The unicorn is Scotland's national animal

I just learned the unicorn is the official national animal of Scotland, symbolizing purity, innocence, masculinity, and power in Celtic* mythology.  Featured on the Scottish royal coat of arms since the 12th century, it represents strength and independence.

Celtic* mythology believed unicorns represent innocence and purity while also being associated with chivalry, pride, and boldness.  The first recorded use of a unicorn symbol was in the twelfth century when it was adopted by William I on the Scottish Royal Coat of Arms.  The unicorn is depicted chained (see below) to symbolize the Scottish monarchy's power to tame such a wild beast.

I am surprised I have never run across this information.  I am part Scottish and was called "a bonnie wee lassie" as a child.  I am descended from the Campbells of Argyll clan, whose tartan is shown HERE.

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* The word "Celtic" used in two sentences above mainly refer to "speakers of Celtic languages" rather than to one ethnic group.

Two things to ponder today

Everyone stops to speak to me, because I get to know everyone around me, even those who come into our Circle@Crown Café from the neighborhoods around here.  A man who was teaching a lawyer how to play chess had moved away years ago (to Portland, Oregon, he told me).  Anyway, I was sitting at the table nearest the door, waiting for another resident who would be coming to join me in a few minutes.  The guy I had spoken to only a few times is in town visiting and came over to tell me that bagpipes used to be considered weapons of war.

Well, that certainly felt like it came out of nowhere.  Does he think I'm Scottish because my name is Bonnie?  Well, I am actually part Scottish.  I'm descended from the Campbells of Argyll, whose kilt is this blue-and-green color pattern with a little yellow and white and black thrown in.  I've never worn a kilt or talked to that man about them.

Anyway, he went back to a couple of people at his table playing (or maybe learning from him how to play) chess, and my friend joined me.  When I got home a couple of hours later, I did look up that "fact" he shared with me and learned that "until 1996, the British government considered bagpipes to be a bona fide weapon of war."  Check out the info HERE.  But still, what a weird "fact" for him to share.

Make Waves at Your Library

Today, I'm wearing a blue tee shirt that has this slogan across the top, with waves breaking across the top like a blue ocean with white waves.  Since I live in the middle of a big country (in St. Louis), this is the only "ocean" I'll see today.

Musing about a tartan and another book

Tartan Day

Oops!  I just learned that April 6th was Tartan Day 2023.  I'm part Scottish, and I know that I'm descended from the Campbells of Argyll.  That means any kilt in my family would be made from this blue-and-green color pattern that has a little yellow and white and black thrown in.  I like it!  I probably have more blues and greens in my closet than any other colors.  Tartan Day is a North American celebration of Scottish heritage on the 6th of April, the date on which the Declaration of Arbroath was signed in 1320.  It originated in Canada in the mid-1980s and spread to other communities of the Scottish diaspora in the 1990s.  And now I know about it, too.

The Beautiful Struggle ~ by Ta-Nehisi Coates, 2008, memoir, 240 pages

An exceptional father-son story from the National Book Award–winning author of Between the World and Me about the reality that tests us, the myths that sustain us, and the love that saves us.

Paul Coates was an enigmatic god to his sons:  a Vietnam vet who rolled with the Black Panthers, an old-school disciplinarian and new-age believer in free love, an autodidact who launched a publishing company in his basement dedicated to telling the true history of African civilization.  Most of all, he was a wily tactician whose mission was to carry his sons across the shoals of inner-city adolescence — and through the collapsing civilization of Baltimore in the Age of Crack — and into the safe arms of Howard University, where he worked so his children could attend for free.

Among his brood of seven, his main challenges were Ta-Nehisi, spacey and sensitive and almost comically miscalibrated for his environment, and Big Bill, charismatic and all-too-ready for the challenges of the streets.  The Beautiful Struggle follows their divergent paths through this turbulent period, and their father’s steadfast efforts — assisted by mothers, teachers, and a body of myths, histories, and rituals conjured from the past to meet the needs of a troubled present — to keep them whole in a world that seemed bent on their destruction.

With a remarkable ability to reimagine both the lost world of his father’s generation and the terrors and wonders of his own youth, Coates offers readers a small and beautiful epic about boys trying to become men in black America and beyond.

Two TWOsday ads

I like to play Solitaire online.  Yesterday, I looked up the tartan for the Campbells of Argyll clan so I could show the pattern and colors in a blog post.  Today, as I played Solitaire, up popped TWO ads from a company wanting to sell me a kilt.  Specifically, the two identical ads showed me a kilt made from the Campbells of Argyll tartan.  Coincidence much?  No, I don't think so, either.  I am getting concerned that Big Brother (and Big Business) knows more of the who, what, and where about me than I like.

A wee visit to Scotland

This morning, my friend Barbara posted this terrible pun on Facebook, saying, "This is something that you should enjoy!"  I don't know whether or not she meant that for me (I'll ask her later), but it fits.  I am, after all, the punster who has been covering the bulletin board by the elevators on my floor with groan-worthy puns.  I'll probably print off this little mouse in a tartan (or is it a hamster?) and post it, too.

Anyway, I left this comment on Barbara's Facebook post to say I do enjoy the pun:

Aye, it's right up my alley.  Or should I say, "It's right up my loch"?  A loch is a lake, over there in Scotland, like Loch Ness.  My kilt would be made from the tartan of the Campbells of Argyll, from whom I'm descended.  Want to see the tartan?  Here 'tis.

This blue-and-green color pattern, with a little yellow and white and black thrown in, is something I would actually wear.  I like blues and greens.  I probably have more blues and greens in my closet than any other colors.

And here's a picture of Inveraray Castle, the principal family seat of the Dukes of Argyll.  See how easily I can get lost when I start meditating on these things?  From puns, to Scotland, to kilts and tartans, to castles, and now, one more thing.  The music, of course!  For my purposes, it only makes sense that I share "The Campbells Are Coming."  Click the link to listen to the music, played on bagpipes, which is where we started up above.  Remember?  Here are the words to the chorus, from the Wikipedia article which has all the verses, as well:

The Campbells are coming, Ho-Ro, Ho-Ro!
The Campbells are coming, Ho-Ro, Ho-Ro!
The Campbells are coming to bonnie Lochleven.
The Campbells are coming, Ho-Ro, Ho-Ro!

Oh, you noticed "bonnie" in there?  Yes, I was a bonnie wee lassie when I realized my name was a word.  According to various sources, "bonnie" means "good" or "attractive."  Was I always "good"?  Of course not!  I'm no longer a wee lass, either.  But maybe it was my name that has made me feel more Scottish than the French, Irish, and English that's also in my genes.  Tell me about your family history.

I had to come back and share this photo I found on the Inveraray Castle site.  I didn't see it earlier because it's on the page about how to get there, and I won't be going there any time soon.  Probably never.  Isn't this a great view?