The Inevitable Piping Poem

Well, I guess waiting until day 29 to finally succumb to a piping poem, is really not too bad at all. The prompt was "metric" and the impression I got from the explanation is that anything goes, so long as it address the concept of meter in some way. So I, of course, fell off the bandwagon, and wrote about piping. We all knew it was coming:

Learning the Pipes

To be a piper you must have

The Tunes by heart, and love them well;

Must wear them, as you wear a poem,

With countless tellings, line by line.

And more than music: you must love

Their bones and shaping. You must dwell

Within the heart beat of their form,

Where song and meter intertwine.

Until you speak the dialect,

Of cuts and gracings, and can tell

The tale written in the notes,

And march their measure, line by line.

A Harvest of Days

Well, for all of you who find my calamity stories so funny: I am sorry. Today, you do not get a funny story. My car, I am happy to report is still running. The jury is still out as to whether it will truly "run forever" as the English mechanic avers, but it has run for a whole week without the need of boiling water or jiggling wires. And I have taken it off the hill thrice. So perhaps, it shall whinny with us for some months longer.

At present, I am sleepy, so if there are any glaring errors is spelling, grammar, or punctuation in this post, you will know it is because I have scarcely been to bed in 2 days. It is not because I am ailing - oh no, not at all! Quite the contrary. I have not had so splendid a set of days in some time. The dratted White Dog of Life has been distracted for the time being, and I find that I can stand up in the puddle of my existence without being bowled over. The World Pipe Band Championships took place on Friday and Saturday, and as usually, there was a live stream of the proceedings, for those who wanted to observe the event in real time. I, obviously, was amongst that number, so I dragged myself out of bed at 2 ack emma, so that I might have the pleasure of gluing myself to a computer screen for the next 7 hours, and listening to band after band play the most astonishing music. 

Here is quite a low-quality picture of the blogger, taken
with my pathetic wee phone camera. It is about 3 am,
and I am drinking coffee from an appropriate vessels, whilst
wearing my Inverary and District Pipe Band shirt.

Last year's competitions were quite exceptional, and there were a few sets that were mile-markers. This year... Oh, this year! The piping was transcendent. By the time a mere handful of bands had played, the bar had been set so high that you began to feel as if this could not possibly be mortal men, standing there in a circle on Glasgow Green. Perhaps the Fair Folk had come out of the Hollow Hills and were enchanting us all with fairy music.... Do not mock. At 3 in the morning it seemed a very real explanation for the quality of music we were being treated too. I have no idea how the judges were able to produce a winner, the puir men, nor did I envy them the task. Suffice it to say, the title of Champion, after dwelling with Field Marshall Montgomery these last three years, has gone back to Scotland, With Shotts and Dykehead taking the honours, and my two favourite bands, St. Lawrence O'Toole and Inverary and District, coming in 2nd and 3rd, with only a point between them. I have had as near to my fill of piping as I have ever had, and the world is Good.

Here the blogger, having been out of her bed for 5 hours,
is treating herself to a pre-breakfast glass of Laphroaig,
whilst cheering on her favourite bands

Add to that, the unexpected treat of having Mass on the Feast of Our Lady in Harvest (otherwise know as the feast of the Assumption) and a splendid dinner of barbecued corned beef, with potatoes and carrots (also prepared on the grill as we DO NOT turn on the indoor cooking equipment in this weather) not to mention the luxury of two extra days off from work, and you have yourself one well contented blogger. If only every weekend could be like this!

I have also been attempting to apply myself to my arts lately. (My, aren't we preening!) I have produced a few passible little miniatures over the last month or so:

There us this beehive:

And this curious little medieval dragon and border:

There is this painting. There is a marshy bit of meadow, a couple miles from my home, where a little river comes out to the lake. We've been in a drought for long enough, that the grass comes down nearly to the lake in a wide swath of marsh grass and wild flowers. I like to walk down there if it is cool enough in the evening, and watch the sunset. I came home from one such jaunt and made a paint sketch of it - free hand. No preliminary drawing, just wet washes laid down quickly on top of each other, and a bit of drier painting on top for detail:

And lastly, there is this ladybird beetle - otherwise known as a ladybug in the US - painted up yesterday, for the feast of the Assumption, this particular insect being named for Our Lady:

And lastly, I have been trying to write poetry. I am not entirely sure why I am struggling so much with it. I have attempted four poems in the last month, and none of them have made it through the creative process. I still think the ideas behind them are quite good. I just can't get them out on to paper. This one came to me a couple days ago. The weather has been a bit warm of late, and the summer sun here at nearly 6,500 feet, is piercing, but the nights are getting the least bit cooler, and there is a bit of autumn in the wind. So I wrote this:

Turning From the Sun

The air lies heavy still, with heat

And still too fiercely burns the sun -

Too bright the blue, unclouded sky,

Too hard the earth, for want of rain.

But winds have come now, edged and sweet,

And copper needles, slanting down,

A chill curls where deep shadows lie,

And clouds give hope of green again.

Maybe we will finally have a proper winter here on the West Coast, and the drought will ease, if not leave entirely. I miss snow in winter, and green growing things in summer. 

International Bagpipe Day

Yep. That is today. It has taken place the last several years, but I am never quite sure what it is, because googling "International Bagpipe Day" generally brings up websites concerning events from previous years - nice, if you are in the know, and were at one such celebration, but somewhat frustrating for those of us who genuinely curious about the thing. But, I am a piper, and I should not let such a celebration go by without some sort of mention, now, should I? So here you go - pipers..... being pipers....I have mentioned before that pipers are an odd lot of people, haven't I? 

There is, of course, the Unipiper. I'm willing to bet you've never been confronted with something like this when you are taking a casual stroll, now have you?

There is this piper, whose dog sings along with him. (Dogs do that. Sam-the-Dog makes and incredibly deep solemn ooooooooooooooo when I play. He sounds mournful, but his tail wags the whole time, so I have no idea if he is happy about it or not.)

And then, there is the piper who gives lie to the accepted belief that one cannot play bagpipes and sing at the same time:

(For the first minute he is just using the drones to accompany his singing. You can listen to that if you want, but if you skip about a minute into it, he plays and sings.)

Here is something a little different - a tune called Corryvreckan by William Jackson. It is the first tune I can ever remember hearing that integrated pipes into a band this way. I was quite obsessed with it for a while, and I still think it is a braw fine tune:

I Got A Kiss o' the King's Hand....

Today is the feast day of Christ the King. It is a fairly new feast within the liturgical calender, having been instituted in 1925, but Jesus Christ has been honoured as King by all Christians since the very earliest days of the Church. It is, I think, a particularly beautiful and appropriate feast for our times, when temporal rulers fall so short of the standard. It is good to remember that we serve a King, Who genuinely loves and cares for His people. Here is an old picture I came up with a few years back to mark the day:

The title of the post comes from an old piobaireachd, A Kiss of the King's Hand. I had originally intended to post something particular to the day, but most of the hymns I came across featured organs and enthusiastic congregational singing. Now, mind you, when you hear the organ live, and you are part of the enthusiastic congregation, that is a grand sound indeed. However, youtube videos of the same tend to lack a certain something, so I am posting the piobaireachd instead.

The story behind the tune, is that a piper in the army or Charles II played for the king, who was so pleased with the music, that he commended the piper, and allowed him to kiss his hand. The piper wrote this tune to commemorate the event. Here are the words that go to it - and this is what always pops into my head each Sunday after Holy Communion:

Thuair mi Pòg s’ Pòg s’ Pòg  ga’n d’thuair mi Pòg o’ Laimh an Righ…  cha’d chur seid a n Croicion Caorach a thuair an turram a thuair mi.

I have had a kiss, a kiss, a kiss, I have had a kiss of the king’s hand:--  No one who blew in a sheep’s skin,  Has received such honour as I have

As a side note: I am not sure how widely spread the belief was, but there was a period, at least, in Scotland, when it was believed that the hands of the King were blessed, since they ruled with authority coming from God. Amongst other things, it was believed that the hands of the King were the hands of a healer. Readers of The Lord of the Rings will appreciate the historical connection.

So, this weekend just past, was the weekend World Pipe Band Championships in Glasgow. This is an annual event, in which hundreds of pipe bands from all over, get together and compete, including a large percentage of the very best bands in the world. Generally, this is a one day event - Saturday - but this year, it went over two days, which was rather splendid for those of us who get in to that sort of thing.

For a number of years now, the Grade 1 competitions have been streamed live, and for a number of years, I have made a point of catching at least a part of the competitions. The problem with watching a competition in Scotland in real time in California, is the 8 hour time difference, which means pulling one's self out of bed at around 3 a.m. to be there at the start. Since my regular work schedule includes Saturday, it also means that I usually have to leave before the end. This year, however, I decided that I was going to be completely indulgent. I took a day off from work, kicked my room-mate sister out of the house, and spent two days absolutely wallowing in some of the finest piping I have ever heard - and to make it particularly celebratory, I got into the second tin of haggis in my pantry (yes... there are a plurality of haggis tins in my domicile. You never know when you are going to want a Scottish party.) and took it with the customary neeps, of which I have become particularly fond, and the last wee bit of the Glenfiddich which I had been saving for just such an occasion.

It was an excellent competition. The weather on both days was terrible for this sort of thing, ranging from furious downpours, to wild wind, to bright sunshine. The pipes, with the multiple reeds, react to just about ever change in atmosphere, so that tuning can be rather tricky in those sorts of conditions. For all that, the bands held themselves together with admirable steadiness. The sound was consistently fine, the level of performance so good as to make the listener (in person of myself) quite heady with delight. I quite rapidly stopped trying to rate the bands as they played, and just gave myself over to complete enjoyment of the music. There was one medley, however, that stuck out in particular for me, the one that Inverary and District Pipe Band played on Day 2 of competitions. They had impressed me a bit over the whole weekend, because they are a younger pipe band (both in the sense that there are a lot of young pipers in it, and that the band itself hasn't been around all that long.) but they held their own during the entire competition. And they are a particularly musical band. Medleys are fun to listen too, because they are sort of show-case arrangements; varying time signatures, lots of different tunes, and always, a slow air. It is the slow air part of IDPB's arrangement that got me in particular. They absolutely nailed it, and it was stunning. The whole weekend was worth the bother of getting up so unspeakably early. (The Worlds are one of a tiny handful of things that will actually induce me out of my bed before the accustomed hour.)  And if there is a faint, lingering feeling of sleepiness, it is of no consequence whatsoever... But if I had to choose a highlight It was IDPB. (And seeing one of the instructors from a Piping School I attended, judging the competitions.)

And here, for your enjoyment,  is a video of that medley from a competition earlier in the year:

Memorial Day

Memorial Day is rather a big deal for me. That is partly because I am quite a traditionalist and a proper observance of Memorial Day is rich in solemnity and ceremony, which I find both beautiful and satisfying. It is partly because there is enough history associated with the day, to delight the amateur historian in me. It is partly because I consider myself something of a soldier as well - albeit, a Soldier of Christ, so I find a great deal of inspiration in a day dedicated to honouring courage and sacrifice. But it is mostly because my little band has played for the Memorial Day service here in town, for as long as we have been a band. We get ourselves all brawly kilted out, with shined-up brogues, and (since Memorial Day weekend tends to be the last hurrah of winter here) our green military sweaters. We look very sharp and fine, since my pipey is a former Marine and has definite views on how to conduct one's self at formal occasions like this. It is grand, and I love being a part of the ceremony. It is, hands-down, my favourite gig all year. 

Normally, I would post a video of a bugler playing Taps or The Last Post or something along those lines, to mark Memorial Day. But Mark Knopfler wrote a really great song called Piper to the End which seems very suitable, so I am post that instead.

Extreme Piping

When I first started playing the pipes years ago, my instructor - a former Marine and a history buff - drilled into me an important piece of piping etiquette. Once one has commenced a tune, one does not stop piping until said tune is completed. Period. No matter what. There is NO excuse for not finishing the tune, unless you are killed in action. But you have to be killed outright. If you are wounded, you had better pull yourself together and finish the tune. One of my sisters was privilege to hear the never stop piping speech, and for a while afterwards - thanks in no small part to encouragement from the instructor - it was a favourite past time of various family member to behave like lunatic whilst I was at practice, in an effort to make me laugh, and stop playing. The net result of this is that I am quite proficient at ignoring distractions during my practice, which is a good thing, as people can behave very oddly when they encounter a piper unexpectedly.

This picture, however, takes the idea of extreme piping to a whole new level:

That is a picture of Bulgarian men, celebrating the Feast of the Epiphany in the Tundzha River. CNN has a photo gallery of Epiphany celebrations from around the world, and this is only one of the many odd pictures to be featured there. According to the caption, the pipers (and the drummer too, for that matter) are participating in a dance. Why? I do not know, but I rather think striding into icy cold water and piping might be even more macho that the Polar Plunge.

God Send Us a Merry New Year, Part 2

New Year's Eve was fun. I spent it with my family. My sisters elected to stay up to see the New Year in with me. We watched White Collar for most of the evening, and when the midnight hour approached, I got out my pipes, and went out into the cold, cold night to play a few tunes:

I played a few Christmas tunes, and then a few Scottish marches, and then, of course, Auld Lang Syne. There was a very odd, outdoor (in spite of nearly 3 feet of snow on the ground) electric music festival going on in town over the weekend, and apparently, they had fireworks, for no sooner had I played the first few notes of Auld Lang Syne then there was a great deal of cheering away off in the distance, and the western sky burst into a glorious display of fireworks. It wasn't quite Edinburgh Castle, but it was pretty exciting nonetheless.

My sister, Teresa, had printed out a large 2012 on a sheet of paper, so once I had piped as long as the cold weather, and consideration for the neighbors would permit, I burned it with great satisfaction. Good riddance to 2012, I say!

And there goes the last of it!

Then we all had a bit of whisky out of the good crystal, so that we could give each other toasts, and welcome 2013 in proper style:

We stayed up far too late enjoying ourselves immensely. It was really quite grand. Here's to the New Year!

God Send Us a Merry New Year

The old year now away is fled,

The new year it is entered;

Then let us all our sins down tread,

And joyfully all appear.

Let's merry be this holiday,

And let us run with sport and play,

Hang sorrow, let's cast care away -

God send us a merry new year!
From Carol for New Year's Day,

And that, dear friends, perfectly sums up my attitude at present. I welcomed in 2012 with enthusiasm and misplaced optimism, and what I got was a year full of struggle  and disappointment:

I have been looking forward to the new year for months now, and tonight, I intend to stay up til midnight, as I usually do, only I will not so much be welcoming in the year 2013, but ensuring that 2012 is properly dead and buried - ideally, burning it effigy, and burying its ashes at a cross roads with a stake through what is left of its heart. In reality, I shall probably just go outside at midnight, play a few pipe tunes, including Auld Lang Syne and, upon coming in again, partake of a bit of whisky, which is all very right and proper behaviour for one conducting a wake. After that, I intend to shake the dust of 2012 off my feet, and set my face bravely to the new year. Nothing like a bit of pipe music to help with that:

PS. You'd be surprised how hard it can be to find a non-cheesy version of this tune to post. My long-suffering sister put up with 2 hours of me listening to the first few measures of various clips, only to have me say, "Good heavens, NO!!!"  and go back to searching. She also put up with me dissolving into hysterical laughter over some of the more truly awful covers of it that I came across.

All Hail November

Eeeeek!!!! I am missing it! We are smack dab in the middle of Sherlock Holmes Weekend! Who knew, eh? According to Brownielock's handy site, Sherlock Holmes Weekend this year, runs from November 2nd to November 4th. I find this very exciting. I must take time out of my busy life life and read a Sherlock Holmes mystery. Or watch Basil Rathbone portray the famous detective. Or maybe even watch the second season of Sherlock. Oh, the possibilities!

November is also National Novel Writing Month, and I am writing a novel. Well, I am sort of writing a novel. I started bravely, and for one day, all was good. Then I had a devastating attack of writers' block, and ended up tossing out all of the work from the first day, and starting over from scratch. So now I am behind and having to write madly to get myself back on track for finishing by the end of November. At present, by handy word counter is informing me that I shall not finish until January. This is alarming. I need to get a move on.

However, before I go, Bella tagged me a post or two ago, and I have not had a chance to respond to her properly. Since I do not know when I am going to be able to write a decent post again, I am going to take care of the tag right now. Here we go:

Eleven Random Facts:

1.) According to the Urban Dictionary, the word twee has three meanings:

       1.) Something sweet, almost to the point of being sickeningly so.

      2.) To be obnoxiously sweet or quaint.

     3.) The sound a sparrow makes the moment it dies.

The first two definitions are obviously connected, but I have no idea where the last one came from. I now want desperately to write a sparrow's death scene into a story, so that I have a chance of using that word.

2.) I am wildly fond of Mumford and Sons' new CD.

3.) I am also wildly fond of piobaireachd.

4.) I can pronounce the word piobaireachd.

5.) I can sing the Cinderelly song the mice sing in Disney's Cinderella... and sound just like the mice do.

6.) Water does not boil at 212 degrees Fahrenheit if you live it 6000 feet. It boils at 201 degrees. So there.

7.) The United States Marine Corps has its own official tartan and pipe band.

8.) There was a piper at the battle of the Alamo.

9.) In the first draft of the Fellowship of the Ring, Strider was not a Ranger. He was a hobbit named Trotters.

10.) There is no good response when a homeless man informs you that he is going down to the lake to get a free manicure.

11.) I really must get back to my novel.

And Now For Bella's Questions:

1.) Do you like musicals?

I like Gilbert and Sullivan.

2.)What is your favourite musical?

The Pirates of Penzance.

3.) If you could step into a book for a single day, which one would it be?

It is a toss up. The Lord of the Rings is the one that comes to mind first. However, I would dearly love to be on the run with Alan Breck Stewart, so Kidnapped is giving that a run for its money.

4.)Do you know what a "Silver Tongue" is?

Here's one:

5.) How does this quote end? "There is evil there...."

6.)Do you like having your picture taken?
No. Nor do I like taking pictures.

7.) Do you like cold or warm weather better.
 Cold weather. Bring on the cardigans and kilted skirts!

8.)What is your favourite colour?
 Grey

9.) Do you know how a war can be passed down for generations but only last 7 days?
 Um... does this have anything to do with the Campbells and the MacDonalds?

10.)Who are three of your favourite authors?
G. K. Chesterton, Patricia McKillip, Robert Louis Stevenson, but not in that order.

11.) Do you know what a jean jumper is?
I do my best not to.

I Emerge

My devoted followers - here meaning a pair of young sisters - are beginning to grumble about the lack of attention with which I am treating this blog. I have been feeling quite guilty about it for a while, and I apologise. What can I say? It has been One of Those Years. When 2012 came in, I stayed up til midnight, and greeted it with open arms and whisky, and in return, it has given me a good deal of bother. When January 1st comes round again, I shall wait for the stroke of midnight, not so much to welcome in the year 2013, but to be sure that 2012 is properly dead and buried.

In order to keep this blog from atrophying entirely, I am posting a little sketch I did recently, when I found myself unexpectedly at loose ends, and with very little at hand for helping to pass the time. I did what I generally do when I discover myself in such straights, and began doodling. The doodle turned out rather better than I expected, especially in view of the fact that the #2 pencil I was using was badly in need of sharpening. I still had some time to kill, so I cast about for some means of colouring the sketch. I had nothing in the line of art supplies handy, and so made do with an elderly red, fine point Sharpie; a green, felt-tip pen which was also getting on in years; a pen which laid down a very fine, albeit rather watery blue line in ink which the pen itself proudly informed me was "super ink" and good for signing documents; and a black gel pen. The result is as below - a piper. What else would I be drawing?

D-Day

Today is the anniversary of the largest amphibious assault in history - to whit, the D-Day invasions of Normandy during WWII. Here are some facts about the assault you might not have know:

 - Although months of rigorous planning proceeded the invasion, the actual date of June 6th was selected at the last minute.Logistically, the action needed to take place at the beginning of June, the 5th being the preferred date. However, there were a number of variables that had to be taken into account during the planning. The bombers required a full moon, and a (cloud) ceiling of at least 5000 feet. The sea could not be too rough, otherwise the heavy transport boats would not be able to make the crossing. If the winds exceeded 20 mph, the paratroopers would be unable to land safely. June came in with one of the worst summer storms in twenty years. The decision to attack on June 6th was due to the weather report given by James Martin Scagg, predicting a 24 hour period or relatively decent weather in the midst of the storm.  You can read about it here and here.

 - The Scottish Highlands were used for a lot of training during WWII, including practice for the Normandy invasion. The British Commandos took intensive training courses there.

 - The actor, Richard Todd took part in the invasion. Nearly twenty years later, he appeared in the movie, The Longest Day in the role of Major John Howard, who was his commanding officer. Another actor, in a bit role, plays Richard Todd himself.

 - Tiny submarines, manned by Commandos, were sent to Normandy in advance of the invasion to conduct reconnaissance, and to lead the landing craft safely to the beach. They hid within range of the German guns for five days before the assault took place.

 - Bagpipes were used in the attack. Piper Bill Millin, under orders from his commanding officer, Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, piped his men off the boats and up to the beach, while enduring heavy fire from the Germans. You can read his account of the attack here.

Billy Millin

How Beautiful A Day Can Be....

Every once in a while a day will come along that is as nearly perfect as it is possible for things to be on this Earth of ours. Today was just such a day for me. To begin with, the World Pipe Band Championships were being streamed live on BBC Scotland. The Worlds began at about 9 am British Standard Time, which would have put it at about 1 am here. I had to go into work at 8:30, so obviously pulling an all-nighter was not going to work for me. However, I did get up at a little past 5 and got in a solid couple hours of listening some really superb music, by the best bands in the world. This is the first time I've seen the broadcast for the competitions, and I found it tremendously exciting. Indeed, even if no other pleasant thing happened to me for the rest of the day, that glorious beginning put me in so fine a mood that it wouldn't have mattered.

In addition to getting a really good dose of piping, however, I also discovered that Celtic FC, out of Glasgow (my favourite football team*) beat out Dundee United 5-1 in their first serious game of the season. They beat Manchester United in a friendly match last week too, so they are off to a brilliant start.

And my own piping practice today went like a dream. I have been struggling with my pipes all summer, and practices have mostly been something of a purgatory for me. Today, however, everything seemed to lock in. I cannot remember the last time I sounded as decent as I did today, nor the last time that piping was so much fun. Och, there were still issues, don't get me wrong. I have a fiddly reed that takes forever to settle in when I'm playing, and which is highly sensitive to the slightest variances in pressure, so I was still cutting out a little bit, and the tuning, while acceptable, was not all it could have been... but, oh, I had the tunes, and my fingers were doing what I wanted them to do, and the over all sound was really very presentable indeed. I felt like a million dollars by the end of that!

Last but not least, when I was going for a quick stroll during my afternoon break, I passed a birch tree that shed a couple very lovely golden leaves on me. It is too early for autumn, and, indeed the day was quite warm. I think that this particular tree is changing colours more because of the abuse it has endured most the summer, with drain work and road work disturbing it continuously, rather than because it is a herald of cooler days. But the leaves were very fall-like, and as I paused in a golden shaft of sunlight to look at the birch in surprise and delight, a little breeze wove around us, and the lovely, intoxicating bitter-spice smell of autumn came wafting from it, making my happiness complete.

* soccer for those of you who think I meant a sport involving tackling and massive shoulder guards.

Killing Two Birds With One Stone

A while back I mentioned that I intended to start posting some of my own poetry, and possibly, some of my doodles to the blog. I have finally managed to do both: to whit, a poem I worked on last week, and have written up in brown ink with an illustration I made to go along with it:

Before Battle

Laird, th’ warld is unco fair
Sae deep th’ blue, uncloody sky.
Was it on sic a day as this
Ye went oot, sodger-like tae die?

“Piper, mak ready – then by yer mark!”
Up swing th’ pipes tae ma shoudder.
Did birds sing as Ye shoudderit Yer Cross
An’ marchit tae a captain’s order?

Yer Cross I sign upon masel
O! Gie the grace o’ bravery!
Bless th’ war-pipes tae th’ ficht.
(Did poppies bloom on Calvary?)

Bless ma fingers tae the pipin’.
Gie a stout heirt an’ sturdy breath
Tae follaw an’ dae manfully,
Though I pipe in the shadaws o’ death

“Piper, tak them ower th’ top!”
I gae oot wi’ pipes a-blaw.
Was e’re Eard sae heirt-brackin’ sweet,
Or music sae rantin’-braw?

A bit of back-history, for those who are wondering: during WWI, Scottish regiments were frequently led over the top by their pipers, whose tunes (now known collectively as tunes of glory) were particular to the regiment, and to Scottish - as opposed to British -patriotism. Since there is a tradition of prayerful before-action poems, I thought it would be interesting to write one from the viewpoint of a piper, hence the borrowing of Scots words and spellings.

The picture, like most of my art, is not much more than a doodle. I seem to be completely unable to create a picture of any great size. This one is about the size of a postcard, and the idea in the back of my mind was to make something along the lines of the bits of art soldiers of the two world wars, seemed to produce in remarkable quantities. Incidentally, although I have played around with watercolours for years, this is the first time I have actually used a decent sheet of watercolour paper for the exercise… It was absolutely delightful, and made painting so much easier. I do believe that I have permanently spoiled with it.

On This Day In History

... The Jacobites lost to the English in the battle of Culloden's Muir. Here is a good video about it:

A Saint for Pipers?

It is surprisingly difficult to find an appropriate saint to pray to if you happen to be a piper. Of course, there is St. Cecilia, the patron saint of music and musicians. Somehow though, the sweet, brave Roman virgin and martyr doesn't seem to be the correct person to invoke when playing the pipes, which have long been associated with men in generally, and fighting men in particular. Still, I thought it ought to be fairly easy to come across someone more appropriate. There are a good number of soldier saints on the Catholic calendar - some of whom, no doubt were also musicians of some sort. And the pipes were an extremely popular instrument for centuries, especially during the Middle Ages, so the chances are that one of the great number of saints from that period would be associated with the pipes.

It was with a light heart, then, that I began a search for a piper saint, which has rapidly turned into something like an obsession. The only saint I have come across is was positively identified as a piper is St. Philemon, a pagan, who agreed to impersonate the Deacon Apollonius (who was afraid of martyrdom) and offer inscense to the gods in his place. This led to Philemon's dramatic public conversion, and the martyrdom of himself and Apollonius. Unfortunately, Philemon destroyed his pipes upon that conversion - no doubt from the holiest of motives - but this does rather disqualify him from being the patron of pipers.

Intensive searching did not produce another single piper saint... nor, for that matter, a saint who played any instrument related to the pipes. I ended up broadening my search to include just about any saintly musician I could find, warrior saints, just because, and Celtic saints in general, because piping today is almost exclusively associated with the Scots and Irish. What I ended up with was a list of possibles, some of whom were exceedingly unlikely. Here, in no particular order, is the list:

St. Dunstan: He is Saxon saint, a monk of Glastonbury, who became bishop of Worcester, and later, of London. He was a harper, not a piper, but he also was an instrument maker, so it entirely possible that he turned out a bagpipe or two in his life time, and therefore a reasonable candidate for a piper saint.

St. Gilbert of Caithness: He was the bishop of Caithness, and apparently an extremely outspoken individual. He is included primarily on strength of his being a highlander, and because he wrote a treaty in defense of Scottish liberty.

St. Thomas More: He is a stretch, of course. St. Thomas is best known for his defense of the papacy and the Catholic Faith against King Henry VIII. However, he is exactly the sort of person pipers of my acquaintance would enjoy keeping company with. In addition to being very learned and erudite, he had a tremendous sense of humour and of fun. Furthermore, he had a musical family - no pipers, but they could acquit themselves well on lutes and harps. Still, I can't help thinking that St. Thomas would be happy to assist any musician who employed his intercession.

St. Meriadoc: (or Meriasek, as it is often given.) Yes, there really is a St. Meriadoc, two of them actually. If my memory serves me aright, this particular saint ended up in a section of Brittany called Rohan. He was a Cornishman and there is a very old play, Beunans Meriasek, written in Cornish, chronicling his life. For reasons lost to obscurity, pipers were generally associate with the play, and associated so strongly that the Cornish pipers generally took him as their patron.

St. Joan of Arc: Who is probably the most unlikely of all the possible patron saints for pipers, but who also just might be the most logical. A little known fact in the life of St. Joan, is that she had a good number of Scots in her army - in fact, the victory of Orleans is due, in no small part, to the valour of the Scots. Once the city was taken from the English, the saint and her army marched in to it, accompanied by sound of bagpipes. Supposedly, the tune they marched in with, was an old tradition tune called, at the time, Hey Tuttie Taiti but better known today as Scots Wae Hae. (Some of you might be familiar with the poem which Robert Burns put to the tune.)