Daily Archives: November 5, 2018

Dear Don: Devil’s Drop…

France & Vincent

Diana and co north 003Dear Don,

Sorry about the inbox…I don’t think it should be too bad this time. I didn’t think it would be a great idea to completely fill it while you’ve been unwell. Hope you are back on your feet and feeling better now.

The Devil’s Rock stuff for Doomsday got a bit out of hand… I hadn’t intended writing that much, but I could see it all so clearly. As soon as I sat down at the keyboard it all started pouring out. I could feel it too. The whole journey from the zodiac stones to the Place of Dreaming. Not as bad as the Telling Stone, thank goodness… but I could almost smell the smoke and taste the fear.
The Telling Stone at the circle… well, you were there. You know how badly that went… I’m still not sure how I got the car to the pub for dinner…

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Names Matter: vittles…

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…The king he were a comin’ down the street an he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hare, so he stopped and said: ‘What were that you was a singun of, maw’r?’…

…The woman, she were ashamed to let him hare what her darter had been a doin’, so she sang, ‘stid o’ that:
‘My daughter ha’ spun five, five skeins to day, my darter ha’ spun five, five skeins today…’
‘S’ars o’ mine!” said the king, ‘I never heerd tell of any on as could do that.’

Then he said; ‘Look here, I want a wife, and I’ll marry your darter, but mind now ‘leven months o’ the year she shall ha’ all the vittles she likes to eat, and all the gownds she likes to git, and all the cumpny she likes to hev; but that las’ month o’ the year she’ll ha’ to spin five skeins iv’ry day, an if she doon’t she’ll loose her hid.’
‘All right,’ says the woman: for she thowt what a grand marriage that was. And as for them five skeins, when te come tew, there’d be plenty o’ ways of getting owt of it, and likeliest, he’d ha’ forgot about it.’

So they was married.

An’ for leven months the gal had all the vittles she liked to ate, and all the gownds she liked to git, an’ all the cumpny she liked to hev.
But when the time was gettin’ oover, she began to think about them there skeins an’ to wonder if he had ‘em in mind. But not one word did he say about ‘em an’ she whoolly thowt he’d forgot ‘em.
Howsivir, the last day o’ the last month, he takes her to a room she’d niver set eyes on afore. There worn’t nothing in it but a spinnin’ wheel and a stool. An’ says he, ‘Now, me dare, hare yow’ll be shut in tomorrow with some vittles and some flax and if you hain’t spun five skeins by the night, yar hid’ll goo off.’
An’ awa’ he went about his business…

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to be continued…

Hunters and gatherers?

The Silent Eye

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“That’s women’s’ work…” I threw the wet sponge in his direction. Had he not been laughing as he said it, I might have been tempted to throw something more substantial. There was a time, not so very long ago, when the roles of men and women were thus rigidly defined, and women continue to suffer the fallout from centuries of patriarchy, even today. But, I wondered, as I scrubbed the bathroom, where did the whole idea of gender roles come from, and what, in reality, might that mean?

Define your terms, I reminded myself. What was I looking at here? Okay, ‘gender role’ was a bit of a generalisation. There have always been those who crossed the divide, adopting and excelling in areas usually considered the preserve of either male or female.  For anyone with an interest in the Mysteries, that divide is not a physical thing anyway, but…

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