The Feast of Brigid The red-haired girl draws milkin a pail from the earth. The earth is a spotted cowwith teats that are geysersand anthills and rotten logs. The red-haired girlstrokes and strokesthe dark soil. When the milk rises in spurtsshe catches its arc of white frothto give out to visitors. At the gate ofContinue reading “Feast of Brigid”
Category Archives: Saints
Simmel Cake and Saint Judas
This morning, half watching a cookery show, I heard Mary Berry talking about how there were only 11 disciples on the Simmel cake. The reason being that of course they would not allow a traitor such as Judas to decorate such an auspicious cake. That got me thinking and I looked back on a postContinue reading “Simmel Cake and Saint Judas”
Candlemass 2nd February
Bede records in his Reckoning of Time (A.D. 725) the use of candles at the Feast of Purification was common in his day. (Latin Text) O]n the feast of St Mary, the whole populace with the priests and ministers goes on procession through the churches and the city neighbourhoods, all singing devout hymns, and carrying in theirContinue reading “Candlemass 2nd February”
Imbolc – The Feast of Brigid*
The Feast of Brigid The red-haired girl draws milkin a pail from the earth. The earth is a spotted cowwith teats that are geysersand anthills and rotten logs. The red-haired girlstrokes and strokesthe dark soil. When the milk rises in spurtsshe catches its arc of white frothto give out to visitors. At the gate ofContinue reading “Imbolc – The Feast of Brigid*”
Sankta Lucia – Darkness shall take flight soon…A new day will rise again
Natten går tunga fjät rund gård och stuva; kring jord, som sol förlät*, skuggorna ruva. Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia. Natten går stor och stum nu hörs dess vingar i alla tysta rum sus som av vingar. Se, på vår tröskel står vitklädd med ljus i hårContinue reading “Sankta Lucia – Darkness shall take flight soon…A new day will rise again”
Saint Judas
Saint Judas When I went out to kill myself, I caught A pack of hoodlums beating up a man. Running to spare his suffering, I forgot My name, my number, how my day began, How soldiers milled around the garden stone And sang amusing songs; how all that day Their javelins measured crowds; howContinue reading “Saint Judas”
The Delightful Mrs P 