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3/18 – 4/14: The Alder was believed by the Druids to link both male and female principles, thus helping to create a balance between the two within each individual. It is also associated with courage and represents the evolving spirit. Considered to be a tree of death and resurrection, it may have been used (along with the Poplar) in the fe rod which was kept in pre-Christian cemeteries for the measuring of graves and corpses. The fe rod was handled only by an appointed official and was believed to have been carved with an Ogham inscription. Resistant to the rotting element of water, wood from the Alder was often used in the making of bridges, boats, clogs and milk jugs. It was also frequently used in the making of magical whistles, flutes and pipes. It was once a crime to fell an Alder since the angry tree spirit was believed to take revenge by burning down houses. If felled, however, the tree literally “bleeds” by turning from white to red. Red dyes were once made from the bark, brown dyes from the twigs and green dyes from the flowers of this tree. The Alder is a Faery tree sacred to Bran and, therefore, oracular in nature and often used for divination. Medicinally, it would be used to rid people of fleas and boils. In Irish legend, the first human male was created from Alder (the first female being created from Rowan).
The Common Alder is a somber, deciduous tree with a dark bark. It is water-loving and most comfortable along lowland rivers and streams, often in the company of Aspens, Poplars and Willows. Like the Willow, the Alder sprouts from a stump, which allows this tree to regenerate after heavy flooding. In protected areas, Alders may grow to be 65 feet tall. European Alders are not widely cultivated in North America (where they are often sold under the name of “Black Alders”). Alders are members of the Birch family. The timber of the Alder is oily and used extensively for underwater foundations…parts of Venice and many medieval cathedrals were built on Alder pilings. On the Continent, Alder is used extensively to make cigar-boxes and the branches make good charcoal…valuable in the manufacture of gunpowder. Alpine peasants are often reported to have been cured of rheumatism by being covered with bags filled with heated Alder leaves. Horses, cows, sheep and goats are said to eat of the Alder, but swine refuse it and it is thought that it may be bad for horses, turning their tongues black.
There are two distinct types of Alder individuals (a division which relates to all Celtic Tree Signs). The “new moon” character is associated with the first two weeks of a sign and the “full moon” character is associated with the last two weeks.
The “new moon” Alder individual is perhaps the most restless and indecisive. While personal courage and sincerity may never be in doubt, such an individual might be well-advised to slow down every now and again in order to reconsider the cosequences of any actions. The “full moon” Alder individual is the most persuasive, exuding a more confident approach to life in general, but can lack the apparent vibrant energy associated with the “new moon” Alder. Nevertheless, such individuals can become extremely successful by being strategically placed in the right position to take full advantage of any crisis situation.
In general, Alder individuals are powerful, adventurous people prepared to make their own way in the world, often leaving friends and family behind. They possess a great deal of courage and make for wonderful allies, but usually prefer to fight their own battles. They have a restless spirit and, on occasion, can be foolhardy in pursuits due to their sense of adventure. Since they are also very competitive by nature, they are likely to do everything to the limit of their being, but often direct their energies entirely for the good of others…frequently to their own detriment. Alder people are inclined to break down barriers and explore new territory. Their enthusiasm and bravery makes them excellent leaders. They can, however, be selfish and display a quick temper which may earn them enemies. The Alder individual has a well-honed sense of humor (sometimes considered to be barbed or even satirical) and will often “play the clown” when in the midst of a group. Being extremely physical people, Alders are full of energy and have a deep-seated need to be active almost 24 hours a day.
Impetuous and self-reliant, Alders enjoy risk-taking and are tenacious workers. Being affectionate, gentle, charming and usually accommodating, they inspire great loyalty in others. Magnificent as entrepreneurs, Alder individuals are often flamboyant and frequently attracted to dangerous occupations. In friendship, their personal ego rides high but they possess a need for recognition which often makes them vulnerable. They are great competitors but, if on the losing end, have the tendency to quit and try something new instead. If an Alder can be convinced to channel his or her energy into humanitarian causes, then he or she will be the type of person who is not easy to forget. Psychologically, the Alder is uncomplicated and will usually express any opinion quite openly. With a passionate nature and an inherent desire for love, they are apt to marry quickly but usually make better sweethearts than they do spouses, given their need for personal freedom. As parents, however, they rank among the best than can be found. It is important for Alder individuals to learn the art of diplomacy or they are prone to waste energy in fruitless disputes.
To find your Celtic Horoscope visit http://www.celticradio.net/php/zodiac.php?type=index
Don’t forget to check out my birthday free ebook and a chance to win an autographed copy of “Fractured Love…Broken Promises”!
I found this little tidbit at http://www.oldarmysupplyco.com/store/pog-mo-thoin.html and thought I would share…
Of course St. Patrick’s Day is an Irish holiday. So while everyone else is pretending to be Irish, we offer this solution to keep the day truly entertaining for the proud Scot.
From the Founder’s Reserve. Nothing to do with Old Army. Just something near and dear to my heart.
That’s Scottish-Gaelic (the top part), around thistle with St. Andrew’s crosses on either side. On St. Patrick’s Day, leave the dressing up like a fairytale woodland midget to the Irish (and everybody else).
…Paddy was Scottish anyway
St. Patrick was born in 387 in Kilpatrick, Scotland to prominent Roman parents. When he was 16, he was kidnapped by Irish raiders, and sold to a chieftain named Milchu of Dalriada (in the present-day county of Antrim).
After 6 years he ran away (on the advice of an angel) to return home where further heavenly guidance bade him return again to the heathen lands of Ireland to deliver some much-needed saving. He headed first for the house of his former master to pay his own ransom of freedom with an interest to be paid in kindness. But, having heard of the Scotsman’s miraculous journey through Ireland, the master locked his slaves in his house, set it on fire and threw himself in.
So sturdy was the gravitas of a noble Scot.
And while I have your attention
And when a Scotsman drinks liquor, it’s usually Scotch (though he just calls it whisky).
I love love! This is why I write love stories. Although I am releasing this book now, “Fractured Love… Broken Promises” is a valentine story that is not about Valentine’s Day. It is about love. A forbidden love and an unexpected love rising from the ashes.
You will not find love poems or quotes of love in these pages but you will experience love.
Coll was shocked to discover that the woman he wished to wed was his half-sister and his half-brother was not his brother at all! He was quickly wed to another lass before the shame could be revealed.
Heather was confused. One day Coll speaks words of love to her and the next…he is wed to another. Furious with the betrayal, she vows to dislike the warrior the king has betrothed her to…not an easy task when he is handsome and gallant.
Determined to stay the course, she soon finds her heart melting as she gradually falls in love with her new husband.
When Coll returns…who will she choose? She does not know that he is her brother. Will she pine away for a forbidden love? Will they tell her the truth before she ruins the one true love in her life?
Pick up a copy and see for yourself why I love love.
Here is an excerpt for Valentine’s Day…
He sat astride his black destriar at the edge of the tree line… motionless, observing the fair-haired beauty making her way across the glen with her hand-maiden. Occasionally, she would stop and pluck something from the ground then continue on, as they returned to the keep.
He and his father had arrived there an hour earlier to be informed that Heather was out gathering herbs before the first frost came. Blane rode out to ensure her safety while his father made the arrangements with Lady Macrae. His presence was not necessary and it gave him an opportunity to assess his bride without interruption. So far, he liked what he had found.
Her figure was trim but not skinny with enough bends to border on curvaceous, as far as he could tell beneath the cloak she wore. She carried herself with dignity and grace as she strolled through the glen. A sudden gust of wind caught her cowl, whipping it from her head revealing red-gold tresses that nearly reached her knees. She laughed as she struggled to replace the errant garment. It was a pleasant tinkle in his ear.
Mairi gasped in fright as she spotted him watching a few yards away. Heather spun around in alarm but she did not run. She raised her chin haughtily as her eyes met his in challenge. He did not move a muscle nor utter a single sound.
The corner of his mouth quirked, threatening a smile but he did not relent. She has spirit…and courage. Tis good.
Heather trembled inside as she stared at this black-haired giant. He was the biggest man she had ever seen! The stranger was broad shouldered with thighs like tree trunks…a powerfully built warrior. And handsome, as well! Even the scar slashing his left cheek could not detract from his looks. But it was his eyes that held her captive. Those bottomless emerald orbs that spoke volumes to her soul in a language she did not comprehend. Without thought, she took a step toward him.
“M’lady!” Mairi cried out as she grasped her arm. The spell was broken. With a curt nod he disappeared into the forest.
by Craig Strachan
Advice on Writing, Publishing, and Book Promotion
The Best New Independent Horror
DAUNTLESS and UNAFRAID in DEFIANCE!