Just Before April Came

The snow piles in dark places are gone.
Pools by the railroad tracks shine clear.
The gravel of all shallow places shines.
A white pigeon reels and somersaults.

Frogs plutter and squdge—and frogs beat the air with a recurring thin steel sliver of melody.
Crows go in fives and tens; they march their black feathers past a blue pool; they celebrate an old festival.
A spider is trying his webs, a pink bug sits on my hand washing his forelegs.
I might ask: Who are these people?

by Carl Sandburg

Home Sweet Home

Three sounds make me feel the most contented and happy at home. The sound of my rooster crowing in the coop behind the house, the tick-tock of my old walnut parlor clock and the sound of the tea kettle hissing on the wood burning stove. It's a chilly night tonight but I am cozy and all is as it should be. Please excuse me while I pour a cup of Earl Grey tea?

A Frisky Lamb

A frisky lamb
And a frisky child
Playing their pranks
In a cowslip meadow:
The sky all blue
And the air all mild
And the fields all sun
And the lanes half shadow.


by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Lisa Gerrard "Redemption"

The purebred Scottish Blackface Sheep here

New Lamb born Sat NIght

No Spring

We seemed to have gone from winter right into summer if you can even call what we just had winter. We are not on par with Scotland with daffodils blooming at the same time!

On This Day in Scotland

http://iainthepict.blogspot.com/

This is a really neat Scottish Blog I recommend.

Spring

Spring


NOTHING is so beautiful as spring—
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; 5
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning 10
In Eden garden.—Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89).

The Enkindled Spring

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that's gone astray, and is lost.

by D.H. Lawrence

First Day of Spring 2012

William Blake's "The Echoing Green

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the spring.
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells' cheerful sound,
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green.

Old John with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say:
'Such, such were the joys
When we all, girls and boys,
In our youth-time were seen
On the echoing green.'

Till the little ones weary
No more can be merry;
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mother
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest;
And sport no more seen
On the darkening green.

Enjoy Me

Enjoy Me
By St. Teresa of Avila

Just these two words He spoke
Changed my life:


“Enjoy Me.”
What a burden I thought I was to carry--
A crucifix, as did He.
Love once said to me, "I know a song,
Would you like to hear it?
And laughter came from every brick in the street
And from every pore
In the sky.
After a night of prayer, he
Changed my life when
He sang,
"Enjoy Me


http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/587885/Saint-Teresa-of-Avila
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shared with me By Rev. Paul Womack today

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

The Chieftains - O'Sullivan's March

The pictures with this are wonderful too!

Consider the lilies how they grow

Finbar and Eddie Furey- The Curragh Of Kildare

The Curragh Of Kildare

Restoring and a Embossed Royal stand Lamp

This lamp was taken apart and boiled for 20 minutes in washing soda and then cleaned with a toothbrush.




This lamp does not have a perfect plated finish but any use of steel wool or Bar Keepers Friend and the plating would come off. This was not really a high end plating job to begin with. I like this look very much depite a few flaws, it really suits a Chautauqua Cottage look or farm house.

Come Join us during Lent on Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/CelticChristianTradition


The Celtic Christian Tradition

Quote of the day.

Quote of the day.
"I fear for class warfare. It's so egregious these days, the disparity, and it's not just a talking point. If you''re not white, educated and almost willing to sacrifice your soul to a corporation, you'd better be afraid.” Kris Rankin, 65, of Dayton OH, speaking of the economy.
(Los Angeles Times)

Fionnuala Gill - Deus Meus (Adiuva Me)

This is a song in Irish Gaelic and Latin. It is around 800 years old and is a macaronic song, like 'Siúil a Rún' and 'The Shan Van Vought'. It's very rare to hear Gaelic with Latin though.

Fionnuala Gill - Deus Meus (Adiuva Me)

Deus meus, adiuva me
My God, help me
Tuc dam do sheirc, a meic mo Dé
Tabhair dom do shearc, a mhic mo Dé
Give to me your love, O son of my God

In meum cor, ut sanum sit
Into my heart/soul, that it be healthy
Tuc, a Rí rán, do grád co gribb
Tabhair, a Rí rán, do ghrá go grip
Give, O noble king, your love swiftly
(note: grip is an archaic word only used in poetry)

Domine, da quod peto a te
Lord, give what I beg of you
Tuc, tuc co dían, a grían glan glé
Tabhair, tabhair go dian, a ghrian ghlan ghlé
Give, give swiftly, O clear bright sun
(note: an older meaning of dian is swift; check out déine which is the noun-form of dian and retains both meanings of intensity and swiftness)

Hanc spero rem et quaero quam
This thing I hope and which I seek
Do sherc dam sunn, do sherc dam tall
Do shearc dom sonn, do shearc dom thall
Your love to me in this world, your love to me in the next world
(note: sunn is an archaic word which means here (in this place) but in this sense contrasts with "tall" to mean "in this world" as opposed to the next)

Tuum amorem, sicut vis
Your love, just as you wish
Tuc dam co trén (at-bér do-rís)
Tabhair dom go tréan, a déarfad arís
give me powerfully*, I will say again
(note: "go tréan" also means "substantively", which seems a better fit; déarfad is a form of the verb abair, which you can see in at-bér)

Quaero, postulo, peto a te
I search, I desire, I beg of you
Mo beith i nim, a meic dil Dé
Mo bheatha i neamh, a mhic dhil Dé
My life in heaven, dear son of God

Domine mi, exaudi me
My God, hear me
M' ainim rop lán dot grád, a Dé
M'anam bheith lán ded ghrá, a Dhé
My soul may (it) be full of love, O God
(note: "rop" seems to be a verb form cognate with modern "raibh" which is the subjunctive of "to be")


http://www.youtube.com/user/fionnualagillmusic?ob=0&feature=results_main

Nora had a ewe lamb last night

Grandmamma's Kitchen

In grandmamma's kitchen, things got in a riot-
The cream in a pot on the shelf,
Where everything always seemed peaceful and quiet,
Got whipped, for I heard it myself.
And grandmamma said-such a queer thing to say,
That it made some things better to whip them that way.


Some bold naughty eggs that refused to be eaten,
On toast with their brothers may be,
Were stripped of their clothing and cruelly beaten
Right where all the dishes could see.
And grandmamma said though the poor things might ache,
The harder the beating, the lighter the cake.


The bright golden butter was petted and patted
And coaxed to be shapely and good.
But it finally had to be taken and spatted
Right hard with a paddle of wood.
When grandmamma carried the round balls away,
The buttermilk sulked, and looked sour all day.


The water declared that the coffee was muddy,
But an egg settled that little fuss.
Then the steak and the gridiron got in a bloody
And terrible broil! Such a muss!
And a flat-iron spat at grandma in the face,
And I ran away from the quarrelsome place.


by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A return to the cold this Sunday

I heard the weather forecast and its calling for some bitter weather Sunday and Monday. Thursday was pretty mild here. We have more mud than snow presently. None of the other ewes have lambed yet. I hope they hold off until latter in March when there are few of these sudden changes back to bitter winter. I have four ewes to go. Two are Scottish Blackfaces and two are crosses that are part Blackface.

A March Snow

Let the old snow be covered with the new:
The trampled snow, so soiled, and stained, and sodden.
Let it be hidden wholly from our view
By pure white flakes, all trackless and untrodden.
When Winter dies, low at the sweet Spring's feet
Let him be mantled in a clean, white sheet.

Let the old life be covered by the new:
The old past life so full of sad mistakes,
Let it be wholly hidden from the view
By deeds as white and silent as snow-flakes.

Ere this earth life melts in the eternal Spring
Let the white mantle of repentance fling
Soft drapery about it, fold on fold,
Even as the new snow covers up the old.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox