earth would an old creature like myself get money?’ says he.
“‘Maybe not on top of earth at all, but in it,’ says she; and with that she gave him a bit of a squeeze. ‘Come, come,’ says she. ‘Don’t be turning your tricks upon an honest woman!’
“And then she, being at the time as good-looking a young woman as you’d find, put a wicked face on her, and pulled a knife from her pocket, and says she, ‘If you don’t give me your purse this instant minute, or show me a pot of gold, I’ll cut the nose off the face of you as soon as wink.’
“The little man’s eyes were popping out of his head with fright, and says he, ‘Come with me a couple of fields off, and I’ll show you where I keep my money!’
“So she went, still holding him fast in her hand, and keeping her two eyes fixed on him without so much as a wink, when, all of a sudden, what do you think?
“She heard a whiz and a buzz behind her, as if all the bees in the world were humming, and the little old man cries out, ‘There go your bees a-swarming and a-going off with themselves like blazes!’
“She turned her head for no more than a second of time, but when she looked back there was nothing at all in her hand.
“He slipped out of her fingers as if he were made of fog or smoke, and sorrow a bit of him did she ever see after.” “And she never got the gold at all,” sighed Eileen.
“Never so much as a ha’penny worth,” said Grannie Malone.
“I believe I’d rather get rich in America than try to catch Leprechauns for a living,” said Larry.
“And you never said a truer word,” said Grannie. “’Tis a poor living you’d get from the Leprechauns, I’m thinking, rich as they are.”
By this time the teapot was empty, and every crumb of the cakeen was gone, and as Larry had eaten two potatoes, just as Eileen thought he would, there was little left to clear away.
It was late in the afternoon. The room had grown darker, and Grannie Malone went to the little window and looked out.
“Now run along with yourselves home,” she said, “for the sun is nearly setting across the bog, and your Mother will be looking for you. Here, put this in your pocket for luck.” She gave Larry a little piece of coal. “The Good Little People will take care of good children if they have a bit o’ this with them,” she said; “and you, Eileen, be careful that you don’t step in a fairy ring on your way home, for you’ve a light foot on you like a leaf in the wind, and ‘The People’ will keep you dancing for dear knows how long, if once they get you.”
“We’ll keep right in the boreen (road), won’t we, Larry? Good-bye, Grannie,” said Eileen.
The Twins started home. Grannie Malone stood in her doorway, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking after them until a turn in the road hid them from sight. Then she went into her little cabin and shut the door.

Have a look at the Faery Folk of Ireland on our website for Newpark Country House to read about other interesting folk of the fae of Eire.

http://www.newpark-house-athlone.webs.com/

A Psalm of Life

As I mentioned earlier Mary took me to Taney Church summer fair, It was brill I love a bargain, rummaging around mountains of books In the tent I was in my own personal little heaven. Life can take what it wants from me, all I ask is please dont take my books. Books transcend time, and finding one that was written a century earler connects you with the past. This book had belonged to P. Bingham dated 1916 it was a wonderful book of poems written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who was born in Portland, Maine, North America in 1807.

I feel my hand was guided to this special book, and the poem within, and I feel I have to share his poiynant wonderful and uplifting words of poetry with you entitled 'The Psalm of Life'

Tell me not, in mournful numbers'

"Life is but an empty dream!"

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

and things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

and the grave is not its goal;

"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"

was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each tommorow

Find us further than today

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts,

though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead bury Past bury its dead!

Act - act in the living present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, in departing leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;-

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solem main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing shall take heart again.

Let us then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still persuing,

Learn to labour and to wait.

Hell Fire Club Dublin - Confusion or What??

David was telling me that he was going for a walk, and mentioned the Hell Fire Club, so being English and him a young man I assumed he was going to a disco or something, out of curiosity I decided to see if the Club was advertized on the internet as he told me he would take me up there one day. David told me an old tale of how they used to play poker up there in the 19th century, and one of the players dropped his card, and bending down to retrieve it, he realized that the player opposite him had the Devils Hoof ! Realizing he had been found out the player errupted in fury, and burst into flames flying through the ceiling, the whole place errupted and was burn't down. Naturally I assumed it had been rebuilt, so when I looked it up on the internet I was surprized to see it was a derelict building with references to Satan worship and the rest, David most definately did not strike me as that sort of person, he's too sensible! When he came home the next day I enquired about the club, and he laughed, and told me he had gone a walk up the mountains to the hellfire club, he said it has the best views of Dublin from up the mountain, and no he wasnt into satanic rituals or such nonsense! what a relief !

Newpark Country House, Kiltoon, Roscommon

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Biddy Early “ The Healer”, “The Wise Woman”, “The Witch”,"The Tulla Woman"

The name Witch comes from the Celtic word Wicca meaning wise one. Biddy Early was born on Faha Ridge to a poor irish farming couple John & Ellen Connors, she was baptized as Bridget Ellen Connors, but she became known by her mothers maiden name of Early, Biddy's mother Ellen taught her many herbal recipes and cures as she was also known as a wise woman and her gifts she passed onto Biddy

As a child Biddy spent most of her time alone and was said to talk to the faeries, she could not read or write,but this was common for the poor classes & country people of that period in time, coming from the country Biddy spoke Gaelic, she was also known to speak Shelta, the language of ancient mystics and Irish travellers, this is a secret language with no written code.

When Biddy was 16 years old, her mother died of malnutrition, leaving Biddy in charge of the household. Just six months after her mother's death, Biddy's father died of typhus and as biddy had no means to pay the rent she had to leave their home, homeless she wandered the county roads, working where she could along the way and experimenting with herbal cures. she had a period of living in a poor house, finally she met and married Pat Malley who was twice her age, but I suppose biddy felt the need to be looked after, and they had a son whom they called Paddy. They lived in a three room cottage in Feakle, and once settled Biddy began to earn a reputation for her cures, as local peasants couldn't afford to pay for a doctor they would turn to Biddy for help, she never requested money for her services, but allowed her clients to decide how to compensate her. Whiskey and poitin were common trade items in those days, so her house was frequently stocked with an abundance of alcohol and eventually became known as a place where people could also go to drink and play cards.

Biddy’s cures are the main reason she became well-known, but she was also an independent and stong willed woman, life had thrown hard circumstances at her, she had survived the poor house, the famine, and outlived four husbands, but she triumped against all odds and had the courage to stand up against priest and landlords.

The Catholic church did not approve of Biddy’s activities, but none the less she encouraged people to listen to the priests. In contrast, the priests openly disapproved of Biddy and discouraged people from visiting her. They mistrusted the herbal medicine folklore and mystism that surrounded her. Biddy acquired a bottle that became as famous as she was. She would frequently look into the bottle, which contained some sort of dark liquid, when considering possible cures for her visitors. She took the bottle everywhere, and it was even with her when she died.

In 1865 Biddy was accused of witchcraft by a local priest and was brought before a court in Ennis. The few who agreed to testify against her later backed out, and she was released due to lack of sufficient evidence. Although most of the peasant population supported her, Biddy died in poverty in April 1874, with her rosary round her kneck and her magic bottle in her hand, she was buried in Feakle Graveyard in County Clare, at her request her magic bottle was thrown into the lake, and at her funeral the local priest remarked:

"We thought we had a demon amongst us in poor Biddy Early, but we had a saint, and we did not know it".

Icons in Transformation

We had a fantastic afternoon at the garden fete at Taney Church, and I spotted this advert for an art exhibition by Ludmila Pawlowska to be held at Christ Church Cathederal in Dublin from the 11th June - 19th July 2009. I cant wait to see the exhibition I just love textured art, sculptures, byzantine and coptic art so once I have been to the exhibition I will upload some of the images so watch this space!!

An Angel visits St. Peter in Athlone church Ireland

I just adore this stunning vibrant window of St. Peter visited by an angel, in the church of St. Peter and Paul in Athlone,

What I find so amazing is the image of the angel, she looks more like a gothic fairytale image than an angel, the vibrancy of blues and lavender are really uplifting, the whole window is awesome.

All the windows in the church are decorated in the style of Harry Clarke, long after the death of Clarke himself, but magnificently paying homage to his incredibly rich colouring and stylisation.This particular window can be found in the north aisle the chapel of the naven, I salute the artist.This particular image reminds me of some of the work of another famous victorian artist known as Aubrey Beardsley, another of my favourite artists.

Morrigan Babd Catha the Battle Crow

I painted this picture during a very traumatic transission period of my life, painting helps me to recover from distress. I knew that the cycle of my life had come to an end in Egypt for my life marriage and writing about ancient Egypt, and so I threw myself into research on Celtic history as I will be working in a place in Ireland to help create a celtic & gaelic language retreat.

I created the painting was created for display in the 300 year old cellars in the basement of Newpark House that were originally the kitchens, they were converted into a Bar in the 198o's, onvce the bar is running again it will have a celtic theme and we will we will probably honour it with the name 'The Morrigan Cellar Bar'.

My inspiration for the pattern of the dress in the painting, I found it in the pattern of the Turoe Stone ( I love symbolism 3d Art and its texture) so I used the pattern for help with my dress and cloak, I have since discovered that the turoe stone represents a potent symbol of regeneration , and through regeneration we can attain genetic renewal

Instead of a fur collar on the cloak of the dress I decided to use Crows feathers, as in Native American indian signs I am a crow. This painting expresses the symbolism of the new me that will eventually emerge from this turmoil in my life, a woman standing alone again, but powerful once more.

The celtic armoured helmet was to protect my head from any further distress and depression, after I had started the painting I read a book on auras and I found out that if the head is surrounded my murky browns and mustard and swiggly lines (the celtic knots) this can suggest mental health problems - I have suffered from bi - polar which has certainly been a disruptive illness for me to cope with over the last tens years. My doctor told me not to be ashamed of this illness as he informed me that some of the most creative people in the world suffer from this illness, and from the depths of despair amazing poetry art and writing have materialized.

Although I have a strong sense of tradition and religeous belief that my own grandmother instilled in me as a child, I do I believe the celtic triple goddess has come to my rescue and guided me on this new path in my life. After I had started the painting I discovered that the Celts have a Goddess called Morrigan, who can shape shift into a crow and she becomes Babd Catha the battle crow and flies over the batllefields, I am amazed how I have been guided, I also chose the horned god from an image of the Goldstrum Caudren, and I have now found out that he also symbolizes wisdom vision and power - all the things I want to bring into my life, obviously the ancient celts are guiding me through the time lines to my new path in life.

How amazing is that!

Irish Graverobbers & Watchtowers

Mary decided to visit her family's grave today, and while her attention was focused tidying the grave and having a chat with the departed I was drawn to a round tower on higher ground, mary told me it was a watchtower to protect the graveyard from Grave robbers, who would sell the bodies for medical science, well our course i have heard of graverobbers in england but never been aware of watchtowers before, obviously this was a horrendous thought for the departeds family to submit to, wandering about I got some lovely photos of the tower and in a sheltered corner of the cememtry I came across some exposed bones, needless to say Ii left them where I found Them!

I came across film preview of 'I SELL THE DEAD' which tells the tale of 18th century justice that has finally caught up with grave robbers Arthur Blake and Willie Grimes. With the specter of the guillotine looming over him, young Blake confesses to a priest, Father Duffy, his fifteen years of adventure in the resurrection trade click on link to watch this really good irish tale Video URL: http://us.imdb.de/video/wab/vi3227516953/

Irish Philosophy - You only have two things to worry about

I have only been living in Ireland for three days when we went up into the mountains to a famous Irish Pub called the 'Jonny Fox,' This visit will definately remain lodged in my memory, the pub was decorated with crazy irish humour that reminded me of my old irish aunt, they had converted a bed into a table, aparently it was a wedding gift to Lady hollingsworth who was reported to have not left her bed for a week and a night after her marriage, she died a very happy woman at the age of 101.

The walls were full of interesting history and humour, from where I also learnt this Pearl of Irish wisdom - You only have two things to worry about................

There are only two things to worry about

Either you are well, or you are sick

If you are well
then you have nothing to worry about

If you are sick there are two things to worry about
either you will get well - or you will die

If you get well then there is nothing to worry about
If you die there are two things to worry about - either you will go to heaven or hell

If you go to heaven there is nothing to worry about

But if you go to hell you'll be so damn busy shaking hands with all your friends down there you wont have time to worry!