Silkie McDonough

Just wanted to pose a question. What if someone were to want o be a renaissance pirate would they be able to have their own camp also? For instance, I think it would be grand to portray Grace O'Malley but she is earlier than the GAoP (1530-1603). Would something like that be accepted? Not in either of the existing camps but an additional camp within the fort? Pirates have been around for centuries. Julius Ceasar was kidnaped by Pirates and held for ransom. If someone wished to be a 'roman' pirate would they be accepted in the fort?

Yesterday was lost. Murin had awakened her mouth dry, throat sore and her head pounding from partaking of more wine than was best for her. She tried to sit up in her hammock but found the effort painful. She tried to fall asleep again but the throbbing in her head made additional rest impossible. She slowly sat up in her hammock, placing her bare feet on the cool wooden deck. Meg. Meg Wardell had assisted her into the hammock after the gathering with the ladies. Miss McDonough leaned forward her right elbow on her knee, her hand rubbing her forehead as her stomach rolled with the waves. She had no idea what time it was. Daylight from above made its way down the steps to the lower deck. Miss McDonough yawned and the pain in her head felt as though it would burst open her skull. Water, water helps. The water stores were still relatively fresh. She staggered to the stairs and dragged herself toward the light; each step could be felt in her head. It was here that Nathan greeted her. “There’s my sleeping beauty, decided to join the crew again?” Murin squinted at the lad, “I’d b’happy t’join d’livin fer now.” she grumbled in return and continued her trek upward. At the top of the flight she clung to the post on the landing in a vain attempt to calm her stomach. “A bit too much?” he inquired. “Aye” He offered his arm, “May I assist?” She gratefully accepted. Nathan, always her protector, just as Fionn had been, saw that she ate something and drank as much water as she could stomach. He left her in the galley. She tripped to the head to relieve herself and returned to find Nathan sitting at the table. In his hand he held a folded paper packet of white powder, “From the Doctor;” he proceeded to dump it into her drink and stir. “Drink.” The taste was unpleasant but she managed to drink the full tankard ending with a barely stifled belch. Nathan grinned and let her finish her light fare while he filled the tankard with water once more. He then insisted on escorting her back to her hammock and would not leave until she was safely in her hammock. How many hours she slept she knows not. Hushed voices of others in the berth came to her attention as she emerged from unconsciousness. Experimentally she turned her head. The pain had subsided, her stomach calmed. Yes, today was already better. She lay there only a moment before she realized that it was the urgent need to use the head that had awakened her. She stumbled in the near dark finding her way to her destination. Once relieved she went topside. The dark on the horizon was giving way to dawn. Miss McDonough looked to the front of the ship. The shadow of the Heron danced against the lightening sky. Behind, the Maastricht limped along. Nathan Bly who was on watch caught the lass’ eye and beckoned her to join him at his station. “You look much better lass.” “I feel mouch betta! Tank ya fer yer assistance yes-t’day.” "As always is my pleasure." He gently tucked a stray lock behind her ear. Murin laughed, "Ya need not baby me Fionn, ah," she shook her head, "Nathan. I managed to o'r imbibe on m'own. Tis nil yer responsibility lad. Buot I do appreciate yer efforts yesterday." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Wot bell b'it?" "Three of the morning watch." She looked up to the fore top lookout hoping to see Siren but it was the Starboard watch and the lookout there was a lad she had not yet met. Beyond the mast she could see that the day would be clear and bright. Her heart was light. "I best leave you to your watch, I'd nil wont t'get ya in a bad spot wit d'oficers." and she turned to leave. "Will we be sharing our morning meal?" "I'll sit n'eat wit ya buot I'll not share m'rations ...I've nil ate a full day!" She laughed lightly and winked at the lad as he watched her walk away. She began to hum a tune as she headed to the quarterdeck, She had decided to try her hand at reading the navigational tools once again.

My dear Lady, I can not know how you and yours greive, for you have had the gift of love taken from you once again. My thoughts and prayers are with you and yours.

I must both agree and disagree with Captain Tightpants. The Bodhran was indeed not used in traditional music until the 1950's. I have both read, and have been informed by several knowledgeable traditional musicians and the heirs of some of those originally recorded. Sean nós is sung a cappella in competitions. Traditional Irish singing competitions are also a cappella and were invented to create interest in the music of the Irish Heritage. As a vocalist It is difficult to find traditional tunes that date back far enough but who is to say that a sea shanty, sung in the style of a traditional Irish tune was not used? That having been said, the drum as the voice has been around for time untold and although the drum is not used in sean nós or traditional Irish tunes sung in English I challenge anyone to try to not beat on a table or tap their toe along with a fiddle tune. So I say, why not a drum? Todays recordings are very different from what would be considered traditional. Both in the Irish genera and in sea shanties. A sea shanty sung at the correct cadence for work would not entertain an audience. An entire concert of sean nós would not entertain the average audience for long. Sean nós seems to be used often as a filler to spell the 'band' and dancers. As with all things GAoP, records are difficult to find and trace. The discussion would be unending. It all goes back to is the event juried and how strict are the rules on THAT particular encampment. Additionally, what is used when the public is viewing an encampment may be relaxed when the public is abed and the music commences.

Nothing piraty but I did get to see my Father out of the nursing home and in my sisters house. THAT was the best gift could have asked for.

Now that I actually have garb! Next ...waistcoat ...no linen shirt ...bodice?

Jack ...Siren ...Looks to me to be a good start to the new year for Jack is indeed an attractive lad and wot a beauty Siren'b! Now as a lass uv "above average" build, I'm wonderin if any uv dees lass' would'b any larger den a size 20? :) I'm ulso wonderin' if any lass larger den say a 14 would be sendin photo's in ...I'm open so. Dere should be a variety o'sizes and boat lads and lass'

Here is the true tell ...who does the clean up?

To sing. To join voices with others and create music. To laugh histerically at the simpelest things. laughter to the point of tears. To walk in the quite wood. Surprisingly, after so many years of hating written assignments in school. I have discovered a passion for writing. Finishing a pencile portrait. Finishing any work of art.

Thank you luv!

Well what I lack in what they call intellegence I more than make up for in talent, charm and beauty!

Appiest o'days t'ya lass. Oapin' d'rhum keeps flowin' n'da booty is plentiful!

As the meal continued and wine poured liberally around the table Miss McDonough continued to feel more comfortable, less her self, or was it more her old self. She noted that the others in the room used proper manners like those she had seen while working in the plantation house, save Meg. Between the tutoring that Kate had given her and from observation while serving she found herself affecting the same airs with little effort. In the back of her mind, just at the edge of wine tinged thoughts, this troubled her. She mused that these women, so bold and strong were just as pretentious as the lords and ladies of the British court that use to view the native born Irish as lesser beings. She then recalled the vision of the Dutch colors falling to the deck after the sharp blade of the captain’s steward brought them down. Thoughts of Siren perched high above the fray, a deadly guardian angel. Doctor Fitzgerald fervently working to save as many as she could, turning none away. Her thoughts continued on each female crew member until she was rethinking her position. The actions of these women spoke louder than their courtly behavior. Meg even displayed a vague air of courtly manners in this setting; perhaps the wine was to blame. Murin giggled. Siren again tried her song. Meg chiming in with the correct words but her voice was such that the tune was nearly unrecognizable. Doctor Fitzgerald seemed preoccupied with thoughts beyond the walls of the room. Tudor continued to be the quintessential hostess. Murin’s thoughts strayed to the male members of the crew, she wondered if the lads were on deck having a grand time of it as well. She had grown fond of Nathan; he was much like her brother Finn. Today seemed a bit odd, having Nathan around with Billy gone to the Heron. Mister Lasseter now the captain of the fleet cutter. She sighed, that was a lovely ship, and she found joy in watching her cross the horizon in front of the Watch Dog time and time again. Mister Gage had outdone himself yet again and the ladies continued to enjoy the food with what seemed to be an endless supply of wine. Murin herself was use to the taste of ale. The wine though a pleasant enough bouquet was effecting her more than she may have thought. Quite improperly and rather loudly she lifted her glass "To Cap'n Brand!" she did not give the others the opportunity to reply, "an'is collection o'whimen!" She gasped as soon as she heard the words spill from her lips. An uneasy silence filled the room, conversation and song halted abruptly; Miss McDonough's blushed a bright red, surprised glances were exchanged by all but Murin who hung her head as she cringed in embarrassment. Tudor and Tempest locked eyes. Whether it was simply to break the tension, or at the humor of the situation, or perhaps that he had managed to collect an unusual percentage of women for his crew and the thought had crossed their minds more than a few times in the past year, the two let sly smiles turn up the corner of their mouths. Smiles turned to grins and grins to giggles as all shared knowing glances. And soon all were laughing heartily. Infectious laughter filled the space. What tension may have existed previously had been broken and some bond, however tenuous had been created.

My dear Captain Bo! I ...errr, Vixen, would never have complained about BLITZED's advances. She would have gave as good as she got! So he must have been fired for drunk flying.

Midway through the first Dog watch Murin was summoned to the great cabin of the Watch Dog. She had taken time to wash, something that required one more hand than available to be done properly but the lass managed to keep the dressing on the bad hand dry, facing Doctor Fitzgerald with the dressing in less than perfect condition was something best avoided at this point. Miss McDonough donned the over sized shirt and breeches acquired from the deceased rescuer on LaBanquilla in favor of the torn and blood stained clothing she had worn in battle. She then shrugged on the over sized brown waistcoat that Monsieur Chanault had acquired for her the day after her arrival on board cinching it at the waist with the sword belt. Once at the door of the great cabin she sheepishly peeked in the open door. Mr Gage stood at the table speaking with Miss. Smith about the meal and what food was yet to come. Laid on the table was a feast unlike any Murin had ever partaken. She had served such meals but to sit at the table and sup with the woman of the ship ...her mind flew over the waves to her home her mother, and the women she had grown up watching and emulating. Women of power and determination, strength and wisdom. She recalled that she too was once a woman determined to make a change in her world. The past three years had been spent trying to be unseen. What had happened to the lass that had fought beside her love for what was rightly theirs? Murin knew her former self remained within her. That lass had boarded the Maastricht just yesterday, fought along side the crew of the Watch Dog. Siren arrived and stood at Murin's elbow for a moment then Tudor beckoned them "Come, sit." Murin managed a weak smile as she shuffle forward silently.

Now Bo, ifin I remember correctly I was t'ask Blonde Wench ifin I was wantin a kiss frum ya. SO ... Blonde Wench! Ken I give yer lad a big hug and kiss t'welcome him back? I promise: ...no groppin ...I'm a good gerl ...I am!

More photos on Callahans site! Callahan Digital Art Photo Gallery OR...Try the home page.

Cap'n Bo goode lad! Tis a pleasure t'see ya ere! Wot a grand day indeed! céad míle fáilte!

Delaware ...small wonder. Small wonder that there is always construction on their stretch of 95! Small wonder why the toll booths are ALWAYS backed up! Small wonder ...oops. Hope you like it there.

Hmmmm, just because I like to move the nativity pieces around? You Are Vixen Sexy and sultry, you're the one all the other reindeer dream about. Why You're Naughty: That fur pulling spat you got into with Dancer over Santa. Why You're Nice: Because even when you're nice, you're still delightfully naughty! Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You? http://www.blogthings.com/whichofsantasrei...deerareyouquiz/

DUCK! Silkie stoops behind the nearest support beam in anticipation of the pies and double-entendres that are about to start flying in through the air.

It can be deadly if not handled properly also!

Charlie 4 here ...a loved loon. Story of my existence. :) :)

Many do lass but only one holds his heart ...and I wouldn't cross her if I were you!

Wait until you see some of the photo shoots! The man promised he would have something I would like of myself ...we shall see. ::hurumpf::