#GHLA

[charlie-mooren]

Have you seen this place?

Jan 3, 2006. 1:15 am

Hey guys, so I was looking through old photos from my childhood and came across some from the time that I lived in the Faoi Ghlas Valley area (somewhere near Seward AK if my memory serves me). I thought it might be nice to plan a trip there and visit some of the towns I remember, but I can’t seem to find it on maps and web results came up empty too. I could be misremembering the name or the location (after all it’s a little odd for a region in Alaska to have an Irish name), but as far as I can find it doesn’t exist??? If anyone else has been here or knows anything about the valley please let me know because this is driving me crazy.

[pharology101]

LOTD: Sgeir Ghlas

~sorry for the delay - meant for September 26th, 2023~

(from: http://www.ibiblio.org/lighthouse/heb.htm)

Sgeir Ghlas (Gray Reef, Tarbert)

Date unknown. Active; focal plane 9 m (29 ft); white, red, or green light depending on direction, 2 s on, 2 s off. 5.5 m (18 ft) cylindrical concrete tower with lantern and gallery, painted white. Trabas has a photo by Ian Wright, Richard Webb has a 2009 photo, Spencer has a good photo, Colin Kinnear also has a photo, Mirosław Dąbrowski has a 2022 drone view, and Google has a satellite view. Located on a small island in East Loch Tarbert about 5 km (3 mi) southeast of Tarbert. Accessible only by boat; good views from ferries between Tarbert and Uig on the Isle of Skye. Site open, tower closed. Operator: Northern Lighthouse Board. ARLHS SCO-207; Admiralty A3993; NGA 3876.

(full photo found here; ©Richard Webb)

[ordantorrem]

🇮🇪>🇬🇧 Ná clóscríobh nó ná labhair nuacht diúltach an Bhéarla. An teanga choilíneach chruthaithe atá lán de dhúlagar na cathrach.

Ba cheart don eaglais mise & sinn a leigheas. Scrios an rialtas Cheanada-Angla-Angalach saol baill ordaithe ag tosú ag 3 bliana d'aois. Bhí sé stalctha, náirithe & faoi ghlas suas gach sos. Síos leis an PFN & na Liobrálaithe as a bheith díreach cosúil le J Staleen!

[greypetrel]

Tagged by @idolsgf to post quotes from an OC's pinterest board. Well I was tagged by @shivunin as well but since the tags are two I'm taking the chance to do it twice. Because ironically, I was caressing the idea of starting a tag game of poetry associated with characters, LOL I may also have already written the post.

I don't use Pinterest much for quotes, so starting with Aisling who's the most complete one...

W.H. Auden, "The More Loving One" | Christina Rossetti, "Mirage" | Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Aurelia Plath | Anais Nin, "The Diary of Anais Nin, vol. 4, from 1944 to 1947" | Anais Nin, "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934-1937" | Rainer Maria Rilke, "Go to the Limit of your Longing" | Florence + the Machine "Queen of Peace" | Altan, "Gleanntáin Ghlas Ghaoth Dobhair"

Translation from the Irish (not by me, I go as far as knowing a handful of words. I found it here, if you know Irish and can see it's not accurate, please let me know and I'll edit this post asap!)

Farewell, farewell to Donegal That county sweet and fair And to her brave men when the enemy came Never cowered or bowed to the Gall I hold in esteem all those women and men And all children big and small That dwell there in peace without worry or grief In Gleanntáin in Ghlas' Ghaoth Dobhair

Tagging (just on this, tell me if you'd like to be tagged to see the other one tho): @salsedinepicta @peromy-march (because we talked of Anais Nin and maybe you'll like doing this for your blorbos) @coloricioso @dungeons-and-dragon-age @herearedragons @eowyn7023 and YOU who are reading. (Everyone got tagged already... If you want a second tag, say Friend and enter.)

[occultabyss]

Reilig Ghlas Naíon

[tt40art]

Theory: People who appreciate fine headwear (e. g., boaters, fedoras, flat caps, Stetsons, etc.) must unite to being fashionable headwear back into the mainstream. Otherwise, we are doomed to live a style-deficient Hell of trilbies (“neckbeard hats”) and ill-fitting fast-fashion headwear (e. g., branded baseball caps).

Hypothesis: It is my duty to the world to revive fashionable, high-quality headwear.

Solution: I must pioneer the Global Hat Lovers’ Alliance (GHLA).

[stumbleimg]

An Teallach ridge from Bidein a' Ghlas Thuill, Scotland [OC] [2646 x 1225]

[blairstales]

Protection From Fairies: Iron

Within Scottish folklore, fairies were known to occasionally kill or kidnap people, so there were many different protective charms that were used. One of the most common of those was iron, which as said to keep away fairies with evil intent, or even curses.

"Iron was a potent preservative. "Iron scares spirits." The belief springs from the time when iron was a new and mysterious metal. In the case of women in childbed, the safeguard took the form sometimes of a row of iron nails in the front board of the bed, sometimes of a smoothing iron, sometimes of a reaping-hook placed under the bed or in the window. Even a sword might be laid across the couch." Primitive Beliefs in the North-East of Scotland by Joseph McKenzie McPherson (1929)

Even just putting a horseshoe above the door was said to keep away fairies with evil intent, or even curses.

"A horse-shoe was of great power for the protection of cattle against witchcraft. As in England, it must be found by accident." Witchcraft & Second Sight in the Highlands & Islands of Scotland by John Gregorson Campbell (1902)

According to stories, even just needle in a bonnet, or a broken blade put up in a barn, it may be enough protection. Iron was even hung above a sleeping baby.

" Cold iron repels FAIRIES. A knife, or a cross of iron, arc sovereign protections against witchcraft and evil magic of all kinds. A pair of open scissors hung above a child’s cradle is said to protect it from being carried off by the fairies." A Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs (Published in 1976)

Some claim that the iron is like poison to the fairies, but others claim that the iron was so feared due to it's ability to stop fairy magic. It could even be used to kill fairies, which is why it was so feared by Baobhan Sith and water horses.

"When he got the wind favorable, he killed and roasted a wither-sheep in the hut. The wind blew the savory smell towards the loch, and the Water-horse, attracted by it, made its way into the hut by the entrance left for it. The smith had his irons ready in the fire, and rushing with them at the Water-horse killed it. On examination the monster proved to be merely grey turves (pluic ghlas), or, as others say, a soft mass (sgling) like jelly-fish (Muir-tiachd)." Superstitions of the Highlands & Islands of Scotland by John Gregorson Campbell (1900)

No matter which it is, the iron does not seem to bother domestic fairies. For example, broonies (brownies) are often described as helping with chores that would involve the use of iron tools. So it is likely that it only worked for evil intent.

"Smiths, being people who work among iron, were deemed of more virtue against the powers of evil than any other tradesmen." Superstitions of the Highlands & Islands of Scotland by John Gregorson Campbell (1900)

[80082lvr-xx]

life would be soo much better if we had just stayed in maine x((( foi ghlas rocked and kentucky sucks ass

[starsallalight]

"Maidin moch do ghabhas amach Ar bhruach Locha Léin An samhradh teacht 's an chraoibh len ais Is lonnrach te ón ngréin Ar theastal dom trí bhailte poirt Is bánta mine réidhe Cé gheobhainn le mais ach an chúilfhionn deas Le fáinne geal an lae... Ni raibh bróg na stoca cadhp ná clóc Ar mo stóirin óg ón speir Ach folt fionn órga sios go troigh Ag fás go barr an fhéir Bhi calán crúite aici ina glaic 'S ar dhrúcht ba dheas a scéimh Do rug barr gean ar véineas deas Le fáinne geal an lae... Do shuig an bhrideog síos le m'ais Ar bhrinse ghlas den fhéir Ag magadh léi bhios dá maoibh go pras Mar mhnaoí ná scarfainn riamh léi 'Sé duirt si liom Imigh uaim Is scaoil ar siúl me a réic Sin iad aneas na soilse a' teacht Le fáinne geal an lae..."

[anarchotolkienist]

Does anyone know of any sources for the Clearances around Loch Lomond? I'm curious about what happened to the inhabitants of the clachan Blàr Stainge, a km or so south of a' Ghlas-Bheinn

[misneachsblr]

And Did Those Feet in Ancient Time aistriúchán / aistriúchán Gaelach

Ní éireod as chath garbh a' chroí

Ní gheobhaidh mo shleá suan im lámh

Go mbainfimis Parthas amach

Ónár gcré ghlas thorthúil féin, ámh!

(I will not cease from Mental Fight,

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:

Till we have built Jerusalem,

In England's green & pleasant Land.)

Literally:

I shan't give up the rough battle of the heart

My spear shan't find slumber in my hand,

Until we'd achieve Paradise

From our green, fruitful clay, indeed!

[greypetrel]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @melisusthewee, with a big big thank you!

It's been a full full week, so here you go with a little snippet for Monster Fic, today. FEELZ in the Emerald Graves with some soundtrack, because this is coming out with a song (here's the translation of the lyrics)

Tagging: @shivunin @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @dungeons-and-dragon-age and @demandthedoodles if you feel like it, maybe also with some art? :3

Gleanntáin Ghlas' Ghaoth Dobhair (🎶)

It’s all wrong.

It’s all wrong and she wasn’t ready.

There are giants on the Emerald Graves. Actual Giants, stomping mindlessly between tall oak trees and gravestones. The few ruins that are there are getting more ruined in the wake of creatures that maybe would be more graceful if it wasn’t clear that they weren’t there on their own volition.

She’s sulking, in the evening, and she knows she shouldn’t be, as Solas, equally somberly, treats her leg. She got badly injured, and that’s another reason to sulk about. She lost her footing on a root springing from the dirt. She never lost her footing in the woods before. She grew up in the woods. And yet…

“You shouldn’t have done it.” Solas scolds her.

Aisling’s happy that he does. So she has someone to direct her frustration against. She instantly jumps at it and frown at the older elf.

“And what I was supposed to do? Just watch and let it step on my ancestors’ graves?”

“Lethallan-”

“No.”

She stops him, stubbornly, cutting the discourse on the start. Oh she knew that running at a Giant on her own, when everybody else was distracted and still not here, was incredibly stupid. She perfectly knew what she was doing, when she charged and sliced at its ankles, trying to cut his movements down. She perfectly knew that for the big creature it was just a scratch, and that her spirit blade wasn’t enough to pierce the skin deep enough, and that her gesture only made it angry. She couldn’t care. She had its attention and could lure it away, spitting curses. She managed to blind one of its eyes with a well-placed lightning, making him growl angrily at her and start running. She backed, hearing more than seeing Bull shouting at her that she was crazy. She maybe was, since when she got her foot stuck into a root and fell behind her, she didn’t try to stand up, and just… For a moment, when the Giant reached her and stomped on her leg, she thought it wouldn’t have been half bad, going like that. Defending her heritage, something she couldn’t do in the Inquisition. Show the world she didn’t forget.

In the end, Bull reached her in time, and the other too, and she got back to camp on Bull’s back, again, with a badly broken leg, bruises all over and a very grumbling Qunari complaining she got him scared, Radha in thow just looking at her with that look.

She doesn’t need, right now, Solas reminding her what went wrong: she knows perfectly well. At least he doesn’t insist too much, just sighing at her, disappointed.

“I’m just saying that any ancestor worth honoring shouldn’t wish you dead.”

“I’m still breathing.”

Another scolding look.

“What’s the real problem?” He asks, trying to delicately move her thigh on the side.

“N-nothing.” She hisses through her teeth, as the movement sends jolts of pain through her whole body. “Nothing that would interest you, Lethallin, don’t mind it.”

“Stubborn.” He sighs, letting her thigh go and pressing his fingers on its sides, blue light encircling them and pulsing with her blood as he heals her.

“It’s… I feel like I’m slowly forgetting my people and… This place, this graveyard, it’s our last stand, it’s what made us and broke us and… Venatori captured those poor creatures and freed them here. And nobody else cares.” She groans, letting her back fall on the cot in her tend, crossing her fingers on her stomach and staring at the cloth ceiling. It’s doesn’t hurt too much. “They would have left them there if we hadn’t arrived and if I hadn’t been me. I… I left them alone, I couldn’t betray them further by turning my back.”

There’s a pause, just silence and the faint rustling of leaves in the evening breeze, the crackling of the fire and the occasional chat coming from outside. The spell helps some with the pain, but not quickly enough: Aisling knows that broken femurs take a lot to heal. And they do nothing for internal ailments such as the frustration she’s feeling, the dull pain, and the regret in choosing Solas of all people to vent instead of waiting till he’s done and looking for Radha and mourn together.

“I understand, Lethallan.” Solas sighs, in the end, and something in his voice tells her he’s sincere, he does. Weird. “Yet, throwing yourself at a Giant is not a wise course of action, if you don’t wish to join the Knights in more than sword practice. Please, stay still.”

She does, frowning hard and preventing herself to cry. It doesn’t come so difficult, weirdly enough. She’s past crying, right now. This mission is being… The place is beautiful and she’s deeply grateful to be there. And yet, between the horrible, dirty feeling that every Red Templar she falls is another Cullen, in another time and turn of events. Beside the usual difference between what she sees and what the others sees – she and Radha stopping by for every statue and painting on the rocks, small ruin, everyone else… Not. Cassandra huffing, out of patience. Beside all that, it’s a stab to the heart seeing it reduced in this state. The atmosphere in the group is tense -she doesn’t feel like acting kind and easying everyone as per usual. No, this place smells of betrayal and sadness, and she’ll clinge to them, to the remainings of her past and what it meant. It may be stupid, but miles and miles away, and a sea across, her Keeper, her Mother, is entering Wycome hoping her help will be welcomed and not exploited, and she had to beg Cullen to agree and trust her, because he thought it was madness and jumping face first in a trap and… And she is praying her bet will pay off. She can’t play the Chantry-friendly elf that she is not, never was, never could be after all she’s seen. Not there.

Thinking better about it, maybe she has some tears to spill, but first, there’s a question that’s burning into her throat.

“Solas?”

“Yes?”

“You know that if you feel that you’re turning your back at someone you left behind, I can help you fix it, right?”

He stills, and in the silence of the woods, only the crack of the fire outside coming muffled from the cloth, Aisling can hear him sharply inhaling, as his fingers contracts more on her thigh. His spell waver and still… And a moment later, a single fleeting moment later he lets go, getting back to work.

“Thank you.” It’s strained, she doesn’t really understand why.

“Or I can listen, as you listened to me. That’s what friends do, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Will you tell me?”

He sighs, corners of his lips bending up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Maybe one day.”

[imoim36news]

Vận chuyển lên lại bất cứ phần nào là của Quốc gia Anh (bên trên Facebook hoặc YouTube) sẽ ảnh hưởng coi như là vi phạm phiên bản quyền, vấn đề này thông thường kéo theo việc chấm hết tài khoản cá nhân Bargin part 2 jumat mãng cầu ghla jang ao bia...

[shisasan]

Irish Air - Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair - Fiddle and Pipes

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

sir, kid, bro, ma’am, mate, mx, anon--this isn’t my AU. i literally said so on the post, it’s Shark’s, if u have ideas ur gonna have to sent them to Shark urself, buddy, pls-- HGKLASFDM;OGHOAWE