Have a Thoughtful Memorial Day everyone

Have a Thoughtful Memorial Day everyone

☾☼* ᵔᴥᵔ ᴥ•.¸¸.•´´¯) ¸.☆´¯) ƸӜƷ(¸☆´❤❤♪♫♪❤ƸӜƷ☼
✿¸.•*""*•.¸ ●★ . •✿'✿○ ° ★. *. . ¸. ° ¸.)¸.•*""*•.✿
❤✽¸•♥•*•⋆❥⋆❀ ✿ღڪےღڰۣ✿✽¸•♥•¸✽❤
ᵔᴥᵔ ᵔᴥ☾¸.•*¨ƸӜƷ ✿¸✿´~*

Hi, Dear Friends, We live in a world of duality and this duality appears to exist in the myths and legends.  Either humanity conceived it or is there also a dark side in the realm of the unseen?   

I do not intend to delve into the dark side but to go there only on occasion.  Are banshees truly a dark side spirit?  Judge for yourself in this next offering.  Thank you.

The Banshee, Celtic Death Messenger

Throughout history and across cultures there are stories and myths of beings that forewarn of human death. Just as the joy and desire to live is innate to most humans, so is the fear and dread of death. Seeing a ghost is not as alarming as the chilling knowledge that "as I am, so you shall be". Because mankind lives at the behest of the beautiful sometimes cruel powers of Nature, a prophecy of death returns a bit of order to those struggling to see a tapestry of cosmic or divine purpose.

In past centuries (and even today) humans look for signs of eccentricities of domestic time to portend the snipping of the thread of human life. Clocks chiming irregularly or stopping, roosters crowing at night, candles melting in winding sheets or bees swarming at doors or windows to accompany a soul in flight. Birds perching at windowsills or housetops such as owls, robins and ravens have often been seen as harbingers of gloomy news. In Scotland, the "bean-nighe" or washing woman is seen by travelers around pools or fjords washing the shrouds of those who are about to die, singing a dirge or crying. The bean-nighe will tell for whom she is keening and also the fate of those travelers who would dare to ask her. The bean-nigh is thought to be the ghost of a woman who died in childbirth. The feminine gender of this grieving spirit is a theme found again in the exclusively Irish form of the "bean-si", or banshee.

The banshee tradition occurs throughout Ireland and nearby islands. The gaelic terms used most frequently to describe the banshee are the "bean-si" (a female dweller of a sidhe, or fairy mound), the "bean chaointe" (a female keener, a term found in east Munster and Connaught) and the "badhb" (referring to a more dangerous, frightening bogey). Although "bean-si" implies an Otherworld or fairy being, the banshee is a solitary creature without male counterpart who never partakes in communal human or fairie social enterprise. Speculation also links the banshee with the mystical race Tuatha De'Dannan, from whence the fairy folk are descended. There is little folk evidence to support Christian explanations that the banshee is a devil who wails for the souls that are lost to her as they ascend to heaven, or that they are familial guardian angels or souls of unbaptized children or even the souls of women who committed the sin of pride in life.

The mourning of the deceased is not just the affair of surviving relatives in Ireland. In years past, the measure of a person's respect and stature in the community could be seen in the number of mourners at a funeral and the breadth of their grieving. Professional women keeners, often old women, were paid in drink to weep at the graveside of eminent figures in the community. The Church frowned upon the entanglement of these often alcoholic women and their funerary services, perhaps giving rise to another theory that banshees are the ghosts of professional keeners doomed to unrest as a result of their insincere grieving. Interestingly, this does touch on a basic component of the banshee legend: that banshees follow certain families. If banshees are the ghosts of deceased keeners, their accompaniment is probably due more to a sense of loyalty than a sense of guilt.

More likely the banshee should be thought of as the "spirit of the family", a spirit who attends to the family in a time of transition. The banshee is described as a wee woman with long white, blond or even auburn hair who appears in the vicinity of the birthplace of the soon to be deceased. When seen, she is wearing the clothes of a country woman, usually white, but sometimes grey, brown or red. The former hues represent the colors of mourning while red is associated with magic, fairies and the supernatural. In some accounts she is seen combing her hair as she laments. She is heard more often than seen, wailing as she approaches the abode in the late evening or early morning, sometimes perching on the windowsill two to three hours or even days before a death. As she moves off into the darkness witnesses describe a fluttering sound, such as the sound made by birds flying at night. Hence, the mistaken belief that banshees manifest as birds such as the crow. The inaccurate association with crows is probably due to confusion of the banshee with the primitive Celtic goddess Badb, the goddess of war who appeared frequently in the form of a crow.

Banshees also wail around natural forms such as trees, rivers, and stones. Wedge shaped rocks known as "banshee's chairs" are found in Waterford, Monaghan and Carlow. Although there have been reports of banshees accompanying Irish families who emigrated to the Americas, it appears the banshee more often grieves for an emigrant at the ancestral family seat in Ireland. Stories are told of the misfortune visited upon men who interfered with the banshee by taking her comb or challenging her. These tales point up the value of courteousness towards women, the avoidance of drink, violence and late hours.

There is historical precedence for the banshee's appearance as a female spirit. In Genesis, Eve delivers the apple to Adam. In the Christian myth, Mary delivers Christ unto the world, in ancient Greece women prophesied the message of the gods to mortals who sought their divine purpose at the Oracle of Delphi. Women "deliver" children into the world. As death is as natural as life, it is appropriate that the banshee, a feminine shade, provide the message which ushers a soul along on its journey.

The announcement of the banshee was heard by non-relatives and friends, not usually by close family members of the dying. With this warning, friends from far and near would travel to the failing individual knowing it was the last chance to say goodbye. Upon being told of the banshee's pronouncement, surviving family members could admit the finality of the situation and accept the support of the community that had gathered around them. The visitation of the banshee gave the tribe the opportunity to talk openly about the death with family members and thereby ease the mourning process. Although human death is inescapable, the foreknowledge of such an event does provide advantages, to the soon-to-be-deceased, the survivors and the community -- thereby honoring both the living and the dead.

By C. Austin

☾☼* ᵔᴥᵔ ᴥ•.¸¸.•´´¯) ¸.☆´¯) ƸӜƷ(¸☆´❤❤♪♫♪❤ƸӜƷ☼
✿¸.•*""*•.¸ ●★ . •✿'✿○ ° ★. *. . ¸. ° ¸.)¸.•*""*•.✿
❤✽¸•♥•*•⋆❥⋆❀ ✿ღڪےღڰۣ✿✽¸•♥•¸✽❤
ᵔᴥᵔ ᵔᴥ☾¸.•*¨ƸӜƷ ✿¸✿´~*

Elementals, Nature Spirits, Fairies, Ellyllon

Elementals, Nature Spirits, Fairies, Ellyllon

An elemental is a being first appearing in the alchemical works of Paracelsus. The basic concept of an elemental refers to the ancient idea of elements as building blocks of nature. An elemental is a creature (usually a spirit) that is attuned with or composed of one of the classical elements: air, water, earth and fire. The elements balance each other out through opposites. Water quenches fire, fire boils water, earth contains air, air erodes earth.

Elemental or nature spirits never knew life as we know it as they originated from another realm of existence. Today’s society finds it very difficult to believe in the typical Victorian fairy, but it has not always been that way.


In the Middle Ages, the learned defined it as a divinity or unknown force, which had a fascinating effect on the other divinities and on men and events. The French word fée has a similar origin and resulted in the English words fey and fairie which, as time went by, suffered spelling variations from fayerye, fayre, faerie, faery, and fairy. According to its etymology, it is a fantastic being pictured as a woman known to have magical powers. For the Saxons, the word faerie refers to the world of fairies as an entity, being a geographical location.

The world of fairies is a mixture of a mysterious enchantment and extreme caution should be exercised to penetrate into this world, as nothing is more irritating to fairies than several human beings curiously moving around their extraordinary dominions, like spoiled tourists. Location of these elementary beings has varied throughout time and cultures. For the Irish, sometimes it was found in the horizon; for others under their own feet; on other occasions, on hills, or in a magical island on the high seas or under the ocean.

Welsh Fairies

The Ellyllon are the pigmy elves who haunt the groves and valleys of Wales and correspond closely to the English elves. The English name was probably derived from the Welsh el, a spirit, yielding elf, an element. There is a whole brood of words of this class in the Welsh language, expressing every variety of flowing, gliding, spirituality, devilry, angelhood, and goblinism. Ellyllon (the plural of ellyll), is also doubtless allied with the Hebrew “elilim,” having with it an identity both of origin and meaning. [Pughe's 'Welsh Dictionary.' (Denbigh, 1866)] The poet Davydd ab Gwilym, in a humorous account of his troubles in a mist in the year 1340, says:

Yr ydoedd ym mhob gobant
Ellyllon mingeimion gant.

There was in every hollow
A hundred wrymouthed elves.

The hollows, or little dingles, are still the places where the peasant, belated on his homeward way from fair or market, looks for the ellyllon, but fails to find them.

Their food is specified in Welsh folk-lore as fairy butter and fairy victuals,ymenyn tylwyth teg and bwyd ellyllon, the latter the toadstool, or poisonous mushroom, and the former a butter-like substance found at great depths in the crevices of limestone rocks, in sinking for lead ore.

Their gloves, menyg ellyllon, are the bells of the digitalis, or fox-glove, the leaves of which are well known to be a strong sedative.

Their queen, for though there is no fairy queen in the large sense, Ellyllon is the fairy-king. There is a queen of the elves, none other than the Shakespearean fairy spoken of by Mercutio, who comes:

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the forefinger of an alderman
['Romeo and Juliet,' Act II,. Sc. 4]

Shakespeare's use of Welsh folklore, it should be noted, was extensive and peculiarly faithful. Keightley, in his Fairy Mythology rakes the bard soundly for his inaccurate use of English fairy superstitions. But the reproach will not apply as regards Wales.

From his Welsh informant Shakespeare got Mab, which is simply the Cymric for a little child, and the root of numberless words signifying babyish, childish, love for children (mabgar), kitten (mabgath), prattling (mabiaith), and the like, most notable of all which in this connection is mabinogi, the singular of Mabinogion, the romantic tales of enchantment told to the young in bygone ages.



The Tale of Rowli Pugh and the Ellyll

In the Huntsman's Rest Inn at Peterstone-super-Ely, near Cardiff, sat a group of humble folk one afternoon, when I chanced to stop there to rest myself by the chimney-side, after a long walk through green lanes. The men were drinking their tankards of ale and smoking their long clay pipes; and they were talking about their dogs and horses, the crops, the hard times, and the prospect of bettering themselves by emigration to America. On this latter theme I was able to make myself interesting, and acquaintance was thereupon easily established on a friendly footing. I led the conversation into the domain of folk-lore and this book is richer in illustration on many a page, in consequence. Among others, this tale was told:

On a certain farm in Glamorganshire lived Rowli Pugh, who was known far and wide for his evil luck. Nothing prospered that he turned his hand to; his crops proved poor, though his neighbours' might be good. His roof leaked in spite of all his mending. His walls remained damp when every one else's walls were dry, and above all, his wife was so feeble she could do no work. His fortunes at last seemed so hard that he resolved to sell out and clear out, no matter at what loss, and try to better himself in another country--not by going to America, for there was no America in those days. Well, and if there was, the poor Welshman didn't know it.

So as Rowli was sitting on his wall one day, hard by his cottage, musing over his sad lot, he was accosted by a little man who asked him what was the matter. Rowli looked around in surprise, but before he could answer the ellyll said to him with a grin, “There, there, hold your tongue, I know more about you than you ever dreamed of knowing. You're in trouble, and you're going away. But you may stay, now I've spoken to you. Only bid your good wife leave the candle burning when she goes to bed, and say no more about it.” With this the ellyll kicked up his heels and disappeared.

Of course the farmer did as he was bid, and from that day he prospered. Every night Catti Jones, his wife, (until recently, Welsh women retained their maiden names even after marriage) set the candle out, swept the hearth, and went to bed. And every night the fairies would come and do her baking and brewing, her washing and mending, sometimes even furnishing their own tools and materials.

The farmer was now always clean of linen and whole of garb. He had good bread and good beer. He felt like a new man, and worked like one. Everything prospered with him now as nothing had before. His crops were good, his barns were tidy, his cattle were sleek, his pigs the fattest in the parish. So things went on for three years.

One night Catti Jones took it into her head that she must have a peep at the fair family who did her work for her and, curiosity conquering prudence, she arose while Rowli Pugh lay snoring, and peeped through a crack in the door. There they were, a jolly company of ellyllon, working away like mad, and laughing and dancing as madly as they worked. Catti was so amused that in spite of herself she fell to laughing too, and at sound of her voice the ellyllon scattered like mist before the wind, leaving the room empty. They never came back any more but the farmer was now prosperous, and his bad luck never returned to plague him. 

Thank you, my dear friends, for dropping by to visit the Fairy Lady. I have enjoyed your company.

And please be happy and smile 

☾☼* ᵔᴥᵔ ᴥ•.¸¸.•´´¯) ¸.☆´¯) ƸӜƷ(¸☆´❤❤♪♫♪❤ƸӜƷ☼
✿¸.•*""*•.¸ ●★ . •✿'✿○ ° ★. *. . ¸. ° ¸.)¸.•*""*•.✿
❤✽¸•♥•*•⋆❥⋆❀ ✿ღڪےღڰۣ✿✽¸•♥•¸✽❤
ᵔᴥᵔ ᵔᴥ☾¸.•*¨ƸӜƷ ✿¸✿´~*

Fairy Ladies Saturday humor corner

Howdy peeps, Frizzy Lizzy here on the keyboard with my friend Nancy. 

Frizzy Lizzy

Nancy:  Rise and shine, Buttercup!

I'm out of bed and I made it to the keyboard. What more do you expect of me? I told you around nine when I say around 9:00 it will be closer to 9:30. 

Nancy:  Who rattled your water dish?

And please don't get on my case first thing so that I have to use uppercase; too early in the morning for that.

Nancy:  Are you ill this morning?

No! I'm fine!  My computer is not doing so fine, it's acting up again.  The way I feel right now, my definition of computer chip is what is left of it after I sledge hammer it to bits.

(The chat goes quiet, then Lizzy types)

You know, after some time chatting with a lot of these people on the web I have come to the conclusion that those who proclaim or pretend to have all this brilliance, and yet still be in the dark on most of what they chat about is beyond me. And it doesn't take a very bright light bulb to outshine me. Just bright enough to know I'm not the brightest.

Maybe they ran out of light bulbs, which I suppose is a better excuse than the ones that can't see even with a well-lit light bulb.

Government wants to put restrictions on what data is suitable for the public on the internet, they could put that money to good use on hiring a few internet cops to eliminate stupid people and that would eliminate most of the other riff raff.

Then there are those who are so gullible as to swallow all this garbage.  I think we have a few politicians that fit that description

 Composed by me Cynthia

Hi, dear friends and followers! This is just a trial run. Please share your thoughts with me if you would be interested in this humor corner on Saturdays. Something else to relax with on your weekend.

IRISH MERROW

IRISH MERROW


The Irish Merpeople are called merrows and they can be distinguished from other sea-dwelling faeries in that they wear red feather caps to propel themselves down to their homes in the depths. Should their caps be stolen or hidden, they can no longer return to their watery homes. The female merrow are very beautiful and, like other mermaids, appear before storms as an omen, but they are gentle by nature and often fall in love with mortal fishermen.

The word merrow or moruadh comes from the Irish muir (meaning sea) and oigh (meaning maid) and refers specifically to the female of the species. Mermen - the merrows male counterparts - have been rarely seen. They have been described as exceptionally ugly and scaled, with pig-like features and long, pointed teeth. Merrows themselves are extremely beautiful and are promiscuous in their relations with mortals.

Merrows have special clothing to enable them to travel through ocean currents. In Kerry, Cork and Wexford, they wear a small red cap made from feathers, called a cohullen druith. In more northernly waters they travel through the sea wrapped in sealskin cloaks, taking on the appearance and attributes of seals.

The Irish merrow differs physically from humans in that her hands have a thin webbing between the fingers. It should not be assumed that merrows are kindly and well-disposed towards humans. As members of the sidhe, or Irish fairy world, the inhabitants of Tir fo Thoinn(the Land beneath the Waves) have a natural antipathy towards humans. In some parts of Ireland, they are regarded as messengers of doom and death.
On the sea she is as wild as she is alluring, but on the land she is submissive to men.

Sometimes they come ashore in the form of little hornless cattle, but usually they are wearing their sealskin cloak. In order to come ashore, the merrow must abandon her cap or cloak, so any mortal who finds these has power over her, as she cannot return to the sea until they are retrieved. Hiding the cloak in the thatches of his house, a fisherman may persuade the merrow to marry him. Such brides are often extremely wealthy, with fortunes of gold plundered from shipwrecks. The offspring of these marriages are sometimes said to be covered with scales, just as the descendants of the Roane, or Seal People, are said to have webs between their fingers. Eventually the merrow will recover the cloak, and rediscover an urge to return to the sea so strong that she eventually leaves her mortal husband and children behind.

Many coastal dwellers have taken merrows as lovers and a number of famous Irish families claim their descent from such unions, notably the O'Flaherty and O'Sullivan families of Kerry and the MacNamaras of Clare. The Irish poet W B Yeats reported a further case in his Irish Fairy and Folk Tales: Near Bantry in the last century, there is said to have been a woman, covered in scales like a fish, who was descended from such a marriage.

Despite her wealth and beauty, you should be particularly wary about encountering this marine fairy.

The Lady of Gollerus

One day Dick Fitzgerald was at the shore on Smerwick harbor smoking his pipe and admiring the fine sunny morning. Dick was a rather lonely man. This problem could quickly be fixed if only he could find a good woman for a wife. He knew this to be fact. “For what in the wide world is a man without a wife”, he said to himself as he took the pipe from his mouth.

He was lost in his thoughts when he happened to see movement in the rocks. He saw a young beautiful creature combing her long shining sea green hair. Although he never saw one before he knew at once she was a Merrow. Not far from her he spotted her cohuleen driuth. This was the enchanted cap she wore so she could dive into the deep and stay down there. Dick knew if he gained possession of the cap she would lose the power to go into the sea. So he quietly slipped up behind her and grabbed the cap. Since she couldn’t go back in the water and Dick wouldn’t give back the cap, she agreed to marry him. This worked out quite well because Dick was looking for a wife anyway.

They had a happy marriage. She made a good wife even considering where she came from. They never lacked for money; because she could have all the gold they needed brought up to her from the ocean floor. They had two boys and a girl.

☾☼* ᵔᴥᵔ ᴥ•.¸¸.•´´¯) ¸.☆´¯) ƸӜƷ(¸☆´❤❤♪♫♪❤ƸӜƷ☼
✿¸.•*""*•.¸ ●★ . •✿'✿○ ° ★. *. . ¸. ° ¸.)¸.•*""*•.✿
❤✽¸•♥•*•⋆❥⋆❀ ✿ღڪےღڰۣ✿✽¸•♥•¸✽❤
ᵔᴥᵔ ᵔᴥ☾¸.•*¨ƸӜƷ ✿¸✿´~*