My partner and I bought our first home together earlier this year. After years of living in rented accommodation where even moving furniture is problematic, far less painting walls or heaven forbid actually removing furniture, we’re happily living in something of a white box, with everything being entirely of our choosing.
Shortly after moving in, I took delivery of an antique bureau given to me as a present by my parents for my 21st birthday. It’s installed in a corner of the spare room, and hanging above it the only thing we have up on the walls: an old printers tray.
It’s not yet filled – I don’t think it will be for some years – but each filled space represents a walk, visit or holiday somewhere special. I think it’s quite nice to look at – of course I do, I’ve chosen everything that’s in it – bit more importantly it’s a collection representing places, landscapes and the people I experienced them with.
I enjoy staring up at it as I work at my bureau, trying to piece together where everything has come from and considering future additions.
Some of my favourite pieces:
–Conan mara – sea urchin
–Faochag – Periwinkles, wilks
Fuh-chag. The -ao here is not easily replicated, as it’s just not a sound that exists in English. It’s somewhere between the sounds duh and doo. The -ch is always pronounced as in ‘loch’.
-Snaidhm ròpa – rope knots
–Sporan-feannaig – Mermaid’s purse, an egg case
–Faoiteag – Groatie buckies or cowrie shells
Fuh-tch-ak (It is very good luck to find these!)
Names for bivalves, molluscs and the like vary hugely from region to region. All the Gaelic names listed above are fairly ‘standard’ but don’t be surprised if on speaking to someone you find they have almost an entirely different vocabulary for talking about the same thing. It doesn’t make life easy for the Gaelic learner but it does make life more interesting.