All the Clouds

All the Clouds
by Kevin MacNeil (Love and Zen in the Outer Hebrides)

And it would be simpler to contain all the clouds
in a single jar unlidded
than to expect this love to be returned.
Just as the wind - breathless - carries a song
and never quietens its bustle to listen,
just as a bird's shadow streams over a lake,
just as our country exists and it doesn't,
and just as our world's original dawn
will never again equal itself, but rises blushing
that it be admired as a constant failing,
so you are here and are not here,
your face a brighter mist in my dreams gently fading.




'Ille Dhuinn, 'S Toigh Leam Thu perfomed by Julie Fowlis

Mairi's Wedding

http://www.youtube.com/allanshr

If you look really close you can catch a glimpse of my sister Nanci and I dancing together in the foreground. We were marking her birthday and she is, as they say, a hoot. The tape is kinda dark so we are hard to find. I am fairly certain I had a happy grin on my face all night. How could I not! We did a fairly good job faking the steps as we went along and no one seemed to mind our mistakes. (To the guy in the green shirt: I am sorry for bumping into you. The dance kept changing directions!) I'm taller than my sister, so she got to do all the twirling which suited me fine since after two drinks I couldn't/shouldn't be a doin no extra twirling anyhoo. The song is Mairi's Wedding, an obvious crowd favorite, and I know the words so I was one happy girl. Except singing while dancing was a bit tricky what with learning the steps on the fly and all. The happy couple at the end (you know, the ones dancing with abandon) were on their honeymoon celebrating. There was also this really old couple (they had to be in their 80s) on the dance floor (unfortunately you can't see them on the tape). They were so perfectly matched and lovely to watch. Warmed my heart that cold winter's night.

The Vatersay Boys are from the far southern isles of Barra and Vatersay and describe themselves as "five piece band playing traditional music with passion." One article I found said "...they have been creating a stir of madness and mayhem throughout the Western Isles and much further afield." Well, the "madness and mayhem" (what??) sounds a bit overstated :)), but I guess to a more sedate ceilidh dance crowd the Boys might be rough and rowdy. But I am no one to comment on ceilidhs (R. Stornoway pretty much blows his cork opinionating on the modern idea of ceilidhs). I just think The Vatersay Boys are fun.

Well, ok. I'll 'fess. There was a night we danced until the last song was sung. It was our darling niece's wedding not the ceilidh dance with Mairi's Wedding. It was not at The Ferry in Glasgow, but under the Rotunda dome in San Francisco. The band was not The Vatersay Boys, but a high end SF band which are probably famous. However, some of what I wrote was true. Nanci's husband wasn't there and I don't have a man, so yes she and I did dance together. (We also danced with the groom's buddy who had a certain appreciation of older women.) And we did laugh a whole lot and we did have a great time. And it could have been at The Ferry and it could have been the music of The Vatersay Boys, but it wasn't.

50 years in exile - The Dalai Lama

http://www.youtube.com/userLukaBloomVideos

As I Waved Goodbye - Luka Bloom

There's an ancient place, it's a city of grace
Where I lived as in a dream
Where the elders prayed and the children played
By the mountainside and stream

As I waved goodbye from the riverside
It was too much to take in
I could see the place, and imagine the face
Of the young Tibetan God-King

It's a bad old wind, should no good begin
From a hurt that has been done
When the line was crossed and the land was lost
Oh, the holy exiled ones

As I waved goodbye from the riverside
It was too much to take in
I could see the place, and imagine the face
Of the young Tibetan God-King

I can hear the cry of the geese that fly
Between the mountain and the moon
And the flags that blow in Himalayan snow
Are carried like a haunting tune

As I waved goodbye from the riverside
It was too much to take in
I could see the place, and imagine the face
Of the young Tibetan God-King

whiskey in the jar - x2

St.Paddy's Day is coming......
The original (Luke Kelly/Dubliners) and Thin Lizzy (Gary Moore and Eric Bell) versions. Love them both.


http://www.youtube.com/kellyoneill


http://www.youtube.com/Snegovic

Luke Kelly - Whiskey in The Jar
As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced me pistol and I've then produced me rapier
saying stand and deliver for you are a bold deciever

Chorus:
musha ring dooram doo dooram da,
whack fol my daddy o
whack fol my daddy o
there's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money it made a pretty penny
I put it in my pocket and took it home to Jenny
she sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
but the devil take the woman for they never can be easy

Chorus

I went into my chamber for all to take a slumber
I dreamt of golden jewels for sure it was no wonder
but Jenny drew me charges and filled them up with water
then sent for Captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter

Chorus

It was early in the morning just before I rose to travel
up comes a band with footmen an likewise captain Farrell
I first produced me pistol for she'd stolen away my rapier
but I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken

Chorus

There's some take delight in the carriages a rollin
and others take delight in the hurling and the bowlin
but I take delight in the juice of the barley
and courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

Chorus

If anyone can aid me it's me brother in army
if I can can find his station in Cork or in Killaney
and if he'll go with me we'll go roaming in Kilkenny
and I'll sure he'll treat me better than my own disporting Jenny

Chorus

Gary Moore and Eric Bell
As I was going over the Cork and Kerry mountains
I saw Captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier
I said "stand and deliver or the devil he may take you"

Chorus:
In the rain, you might do, you might die, yeah-yeah
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar-o

I took all of his money and it was a pretty penny
I took all of his money, yeah, and I brought it home to Molly
She swore that she loved me, no, never would she leave me
But the devil take that woman, yeah, for you know she tricked me easy

Chorus

Being drunk and weary I went to Molly's chamber
Taking Molly with me, but I never knew the danger
For about six or maybe seven, yeah, in walked Captain Farrell
I jumped up, fired my pistols, and I shot him with both barrels, yeah

Chorus

Now some men like the fishing and some men like the fowling
And some men like to hear, to hear the cannonball a-roaring
Me I like sleeping, especially in my Molly's chamber
But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain, yeah

Chorus

Whiskey in the jar-o, yeah

In the rain, you might do, you might die
In the rain, you might do, you might die, hey
In the rain, you might do, you might die
In the rain, you might do, you might die, yeah

American Self-loathing

http://www.youtube.com/sofievm
(sound is out of sink with the visual, but no matter)

Another reason why I love Luka Bloom :)

Open up your arms
Let the healing begin
For those of us still standing
Let some light shine in
Shine on your hopeless days
Shine on your raging nights
Shine on the slip of a dream
Give us all new lives

Cry, and be still
Cry, cry the bitter tears
For the stolen years
Let's learn love songs
Sweet love songs

Songs that don't deny
What has been and done
Songs that throw some light
On each and everyone
Songs that reach across
Divides and barricades
Songs that civilize
And promise brighter days

Cry, and be still
Cry, cry the bitter tears
For the stolen years
Let's learn love songs
Sweet love songs

Songs that celebrate
When nothing has been won
Songs that agitate
For lives that might be fun
Why not? Why not?
Reach out and be a star
Why not? Why not?
We have come this far

Open up your arms
Let's learn love songs
Open up your arms
Let's learn love songs
Open up your arms
Let's learn love songs
Open up your arms

These thoughts follow Luka's lyrics because I figured if anyone from those dots on the map decided to scroll down the page this far, you have at the least, a curious mind. Anyway, at the risk of opening myself up to god-only-knows-what (thus posting this with a degree of trepidation), I propose the following because dammit, it matters. (I just 'finished' The Stornoway Way and it was fuckininspiring (profanity just applies) and those who have read it know what I am talking about, and those who have not picked up the book, do it. It is one of the most authentic and amazing works of art and life ever written. Pure genius.)

I never intended this little blog o'mine to be a tedious and boring political platform, or the rantings and ravings of some cranky malcontent. Others are much better at, and relish in, such writings. It's not my thing to be preachy or assume anyone gives a rat's ass/arse about my opinion. I would rather sing some songs. :)

That being said, my home is the U S of A. I am American born and bred, and despite all that is wrong, I still believe in my country. We come from every podunk corner of the world, every religious belief or non-belief, every language, every culture/background imaginable, you name it, we have it, we are it - our identity (if we have one) is as mixed up as we are. We are bits and pieces of everyone. Cohesiveness is an insanely ridiculous task. We are a very young, massive and powerful country and we make a lot of mistakes, many with profound consequences.

The Land of the Free and Home of the Brave is a mess and hated world wide. True. I see anger written about my country on the internet and it makes me sad. Americans are perceived as ignorant people who believe their shit don't stink. The thing is, we don't need others to hate us because we have plenty of self-loathing to go around. We hate us too. We like our neighbors, friends... and we love our country but we hate the collective us.

NPR's Dick Meyer explores all this self-loathing in his book Why We Hate Us: American Discontent in the New Millennium . You can check out an August 2008 podcast of him reading from his book at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93583575

There is a general negative feeling about the way we collectively behave. We hate the obnoxious, selfish, greedy, narcissistic, self righteous, rude, boorish, and belligerent bad behavior (especially in our leaders and celebrities - so called roll models). Our culture represents the worst of us, not the best. Where are the sources where we find meaning in life? TV shows, commercials, just marketing in general totally screws with values with false and phony pictures of happiness. It is absurd to think contentment is related to what toothpaste one uses or what cracker you eat or what car you drive! Turn on the TV any time of the day or night, and you will see bad behavior glorified and human misery considered entertainment.

In many ways we have lost sight of what is authentic. We lack confidence and trust in our leaders (in politics, industry, judicial system...) to effectively and sanely solve problems. In 8 short years, a bully and his buddies told bald faced lies, started a war, killed needlessly and ran this country into the ground. Electing Obama is just one step in the right direction. Why have we not demanded more of our media, politicians, Wall Street, Madison Avenue, the clergy....?

Why, with the massive increase in material well-being since WWII are we so discontent? 'Stuff' does not translate to real and lasting happiness. Meyer partially points to the loss of community since the social changes in the 1960s as a huge factor. Unlike just a generation ago, we willingly choose to move about and away from family - we no longer live in stable generational communities. Living amongst the familiar has it's own downfalls, but living among strangers makes one so very much alone and frankly, nutty. Warm human relationships are essential to happiness. ("...this is why we're here: human warmth..." Ah, there it is on page 210 in Kevin MacNeil/R. Stornoway's book - god love him!) Without warm human relationships, people have looked to the tv box and it's kin for companionship and guidance, and have bought into a false source of values.

The obnoxious and the loud are the news worthy. Not so visible are my countrymen who love and respect the planet and all the people, plants and animals on it. Many make conscious efforts to help those less fortunate, to make positive change, to tread lightly on the earth, and live within their means, but they go about it quietly/behind the scenes. And even the well meaning get sucked in to the madness, into the very seepage of the crap we despise. It is pervasive and so hard to escape. And I too am guilty.

There is no viable alternative to concrete changes. At the risk of sounding simplistic, we have to first be aware of and acknowledge where we are and how we got this way. Some folks' eyes need to be opened up to see the big picture. Cause and effect on a global scale. We don't live in a bubble! One only has to look at the very real economic crisis to see how actions profoundly affect the entire world. I am not sure we can stop the media machine, but we can control how it affects our individual lives. I am not the only one who is fed up. There is a shift in what we demand from our leaders - we have to also demand more from ourselves. Not buy into the garbage on tv and speak up against it. Teach our children real values and to be kind in every sense. Reach out. Forgive (I for one, have no room in my heart for hate) and move forward.

One person at a time. Perhaps one song at a time. :)

Love-making in St. Kilda

March was supposed to be all about Ireland, but you know what Robbie Burns would say about the best laid plans......


Views of Saint Kilda set to Oran Am An Iasgach
Sung by young Lewis Gaelic singer Calum Alex MacMillan. Music as soothing as this does not need translation. (Calum Alex is also in Daimh, a super talented and fun Gaelic pipe and fiddle band. There is some California connection with Daimh which someday I will investigate.)

I usually sleep like a baby. Fresh air coming in the opened window, comfy bedding, dog softly snoring, all's well. Not tonight. So, while the rest of my world slumbers, I have swaddled myself in a blanket and sit at the computer to find some of that Scottish poetry I am so fond of. After a bit of pecking on the net, I found the poem Love-making in St. Kilda by Donald Murray from his work The Dark Horse (Winter 07-08). Murray is from Ness in the Isle of Lewis. Not long ago I shared the story of Ewan Gillies (I forgot at the time to mention the St. Kilda Tapes), so the poem is a welcomed friend, wonderfully light and beautiful.

When a man makes love to a St. Kildan woman -
Her moans and sighs are like the cries of birds......

It can read in its entirety at http://www.spl.org.uk/best-poems/017.htm

An Gorta Mór - The Great Famine

My Irish family has been frequenting my thoughts of late. Correspondingly, Luka Bloom’s songs play in a continuous loop in my head. That man is something else! I have 3 of his CD’s and love each one. Much to my one son’s chagrin, his mother has to learn the songs as well. The melodies move into my son just like osmosis. Without effort or thought he can easily quote Black is the Color (well, it’s actually a Scottish song) and City of Chicago. I am completely in love with the sound and lyrics and can’t quite get enough.

I have written much about my love for the small branch of my Mother’s family from the Hebrides. They are special in a way my words fail to describe. The rest of her people are from beautiful and awe inspiring Ireland. For more centuries than I can comprehend, their feet were on Irish soil. They had a strong and ancient culture - chiefs of note and clan leaders. Ireland was home - it was everything.

Ancient Ireland was divided into four Provinces: Ulster in the north, Leinster in the east, Connaugth in the west, and Munster in the south. My family came from both north and south. The Heaneys (O’hEighnighs) were from the old kingdom of Oriel which merged with Ulster in the 12th century. The Callaghans (O’Ceallachains) were from Munster. The Reilleys and Gallaghers were most likely from the northern Ulster region. Nowadays my family surnames are everywhere.

I cannot blog about them without first mentioning the events that changed everything. My family and their countrymen were the Disposable People. We have all heard of the Irish Potato Famine (1845-1852). For the millions of us of Irish descent, the Great Famine/An Gorta Mór is not just some period of time to be studied in a world history course and then forgotten. It is the very real history and tragedy of our family. In a nutshell, the blight invaded and spread and destroyed the crops, the main source of food. Things just compounded and worsened. Unable to pay the rents they were evicted from their homes and had to live out in the elements. There were outbreaks of cholera and typhus. One could stay and die of starvation, disease, freezing cold... or board the ships and immigrate to America. (Yes, America held out her arms to those who desperately needed her.) It was not much of a choice.

Their skin was literally hanging on their bones. Death was all around. Life was bleak. With just the clothes on their backs, they boarded the coffin-ships not knowing what the future held. Perhaps their children would survive the voyage, perhaps not. Hope was all they had.

Much has been written about the response from the government to this crisis. Although the potatoes were completely ruined, other sources of food existed but were not made readily available. Food aid was eventually sent, but one had to purchase the grain. And how exactly were these poor souls supposed to come up with money to do so? In the end, a million lie dead and a million immigrated. Ireland’s population was decreased by an unbelievable 1/3.

Time does help us heal. But for many, the genocide of Ireland’s people continues to be a sore and open wound. I for one, have no room in my heart for hate. Forgive yes, for those who failed to feed are long dead. But forget, no.

They may have been disposable, but they survived and thrived and built a new home in America. In the history of my family, it has been but a drop in the bucket of time since they arrived. For me, I am happy to focus on the truly inspiring strength of the human spirit of the Irish immigrants - my family of whom I am so proud. We will continue to sing and teach our children the songs from Ireland. Their legacy is alive and well.



Luka Bloom - City of Chicago/Cathair Mhór Chicago
Sung in Irish Gaeilge. The piece at the beginning is from "The field" with Richard Harris and Sean Bean. (written by John B Keane)
http://www.youtube.com/96cambridge

Thiar i gcathair mhór Chicago,
Is an oích' ag dul faoi scáth,
Tá daoine ann ag smaointiú,
Ar na sléibhte i nDún na nGall.

An tráth sin, lár na haoise,
Le linn an Ghorta Mhóir,
Pianta gránna ocrais --
D'imigh milliún lán le deor'.

Gan saibhreas ar a n-intinn,
Gan ghlóir ar bith taobh thiar,
Ag streacailt 'is ag caoineadh,
Báid Bhána ar an mhuir.

Thiar i gcathair mhór Chicago,
Is an oích' ag dul faoi scáth,
Tá daoine ann ag smaointiú,
Ar na sléibhte i nDún na nGall.

Ar roinnt acu bhí saibhreas,
Roinnt eile, clú is cáil,
Bhí anró ann gan ghearán,
Is cailleadh ar an máigh.

Ag siúl ar fud na tíre,
'S ar bhóithre iarainn leo,
Ag scaipeadh cheol a gcroíthe,
'Tabhairt sochair dá gcuid bróin.

Thiar i gcathair mhór Chicago,
Is an oích' ag dul faoi scáth,
Tá daoine ann ag smaointiú,
Ar na sléibhte i nDún na nGall.

..hear the porridge bubblin' ...

The time is right to pay respect to my Irish family roots, many of whom were from the land around Donegal County.

Jim McKee performing Homes Of Donegal (http://www.jimmckee.ie)
Adapted from lyrics by Seán MacBride around 1955.
Melody much older - 150 years or so.
Paul Brady performs this as well and he's wonderful, but I rather like this young man Jim McKee, who also plays in the White Hare Band.



Missing verse:
To see your homes at parting day of that I never tire,
And hear the porridge bubblin' in a big pot on the fire.
The lamp alight, the dresser bright, the big clock on the wall,
O, a sight serene, celestial scene, in the homes of Donegal.

Over across the sea, they eat a dish called porridge. I am pretty sure it’s a general catch-all term for hot cereal, but I could be wrong. Porridge is a word we see in books (Jane Austin’s characters eat porridge) and stories (Goldilocks ate porridge) and in old nursery rhymes (please porridge hot, please porridge cold) originating from England. But porridge is just never ever used in American English language. If I asked my sons if they would like a bowl of porridge, they would look at me sideways and say I was taking my interest in the old country a bit too far. And I would be hard pressed to disagree. Americans use the phrase a bowl of oatmeal, or bowl of Cream of Wheat.

In the American South they eat a hot cereal called grits or hominy. Grits are coarse grains of dried corn kernels. The texture is well....gritty, but the taste is somewhat palatable if you doctor it up. The First Americans made grits and taught the recipe to the settlers. Grits are only marketed in the South. California was once 'owned' by Mexico so we have a lot of Mexican heritage/culture. Grits are pretty much the same thing as masa, with masa being ground a bit finer. Tortillas and tamales are made from masa, which in my opinion is how grits should be used. On a side note, if someone tells you to “kiss my grits” it’s not a good thing. After commenting on their hot cereal of choice, some Southerner might just say such to me! :)

By whatever name, it’s a perfect rainy day meal regardless of which side of the sea one calls home. I would be very interested in learning how the Scottish and Irish cook their porridge. There are many variations, but here’s my basic recipe for one serving.

Cook your oats or Cream of Wheat in a bit less water, or milk than usual. Personally I think runny oats are kinda yucky and the butter some people add is completely unnecessary. Use whatever type of oats you have in the cupboard (rolled, stone cut...).

I keep a bag of unsweetened blueberries (grown up in Washington State) in my freezer. Some people prefer the pretty little wild blueberries, but the larger sized blueberries are just fine. We have a warehouse store called Costco and they sell everything in large quantities and at very low prices. Take some blueberries (1/2 cup or so) and nuke them until they are warm and juicy. Don’t fret about the berries if a few turn to liquid. Remember, you decreased the amount of liquid used in cooking the oats. Blueberries have the best antioxidant properties, but of course you could use blackberries or raspberries. Wild blackberries grow locally along the moist riparian zones and are best eaten right off the vine. :)

I like to add just a smidgen of raw organic blue agave nectar. Yes, from the same agave plant as tequila but without the kick. I visited a tequila “factory” in Mexico years ago. Factory just meant a shed with a fire pit and a press. They heat/cook the huge heart of the plant in the fire, and then extract the pulp in the press, which then gets fermented. The floor was all sticky from the agave juice. The whole process from harvest to finished product is very labor intensive. The agave sweetener is somewhat similar to honey, but is thinner and does not crystallize. It's very nice in a cup of tea. There are different strengths; the dark amber is the most flavorful. It is much sweeter than syrup or sugar so less is needed. Always buy the raw organic. I don’t know if it is available overseas. If anyone wants some, I would be happy to slow-boat over a bottle.

Add a couple tablespoons of unsalted sunflower seeds, or almonds or walnuts. You could roast the nuts first in the oven for a few minutes, but it's not necessary. If you don’t have berries, put in a couple tablespoons of raisins and skip the sweetener.

A word about almonds (actually a seed, but known as a nut). Surrounding my community in addition to rice fields and olive orchards are acres and acres and acres of nut tree orchards – mostly walnuts and almonds. It’s big business and vital to our economy. In the Spring when the orchards are in full pink and white blossom, it's a wonderful site to experience. And the fragrance is so sweet. Harvesting is done by shaking the living daylights out of the tree, until the nuts fall off. Poor little trees, they get quite a beating from the shaker machine. I mention the shaking because it is very significant when one speaks the word almond. Once the nut is shaken off the tree, the letter L is removed or "shaken off" the word. So, one might have an almond tree, but one eats amonds (pronounced with a short a), not almonds. :) I kid you not. It is a surefire way to spot a local from a transplant. Those good-old-boy-growers will give you no respect if you pronounce the L.

Stir it all together. I suppose you could add some milk but the blueberries have plenty of juice for my taste. For a treat, add a tablespoon of dark chocolate chips to your bowl. Yum!