crafts, cooking, designs

Possible hierarchy of magic use?

Hierarchy of magic

Mac-rath - capable of sensing magic and the effects of magic but not able to work magic per se. (name means "child of luck". In terms of the story, person carries the bloodline of magic but the ability hasn't manifested)

Talents - innate abilities - divination, blessing/cursing, finding, &c (I need a better term for this. Basically this is a person who come be a witch or sorcerer with study and practice.)

Witchcraft - using potions and talismans, charms and cantrips to work magic (requires innate ability, minimum study)

Sorcery - using ritual gestures, runes, and language to work magic (minimum innate ability, maximum study)

** There should be another category here for someone who combines witchcraft and sorcery. This would be what is taught at Claire College **

Necromancy - strictly speaking, this is a blanket term for all forms of magic that use the power of death, HOWEVER, in casual terms, it usually refers to the sorcerous use of the power released by torture, pain and death. THAT does not require any innate ability to work magic at all and is NOT taught at Claire College EXCEPT in as much as is required for the graduates of the course to recognize it when they encounter necromantic sorcery.

Most goblin magic is necromantic sorcery.

Wizardry - using will and intention to work magic (innate ability and maximum study plus conditioning)

Faerie magic - uses will and intention to work magic (innate ability, intense study on the part of human in aisling plus the blessing of the Fey)
Bernard the Elf

A simple prayer

Spirit of God, give to me of Thine abundance.
O Father, give to me of Thy wisdom.
Dear Jesus, give to me in my need.

That I may walk today with the Triune of my strength,
Beneath the shelter of Thy shield,
With the God the Father Almighty,
With Jesus His Son,
With the Spirit of might.
dialann, siud is seo

Today I gave blood

At the high school. It was encouraging to see so many first time donators. It gives me hope. More girls than boys. My take (and the phlebotomist agreed) is that men have trouble dealing with the thought of pain and needles. Women are somewhat more pragmatic.

Or maybe we just have more experience with bleeding?

Let's face it, hospitals are going to need blood. Our military men are going to need blood. All told, I suspect I've bled more for my country than my military brothers!
crafts, cooking, designs

Irish Soda Bread

Around here the grocery stores begin advertising "Irish Soda Bread" in February. It's only available until St. Patrick's day (because, of course, no one would want it any other tiem! mph!) I treat myself to one round a year, bought from the grocery story where I do most of my shopping because I like that version best.

Liked that version best.

They changed the recipe. It's now sweeter and lighter, more cake-like. Wrong texture, wrong taste.

So, I'm trying to make my own. Found a recipe on the 'net, made it. Wasn't right. Too ... too salty and too - chemical-tasting.

I adjusted a few things and tried again this morning. The loaf just came out of the oven but I can already tell it's not right. The smell is wrong, the chemical smell that is bothering me. Too late I'm suspecting that it's the baking powder in the recipe. After all, it's supposed to be Irish SODA bread, right? Not Irish Soda and Baking Powder Bread.

Next attempt I'll reduce the baking powder and see what I get.

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crafts, cooking, designs

An Dannsa Sìth - Introduction

Magic returned to the World as quietly as it had left. And as inexplicably.

It flowed in through cracks in the Border of the Worlds, cracks that appeared without warning and disappeared the same.

It pooled in shadows, flared in the twilight and darkness, gone with the first touch of sun's light.

Things followed.

Small things.

Creatures from the Otherlands; a single sprite, the odd pixie, a twinkle of a will o' the wisp, a lost rock-frog. Slipping though the tears in reality, sustained by the presence of magic, failing when the crack closed.

And then a spriggan slipped through one of the cracks.

Setting down roots between dark and dawn, fixing magic into the soil of the World. When the sun rose, a young thorn bush stood, sessile, inanimate, mindless; casting a shadow on the small crack from which it had come into the world. Within a few days, the small bush grew into an impassible thicket, providing greater shade to protect a small pool of magic at its base.

A swarm of sprites followed, sheltering in the thorny maze, flitting out through the countryside at night. Pixies moved in, burrowing beneath the thicket, digging tunnels out under the ground. Magic filled the tunnels, flowed through them, in time reaching the ground waters below. Rock frogs hopped through the crack, following the flow of magic to the waters.

Each new arrival fixed magic more firmly into the fabric of the world. The crack became a hole, still subject to the schedule of seasons and movements of bodies in the heavens above, but always opening in the same spot, the same place.

The hole grew bigger. Magic called to magic; other creatures followed. More cracks opened.

Country folk were the first to notice. People living in the deep backwoods, off the grid, close to the land. The teenaged boy potting rabbits for the pot sighting down the scope of his rifle at a jackalope. The farmer finding his entire henhouse slaughtered, the door off the latch, even though he knew it was closed the night before. The herbwife whose potions, handed down grandmother to granddaughter for generations, suddenly more effective than even the most modern of medicines. The drunkard swearing off drink after being chased home by a dog with eyes of fire late one night.

Mocked for decades as superstitious inbreds, they kept themselves to themselves and told no one. They drank the water drawn from deep-set wells, ate their hassenfeffer made with jackalope meat, wove cloth from the wool of sheep grazing on grass growing near the thickets of thorn and absorbed the magic in their blood and bones.

Others noticed as well. Hippies living in communes, congratulating themselves on the strength of their home-grown weed, not realizing that what they saw was real. Hunters tracking vicious wild animals into the deep woods only to find themselves the hunted.

Magic spread and magic woke. It reached the river and the Bowman awoke. He gathered the small ones, the lost ones, the free to himself and collected what magics he could to protect them.

Countryfolk remembered precautions told in old tales; salt in your pocket, a packet of oatmeal, a dry bun. Iron on your person, manners and courtesy to strangers. Pick up a pin, throw salt or grain or meal over your shoulder, bless others when you meet or leave them.

Children were warned not to wander out at night, to avoid the bog, be careful of the lake, say their prayers and speak respectfully. Horseshoes were set under mattresses, on walls, over windows. Or crosses.

Shops appeared, selling amulets and potions, herbs and charms. Churches dusted off their exorcism procedures, attendance boomed.

Urban legends spread.

The bogeyman under the bed, a zombie in the churchyard, the vampire in the grave, a monster in the river, a ghost in the basement, a black beast in the park; everyone had stories.

Always happening to someone else. A friend of friend, a cousin's wife's brother, somebody in the next town, another school, another place. Always hearsay. Always somewhere else. Never in the cities. Never nearby.

Until finally ... it does.
dialann, siud is seo

Books read in 2017

1. Sword in Winter by Marta Randall, re-re-re-read {0102}
2. Curse on the Land by Faith Hunter {0103}
3. Gilded Latten Bones by Glen Cook, re-read (I had completely forgotten this) {0105}
4. Wicked Bronze Ambition by Glen Cook, re-read (ditto, though I had I better idea of how it would play out) {0106}
5. Whispering Nickel Idols by Glen Cook, re-read {0107}
6. Cruel Zinc Melodies by Glen Cook, re-read {0109}

I do have several library books waiting to be read for the first time, but I'm on a Garrett (Glen Cook hero) kick going backward in time. However, I'm wanting to reread Anne Bishop's The Dark Lord's Daughter again (not redundent) and the first Soulwood book by Faith Hunter is waiting for me at the library.

Also, got some typing done on An Dannsa Sìth yesterday (words aren't real until they're in a text file) and I got some more written (but not yet typed) today.
dialann, siud is seo

Books read in 2017

1. Sword in Winter by Marta Randall, re-re-re-read {0102}
2. Curse on the Land by Faith Hunter {0103}
3. Gilded Latten Bones by Glen Cook, re-read (I had completely forgotten this) {0105}
4. Wicked Bronze Ambition by Glen Cook, re-read (ditto, though I had I better idea of how it would play out) {0106}
dialann, siud is seo

Books read in 2017

1. Sword in Winter by Marta Randall, re-re-re-read {0102}
2. Curse on the Land by Faith Hunter {0103}
3. Gilded Latten Bones by Glen Cook, re-read (I had completely forgotten this) {0105}