#an poitin still

[author145]

Battle for the Still - Chronicles 3

Battle for the Still – Chronicles 3

You could guarantee that at least once every month the wilder areas of South Armagh would get a visit from the Customs & Excise men, or ‘Gaugers’, as part of their efforts to seek out and remove all illicit Poteen Stills that were spread all over the area. They were not always successful in their searching, and, on many occasions, they would meet resistance from the poteen makers, especially if…

[frimleyblogger]

Aeneas Coffey (1780 – 1852)

Aeneas Coffey (1780 – 1852) - Coffey's continuous still revolutionised the distillation of alcoholic spirits

Effective as the pot still was, whisky production required two or more distillations, making it inefficient and laborious. The distiller had either to have several stills available, an expensive proposition, or, after each cycle, empty out the contents and wash the chamber thoroughly before starting on the next stage. Attempts to improve the speed and efficiency of the distilling process began in…

[citizen69]

Making potcheen / moonshine with an illicit still in a secluded area of Donegal. Circa 1896.

Poitin/Poteen/Potcheen  can be distilled from cereals, grain, whey, sugar beet, molasses or potatoes. The old style of poitín distilling was from a malted barley base for the mash, the same as pure pot still whiskey. In more recent times, some distillers deviated from using malted barley as a base due to the cost and availability instead switching to using treacle, corn and potatoes. It is believed this switch led to the deteriorating quality and character of poitín in the late 20th century.

[lore-of-the-silvereyes-rwby]

Remnants Silver Legends

Chapter 8

The West Valley road/ Rananore fields/ Endemar

Rananore; vast fields, and tall grass. Fertile farmland, and the Great Valley road passing through. Truely a peaceful land where the work is honest, and people live in safety. Quiet fields with the wind breezing through.  But a small tremor disrupts this tranquil land. 

Not a natural one born from nature. But one forged by the heels of thousands. Thousands running for the safety of home. Each at a different pace. Some fast, and quick others slow, and tired. Most of them were wounded, and dying. One of the many knights within this legion falls down to their knees. Weak and tired with blood dripping down their arm. Another knight hurries to his aid.

“Are you all right,” the knight asked as he dropped to his knees to aid his comrade.

“I ...I  ...may have ...lost more blood than I  ...than I thought,” he claimed in a very faint voice, as his breath grew shorter.

“You’re going to be fine alright, we're almost home,” he said, trying to comfort him. 

“Hey, hey you two, over here,” he called out to a pair of youngbloods to help him.

The two hurried over to answer his needs. The knight has one go find anyone who knows medicine. He knew he was asking too much. Especially since he knew most of the knights, or dames who were trained to be field doctors were either dead, or missing. As that one  left, he had the other one help him lift the wounded knight back on his feet.

The knight takes the right side, and the remaining youngblood takes the left. The two keep in mind his damaged right arm. As they lift him up his  arm from its socket falls down to the ground. They all look in shock, and surprise.

“Something tells me ...I’m not ...getting that back ...am I?”

“No...no you are not.”

“We’re almost there,” cried the voice of someone on horseback! “Keep moving, They’re bound to send help if we’re close enough for them to see us!” The rider then noticed the trio. He got off his horse, and offered it to the wounded. “Take this, you need it more than I do,” the rider offered.

The three of them got the wounded knight on the horse. After they secured him on it, they then had the youngblood saddle up on the horse. He would ride  while it carried the wounded knight. Soon after they sent them off hoping that by the time they reached the gates they would be open. Hopefully aid will come to them, he thought. That’s more than he can say for the rest of them. 

He feels helpless as he knows he can’t save them all. His mind was clouded by grief. He hangs his head in defeat looking down as he continues to walk down the path. Then all of a sudden a loud horn was heard. He raises his head to see the gates of Sinda open. Carriages, carts, and caravans began to exit the city. Escorted by the Ostirio wall garrison. They ride faster than the wind to aid them.

“We’re saved,” the knight beside him asked as he exclaimed in joy,”...Right?”

“Yes, yes we are,” he answered

 With renewed hope, they began to move in haste. The former rider stands alone to the side avoiding the raging stampede of hopeful souls. He noticed the severed arm of the wounded knight who he gave his horse to. He picks it up and removes the metal bracer which was in good condition. He tossed the lifeless limb into the nearby fields, so that it won’t block the way of his troops as they rush for aid. 

He had begun to walk down the path to the city. He then started to reflect on the events that led him here, as well as the tenets he was tasked to uphold. As the legions Marshal he swore an oath to those responsibilities. In his mind he failed them all.

Mahtale tole/Silirin/ Endemar

“What do you think that horn was,” Ezer asked?

“It came from Sinda so it was probably a drill or something,” Ithiel answered.

“Something is off,” Lucius implored. “There were no drills scheduled today.”

“Probably a surprise performance inspection then,” Ithiel said.

Three friends argue, and discuss the reasons behind the sound they heard. They’re also not the only ones either. The people around them, and throughout the city wonder the same thing. In their own thoughts they hope it was nothing to be concerned with. Strange days are ahead, but are they for the better or for the worst. But for now friends will wine and dine.

“Which one of you ordered the ale and honey biscuits?”

“Here,” Lucius said, raising his hand.  The server gave him his order, and began to drink.

“Okay and the salted fish with cheese bread, and Poitin.”

"That be mine," claimed Ezer.

“Alright and I guess you’re the one who wanted the strawberry tart, and port wine, I take it.”

“A personal favorite to the end I’m afraid,” Ithiel acknowledged as he smiled in delight. “Gratias tibi,” he said to her.

After she finished serving their food, she proceeded to the next table. The three friends share a toast, and drink. Sometime had passed before the three began their conversation anew. 

“So anybody got something interesting going on,” queried Ezer?

“Nothing much going on in my life. Probably going to return to my studies,” Lucius answered

“Let me rephrase that,” asserted Ezer. “Anyone besides mixed-eyes here got something to say,” he bellowed.

That earned a scornful stare from Lucius. Ithiel couldn’t help but feel disappointed in Ezer. As a fellow Arhon he at least thought that all of them were like minded for the better. Guess he was wrong. But there's still hope for them yet. Best to change the subject before things escalate.

“To answer your question Ezer,” he said, hoping to avoid conflict. “I’ll be leaving the city soon if you're curious.”

That seemed to have nulled the tension between the two. Petty spite turned to surprise.  

“Seriously you’re leaving,” Ezer inquired?

“Where to,” Lucius asked?

They continue to ask, pressuring him for an answer.

“Calm down, calm down,” Ithiel urged, gesturing to them to keep it down. “Ok, I don’t know where I’ll be traveling yet, nor do I know anything about it. But I do know it's a place not many have ever been to.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Lucius stated.

“Sadly that's true,” Ezer agreed.

“Wait, is that why you seem to be off today, because you're leaving,” Lucius asked?

“Mostly,” he lied.

“Well look on the bright side,” exclaimed Ezer. “You’ve been outside of the city more times than I have.” He then took another drink. “You want to know the first thing I’m gonna do when I leave,” he said as he began to boast.

“Let me guess, hunt down the Druwil,” Lucius divulged. 

“Who asked you,” Ezer challenged Lucius?

“The Druwil,” Ithiel inquired?

“It’s nothing, just some Grimm fable. Legends say that they're older than The Fall of Dor-nest, and that there is only one left,” Lucius told him.

“And I’m gonna hunt it down and kill it,” bragged Ezer.

“Sure you are,” Lucius sighed.

As they continued their conversation a new patron entered the tavern they were in. The foreign stranger approached the counter then began to converse with the owner. Lucius spotted and took note of this stranger's appearance. 

His eyes were light blue, so obviously human. He had short black hair and his face bare.  His skin was fair, but tan marks were prominent but not noticable. His attire was blue and grey with leather armor, and a dark cloak adorned on his shoulders. An explorer maybe?  But from where he thought. He then began to cross off potential points of origin.

Eregost; too pale. 

Irestia; too stern, and rough looking.

Nuel;  not the romantic type.

Rawmaite; too short to hail from any of those islands.

Anarsta; he may need a second opinion.

“Hey Ithiel you’re familiar with the northern people right?”

“I know of them. Why do you ask?”

Lucius pointed to the foreign figure at the counter.

“Any idea where he’s from?”

He took a look at him to see if he can answer Lucius’s question.

“I only know of the major cities, and trade centers, but if I had to make a guest he’s most likely from Nenlant or near it, he answered.”

“Any idea of his profession?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. 

“Entschuldigen Sie, entschuldigen Sie meine Herren, an unknown voice spoke to them.” They were cut off guard as the stranger they were talking about was all of a sudden standing right in front of them. “Is it okay if I bull up ein chair, he asked?” They both nodded in acknowledgement and gave him the go ahead. “Vielen Dank, meine Herren, he said.”

“If you don’t mind, may I ask what is your purpose here, Ithiel asked?”

“It is ein long schtory, put in schort I am here unter contract py zomeone vo visches ein Hautience vith zee City Lord, und zee ovner of zis blace tells me vu can help me vith zat, he surmised,” as he pointed at Ithiel.

He was stunned by what he said.

“Why me,” he Inquired?

Zee ovner told me zat vu vould tell me vy zo vo are vu?

“That depends who wants to meet him,” Ithiel asked?

“Unfortunately I can’t discloze zat Hinformazion,” he said. “Zo can vu help me or not?”

Ithiel pondered in thought. Trying to see the strangers intentions. He didn’t seem like a dishonest person. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but someone who wanted his intentions known.

“It must be important that this person sees him isn’t it,” he added as he took a drink of wine. 

The stranger’s integrity began to weaken. He grew annoyed at the silberäugig man. But he had to keep his composure. At least until his task was over. He asked again.

 “Can vu help me or not?”

After some thought Ithiel gave into his demands. What's the worst that can happen he thought. This was of course his city, and home, with people that stand up for each other.

“As his son I think I can help your friend meet my father,” he alleged. “Do you have a name?”

 The revelation that he was the son of the man he was looking for, still had the stranger in awe.

“It’s Isa, Isa of Nenarta,” he answered.

“I was close,” said Lucius as he took another sip.

“Nice to meet you Isa,” Ithiel greated as he stood to shake his hand. 

There was a noticeable height difference between the two. He stood a head taller than him. Isa felt a little intimidated.

“Nice to meet you too, um . . . sorry I didn’t catch your name.” he said as he shook his hand.

“Ithiel, Ithiel of the House of Ilsalos,” he said. “So shall we leave?”

“Sicher.” 

As they began to walk, Isa noticed the other two.

“Vait vat apout zem,” he asked?

Ezer may have had one too many drinks, and Lucius sat there in annoyance. This wasn’t the first time his cousin was in this state. But he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they share blood. He turned his gaze to Ithiel.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll get him home as soon as I can,” sighed Lucius. “Take care of yourself though Ithiel.”

Ithiel acknowledged what he said and continued on his way with Isa. The two left the tavern and proceeded to where the client was. It was about a half an hours’ walk to their destination. He made sure to keep his guard up, for he is unsure if this was genuine cause or a trap. But who benefits from it. They arrived in an alley where a tall figure in red and grey waits. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and his head rises to see the pair approaching him.

“Who’s this guy,” he asked?

“Zir may I brezent Iziel, zee zon of Zilirin’s city Lord,” Isa answered.

“It’s Ithiel,”he said, trying to correct Isa's accent.

“Your Lord Herod’s,” he asked flabbergasted?

“Yes I am, and I’m here in good faith that this is an important matter,” stated Ithiel. “As such may I ask both the reasons for your secrecy and who you are that warrants an audience with my father?”

Surprised by his good fortune he relented. He stopped leaning against the wall and approached them. He was just a couple feet opposite of Ithiel. Silver eyes, met silver eyes. But they have never met before, until now as he began to bow to Ithiel.

“My name is Wyn, son of Aneirin of Gadronma,” He revealed. “ It is urgent that I meet Lord Herod, if Silirin, and the rest of Numen are to avoid the same fate as my homeland.”

NOTES

Sorry for the long wait, life got in the way. Also I’m trying to make these longer. Hopefully the next one won’t take 5 months

[alchemisland]

Mike’s list of Irish punk bangers

Recently I’ve been attempting to recall the results of a certain patch-decked census, namely the list of one-off punk bands I’ve seen over the years. Next came another, more troubling thought: if tomorrow morning a hemorrhage turned my wits to water, who would wrest this mantle and detail those defunct Irish punk and metal bands who split without leaving behind a recording? If not I, then who?

Rather than spouting a list of band names so unheard as to seem almost religiously profane when uttered aloud, I recall only the time when conjuring a selection suchlike was easy and did not require considerable aforethought, which counts as work and is thus un-punk. 

Perhaps it’s misremembrance which worries most. 

Striving to immortalize these rarities which, like rare nightbugs, enter one’s ear and soon thereafter die, I will compile these annals myself. I’ve opted for a regular selection of arbitrary Irish underground and alternate tunes. Mostly punk and extreme metal, although there’s post-punk, bassy weirdness, drone, rock&roll and hip hop throughout.

I haven’t yet considered breakdown metrics. By subgenre or county of origin perhaps, but that’s for a future iteration to say. Just count your good sense badges and be glad I didn’t use the originally planned ‘Pale Shadows’ and ‘From the Bog’ headings for Dublin and rest-of-country songs respectively.

From the forge of Hephaestus to your plateless breast, three of my favourite underground Irish songs:

Violins is Not the Answer - Sick

Unless someone’s asking what luthiers make, Violins is Not the Answer. However, Violins were someone’s answer when they tore the tucked shirt off Galway punkdom with their raucous 2011 debut Green Diesel and Poitin. It’s a time-tested sob story of Irish scene cohesion that lets so fresh a band go unnoticed, unhailed and handsomely unkempt outside their home county; it’s this exact myopia, although antipode, which confined Lovecraft in Rhode Island and left Howard’s hypothalamus on the dash under a Cross Plains sun. 

Aside from the band themselves, I doubt there’s another  person alive who has heard this album more than I. I’ve proudly flown that battered, cider-stained flag throughout a local and global invasion until Violins, not 42, became the answer, at least for me.

Has it really been that long? Eight years on it still excites much as the first time. Its engine-revving opening track conjures images of sputtering roadsters chewing the starting line of a Mad Max outback race, while the final upstroked riddums of its GBH-esque closer Sick promises the tinny best of Shitty Limits alongside the sombre heights of FNM’s Midlife Crisis.

Guitars that sound like they’re being played with chainmail’d fingers, vorpal bass tapping, ska pick it ups to HxC stick it ups (middle fingers in this instance), Green Diesel crams a maelstrom of alt genres into a curt 26-ish minute runtime. Ben’s phlegm-tinged vocals lead the sonic vanguard, bolstered and occasionally shelved in favour of fireman-cum-drummer Donal’s softer warble on cryptid welfare anthem Vampire on the Dole.

Sick is my favourite tune. The song, the album’s only track exceeding a three minute runtime, combines everything that makes Violins worth ear-time in the epoch of overchoice. Although Class Ayes and Dickheads Picnic deliver the nutkicks exactly how frontman Ben, of Psychopigs, Hardcore Priests and Doppelskangerz fame, wants them delivered, Sick offers a sample book of greatness to come across two recorded albums. Containing an otolaryngologist-approved mix of harsh shouting and actual singing, Ben’s disarming foghorn timbre sweeps us slowly toward the finish after a suppressing fire of growled insistence, “You ain’t never gonna come//between me and my bottle.”

Fans of short time good time are well served with riffy tunes in the vein of punchier Propagandhi songs, albeit playfully apolitical. Littered with in-jokes and avowedly pro substance, these tracks stink of fun in the studio, a subterranean lodge affectionately christened the Fritzl Bunker. Even angry songs fizz with youthful energy. It makes me want to drink malibu from a shoe in GG Allin’s house. It rouses me to a bubbling zenith of bacchic hedonism which Andrew W.K. can’t hold a candle to. 

There’s much here not found elsewhere; adjoining on Keytar Mr Jimmy Penguin of Skratch Games fame, his genius confined only by the breadth of his current interest; also the album’s producer. You can tell Jimmy put work on this record. Every groove is warm and tipped to perfect balance with just the right amount of hiss; right in the sense that it’s sometimes wrong. 

Since disbanded, there’s two albums worth of raw riffage to enjoy. From Refused rip-offs and Exploited shouts-outs to Elvis Costello tracks played backwards, find this album, buy a CD and tell your Granny this picnic is for dickheads.

I’m rambling. Violins is not the Answer. For my money, the best punk band in Ireland post 2010.

https://violinsisnottheanswer.bandcamp.com/track/sick

Divisions Ruin - Srebrenica/Merely Existing

I won’t lie. Much like a former athlete whose varsity gout impeded athletic excellence, I’ve had to settle here. I wanted the track Srebrenica from Division Ruin’s side of the Easpa Measa split - another band we’ll encounter later, or if not here than absolutely in future installments, should they ere be writ. 

I have the vinyl. Whenever I want to sonically experience withstanding a carpet bombing, I stick the needle down, turn the table over, sit in the lotus position and wait for oblivion. This track absolutely slays. The opening riff, an atomic discharge of heavy bass, distorted guitar and technical drumming from the scene stalwart and filler-player-extraordinaire John K, sears the ears, and one might be forgiven for touching that dial. Then the vocals come. Impassioned howls from the furious maw of Cirarot, which sound almost prehistoric in their primal ferocity. With my eyes closed, I feel the cymbal crashes like great waves and imagine people of the dawn age battling terrible beasties, although I’m not sure if she’s the lizard or its prospective prey. 

Although all their recorded tracks offer something for filth-seekers, I struggled to find another which accurately conveyed with sufficient brutality the blunt force flavour Srebrenica proffers. However you locate this song, ensure you’ve your iodine pills to hand; shit is about to get nuclear. In lieu of an active link, here’s another hefty slab from the same split.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARGqt0r_cVg

Easpa Measa- Vargold

B-side of the Divisions Ruin split, Easpa Measa deliver a cleaner, dare I say, more mature crust experience. Less raw but equal in ferocity, Easpa Measa’s Eric’s howls are twisted as the metal he contorts for his angry punky art, conjuring images of Ireland with reintroduced wolves.

We picture them on the plain, endemic of wider wildness among the populace. However you fall on the lupine legacy of Eireann’s isle, Easpa Measa deliver perfect high kicks on every tier. Riffs, loud bass and amazing drumming from Ken Sweeney, another scene stalwart also of Harvester fame, while Clodagh’s vocals, whose shrieking ire can only be matched by the shipwrecking songs of the sirens themselves, compliment Eric’s baleful howls.

Bring back the wolf indeed. Although so many years since its release the band have disbanded with ne’er a wolf attendant at a single show, this song’s singular ferocity more than accounts for any deficit of wolfnishness on the island. Don’t miss this amazing video from their final show, alongside the Freebooters at the Boh’s club in Dublin, with bonus front row Mike Dempsey (that’s me!).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wIQC6wk7sY

If you like this list or the tunes therein, let me know your thoughts and why they activated your nodding lever. 

If other bands are close to your heart but far from the zeitgeist, comment or PM with appropriate links and I’d be glad to include your suggestion.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this short post. I’ll have interesting content by the fishgut bucketload in 2020, but should/hope to have one more live before yuletide at least. 

Please drop a like and share this post with your favourite PUNX. Give them the gift of Violins this Christmate. An early stocking filler to ensure the loyalty of nephews and nieces come the post-yule divorce news, here’s an.. Important music video I made for their track Dickheads Picnic.

[barbidule44]

Pour le week-end de Pâques, je suis allée passer quelques jours à Quimper.

Ma fille y fait ses études, alors c’était l’occasion de passer un peu de temps avec elle, et de voir la ville autrement que la dernière fois,  en novembre, c’est-à-dire…sous la pluie non-stop! (Et c’était ma 1ère fois à Quimper, je dois vous dire que ça m’avait vraiment bien refroidi….)

Heureusement, pour ce séjour-là, le soleil était au rendez-vous, et j’ai donc pu mieux apprécier la ville.

Quimper, c’est petit (oui, comparé à Nantes, hein), le centre-ville, c’est mignon, et, comme c’est petit, on en a vite fait le tour, il faut bien l’avouer.

Mais Quimper a quelques bonnes adresses que j’ai eu l’occasion de découvrir, et il m’en reste même à tester pour une prochaine fois !

Le dimanche et le lundi (de Pâques), c’était férié, donc, pas grand-chose d’ouvert, c’est donc dès le mardi que nous avons pu découvrir les petites adresse du centre-ville.

D’abord, commençons par une petite adresse où manger de bons bagels :

 Be Kool 

Des bagels frais et variés, et très bons ! Et le pain est vraiment délicieux, frais, moelleux ( félicitations au boulanger). 👍😊 Une bonne petite adresse à recommander, en face les Halles.

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  Puis, pour un burger, nous avons découvert

Burgers Café.

Du burger très honnête, produits frais, frites bonnes. Il y a même une version végétarienne. Mais comme j’ai été habituée aux meilleurs à Nantes…. 😀👍🍔 (Attention, je ne dis pas qu’ils ne sont pas bons, hein ! Pas du tout ! Juste qu’à Nantes….bah oui, on a un large choix de très très bons, alors forcément…quand on cherche à comparer…).

Mais je vous recommande tout de même cette adresse quimpéroise !)

page facebook

  On a découvert aussi une petite crêperie-librairie :  

Book’n’Billig

À la fois crêperie et librairie d’occasion. Joli, sympa, gourmand….On s’y est arrêté prendre le goûter.

Un accueil très sympa, une déco lumineuse, avec sa verrière à l’arrière, un petit endroit chaleureux où il fait bon se poser, et où je compte bien revenir. Validé !

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  Autre adresse, chaleureuse et gourmande et fraiche et belle, et accueillante, et tout ça tout ça, et en plus, ouverte depuis seulement une semaine :

le Kaf’té.

Resto-salon de thé-de café

Le Kaf’Té vient d’ouvrir place Médard. Et ça promet du bon ! Restauration, salon de thé, goûter… J’ai pris un jus maison, (ne vous fiez pas à sa couleur) vraiment délicieux ! (Épinard, menthe, gingembre, et je ne sais plus quoi), un goût frais et doux, j’ai adoré.

Comme on sortait de table, parce qu’on venait de manger un burger, on a juste pris une boisson, mais je compte revenir y manger à ma prochaine visite à Quimper. La carte avait l’air alléchante (et tout fait-maison et frais).  Avec en plus une petite terrasse bien agréable..

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  le projet sur bulbintown.com

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  On cherchait où prendre le goûter. Et…une adresse revenait souvent sur les r��seaux avec de tellement belles photos….(surtout de brunchs, d’ailleurs)

Où ?

À La Lichouserie ! (Resto-salon de thé)

Dans une jolie petite rue, la rue Laennec. J’ai pris un thé de printemps et tiramisu aux fraises (balèze ! et miaaaam), et ma fille m’a ensuite rejointe, et son goûter….OMG ! Un brownie au chocolat terrible !

Là aussi, je reviendrai. Et j’essaierai le brunch, sans doute, si je peux.

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    Pour boire un petit verre entre amis, pour pas très cher, je vous recommande le

Café des Arts.

  Bien situé près de l’Odet, rue Ste Catherine, à côté de la préfecture et du cinéma Les Arcades.

Les serveurs sont sympathiques, la déco vieillotte, certes, et qui me fait un peu penser à mon café du lycée dans les années 80, mais bon, on s’en fiche un peu, on n’y vient pas pour sa déco. On s’amuse à lire les citations accrochées aux murs, on peut même jouer au flipper (un flipper Aerosmith). En terrasse, vous avez même la vue sur la cathédrale.

Bref, on a pris un verre de Chardonnay pour moi (bien rempli, le verre, en plus !), et un café crème pour ma fille, pour seulement 3,90€, avec même des cacahuètes !

sur le Petit Futé

Sur Yelp

  On a aussi goûté les fameux Macarons de Philomène , et ils sont très bons, c’est vrai !

  On a croisé une crêperie ambulante, mais pas goûté  (han, c’est comme ça alors, les food-trucks bretons ? ) ;-)

(Mais je n’ai pas réussi à trouver de lien sur internet, par contre…)

    Je ne suis pas restée assez longtemps pour faire d’autres adresses, que je me réserve pour la prochaine fois (en plus des adresses où je compte bien revenir !) :

 A voir, les prochaines fois :

Le Sistrot

Resto, bar à cidres

http://www.lesistrot.com/

Le Sherlock Holmes

Resto burger et aussi végé

http://www.sherlockholmes-quimper.com/

Le Vin Dans Les Voiles

Bar à vin et épicerie…ça m’a donné envie ! Mais pas eu le temps….dommage.  La prochaine fois, sans faute !

  Le Tuk-Tuk

Resto Thai (qui propose aussi des spécialités végétariennes)

Le Finnegans

Pub irlandais et restauration

  An Poitin still

Pub irlandais, vers la gare (tout près de chez ma fille, c’est pratique), avec souvent des concerts.

  Et bien sûr, la Maison Jaune ! (où ma fille et ses amis sont des habitués)

Bar et concerts, ambiance plutôt rock, dans le quartier du Locmaria.

On en parle aussi là

 Voilà, si vous avez d’autres suggestions, n’hésitez pas à m’en faire part. Ce n’est que la 2ème fois que je vais à Quimper, et à chaque fois c’est très court…J’ai donc encore beaucoup à voir.

Bref, laissez moi vos commentaires, je les lirai et y répondrai avec plaisir.

:-)

  Mes petites adresses à Quimper Pour le week-end de Pâques, je suis allée passer quelques jours à Quimper. Ma fille y fait ses études, alors c’était l’occasion de passer un peu de temps avec elle, et de voir la ville autrement que la dernière fois,  en novembre, c’est-à-dire…sous la pluie non-stop!

[whosxafraid]

Leaves a bottle of poitin, and whispers ~last breath~

Meme:  SEND ME ‘LAST BREATH’ FOR MY MUSE TO DIE IN YOUR MUSE’S ARMS.  Put ‘inverse’ at the end for your muse to die on mines arms. Status: Open

When moments become days. And those days turn to years. And the years begin to slip into decades...centuries...eons--time becomes something weighed only in seconds. Weighed in the breathes between touches. The shared heart beats that have grown weary in their pattern. Green and gold that have watched their greatest treasures grow and become, and venture out into the wide open realms of reality. Make their own stories. Find their own adventures. And between them now is nothing but themselves. And how quickly time seems to pass here at the end.

Because he’s been asleep for days now hasn’t he? Drifting in and out. For though barely, he is older and born of more fragile stock. Their children had come to say goodbye. Said their peace, hoarded their memories....and gone. Because once they leave, there will be nothing left for the twins to recover. All of this will fade into the fog, return to the soil of the moors. And they will end where they began. Together.

      “Mo shíor?”

           Tá mé anseo.

Hushed words. No more than gentle breathing in the grand scheme of the world. The feather light shift of the bed as lies down beside him. Slips beneath an arm he’s barely the strength to lift anymore. Settles it about her, and he is grateful that at least she still has the ability. She always was stronger than him, where it mattered most. And there is a depth to how he breathes her in. Pulling every fiber of her that he can manage into his lungs. Drowning in the scent of her, the feel of her beneath his fingers. 

     “Have d’ey gone?”

            Yes, moy volk.

      “Good.”

He will miss them, they are his offspring after all. The legacy he never thought to leave behind him. And while he understands they had wished to remain until the very end--it is better this way. Better he and their mother be remembered by them as they had always been. Not the fading creatures they were now. And as much as he can, his love is drawn closer against him. A kiss to her forehead, that though sweet, is but a ghost of how once he had been able to give the affection.

             Vam kholodno, ya dolzhen poluchit' yeshche odno odeyalo?

        “Uimh.”

A finger beneath her chin. That pulls her face upward, where green catches gold. And the quiet of the room becomes something palpable. Becomes a barrier that pushes the outside world away. Where warmth and coolness, dinner simmering on the stove, the call of birds and the absence of his kin in the wood beyond---can not infiltrate the moment. Where nothing but the sound of their hearts, the winding of their fingers, and the press of their lips to each other’s exists. Because there is little they have left to wonder. Little that words could convey they have not already said. That they don’t already know. And yet still...

       “Spokoynoy nochi, moya postoyannaya.”

            Codladh go maith, mo mhac tíre.

And how silent the affair all is. How gentle and unheralded. Because death--is so much akin to falling asleep. Slow at first, and then all at once. Like the rain outside, that rain drop by rain drop washes them away from this world. An island mourning the passing of its last wolven son, and the little raven that never abandoned him.

[celtfather]

Mingulay Cat Song, Lost Druid Beer Favorites, Closing Store for Buying Nothing Day

Why do cats knock stuff off tables? I think I figured out the answer. I share it with my story and song about the Mingulay Cat Song.

Marc Gunn "There Are No Pubs in Kirkintilloch" from Scottish Songs of Drinking & Rebellion

WELCOME TO PUB SONGS & STORIES

I am Marc Gunn. This is the audio liner notes for the songs I record and play.

The show is brought to you by my Gunn Runners on Patreon. If you enjoy this podcast and my music, please join the Gunn Runners Club. You’ll get something new every week: sheet music, access to Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts, bootleg concerts, behind the scenes photos and videos, and even download songs featured in this show. You get a lot for as little as $5 per month. And you can save 15% with an annual membership. Thanks to my newest Gunn Runners on Patreon: Zak H, Kain T

0:56 - UPCOMING SHOWS

NOV 19: Three Taverns Brewery, Decatur, GA @ 12:00-1:30 PM

NOV 19: Ironshield Brewing, Lawrenceville, GA @ 7:00-10:00 PM

DEC 2: The Lost Druid, Avondale Estates, GA @ 6:30-9:30 PM

JUN 3-10, 2023: Celtic Invasion of County Mayo and Pirate Queen, Ireland

1:34 - CLOSING UP SHOP

I’m doing something different this year. I’m not doing any Black Friday discounts or sales, like all of the marketers encourage musicians to do. I know I’ve done them in the past. But I’ve never been comfortable doing that as you might’ve heard in a past podcast I did about the Ethics of Black Friday.

What it boils down to is that I prefer celebrating the day after Thanksgiving as Buy Nothing Day. A day to fight back against consumerism.

So for that reason, I’m closing down all physical sales on Friday, November 18. If you go to my store on Bandcamp. You will not be able to buy any CDs, shirts, album pins, songbooks or whatever else I have there. You can still buy digital downloads, but everything else will be gone.

I will reopen the story on December 1. But only for a few days. I’ve been considering my environmental impact. Someone suggested that if you only ship products in a shorter time span, it’s better for the environment, which makes sense to me.

2:46 - “Nancy Whiskey” from St Patrick’s Day

4:47 - FAVORITE BEERS FROM THE LOST DRUID

Come join me on Friday, Dec 2 at The Lost Druid Brewery.

10:30 - "There's a Bug in Cabin Six" from As Long as I'm Flyin'

12:43 - WHAT’S NEW?

It’s been eleven since I last posted an episode of the Cat Lovers Podcast. Seems like only yesterday. That’s not true at all. It feels like 11 years. I thought about rebooting it. But I decided instead to do this special feature on Cats and Celtic music.

That’s because I released a new album this year. It’s called Selcouth. Which means when everything is strange and different yet you find it marvelous anyway. It’s also the reason I released a new song on the album which I’ll talk about in a bit.

But first, I want to thank a few of my Celtic Cat Fans on Patreon. I sent out a call and these amazing folks responded.

Don Rice is from Moorhead, MN. He writes: “Definitely a cat lover, as we have owned many. Two currently- Chessie and Napoleon, both Grey striped tabbies. I'm a member of Poitin Band and a sci-fi lover as well.”

You can find them on the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast.

Kelly Melville said: "My 11 year old daughter Lorraine Melville (from Hampton, GA) is the biggest cat and cat song fan in our family. We all are, but she’s the one who has a bunch of your cat songs memorized and sings them to our cat. It would be a super fun surprise to hear her name in the podcast.

She recently lost her first cat that she named White Tickle Ninja when she was 4 because as a kitten he would hide around corners and jump out to attack our toes with his tickly little paws. He loved people, and would run meowing up to everyone he saw, even complete strangers, in the hopes of food or pets. I think he thought he was a dog. He would wag his little stub of a tail when we played with him, pant, and even play fetch with balled socks. Ninja was the boss of the house, but our other cat Sherlock is the sneaky one who figured out how to open doors and one day set off our burglar alarm and brought the cops out to the house."

Marie from Centennial, Colorado said, “My kitty is Annie. She will be 18 in July. I rescued her in August 2020, at age 16 and just under 7 pounds. She is the sweetest little thing and has a voracious appetite! They told me that they didn't think she was hungry but rather just liked to eat. (Really??!!) Well, I took her to a vet for a wellness check, naturally, and she had hypothyroidism pretty badly. We put her on medicine and she has been getting better.

She runs to greet me when I get home from work and sleeps beside me every night. When I'm home doing paperwork or watching TV, she sits in my chair beside me and sprawls out with her front legs over my one leg. See you at DragonCon then Kentucky!”

Finally, Carol Baril keeps the Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers group on Facebook going strong by sharing cat memes. She’s out of Acworth, GA in the Atlanta area. She has a favorite cat video guy on YouTube she watches. “He is my go to guy for all things CATS!”

She shared a video from Jackson Galaxy on playing with your cat!

Check out these Kitties from Annie:

If you want to join these amazing Gunn Runners, join the Club.

16:12 - “Lord of the Pounce” from Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers

20:31 - WHAT’S NEW WITH MY CATS?

Since last I podcasted, my oldest daughter is 12 and my youngest is now 7. Sadly, all four of our cats we had when my wife and I first met have passed away. Rainey was the last one, just last year. Two years ago, we adopted two kittens that a friend found in their apartment parking lot in Birmingham.

Pompeii is an ash-colored tabby boy who’s grown quite enormous. He likes to meow at us at about 4 AM every morning when we don’t lock him up. Though he’s an indoor cat, he loves to run out the back door when he can to take in the sights and smells.

Emmie is his sister. She looks a lot like him except she’s smaller by a third and has brown fur. But their markings are very similar. Emmie loves playing fetch. And if you ever hear me podcasting and a cat starts begging for attention, it’s usually Emmie. She loves to play, but she does not love it when I pick her up. She’s fine when Kenzie picks her up, but not me.

We have two new kittens in our house. A different friend from Birmingham had a cat that just gave birth. Gwen volunteered to help get them adopted. So he brought them over at the end of April. All but one are spoken for. Soooo we decided to keep him.

Thorne Murder Cat Gunn is a black kitten with a little white dot on her chest. She’s a bit more shy than some of the other cats. I’m gonna say that’s because she’s an introvert like the rest of our family.

Emo is an all black boy. He was loving early on. Now he’s a boy cat.

23:37 - Marc Gunn "A Lil Bit O'Love" from The Bridge (Celtic and Folk Music)

28:00 - STORY OF MINGULAY CAT SONG

“Mingulay Cat Song” is by far my favorite cat song to sing. Certainly, I love the original song “Mingulay Boat Song” by Sir Hugh S. Roberton. You can hear the story behind that song in episode #243. Follow the link in the show notes. Unlike many of my cat parody songs, this one stands out in that I love to sing both versions and they are their own unique sound.

I wrote “Mingulay Cat Song” when my oldest daughter, Kenzie, was probably 3 or 4 years old. I think she was in daycare. Every weekday morning, I would feed Kenzie before I took her to school. Then I’d race back home and work as much as I could before I head to pick her up again 4 hours later.

One morning, I remember her sitting in her high chair eating cheerios or some other hand food off the table. She had a sippy cup that she usually drank, first thing. But the morning in question, she only had a tiny bit of the cup before I realized I was gonna miss her drop off time. I quickly gathered her up. Threw her in my arms. Grabbed some shoes. We raced out the door.

I got back 30 minutes later. I took off my shoes, ran up the steps into the living room. I walked into the kitchen to clean up the food she had finished. Squish. My sock was soaked.

And not just soaked. It was sticky soaked. The juice was all over the floor next to the cup. A moment later, Jenga rubbed against my leg and I knew.

If you’ve ever had a cat, you’ve probably experienced something similar. Cats like to knock things over. Plain and simple. Jenga was our knocky-over cat. She was an overweight tuxedo cat. If ever we had an open drink sitting out for more than three minutes, she was not far away.

She passed away several years ago when we moved to Atlanta. We don’t have other cats that actively try to knock over drinks. And yet, we still prefer to use water bottles in our house. That was one of the bizarre consequences of her actions. No open liquid containers left unattended.

I actually get a little neurotic when people take the cap off their water bottles and leave it off. It drives me crazy.

The first two verses of “Mingulay Cat Song” were fairly easy to write. Just use actual experiences, like Kenzie’s juice bottle moment. How many times did we run to the bathroom with a show running and come back to find whatever drink we were drinking now all over the coffee table and floor.

The third verse, however, took a little bit more imagination. My wife likes cold icy water at bedtime. But fortunately, Jenga never knocked over icy water by the bed… But every time, I saw that icy water sitting there and Jenga jumped up on the bed, I just saw it happening in my mind.

But I have seen her try to stick her head in the water so much that I really love adding the “tongue can’t reach it” during the live shows to add a bit more comedy to this serious song.

The final verse attempts to answer WHY cats knock water over. I think most cat fans like to say that their cats are just jerks… which, ye know, has it merits. But I love that add a scientific approach. They are conducting a physics experiment.

And of course the last lines:

“Tap the glass cats, watch it jiggle

If it doesn't tip over, then knock it again”

In mind, are just beautiful comedy.

33:07 - “Mingulay Cat Song” from Selcouth

You can download this song as an MP3 when you join my Gunn Runners on Patreon.

What are you doing while listening to Pub Stories? I’d love your thoughts and feedback. So take a picture of yourself or where you are or what one of these stories reminds you of. Post it on social media. Use the hashtag #pubstories so I can find it and share your story.

Thanks for listening to Pub Songs & Stories. The show was produced by Marc Gunn, edited by Mitchell Petersen with graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. You can subscribe and listen to the regular show wherever you find podcasts. You can also subscribe to my mailing list. You will get regular updates of new music, podcasts, special offers, and you'll get more stories behind several of my most-popular songs.

And of course, please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Have fun and sing along at www.pubsong.com!

#catmusic #catpodcast #catsongs

#pubstories #mingulaycatsong

  Check out this episode!

[author145]

The Pioneer - Chronicles 1

The Pioneer – Chronicles 1

A warm welcome back to all my readers now that my summer sabbatical is over. To begin a new line of stories I have chosen to outline those men and women who were, and are still involved in Ireland’s Poitin making business. Each one of the stories involved in this chronicle is based on true facts, though names have been changed to protect the characters. There will be stories of Poitin men, Poitin…

[greyloch]

An Poitin Stil (monochromatic) A photo from a great Irish restaurant/pub, An Poitin Stil, just north of Baltimore. I got the chance to play around with the "portrait mode" on my iPhone 11 and saved a monochromatic version. I edited the image with Nik Software's Silver Efex Pro to bring out a lot of the structure and textures to the place. #iphone11 #portraitmode #monochromatic #restaurant #lowlightphotography #niksoftwaresilverefex (at An Poitin Stil - The Still) https://www.instagram.com/p/CRDGA4aD_DA/?utm_medium=tumblr

[quantumsnipers]

Mnemophobia

     A body frozen, breath gasped in while orchestral music drifts around him mixed with the quiet chatter and bustle of people. The equivalent of his life flashing before his eyes, the choices that led up to this point in a split second as he could only stare wide eyed in shock….

     Neil’s lips ticked up into a small smirk as he heard the sharp click of a weapon cocking behind his head.  His hands came up next to his head from where he had been closing his front door, at the familiar nudge of a barrel at the base of his skull. He was hardly surprised, returning to a mercenary life as a sniper after Celestial Being had turned his existence on its head, he had up heaved the existing hitman hierarchy overnight. And he had kept it in disarray ever since by failing to align himself with any one side after all this time.  He took only contracts that he saw as fitting with his personal code and since he was the best at his job, he could name his price.  He had a list of people who would love to see him gone, but only a few of the names on that list had the guts to try.  Even fewer who could have gotten in his place without him realizing.

     “Lockon Stratos.”

     The smirk quickly dropped into a frown as his back went ramrod straight. That title and voice efficiently cut straight thru the mental list to a very specific set of people.  None of whom he was particularly looking forward to seeing. He turned his head to glare over his shoulder, disregarding the dangerous press of metal to his head.  Sure enough, a form familiar from memory of fluffed up black hair and tan skin coolly met his gaze from behind the silenced small caliber barrel. His lips thinned in a tight line as he drug his eyes back to the door, knocking it fully closed with his hip before his hands dropped; he pulled the padded strap of his rifle bag from his shoulder and settled the weight of the bag in the corner, wedged between the wall and side table.  

      “That’s not my name anymore, Setsuna.”  He moved farther into his apartment, disregarding the other male tracking him with a steady weapon arm. He pulled the fridge open and grabbed a beer, cocking the bottle questioningly at the younger, and being met with nothing more than his normal impassive stare, shrugged and closed the appliance door. He tapped the lid of the bottle against the side of his counter, popping it off and ignoring the small spilling of carbon fizz as he leaned back against the sink and took a swig.

     “I’m here to bring you back to Ptolemy.” Setsuna’s voice was as bland as Neil remembered, and his lips quirked in a sardonic half smirk against his will at the nostalgia, even as memories flashed behind his eyes of things that ripped the wounds of his mind and heart fresh open. Memories of aubergine and crimson, cold and calculating overlaid with flashes of curious gaze and tentative touch.  

     “Ptolemy was destroyed.” Screams and explosions, decompression and alarms blaring...quiet, distressed words over a com... Things that still haunted his nightmares and that even alcohol couldn’t dull on the worst days.  “And even if it was rebuilt, I left her “crew” and I’m not going back.”  He let his inflection speak for the reference to Celestial Being. Setsuna hadn’t said it, and he may not be planning on going back, but damned if he would turn over a prior ally by lack of discretion.  Never knew who was listening.

     The gun may have already been on him, but the hardening of Setsuna’s gaze at his denial was more concerning, making Neil’s fingers twitch with desire for his own weapons concealed around the apartment.  He took another swig of beer both to appear nonchalant to the other, keep his own concern hidden. He almost froze as Setsuna reached for his pocket but slowly lowered the bottle as he only pulled a piece of paper from an inner pocket.  One handed, Setsuna flicked the folded paper open, and Neil’s eyes narrowed at the picture that was almost like looking in a mirror. He would have assumed that it was his own image, if not for the stats listed underneath.   “Is that a threat, Setsuna?” His voice had gone cold and he was tight as a bowstring, this was a ploy he thought Sumeragi would have better sense than to risk. He knew it had to come from her, Setsuna wasn’t devious enough for this, he’d rather have just shot him.

     “We need a pilot speced to the Dynames class. You are still alive and Sumeragi’s first choice since we have lost contact with Veda’s analyzing process. If you refuse, I have orders to retrieve your twin as he is the only other valid choice that won’t require alterations that take time we don’t have.  He is part of Katharon and will make a suitable replacement.”

     Neil’s gaze flickered from the paper to Setsuna a few times, judging his resolve and, sadly as expected, finding it solid.  He wasn’t bluffing. Neil had his suspicions about his twins extra curricular activities, but lacking the ties he’d had when with Celestial Being, and not wanting his current clients to ferret out any outside attempts to gather intel, lest it be used against him, he had only clung to the hope he was mistaken.  Silently cursing his impulsive estranged sibling, he pushed aside memories of quiet conversations about introducing him someday with “this is classified information” being hissed at him. He quickly failed to hold his stoicism under the memories and new information, all but snarling at the younger male as he cursed and hurled the half-empty bottle against the kitchen wall. Setsuna was holding his weapon two handed, stance steady, when he calmed down enough to turn his attention back to him. Neil scoffed at him, and threw open a cabinet, dragging out a bottle of unlabeled poitin alcohol. He gulped a few swallows of it straight out of the bottle, ripping it away just to gasp a breath and drag the back of his wrist across him mouth.

      His glare was hard as he stalked out of the kitchen, bottle still in hand, stalking straight past the shorter meister.  He didn’t even give the weapon following him a second glace as he slammed open his coat closet and dragged out a duffle bag, throwing a coat, belt-pouch with clips, a couple small ammo boxes, and a .357 torn out from under the coffee table into it, despite Setsuna spiting his code name again in warning. He merely took another swig of the alcohol and stuffed a shirt, pulled from its place hanging over a chair nearby, on top and shoved it all down into the bag. He dragged the strap diagonal over his chest, hauled his rifle bag out of the corner and up on his free shoulder, chugged the remainder of the poitin and slammed the bottle on to the side table as he turned the glare on Setsuna.

     “Put that shite away and take me to Sumeragi.  Your just the messenger boy and I wont let you near my brother, I’ll make her understand myself.”

      The trip back spaceside went without incident physically, though the memories of the last times he had been in space weighed heavily on his mind. Neil kept himself under tight control, all he needed was for Setsuna to decided he was psychologically unfit and make the call to go with his twin after an unfortunate accident.  He held himself together thru the trip to rendezvous and back to the ship.  He left Setsuna behind as he floated thru the halls toward the bridge.  He was met by Sumeragi before he got there, and he followed her without comment to a briefing room.  By the end of their “conversation” there was a minor crowd around the doorway, even Setsuna not willing to intervene despite the random sounds that could easily pass for a knock down drag out fight punctuated by screaming.  When the door finally slid open, and Neil staggered out (a feat considering zero-g weight), he was bleeding from several places and clutching a dislocated shoulder. Sumeragi was worse for wear but it was clear his re-acclimation to zero-g had put him at a sever disadvantage.  He was medicated and returned to his room.

      This, unfortunately, turned out to be a bad idea.  With his body and mind already stressed, he lapsed into the memories of the day they lost the Virtue and he had a minor mental breakdown resulting in the room being trashed.  He was found later by his mech’s Haro and eventually was coaxed out of the room due to re-acclimation training for an upcoming mission while they repaired the suite.  He has never fully readjusted to sleeping in the room, frequently suffering from extreme nightmares, insomnia, and other issues. He, just as often as actually sleeping in the room, was found passed out in a surplus storage room, that in the original Ptolemy had been designed for a certain computer system interface. However, with Veda out of reach, the rebuild design deemed the inclusion of the interface a waste of resources, and as such the space was allocated for extra storage.  

       Having been basically strong armed into rejoining the organization, Neil was much more subdued in his interaction with the crew. Instead of the warm big brother he had been, he was more prone to his mercenary personality being prominent. He secluded himself outside of missions and started to rival Sumeragi in drinking. It didn’t significantly affect his piloting abilities, but it made him distrustful and distant from the others where he used to be a binding front for the crew.  He was always having to be ordered into missions he would have easily done without any prompting before.  As such, when the infiltration mission for the A-Laws ball came up, it was a scene to get him to agree. He eventually relented to the logic that he was the best option for the mission despite his being out of practice.  And, under duress, found himself in a tux and schmoozing with the upper echelon of the government that wanted to keep their own law enforcement in power, as he searched for this elusive ESF leader.

[damianalbarn]

We were going to listen to what this band of Graham's had been doing. They'd just finished recording some new songs. We didn't hit it off straight away, Damon and I. He was wearing a necklace and he still had 'up' hair. No one at college was doing the 'up' hair thing anymore. The first thing I can remember Damon asking me was whether I'd been in a recording studio before. I had to admit I hadn't. They played the songs, which were a bit cheesy. I was relieved about that. We went off to Eddy's house to drink poitin, Irish moonshine made from potatoes. [...]  It was pretty dull and we had to listen to the songs again. They really weren't that great. They were too drama college; they needed to be more art college. Damon asked me what I thought of them, what they sounded like to me, just, you know, as someone who had never been in a recording studio before. Damon was an instantly provocative person. I'd gone along to meet Graham's friend assuming Graham's friend would be similar to Graham, I suppose. They couldn't really have been more different. Damon had buckets of confidence and gumption and he wore sandals. If I'd liked the songs, I would probably have burst into tears, but I told him I thought they weren't quite right, which they weren't. He kind of knew it, really, but he was obviously shocked.

Alex James, Bit of a Blur

[dramstreet]

Ireland’s oldest spirit Poitín has been slowly making a comeback since 1997 when the ban on the liquid was lifted after being forced underground in 1661. This traditional Irish spirit, which pre-dates Irish whiskey, is made with 100% locally sourced malted barley which has been triple distilled in copper pot stills. The result of hundreds of years of secret distilling is a versatile un-aged spirit with smooth characteristics that lend itself to a simple mixed drink just as well as the base of a craft cocktail. Mad March Hare Irish Poitin Tasting Notes Nose- Grain is first and foremost, then a small amount of fermented sweetness squeezes its way alongside when the glass is swirled Palate-  Light and sweet, with gentle notes of honey mixed with a slight bitterness and malt flavor. Finish- A nice little sizzle and heat down the throat leaving an evenly warm feeling, nothing biting.

[pattylifestyleblogger]

The last meal out...Brie and Cold Snap! (at An Poitin Stil - The Still) https://www.instagram.com/p/B920-quAFwe/?igshid=1m5hhpicqslf3

[rickyphoenix]

at An Poitin Stil - The Still https://www.instagram.com/p/B28CtdtFBmC/?igshid=1p49ljbm4l0es

[celtfather]

Folk Yeah! #557

Folk Yeah! There’s a lot of great folk music on the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast.

Poitin Band, Matt & Shannon Heaton, Preab Meadar, Plaid Menagerie, Liesel Wilson, Telenn Tri, Karen Matheson, The Fretless, Three Weird Sisters, Gaelynn Lea, Colleen Raney, Willowgreen, Jeremy Spencer, Jesse Ferguson, The Jeremiahs, Joe Travers/Adam Alexander

I hope you enjoyed this week's show. If you Heard music you loved, share the episode and tag the artist on social. Include the show time so they can quickly listen and enjoy.

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast is here to build our diverse Celtic community and help the incredible artists who so generously share their music with you.

Musicians rely on your support so they can keep creating new music. If music in this show inspired you, you can buy their CDs, digital downloads, shirts, album pins, and other merch. You can follow them on streaming and see their shows. More and more Celtic musicians are on Patreon, just like this podcast. And of course, I always appreciate it when you drop artists an email to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast.

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VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20 FOR 2022

This is our way of finding the best songs and artists each year. You can vote for as many songs and tunes that inspire you in each episode. Your vote helps me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2022 episode.  Vote Now!

THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

0:09 - Poitin Band "Boatsmen/Firemen's Reel" from Banks of Red River

4:10 - WELCOME

5:04 - Matt & Shannon Heaton "Mountain Rambler" from Lovers' Well

7:24 - Preab Meadar "Captain Rock" from Preabmeadar

10:39 - Plaid Menagerie "Captain Horne/In and Out the Harbor/Dinky Dorian's" from Plaid Menagerie

14:08 - Liesel Wilson "Sheain Bhain" from The Path

16:03 - FEEDBACK

19:36 - Telenn Tri "Cup of Tea / Ships are Sailing" from Macquarie Street

24:45 - Karen Matheson "Orphan Girl" from Still Time

29:40 - The Fretless "Holton Alan Moore’s" from Live from the Art Farm

33:23 - Three Weird Sisters "Pole Star" from Hair of the Frog

37:38 - Gaelynn Lea "Swinging On a Gate" from All the Roads That Lead Us Home

40:56 - Colleen Raney "Stand Up for Love" from Here This Is Home

44:32 - THANKS

46:45 - The Gatehouse Well “Madness Never Leaves” from Undone

51:06 - Jeremy Spencer "Jigs: The Solstice / The Crow's Caw" from The Lion's Head

54:22 - Jesse Ferguson "Peter Street" from Sailor Songs

57:13 - The Jeremiahs "Plough and Stars" from The Femme Fatale of Maine

1:01:00 - CLOSING

1:02:12 - Joe Travers/Adam Alexander "Weeping Moon" from The Perfect Pint

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. The show was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather. Subscribe through your favorite podcatcher or on our website where you can become a Patron of the Podcast for as little as $1 per episode. Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

WELCOME CELTOPHILE TO CELTIC MUSIC

* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. I am Marc Gunn. I’m a musician and podcaster. I want to introduce you to some amazing Celtic bands and musicians.

The artists in this show need your support, which you can do by buying their music. You can find a link to all of the artists, show times and chapters for each song when you visit our website at celticmusicpodcast.com. You can also support this podcast on Patreon.

WHAT’S NEW IN IRISH & CELTIC MUSIC: BEST OF 2022

Two weeks after the episode is launched, I compile the latest Celtic Top 20 votes to update a playlist on Spotify, Amazon Music, and YouTube. These are the results of your voting. You can help these artists out by following the playlists and adding tracks you love to your playlists. Subscribe to our newsletter to find out who was added this week.

Listen on Spotify, Amazon Music, and YouTube.

START PODCASTING

Podcasting is a fun way to share a message and spread ideas. I’ve hosted my podcasts with Libsyn since the start. It’s the best place to host your podcast. So why not share your love of Celtic music and culture.

Sign up through my link and you can support this podcast as well.

Oh! And drop me an email if you’d like some hints on how to make a successful podcast.

BUY SELCOUTH BY MARC GUNN

My latest CD features Sci F’Irish music. That means it is original songs fusing pop culture themes with Irish drinking songs. There are some traditional music on the album. But mostly, it features songwriting by Marc Gunn with guests including: Screeched Inn, The Muckers, Jamie Haeuser, Sam Gillogly, Nathan Deese, and Mikey Mason.

Selcouth means, “when everything is strange and different, yet you find it marvelous anyway.”

The album is not completely Celtic and it’s not just science fiction and fantasy. It’s a fusion of the two. It’s heartfelt and a lot of fun.

It’s now on sale in my Bandcamp store. Check out Selcouth now.

THANK YOU PATRONS OF THE PODCAST!

Because of Your kind and generous support, this show comes out at least four times a month. Your generosity funds the creation, promotion and production of the show. It allows us to attract new listeners and to help our community grow.

As a patron, you hear episodes before regular listeners, vote in the Celtic Top 20, and a private feed to listen to the show.  That’s for as little as $1 per episode.

For higher pledges, you can also get music - only episodes, free MP3s, and stand - alone Celtic Stories when you become a Song Henger.

A special thanks to our newest Patrons of the Podcast: Danna H and Samuel S

HERE IS YOUR THREE STEP PLAN TO SUPPORT THE PODCAST

Go to SongHenge.com. That takes you to our Patreon page.

Decide how much you want to pledge every week, $1, $5, $10. Make sure to cap how much you want to spend per month.

Keep listening to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast to celebrate Celtic culture through music.

You can become a generous Patron of the Podcast on Patreon at SongHenge.com.

TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS

Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through its culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos. Learn more about the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/

#celticmusic #irishmusic #celticmusicpodcast

I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? You can send a written comment along with a picture of what you're doing while listening.

Email a voicemail message to celticpodcast@gmail.com

Kerry Berry emailed: "Hi Marc, thanks for your latest update. Thank you for all you do for Celtic music.Just letting you know Highlander  -  Celtic Rock Band Australia have just released a new album called “Start The Fire” I believe it is able to be heard on both Spotify and also on Youtube."

Rey Glunt emailed: "Hey Marc!! Just want to let you know first of all that I love the show!! I walk our dog a lot and it’s about all I listen to on our strolls. My dads side of the family is predominantly Scottish and my moms side is all Irish so the Celtic blood runs deep in me. I love so much variety it’s hard to mail it down to five favorites but I’ll do my best and in no particular order. Cherish The Ladies, Across The Pond, The Pogues, The Cheiftains, and The Dubliners.

I also help a friend of mine with his entertainment company, Shenanigator Entertainment. It gives me a chance to be behind the scenes to promote Celtic music and help out at festivals and concerts."

Check out this episode!