Gearrscéal: Ann agus Troscán: Rialacha an Tí

 

 Ann agus Troscán: Rialacha an Tí

 by JMCressy

 

 

Taobh amuigh, labhraíonn na crainn  idir a gcéile faoi báisteach milis agus grian te.  Istigh an teach, ní raibh sé chomh síochánta.

"Ná bia ag roinnt."

"Ceart go leor. “

“Nó éadaí.”

“Cinnte, is dóigh.”

“Ná bí ag cúlchaint le aon duine fúm.”

“Ná bí ag caint faoin bhfear dathúil nua fiú?”

Thost Troscán.  “Ceapann tú gur fear dathúil mé?”

“Ar ndóigh!” a dúirt Ann. “Sióg nó elf atá ionat.   Nach bhfuil do mhuintir go léir álainn?”

“Níl gach duine de na Daoine Maith álainn le daoine.”

“Bhuel, is dóigh libh go bhfuil gach duine gránna.”

D’fhéach Troscán uirthi go dáiríre.  “Titimid i ngrá le anamacha, ná dathúlacht.”

Baineadh siar as Ann.   “Anois, do shúile...”

“...ómra te agat,”  chuir Troscán bailchríoch ar a habairt.

D'fhéach siad ar a chéile fan tamall.

Chroith Ann í féin.  “Mar sin, rialacha tí !”

“Go díreach! Teastaíonn siad seo uainn. Níl mé ag iarraidh bogadh.”

“Bog? Níl tú ceangailte leis an áit seo?”

“ ‘Mar gheall ar gheasa ársa’ ?”  Gáire Troscán.  “Níl, is maith liom an áit seo.   Ach má tá na Rialacha briste, ní bheidh aon rogha agam ...”

Ansin, chuala siad cnag ar an doras.

Bhí cuma bhuartha ar Troscán, ach a dúirt Ann, “ Ná bí buartha.  Níl ann ach Auntie.”

D’oscail sí an doras.  Sheas seanbhean ar an bpóirse. Bhí gruaig ghearr, daite uirthi  agus  bhí  súile donn aici, cosúil le Ann.  Chaith sí léine gheal le bláthanna trópaiceacha agus bhí go leor fuinnimh aici.

“Oh haigh, Auntie!” a dúirt Ann. “Tar isteach!”

“Go raibh maith agat, a stór.   Thángamar as.. Sin iad!”  Bhí an cána agus an umar ocsaigine in aici leis an doras.  “D’imigh muid ar a leithéid de dheifir. Tá sé dochreidte, nach é? Mothaím...”

“ ...‘Fiche bliain níos óige.’  Dúirt tú arís, " a dúirt Ann.

“Ar a laghad!  Bhuel!  Seo cé a bhí tú i bhfolach!”

D'amharc Ann uirthi le huafás.  Bhí a haintín ag féachaint go díreach ar Troscán.

Sheas Troscán ag an scanradh freisin.  “An bhfeiceann tú mé?”

“Is féidir le gach cailín tú a fheiceáil!” a dúirt Auntie. “Tá sé dathúil, nach é?”

Chas Troscán a cheann agus d'fhéach sé ar Ann. “Is féidir léi mé a fheiceáil.”

“Na habair!” dúirt Ann de chogar.

Shín Auntie amach a lámh chun Troscán.   “Is mise Aunt Gabby.  Glaoigh orm ‘Auntie’.”

“Croith a lámh,” dúirt Ann.  “Bhí  normálta.”

“Haigh. Is mise Troscán.  Tá mé i mo chónaí san áiléar.”

 

“I ndáiríre? Tá lochta ag mo mhac sa Ghearmáin.  An bhfuil tú i do chónaí in aice láimhe?”

“Tá. An-ghar.”

“Agus tá an feisteas sin go hiontach! An bhfuil sibh ag dul chuig cóisir?”

Bhí Ann buíoch as an leithscéal.  “Sea! Níos déanaí,” a dúirt sí.

“Um tráthnóna,” dúirt Troscán.

“Anocht,” a dúirt Ann.

“Sin réalaíoch.  Tá an chuma air go bhfuil adharca ort i ndáiríre!”

“Cén fáth go bhfeiceann sí mé?”

“Níl a fhios agam...”

“Bhuel, táimid dul go dtí an Spáinn! Feicfimid sibh i gceann coicíse!” a dúirt Auntie. “Tá spraoi againn! Go deas bualadh leat! Slán!"

Thóg sí na rudaí agus d’imigh sí.

Bhí siad báite ina gcuid smaointe ar feadh tamall.

“An raibh an bainne atá ann?” a dúirt Ann

B'fhéidir.   Ach, nach bhfuil sé sin thart?

“Fan! Ar ól tú mo bhainne?

Ar ndóigh. D’ól tú mo cheannsa. Ní dochar ar bith é sin.   Gan an draíocht, an tsubstaint...”  chuaigh a ghlór in éag.

“Déantar tú básmhar?

“Ná bí amaideach. Díreach le feiceáil.  Bhí an tsubstaint a bhí fágtha dhá uair chomh trom.”

Dhún sé a shúile nóiméad.

“Damnú air!” a dúirt sé.

“Ceard?” a dúirt Ann.

"Ní féidir liom mé féin a chasadh dofheicthe."

“An bhfuil sé sin go dona?”

“Tá.  Ní fheictear dúinn riamh ach amháin iad siúd atá in ann a fheiceáil. Agus iad siúd a roghnaigh Féach.

“An bhfuil sé buan?”

“Níl a fhios agam.   Ach mura bhfuil, tá trioblóid ag teacht.”

Anois bhí na crainn go ciúin. Ach níl an ghaoth suaimhneach.  D’fhéach Ann ar an spéir amuigh.  Rith scamaill dhorcha stoirmeacha roimh ghaoth, agus é ag brostú chun a rúin a insint.

Cibé rud a bhí ag teacht, bheadh a fhios acu go luath.

~~~

Nótaí údar: 

Bheith sé sin deireadh gearrscéalta ar feadh tamall.  Rinne mé iad a cleachtach mo chuid Gaeilge.   Ach anois, tá obair ar mo scéalta eile(faraor, as Béarla) uaim.  Agus rudaí ealaín mar sin.  Beidh mé ar ais le Troscán agus Ann, lá amháin.  

Go raibh maith agaibh.

JMC

~~~

Scéalta le Ann agus Troscán

1: Naoi Bhfocal, Ón Taobh  (Ar dtús i mBéarla)

2: Bainne na nÓg

3: Rialacha an Tí

Gearrscéal: Ann agus Troscán: Bainne na nÓg

  

Ann agus Troscán: Bainne na nÓg

by JMCressy

Seachtain an-aisteach a bhí ann le Ann. 

Ar dtús, ag a háit oibre, chuir siad córas ríomhaireachta nua.  Ansin rinne sí dearmad go raibh a uncail agus a aintín ag teacht ar cuairt inniu. Agus, bhí a lán rudaí draíochta a chonaic sí anois: sióga sa ghrian, sióga ar bhláthanna, ar na crainn, agus ceann san áiléar nach raibh ar eolas aici faoi. Troscán an t-ainm a bhí air, agus, seachas a adharca, bhí sé ina fhear óg dathúil. Cé a fhios cá fhad a bhí cónaí air sa teach céanna. Ach, cosúil leis nó nach raibh, bhí comrádaí tí aici.

Ba é Dé Sathairn inniu, an lá a raibh aintín agus uncail Ann ar cuairt.  Bhí siad an-sean agus ní raibh sláinte mhaith acu. Bhí droch-chromáin ag a haintín agus d’úsáid sí cána. Bhí emphysema ag a uncail agus bhí ocsaigin ag teastáil uaidh i ngach áit a ndeachaigh sé. Bhí súil aici nach dtarlódh aon rud aisteach agus iad ag a teach. Bhí sé ró-dhéanach a gcuairt a chur ar ceal. Mar sin, nuair a chonaic sí Troscán—sin corr-ainm! – go bhfuil ag oscailt an chuisneora agus ag ól díreach ón gcartán bainne, chaill sí a meon.

“Cad atá á dhéanamh agat?” a scairt Ann, ag rith sa chistin. Bhreathnaigh sí sa chuisneoir. Shuigh an bainne gan oscailt. Ach bhí an cartán bainne céanna i lámh Troscán.

"Cad?" a dúirt sí, mearbhall uirthi.

“Tá daoine chomh neirbhíseach ,” a dúirt Troscán. “Is liomsa é seo. Is leatsa é sin. "

"Ach níl ach cartán amháin ann."

"Tá."

Níor theastaigh míniúchán ó Ann. Draíocht na sióg a bheadh ann agus ní thuigfeadh sí tada.

"Go breá!" dúirt sí, ag breith ar an gcartán eile agus á cuir ar an mbord. “Teastaíonn seo uainn don tae.”

"Ó, sea tá do mhuintir ar cuairt!"

“Sea, agus mura miste leat, b’fhearr liom go mbeifeá áit éigin eile ar feadh tamaill.”

“Ná bí buartha,” a dúirt Troscán. "Ní fheiceann siad mé."

Sula bhféadfadh Ann sonraí a fháil, leag sé a cartán síos ar an mbord agus d’imigh sé gan tásc ná tuairisc. Bhí a fhios aici nach raibh sé imithe. De réir cosúlachta an t-áiléar a raibh cónaí air--ní raibh sé sin ann i saol an duine--ní raibh ach “twinkle away” nó caca éigin.

Is cuma léi. Rinne sí an tae, agus leathuair ina dhiaidh sin tháinig Auntie agus Uncail George.

Bhí siad ag caint sa seomra suí- bhí Auntie ag smaoineamh ar obráid athchur cromáin - nuair a chuaigh Troscán isteach, i t-léine agus i mbríste aclaíochta, ag triomú a adharca le tuáille. Chaith sé é féin i cathaoir uillinne, cos thar lámh amháin, ansin thosaigh sé ag scrollaigh trína fhón póca. Cathain a d’úsáid na sióga teileafóin phóca?

“Anois, cad fútsa?” bhí Auntie ag fiafraí. "Ar bhuail tú le fear óg deas fós?"

Rinne Troscán gáire os ard faoi seo, chomh hard sin bhí Ann cinnte go gcloisfeadh Auntie agus Uncail George. Ach níor thug siad aon chomhartha gur chuala siad nó go bhfaca siad an fear sí.

Ghabh Troscán a leithscéal. “Brón orm, ní raibh neart agam orm féin,” a dúirt sé. “Gheobhaidh mé roinnt brioscaí ...” Shiúil sé go dtí an chistin.

Rinne Ann iarracht neamhaird a dhéanamh air. "Cad mar gheall ar níos mó bainne?" a dúirt sí, doirt cuid den chartán ina dhá chupán agus agus í féin.

"An-deas. Ach ní freagra é sin ... ”

“Gabh mo leithscéal,” chuir Uncail George isteach, “Cén cineál bainne é sin? Coinníonn an cartán ag athrú datha ... ”

Ar eagla na heagla, rug Ann ar an gcartán. Branda hipster a bhí ann, le bó chartúin ag gealladh úire. Ach, bhí an bhó a bheith ag spraoi go mall sa ghort, an pictiúr ag bogadh cosúil le nuachtán i Harry Potter, agus bhí grian an chartán ag luí, ag athrú dathanna an chartán dá réir.

"Troscán!" a scairt Ann. Ansin chuimhnigh sí nach bhféadfadh aon duine eile é a fheiceáil. Bhreathnaigh a haintín agus a uncail timpeall, ag an troscáin, ag smaoineamh ar cad a bhí mícheart.

"Tá brón orm!" a dúirt Ann, ag smaoineamh go tapa. “Ba ardú céime speisialta é. Pacáistiú beoite. Ach tá sé an-daor! Cuirfidh mé ar ais sa chistin é ... "

“Tá sé ceart go leor,” a dúirt Auntie, ag seasamh suas. “Caithfimid dul ar aon nós, nó beimid déanach inár gclub beiriste.” Phóg Auntie Ann ar an leiceann. “Ach caithfidh tú insint dom faoin bhfear nua seo i do shaol…. Goitse, George.”

Faoisimh uirthi, bhreathnaigh Ann ar George ag éirí aníos agus leanann a bhean amach an doras. Go gairid thiomáin an carr ar shiúl.

Ansin bhreathnaigh Ann ar an gcartán bainne. Bhí an bhó ar an bhféar ina codladh agus réaltaí ag maisiú barr an chartáin. Ghlaoigh Troscán ón gcistin, “Cá bhfuil mo bhainne?”

“Sílim gur ól muid é ...” a dúirt Ann go neamhchinnte. Ní raibh a tae ólta aici. Ghluais an leacht timpeall amhail is dá mba ag corraigh féin. Bainne sí. In ainm Dé…

Go tobann bhí Troscán ag teannadh léi. D’athraigh fearg a chuma. Bhí sé go hálainn fós, ach lonraigh solas contúirteach óna shúile agus chaith sé scáth thar an seomra.

"Ar ól tú mo bhainne?" a scairt sé, a ghuth ag macalla cosúil le céad adharc.

 

 

Ach ní raibh eagla ar Ann.

"Ná béicíl orm i mo theach, ‘Galadriel Dorcha’!"

Ansin mhaolaigh an scáth taobh thiar de Troscán.

“Tá an-bhrón orm,” a dúirt sé. “Ach ní rud cliste é sin le déanamh. Tá rialacha ann ... ”

“Níor theastaigh uaim é a dhéanamh! Caithfidh gur rug mé ar an gceann mícheart... ”

Ansin chonaic Ann dhá rud, rudaí a rinne Auntie agus Uncail George dearmad:  cána agus umar ocsaigine.

Lig Troscán osna throm as. “Tá súil againn nach bhfaighidh mo mhuintir amach.”

 

~~~

Scéalta le Ann agus Troscán

1: Naoi Bhfocal, Ón Taobh  (Ar dtús i mBéarla)

2: Bainne na nÓg

3: Rialacha an Tí

Making Acorn Flour

 ~Tá dearcain an-úsáideach

Red Oak in glade

WARNING: In an effort to not kill my readers, I should emphasize ACORNS ARE A NUT.   If you have tree nut allergies, do not experiment with acorns before consulting with your health care professional.

Acorns can be used for many things:   fodder, ink and dye, and you can eat them.

Acorns are one of the oldest pre-agricultural human foods.  They are abundant, easy to gather (if you don't mind being cursed out by squirrels) and once oaks are established, they produce for longer that a human lives.  And Acorns are free for the taking!

But today there are only two human cultures who use acorns with even semi-regularity: American First Nations and Koreans.  By the time of recorded history in Europe, acorns were considered famine food, what people ate when they were desperate.  One wonders how good starving Europeans could have been at processing; it's unlikely the skills to make acorns palatable survived with such infrequent use.   Despite the  abundance of acorns and, currently, free cost, there are some drawbacks for commercial use:

- An oak tree takes about 20-40  years before producing acorns.   If you're an long lived species, like elves, no problem.    But since this the average time humans take to mature to adulthood, it's not ideal for starting a staple crop.

- Oaks do not produce reliably every year.  Many trees alternate mast years, that is, one year they dump acorns so thickly you're still walking on them in the winter, and the next, there's hardly any.    Though in my personal experience it's not that extreme: just a lot less acorns in the off year, but still enough. While one tree is under producing, another, across the stream is dropping acorns like bombs.  So mast years appear to be dependent on water, weather and other environmental factors.

- Acorns require leaching to remove tannins which, in large quantities, are toxic to humans. And believe me, acorns have a lot of tannins. Bite into one and it will dry your mouth out and you won't be able to swallow it. Traditionally leaching was done in baskets in streams, or buried in soil.  Some Peoples ground and then leached them, pouring water through the meal.  Grinding first and leaching can be faster, as can using hot water.  But nutrients are lost, and, in the case of hot water, leaching it can go horribly wrong and fix the tannins in the acorns permanently, making them inedible.  

- Oak trees were valued more for building and firewood by colonial cultures, reducing the amount of oaks producing acorns for peoples still eating them. I could see how this turned into a downward spiral and people turned to quicker growing crops.  

I've been gathering and processing acorns for almost 4 years, after first researching the material of people rediscovering this staple. For those who want to try their hand at making and using acorns for food, this is how I do it:

1. Gather acorns.  That's obvious, but you need to identify oaks.  If there are no oaks on your property, best bets are public parks or right of way.  Legally you can gather from pavements besides people's houses and property, but please ask for permission before going onto private property.  Be polite and respectful.

 

Identifying oaks: The two main types of oaks are white and red.   White oaks have the round lobbed leaves.  Red oaks are pointed.  There are many more sub species and oaks hybridized so easily even experts can have trouble telling them apart.  But, as far as I know, all acorns are edible.

Much is made of White Oaks, which are the Holy Grail of foragers. Allegedly their acorns need no leaching.  But the best I've found are some that I could eat raw, if I had to, but were far from pleasant.  Research that suggests humans vary in their ability to taste tannins in acorns.  Unfortunately, this does not mean these acorns are less toxic to the individuals.  According to this document, ALL ACORNS MUST BE LEACHED.  In addition to removing tannins, which not only taste bad but interfere with nutrition, acorns need their phytic acid removed or neutralized(more in notes at bottom of page). 

2020 Harvest

 

I'm so glad I always leach any acorns I gather.    

 

 

2. Shelling/Hulling:

Once I gather the acorns, I shell them.  Some people use a rock or hammer.  Resourceful folks have made special mills to hull in mass.  Good on them!   I use a nutcracker and a bowl, usually while I'm watching a program.  

3. Leaching:

All acorns need to be leached.  Once I  shell the acorns, I put them into a sturdy plastic container, fill it with water and close the lid.  If the container is to be outside, a lid is ideal because squirrels WILL steal them.  Sometimes when I have too many, I put them in buckets and fill them with a lot of water which is a deterrent.  But as they acorns leach, that is get sweeter, the squirrels get bolder.  One has to watch them carefully.

Every day I pour the water off, and fill it again.  It's not the most efficient leaching method, but without a stream or river, it gets the job done.  The leaching process on average takes anywhere from a couple weeks to a month.I will know it's finished when the acorns are completely saturated AND when I break one apart and nibble on it it isn't dry and bitter.  Personally I like a little nutty bite to the flavor. And I worry if I leach them bland, I'm losing nutrients.  But they should not dry the mouth out.

4. Drying:

I dry before grinding because I find the acorns develop a lovely nutty smell that way.  But either will work.    For ease of grinding, I only half dry them.  Ideally this takes a week.  If it's taking longer, check the humidity and watch for mold.

 

5. Grinding:

 Once they're half dry--dry on the outside, firm, but still have moister if squeezed-- I roughly chop them in about 1/4 inch pieces, then lay them out on a mesh to dry some more. A couple days to a week later they should be ready to be ground down to meal.

Note:  I dry in stages for two reasons: to preserve flavor and to avoid grinding a rock hard acorn nut which takes...for...ever.

 

6. Final grinding:  The dry meal should be ground as fine as the appliance can get on the first pass.

Once a batch is all ground, I sift it and grind it again, as fine as possible.  

 

 

Now the flour is finished.  It is best stored in the refrigerator in an airtight container.  

Yield: A paper grocery bag filled with acorns usually yields about 8 cups of flour after about a month of work.  

 

Flour properties: 

The best flour I've made is a light buff or tan color and has a rich nutty flavor.  Darker flour means its lower in fat or has dried out a bit more than ideal at some point in processing, but is still usable.  Some insist white or nearly white flour is possible...and fair play to them!   Keep chasing those unicorns!

I use acorn flour like corn meal, 1-to-1 replacement in cornbread.   

Acorn flour has no  gluten, so it must be mixed with other flours if yeast is the leavening.  It is reasonably responsive to soda leavening, though personally I find I must use eggs for the best results.  And mixing in other flour will make a finer texture.  For pancakes, I use a ratio of 2/3 acorn flour to 1/3 of spelt or barley or oat flour.

After baking, it is much darker than one expects.  Pancakes are lighter.  Left over acorn bread can be used for stuffing or breadcrumbs. 

Final note:  I have had no problems digesting acorns.  But I have noticed a tendency for "firmness" in the bowels.  It makes me drink water regularly, like I should be doing anyway.  But this makes me think people who might have kidney trouble should do some research and go cautiously forward.   

New foods can be exciting but health comes first.

Final notes:

Making acorn flour is a lot of work.  But much of that work is passive: leaching acorns sitting in water while I do something else. And if a community was involved, at least the gathering would go much faster.  I would far prefer to tend an oak orchard than plough a field for my staples, and then cut, church, thresh, etc, etc.  Smart people looking at feeding themselves on a small scale stay away from depending on wheat and corn.  Growing grains efficiently requires community effort even on the small scale.  A family or small groups should be relying on beans, peas and other pulses, and possibly potatoes.  And maybe look to the trees...

Humans could resolve two serious issues at once by supporting more tree crops for food production: our growing food insecurity and environmental degradation.  Chestnut, Oak, Beech, and of course the standard nut trees have fed cultures for aeons.  There is the problem of nut allergies. But for those who can eat nuts it would help quite a bit to relieve the burden. And they're tasty too!

Trees support the soil, clean the air and give us food.  The trees could save us all... if we let them.

Further reading:

 BULLETIN OF PRIMITIVE TECHNOLOGY SPRING 2014: 

No. 4774Do Sweet Acorns Still Need To Be Leached?

By Arthur Haines, Delta Institute of Natural History

 

https://static1.squarespace.com/static/52765bc6e4b094d525e06bad/t/5810d5d0f7e0abd1f4bd4e7d/1477498321694/Arthur+Haines%2C+Do+Sweet+Acorns+Still+Need+To+Be+Leached.pdf

Excellent information and history.  Also has an alarming detail about phytic acid in other foods:

 

 Phytic acid is a storage form of phosphorous in seeds
(phosphorous is an important mineral for germinating
plants). Phytic acid, which is found in acorns and other
nuts, grains, legumes, and achenes, is another antinu-
trient that is capable of chelating with dietary minerals.
Therefore, phytic acid, like tannins, makes minerals
unavailable to the body (and those mineral pass through
the system without being absorbed). Additionally, phytic
acid can interfere with enzymes we need to digest our
food, such as amylase (for carbohydrates), pepsin (for 

proteins), and trypsin (also for proteins). Therefore, it is
important to limit our intake of phytic acid so that we do
not experience mineral deficiencies and inhibit digestion
of food. It is worth noting that most foods commonly eaten
in the United States today that contain phytic acid have
not been prepared in a way to minimize the levels of this
antinutrient.

That can't be good...

Gearrscéal: Naoi Bhfocal, Ón Taobh

 

Naoi Bhfocal, Ón Taobh

Nine Words Sideways

(scéal i mBéarla agus i nGaeilge)

  

Ann lived alone. Usually she didn’t mind, but she missed her friends, most who had moved away after school. She had very little in common with her coworkers. Her job was a dull, but it paid well so she was disinclined to leave. The pay also allowed her to indulged her interests, particularly books, of which she collected many. Among books on sailing, gardening and history, she had kept books from her childhood. One in particular was her favorite, a book on fairy tales. She’d read and reread it so many times she knew it by heart.

But a part eluded Ann, an inscription in the front, printed in an old script. It read:

Say this with your eyes shut

Motuigim bolah an Eireannaig binn breugaig faoi m’foidin dutaig

And you will see what you will see.

Now and then over the years Ann would return to it, searching for clues, first at the library, then online. She learned it was in Irish. One forum dedicated to Irish language had decoded the letters into something slightly more readable. But it took Ann the better part of an afternoon of research to get an approximation of what it might mean and still she wasn’t sure. “Feeling the soul of Ireland” ? It was garbled through culture and time. As for how to say it, no one really knew.

A curiosity had taken root. Ann didn’t know why. She wasn’t Irish(that she knew of). But a desire to solve this one mystery from her childhood drove her on. She found a transliteration into modern Irish. She muttered this to herself as she read it, as best she could, and a something inside her changed.

Work was the same, but more dull. Ann thought more of taking a course and changing professions. But the words were ever in her mind. She muttered them in the morning after rising, and in bed at night. Even on the bus to and from work. With every thought, the words sank deeper into her, pressing their form on her soul, morning, noon and night.

Like the hacker tool ‘brute force’, Ann seemed to be trying every combination until one worked. There is a limited number of ways to pronounce these nine words, so it was just a matter of time before she said it right.

It happened one morning while she was brushing her teeth. The sounds she’d struggled with, were, if not perfect, intelligible to the people of the time who wrote it down. And, in that moment, she squinted enough that her eyes were, for the most part, shut.

Something inside Ann moved again. She felt the light change. She blinked.

And ansin....feiceann Ann timpeall. 

Taitníonn an ghrian tríot an fhuinneog. Bhí scamaill beacha os cionn an rósóg in airde taobh amuigh. Ach, bhí rud eile ar na rósanna: léimeann na créatúir bídeacha óir le sciatháin ó gach peiteal sa ghrian. Sióga óir a bhí iontu.

Dhún Ann a súile. B'fhéidir, bhí sí fós ina codladh, ag brionglóid. D’oscail sí a súile. Taitníonn solas na gréine isteach sa seomra folctha anois. Tháinig cúig sióga óir leis, ag damhsa ar an doirteal. Bhí siad go hálainn, ach bhí sí buartha go raibh sí as a meabhair. Chuala sí canadh freisin: “Blah, blah, blah”. Tháinig se seo as na sióga óir nuair a bhí siad ag damhsa. Tharraing Una anuas na dallóga, ag coinnigh an solas amach. D'imigh na sióga.

Chan siad taobh amuigh fós. B'fhéidir, dá ndéanfadh Ann neamhaird orthu, rachaidh siad imigh. Bheadh sí an-mhall. Chaith sí uisce ar a aghaidh. Mar a thriomaigh sí í féin, bhuail duine éigin ar an doras seomra folctha.

Stán Ann ar an doras, le huamhan. Bhí sí ina cónaí sa teach léi féin. An buirgléir a bhí ann? Cén cineál cnag buirgléir chun an seomra folctha a úsáid?

“Brón orm,” a dúirt guth, “An mbeidh tú i bhfad?”

Go tobann d’fhág an eagla í. Rug Ann ar na pionsúirín géar (ar eagla na heagla) agus tharraing sí an doras a oscailt.

Sheas fear óg tanaí ard os a comhair agus an-chrosta. Chaith sé jíons teilgthe agus t-léine a léigh, “Bua T-nOg”. Bhí súile glasa aige agus gruaig fhada dhubh air. Bhí dhá adharc gabhair ar a cheann aige freisin, agus bhí scairf a d’athraigh dath aige. Ar dtús bhí sé glas, ansin ór. Ansin bhí éisc ag snámh air, amhail is gur teilifís a bhí ann.

“Ní tusa an t-aon duine atá ina chónaí anseo, tá a fhios agat,” a dúirt an fear.

Thit na pionsúirín as a lámh.

Chrom an fear, thóg sé iad den urlár, agus thug sé ar ais do Ann. Shnámh na éisc ar a scairf go dtí na foircinn, ag beathú amhail is dá mbeidís ar bhun locha.

“Anois, mura miste leat ...” a dúirt sé, ag brú anuas uirthi agus ag dúnadh an dorais.

Níor chreid Ann é. Mura raibh a meabhair caillte aici, geas a bhí sna naoi bhfocal. “To see what you will see”. Shíl sí go tapa: an féidir léi é a aisiompú?

Rith Ann go dtí a seomra leapa. B’fhéidir go ndúirt an leabhar rud éigin níos mó. Ach bhí an leathanach leis an inscríbhinn bán.

Bhí sé mar an gcéanna lena leabhar nótaí. Bhí gach leathanach leis na naoi bhfocal bán. Chuardaigh Ann a fón. Ní raibh na focail ina stair chuardaigh. Fuair sí an fóram céanna. Ach bhí an snáithe imithe. Cibé draíocht a thoghairm, bhain sí iad ó gach cartlann, téacs nó digiteach.

“Nah, níl ach cinn a d’úsáid tú,” a dúirt an fear. Bhí sé ina sheasamh sa doras, ag triomú a adharca le tuáille. “Níl sé uait níos mó.”

“Cad é?” dúirt Ann.

“Breathnaigh!” a dúirt sé , dhírigh sé ar amach an fhuinneog. “Is breá leis na sióga gréine na bláthanna.”

“Bláthanna?” macalla Ann, ag breathnú taobh amuigh. Gan dabht, rince na créatúir sióg ar na rósanna, na lus móra agus fiú an féar.

“Nach gcloiseann tú iad? ‘Bláth, bláth, bláth’. Sióga gréine. Leanann beacha iad.”

“Ar ndóigh déanann siad,” a dúirt sí, “Ceist amháin.”

“Cinnte.”

“Cé sa diabhal atá tú agus cén fáth a bhfuil tú i mo theach?”

“Mise Troscán. Tá mé i mo chónaí san áiléar.”

“Níl áiléar agam!”

“Ní raibh tú in ann a fheiceáil roimhe. Tá sé ón taobh.”

“Ón taobh?”

“Le domhan an duine. Bhíomar anseo i gcónaí. Anois is féidir leat a fheiceáil. Nach é sin a bhí uait? ”

 

 

JMCressy©2021

 

Notes:

 

Bhí mé ag triail an scéal seo a chríochnú do “Splonk” ag deireadh mhí Feabhra. Bhí 1,700 focal aige agus teastaíonn níos lú ná 500. Tar éis sé uair, tá 1000 focal aige. Is gearrscaeal é, ach níl sé an-ghearr. Mar sin, chuir mé é ar mo bhlag. Bhí sé cleachtach maith agus is é an chéad scéal a scríobh mé le Gaeilge ann.

Má rinne mé botún… agus rinne mé go cinnte...abair libh.

This is part of a series of Modern Fairy Tales I work on in between other projects.

Inspiration for this particular tale goes to book with the real inscription, in “Celtic Fairy Tales” , collected by Joseph Jacobs and published by John Nutt in 1892. Sadly, that page in my copy isn’t blank.

 

 ~~~

Scéalta le Ann agus Troscán

1: Naoi Bhfocal, Ón Taobh  (Ar dtús i mBéarla)

2: Bainne na nÓg

3: Rialacha an Tí

 

 

 

 

Nollaig Shona Daoibh!

Tá mé an-mhall an bliain seo....

pioc cárta ... aon chárta

Christmas cards finally sent...better late than never!

 

 

Book of Kells: Finished, Submitted

 At long last, it's done.

But I cannot publish the finished art because of the rules of the contest. I can publish the  low resolution color test sheet, with all its mistakes and scribbles:

What I learned: those monks are metal. Even limiting myself to natural materials and the morning light, I still had the advantage of central heating and food security.  And modern conveniences.  If poor Brother Cadfael  wanted a hot cup of coffee, he had to wait for the Renaissance.  Tea wasn't much better.  Whatever hot drink...herbal tea, beer, wine...it would have been a hassle to heat it up.  There was no microwave in the scriptorum!  

While I succeeded in creating colors from all natural sources ( to which some pedant will say: "Actually, petroleum is a natural source".  Dun do bheal!), I completely failed at even coming close to a majority of the original pigments.  Historical pigments used:

Gall Ink

Indigo 

And that's it.

Now if I was to expand that to pigments documented to be used in the Middle Ages, we can add:

Iris Green

Zinc

Any lake puts us in the Renaissance.  Sticking to known medieval practices, the best I could say is 4.  But all natural sourced... that is, what a monk or medieval artist could make with the materials and technology of the time.

Here's the color sheet with source pigments labeled:

As for the contest, feicfimid.

.

Book of Kells Project: Border, Washes and Finishing Touches

After all the main elements were finished, some details required creatively mixing color.   

Orange/Oráiste

This color is conceptually a modern invention.  It isn't that the ancient Irish didn't see orange.  Linguistically they just considered it a type of dark yellow. There's some very interesting documentation about how different languages develop words for colors depending on their lifestyles, the cultural importance of the color and it frequency or rarity.

Even in English the word for "orange" is the same as the non-native fruit, implying in the original Anglo-Saxon we also thought of "orange" as a kind of yellow or gold.  The point being I needed ORANGE for a design element. And so I did it the typical way and mixed  red and yellow, or rather, some madder lake and tansy lake.  

 

It was a reasonable result, pretty if not authentic.

Around this time I also mixed up the mullien lake, made without chalk.  I wanted a  less opaque yellow for some details.

Pink/Bándearg:

I actually had some pink madder lake I could have ground up.  But the zinc and madder lake were still available and I was tired out with grinding.  So I made a mix with a little water to wash and detail a background.

Grape Hyacinth and Bluebells inks:

I did not freeze these like I did with the Iris Green. That was a mistake.  I did add alcohol, thinking that would be enough to preserve them.  While they did not mold, or otherwise physically degrade, their colors suffered.  The grape hyacinth was no longer purple or even lavender, but a weak yellowish green. Ditto for the Bluebell Ink, that also lost it's magical two tone quality.

Nonetheless, these are colors useful to tint backgrounds. See, as the art was finishing, I was noticing how very BRIGHT the background was compared to the art in the Book of Kells.  This is down to using vellum and the age of the vellum.  Considering the quality of the lighting at the time, the monks would probably have preferred a bright white background if they could get it.  But stylistically, it was too much so I was looking for something to dim it, just slightly.  These inks served well.

There was also mixing and blending for small details, like madder lake and zinc to make a silvery white for the moon.

"Crottle:

This lichen ink was also a useful background wash, mainly for the snakes.  Of all the washes it came the closest to imitating old vellum.  Maybe I should have used it from the beginning.