#st. gobnait

[hollytron]

Saint Gobnait window in the Honan Chapel, Cork, Ireland (1914)

Patron saint of bee keepers 🐝💞

[frecht]

for our intro assignment for my summer class we have to find four images that are "of visual interest" which already means kinda absolutely nothing right. and then one of them is "from social media" but art and nature are two other categories so like what else would i find on social media that is visually interesting that i can turn in for an assignment???? other problem is that i can only do 1 image from artwork. and the other inherent problem from that is that literally there is not a SINGLE good photo of harry clarkes st gobnait window from the honan chapel online. i could put a photo of a fragment plus my awful photo or the slightly less awful one from wikipedia plus the corning museum of glass's scan of the sketch and say imagine these together as one full thing i guess. or i could pick a different piece. but thats the one thats really calling to me...

[catholic-saint-tournament]

St Gobnait sent bees after people she didn't like and St Kevin was so popular he had to keep moving because people kept building monasteries around this hermit. #irishsaintsmybeloveds

Both are brand new saints for the pre-schism list! they'll need more propaganda to make it to the bracket!!

(btw friends, the ask box is closed for now. It will open back up for the next round. we're doing folk/traditional saints first)

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in Irish History | 16 March:

In the liturgical calendar, today is the Feast Day of Abbán moccu Corbmaic. He was associated, first and foremost, with Mag Arnaide (Moyarney or Adamstown, near New Ross, Co Wexford) and with Cell Abbáin (Killabban, Co Laois). However, he was also connected to other churches elsewhere in Ireland, notably that of his alleged sister Gobnait. 1559 – Death of Anthony St Leger; he was a politician and…

[holocene-sims]

OC Interview Questions - Nature - For Grant please!

🌹 [ROSE] Does your OC believe in true love? Why?

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?

hello!! thank you so much for the ask ❤️ and apologies for taking a bit longer to get to this! the start of the week was busier for me than expected

🌹 [ROSE] Does your OC believe in true love? Why?

yes and no! if you asked grant, he would tell you yes and he'd prove it by pointing out his grandparents' marriage. aoife and joseph are the shining example of true love in his eyes because they (1) have a deep understanding of who each other is and don't need words to know what the other is thinking or feeling, (2) have managed to stick together through the horrors like poverty and sickness and death, and (3) never lost the cozy, youthful magic of the honeymoon phase of love. however, just because he believes it exists doesn't mean he thinks it's possible for him. grant is pretty convinced true love is always going to evade him, at least in a romantic sense, maybe even in a platonic sense. it's hard for him to imagine anyone choosing to love him fully, but he doubts friendly and romantic true love far more than familial true love.

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

this is a great question because this is coming up soon in the story (aka whenever i get a break in my uni semester to add more to my queue) grant is, i would say, generally appreciative of nature, but he's a deeply sentimental person, so anywhere that carries traces of nostalgia or reminds him of someone he loves is going to be breathtaking for him. i'll drop a little mild spoiler and name one specific one: st. gobnait's shrine/forest in ireland

🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?

when i think of cruises, i always think of beach-y destinations first, but grant really does not like going to the beach very much because he hates having to wear exposing clothing oop 💀 so i think he'd be more of the type to go on a cruise through alaska or iceland! he would enjoy that more. plus, it's colder in both of those locations, so he has an excuse to continue wearing pants and long-sleeves

[muirneach]

omg i can’t believe today is the feast day of st gobnait when i was literally listening to a podcast about bees in irish folklore today…. the stars aligned

[maevefinnartist]

which one of you shared that thing about St. Gobnait last year and her possible connection with the Brehon Law tract about beekeeping? I ran my mouth and now someone is asking for sources and I can't find it ugh

[bitchyrexy]

went to confession today and i feel so pure again. Now I’m gonna get my nana to go to st gobnaits church to light a candle for my mocks. And also study for the rest of the day.

[randomtimes-com]

St Gobnait - the patron saint of bees and beekeeping

February 11 is celebrated St Gobnait’s Feast Day, patron saint of bees, beekeepers, and iron workers. Unlike other saints, there were no hagiographies written about her life during the medieval period, so much of what we know of her comes from popular folklore. Tradition and links with St Abbán, associated with Ballyvourney, a village in southwest County Cork, the largest and the southernmost…

[lethal-liability]

St. Bernardo of Corleone

St. Gobnait

(Because she supposedly sent a swarm of bees after a man who stole cattle from her Abbey)

St. Hemma of Gurk

St. Jane Frances de Chantal

St. Januarius

(Patron of vampires as far as I'm concerned)

I'd look for more but scrolling through Wikipedia is getting tiring lol

I ❤️ catholic saints with extremely specific patronage

St Benedict of Nursia

[oldirishmonasticsuggestions]

Take a little honey from the bees in those beehives you set up earlier. Be sure to leave them enough honey to last the winter. Be kind to them.

[badolmen]

real talk, when did shit get really real for the botanist when the woods began to take over?

👀 well since you asked and I’m incapable of answering anything normally...

There was a time when Aleks liked cutting down small trees by hand, when they found peace in hacking down stems no wider than their wrists. Now it was a tedious chore, a daily reminder of how quickly their world was changing. Their axe cleaved another tree to its stump, but the fast growing plant needed a push to reach the ground.

At the very least, they would never have a shortage of firewood so long as the forest kept this pace.

“Run out of gas again?” Even though the voice was familiar, the botanist couldn’t help but tense their grip on the axe in their hands. These were dangerous times.

“I’m saving it for the generator. From the sounds of it they won’t be getting the power lines back up any time soon.” Aleks explained, picking up their discarded jacket and tucking it under their arm.

“I heard the same.” Kalina sighed wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“What are you doing here? Not that I – not that, uh, I don’t enjoy the company, but you usually send a message.” The botanist asked, walking around to the front of their home with the nun.

“That’s actually why I’m here,” She said, voice soft. “The birds won’t fly over the woods. We’ve tried everything. They’re afraid.”

“Everyone is,”

“Come now, you know better than anyone that those birds would rather fly from here to the village than stay cooped up in their nests under any other circumstances.” The nun said, shaking her head as she looked at the where the sun peeked between gathering clouds. “Just, come look at them. Sister Ada thought they might be broody but…better safe than sorry.”

“You’re right about that. Give me a minute and we’ll be on our way,”

The pair walked through the woods, weaving between trees and occasionally glancing at the dark canopy above. Aleks pretended not to notice when Kalina held their arm, sticking closer to the botanist as they followed the overgrown trail deeper into the woods.

There were whispers of men going mad in the village, abandoning homes and taking up the role of brutal savages deep in the woods, somehow surviving the horrors of night without light or fire. But no such savages had made it this far north in the woods, as far as they knew.

“…There’s also the bees, which are as strange as the birds these days.” Kalina continued, listing the news from the past week. Sister Sonia had spent every waking moment in the shrine, while Mother Hedwig assured the sisters that they were safe within the abbey. The priest, Father Kos, had left to the Archbishop in the east just two weeks ago, to bring concern for the forest to wider authorities.

“I meant to ask you about that – the hive in my greenhouse has been in a swarm mood despite the season.”

“Same with ours. The east hives have already swarmed – we can’t find the new colony, not that we’ve looked far.” Kalina paused as the steeple of the abbey came into view between the tree crowns. “Do you think it’s the trees?”

“If it is, I don’t understand how. Not yet.”

The pair walked through the open gardens, other nuns hacking away at the encroaching woods with axes sharper and larger than Aleks’ own.

“Sister, for the hearth.” A nun addressed Kalina, handing her a basket of tinder branches. “Mother wishes to speak with you, now that you’re back.”  

“Of course, Maria,” Kalina took the basket and pulled Aleks toward the abbey gates. “The birds are in the steeple, do you remember –”

“I know the way, meet me there.”

The familiar stonework of the abbey that was usually busy with song and clergy lay dusty and silent, save for the occasional cough and quiet murmur of the nuns. Another sound was missing from the empty building – the typical cooing of doves no longer echoed from the tower above, even as Aleks climbed the spiraling stone stairs.

The steeple held nothing but feathers and dead doves.

“Christ the King,” They muttered, picking up one of the limp birds, still warm to the touch but no hum of life under its skin.

“What’s – oh Lord,” Kalina stepped beside the botanist, peering over their shoulder. “What happened to them? They were fine, well, mostly fine this morning…” She reached past them to pry a still twitching bird from its nest. “It’s…it’s having a hard time breathing.”

Aleks had set one of the dead birds on the ground, knife steady as Kalina whispered prayers and comforts to the dying animal in her hands. Birds never bled much, and that they were grateful for as they sliced through the delicate skin and easily cracked the fragile ribcage.

“We’ve never burned candles up here…and its so well ventilated here in the steeple, I don’t know how…” There was a whimper from Kalina, Aleks hardly hearing her soft whisper. “Oh, I’m sorry little one.”

“It wasn’t anything you burned,” Aleks said, eyes seeing but brain struggling for an explanation of how they were seeing what lay before them in blood and feathers. Kalina crouched to their level, still cradling the dead bird to her chest.

“Fuck…” She breathed, though she briefly made the sign of the cross. “What in the name of God is that?”

“It…it looks like a mycelial mat, but, but somehow growing…filling the lungs.” Aleks was not thrilled by the thoughts swirling in their mind. “Where did you last send a bird?”

“East, to…to Father,” Her dark eyes were searching for meaning in the dead animals around them. “The bird never delivered its letter…”

“What are you two – doing…up here?” Sister Ada’s harsh tone faded as she saw the birds and the blood. Aleks sprung up to their feet.

“I need to talk to Mother Hedwig, now.”

---

“Are you sure you’re alright to walk home by yourself?” Kalina’s smile was honest, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Now that’s a question I haven’t heard since university,” Aleks said, trying to force their own smile to match. “I’ll be fine. Thank you and the Sisters for letting me stay the night.”

“Alright,” She tucked a stray curl of hair beneath her habit, eyes unfocused as she stared across the gardens where the other nuns were already at work tending the vineyard and attacking the ever growing woods. 

“Hey,” The botanist said, leaning into her. “At least your bees are okay. A little confused about the season, but they’ll settle down once we get a hard freeze.”

“You’re right, you’re right…” Kalina sighed, leaning against them. “Let me know how your hive is doing once you get down the greenhouse,”

“Will do. Might take a bit longer if I have to catch the Courier and convince her to head up your way.” The botanist said, standing from the abbey steps and stretching. “I’ll visit again soon,”

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in Irish History | 11 February:

In the Liturgical calendar today is the Feast Day of St Gobnait, also known as Gobnat or Mo Gobnat, a medieval, female saint whose church was Móin Mór, later Bairnech, in the village of Ballyvourney (Baile Bhuirne), Co Cork. She was associated with the Múscraige and her church and nunnery lay on the borders between the Múscraige Mittine and Eóganacht Locha Léin. 1177 – John de Courcy’s army…

[please-dont-pet-the-okapi]

excuse me please may i see the memes related to irish monasticism because i'm extremely curious about them now

Here you are, anon!

(I know St. Patrick wasn’t a monk, but his missionary work in Ireland was instrumental in the rise of monasticism in Ireland, so I thought this meme fit the category.)

More Insular Christianity memeing can be found at my sideblog, @oldirishmonasticsuggestions!

[maxilgal]

You should be able to change your Confirmation name. The Vatican should have a form or something

[tinyshe]

St Gobnait

St. Gobnait (Irish for Deborah or Abigail), the patroness of Beekeepers and healers, is celebrated in Ballyvourney, a small town in West Cork.   Her Feast Day is February 11th.