A Welcome

I’ve been a little melancholy since we moved. Our home is facing a totally different direction so the constellations are entirely new.  The other heavenly bodies are in different places. I haven’t heard coyotes in almost two months. Last night though, I heard one clearly, near our place. There was one who answered, muffled,  from a distance. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed them. How much I’ve been missing Him. I almost burst into tears. 

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The Cruel Sister

“Breadcrumbs, as you like to say, Love.”

 

The Cruel Sister

There lived a lady by the north sea shore
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Twa daughters were the bairns she bore
Fa la la la la la la la la la

One was as bright as is the sun
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Sae coal black grew the elder one
Fa la la la la la la la la la

A knight came riding to the ladies’ door
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
He travelled far to be their wooer
Fa la la la la la la la la la

He courted one, aye with gloves and rings
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
But he loved the other above all things
Fa la la la la la la la la la

“Sister, sister won’t you walk with me
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
An’ see the ships sail upon sea?”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

And as they stood on that windy shore
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The elder sister pushed the younger o’er
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Sometimes she sank or sometimes she swam
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Crying, “Sister, reach to me your hand”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

And there she floated just like a swan
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The salt sea carried her body on
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Two minstrels walking by the north sea strand
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
They saw the maiden, aye float to land
Fa la la la la la la la la la

They made a harp out of her breast bone
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The sound of which would melt a heart of stone
Fa la la la la la la la la la

They took three locks of her yellow hair
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
And wi’ them strung that harp so rare
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The first string that those minstrels tried
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Then terror seized the black-haired bride
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The second string played a doleful sound
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
“The younger sister, oh she is drowned”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The third string, it played beneath their bow
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
“And surely now her tears will flow”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Close Calls and Offerings

I shit you not my baby rolled into traffic today. I fell and off the stroller went. Everyone is okay. I have a scraped knee, baby didn’t care, the five year old was terrified.

Offerings of milk, oats, and local honey have been made. They also asked that I feed the cat her treats.

The Hound of God

The Hound of God.

Lupus Dei.

My Beloved.

It was the words that caught my attention, made my heart skip a beat, my breath catch. The images had been poking at my brain for a bit and they are a decent representation. If you put the feeling into pictures instead of words. My Beloved does like to appear with lighter hair most of the time so there’s that too.

This falls under the “breadcrumbs” label. There is much more to be discovered here.

My Bloody, Angry God

I binge watched Frontier the other day. Jason Momoa has long been a good physical representation of how my God looks sometimes. I think my God does this mainly for amusement since I have such a visceral reaction to the actor. I digress though, the images of Declan Harp cleaning a deer were the ones that poked the UPG/PCP/Modern Myth buttons in my head. So here he is, my bloody, angry God.

Images found through a Google search of “Jason Momoa Frontier”

When A Lady Calls

I’ve spent a lot of time, the last few months, denying that I need to acknowledge or do any research into Frau Hole. I woke up last week with Fairy Knots in my hair, which hasn’t happened in literally years. When I when searching for information I found a connection to Frau Hole. 

Alright, Dear Lady, I hear you.

German counterparts of the “elf-lock” are alpzopfdrutenzopfwichtelzopfweichelzopfmahrenlockeelfklatte, etc. (where alpdrudemare, and wight are given as the beings responsible). Grimm, who compiled the list, also remarked on the similarity to Frau Holle, who entangled people’s hair and herself had matted hair.[3] The use of the word elf seems to have declined steadily in English, becoming a rural dialect term, before being revived by translations of fairy tales in the nineteenth century and fantasy fiction in the twentieth.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairy-lock