The Proverbs of Ireland

"Yuh sleep wid daag, yuh ketch him flea.” Most of us know this venerable Jamaican adage as “He who lies down with dogs rises with fleas.” Proverbs provide insight into human nature that transcend nationality, yet their individual versions offer a taste of a nation’s soul—and none are more delicious than the proverbs of Ireland.

Irish warnings against misbehaving abound, such as “The road to Heaven is well signposted, but it’s badly lit at night.” Sweet sayings for lovers include “He who stares into the middle of a fire does be heavily in love” and “Where there is love, it’s easy to halve the potato.”

And when the glow of love wears off? “A woman’s tongue is a thing that does not rust” is well met by “Men are like bagpipes—they make no sound until they're full.”

The Irish word for proverbs is seanfhocail (SHAN-uck-will), which literally means "old words.” I read through several volumes of these witty gems in my quest to make the characters in my alternate Irish history tales sound more Irish.

My Young Adult stories, Glancing Through the Glimmer and Autumn Glimmer, feature a few proverbs, but these wise old sayings really shine in my "Band of Roses" trilogy.  A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses are a rollicking blend of historical fantasy, romance, and suspense starring the indomitable Princess Talty Boru, her devoted champion Neil, and a lovable cast of dauntless heroes and devious villains.


The trilogy supposes what Ireland would be like today if High King Brian Boru had survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. His descendant, modern day Princess Talty, wishes she were anyone but the heir to her father’s throne. An arranged marriage offers an escape from her royal duties, but she quickly learns to be careful what she wishes for.




To properly flavor the stories, I added a dollop of Dublin slang to the characters’ speech. A generous sprinkling of Irish proverbs added a complexity not only unique to the Emerald Isle, but also fun to read.

Honey is sweet, but don’t lick it from a thornbush.

Don’t show your teeth until you can bite.

Leave a little room for the fairies to dance.

One of Talty’s kinsmen describes her by saying, “A lion isn’t a fitting companion for all men,” and “It takes a woman to beat the devil.” The Boru family motto is “The Strong Hand Rules.” King Brian constantly reminds his family that “There is No Strength Without Unity,” but Talty learns the hard way that “Adversity is the Source of Strength.”

The climate, culture, and people of Ireland produced a wealth of these magical phrases. I barely tapped the proverbial well to enhance A Band of Roses. More than enough remained to enrich Fiery Roses and Salty Roses:


The new broom sweeps the house best, but the old broom knows where the dirt is.

Don’t be banging your shin on a stool that’s not in your way.

The finest shoe makes a sorry hat.

Hunger makes a good sauce.

and one of my favorites:

The world is quiet and the pig is in the sty.

Away With the Fairies

“In a shady nook one moonlit night a leprechaun I spied . . .”

Thanks to my family’s love of music, I learned the poem/song, The Leprechaun, when I was knee-high to a fairy. ‘Twas on an Irish record, of course, one of many recorded by the great Irish tenor, John McCormack. (Enjoy The Leprechaun in its entirety at the end of this post.)

I knew about the teensy Tinker Bell types of fairies from stories like Peter Pan and Sleeping Beauty, but the fairies of Irish folklore were always leprechauns to me. Not so, I learned while delving into the wealth of literature depicting these elusive beings. Leprechauns belong to the class of “Solitary Fairies,” which includes cluricauns, dullahans, pookas, merrows, silkies, and banshees.

Then we have the “Trooping Fairies” who party in crystal palaces beneath the Knock Ma (See Knock Moo), the hill in County Galway said to house the palace of Finvarra, the King of the Connaught Fairies. Finvarra costars in my Young Adult novel, Glancing Through the Glimmer. We didn't meet him the day we visited Knock Ma, but the local postman assured us that he and his troop were there.

It’s no surprise that these beings and the lore surrounding them have inspired many tales over the years. Glancing Through the Glimmer incorporates alternate Irish history with the magic of the Other Crowd, and it has been a joy to research.

More than once, I’ve felt inexplicable tugs toward wonderfully inspiring articles and books. I've learned that Irish lakes provide homes for water fairies, who live in underwater palaces, such as the one featured in Autumn Glimmer, the sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer. And the leprechauns star in A Pot of Glimmer, the third book in the Glimmer series, currently in the works.

I’ve found countless web sites devoted to fairies, faeries, fae, fay, etc. During my latest visit to Ireland, I added several volumes on the Good Folk to my personal library. The public library helped my research too, but my most successful foray was into the incredible collection of Irish books my aunts have compiled over the years (See Seeking Irish Heroines.)

Every culture has fairies, whole hierarchies of them. In Ireland they aren’t the cute little Walt Disney squeakers we all know and love. Many are human-size, and all can be downright mean if one crosses them. Hair, eyes, teeth, and toenails can all fall out if we mortals distress them. (I'm in high hopes they’ve willingly joined the cast of the Glimmer Books.)

My grandmother once said that when she was a child in County Sligo (circa 1910), her father would set out a line of stones before he erected an outbuilding on their farm. If in the morning the stones were still where he’d placed them, he knew he was good to go. If not, then the fairies had disapproved of his choice, and he had to try again. Superstitious nonsense?

I’ve visited Ireland too many times to be sure, to be sure. What do you think?

The Leprechaun

(Attributed to Robert Dwyer Joyce)

In a shady nook one moonlit night,
A leprechaun I spied

In a scarlet cap and a coat of green,
A cruiskeen* by his side.

'Twas tick, tack, tick, his hammer went
Upon a tiny shoe,

And I laughed to think of a purse of gold,
But the fairy was laughing too.

With tiptoe step and beating heart,
Quite softly I drew nigh.

There was mischief in his merry face,
A twinkle in his eye.

He hammered and sang with tiny voice
And drank his mountain dew.

And I laughed to think he was caught at last,
But the fairy was laughing too.

As quick as thought I seized the elf.
"You're fairy purse!" I cried.

"The purse," he said, "is in her hand,
The lady by your side."

I turned to look, the elf was off,
And what was I to do?

Oh, I laughed to think what a fool I'd been,
And the fairy was laughing too.

* jug

A Perilous Pub Lunch in North Mayo

Enjoy an Excerpt from Fiery Roses, Book Two in the Band of Roses Trilogy...

Escorted by Fian guards Rory and Barry, Talty and Neil Boru stop for an unforgettable meal.
____
Outside the pub, the storm finally broke. Rain bucketed down, beating against the windowpanes. A murky air fell over the room.

The turf fire mesmerized Talty. She’d dreamed of scenes like this when she’d lived in Japan and California. "There’s nothing like a turf fire on a rainy day."

Neil fondled her hand with deliberate intimacy. "I can think of a few things."

Rory fumbled with his beer. Barry studied the old photos on the walls.

Ignoring them, Talty savored the lusty gleam in her lover’s sky-blue eyes. For someone who’d once taken great pains to hide his tender feelings, Neil flaunted them often now that they were married. She slipped her hand beneath the table and stroked his thigh.

The arrival of their food interrupted the luscious moment. The hungry travelers made short work of the tantalizing meals the waitress set down.

The young woman had just cleared the table when Barry nodded toward the door. "You have fans, Tal."

Two damp little girls who’d been among the children playing outside had come in from the rain. They stopped a few feet short of the table and stared with wide green eyes, their hands behind their backs.

The older girl was about eight, the younger no more than six. Carrot-red hair crowned both girls’ heads. The little one wore hers in a straight, sodden ponytail, while a mass of wild curls sprouted in all directions from the older child’s head. Their identical, freckled-spattered faces marked them as sisters.

Talty couldn’t help grinning. "Hello. Can we help you?"

The younger girl shoved the older toward the table. "You’re the Lady Princess," said the curly-haired miss in a barely audible voice.

"Yes, I am. I’m Talty Boru, and these gentlemen are my husband, Neil, and our friends, Barry and Rory. Who are you?"

"I’m Mary Margaret Gannon. This is my sister, Joanie."

The table was between the girls and Talty, and so she nodded instead of offering her hand. "It’s fine to meet you, Mary Margaret. You too, Joanie."

The rain stopped. Breaking sunshine chased the gloom from the pub, as if it had received some cue to spotlight the meeting.

Mary Margaret swung her hand around and held out a gorgeous, fresh-cut rose whose splendid crimson petals basked in a stray sunbeam. "We brought this for you, Lady Princess."

Gasping with delight, Talty stood and lifted the rose gently from the girl’s hand, cupping the delicate bloom in her fingers to avoid the thorns. After a quick shake to remove the glistening raindrops, she inhaled the flower’s musky fragrance. "It’s perfect! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a lovely rose."

The girls beamed. Talty glanced at the bar, where Mossy Burke stood beaming as well. He gave her a wink and continued wiping his barware with a linen towel.

Little Joanie made some sort of bobbing gesture. "We hope you like it, Lady Princess."

"I love it. Thank you."

With gap-toothed grins of delight, the girls turned and skipped across the floor. They skidded to a stop when a menacing figure entered the pub and blocked the entrance. Barry and Rory stiffened. Neil turned sideways to shield Talty.

The fiddle music stopped. The patrons’ heads swiveled toward the hellcat glowering over the room.

She pointed at the girls when she spotted them. "Here you are, evil little felons! I saw you from the window, cutting my prize roses! What have you to say for yourselves?"
Nothing, it seemed. The girls stood like round-eyed statues.

Talty’s hand shot to her mouth. "Oh, no! Do something, Neil!"

A grin lit Neil’s face. He pushed his chair back and said beneath his breath, "What harm can there be having lunch in a pub?" A few quick strides brought him to the girls. "They meant no harm, ma’am. I’ll gladly pay for the damage, as they took the rose for my wife."

The woman shook her fists at the girls. "I don’t care if they took it for the pope! That rose was to be judged tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure it would have won first prize. They could have had anything else in the garden, if they’d only asked. Thieves! Villains!"

Neil touched the girls’ shoulders. "You’d best apologize to the lady."

The tiniest squeak escaped from Joanie’s mouth. Mary Margaret said, "We’re very sorry, Aunt Betty. We took the best one because it was for the Lady Princess."

The woman’s eyes seemed about to pop out, as if trying to flee from her wrath. "Liars as well as thieves! Wicked heathens! We’re going straight to the church to see Father O’Malley."

Talty glared at the snickering Rory and Barry and jumped from her seat.

* * * * *

A Band of Roses / E-book Available from

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Fiery Roses / E-book Available from

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Salty Roses / E-book Available from

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Meet Ireland's Crown Princess, Talty Boru

I fingered the embossed gold letters on the business card in my hand. Dropping by Tara Hall to visit Ireland’s Deputy Head of State, Her Royal Highness, Taillte Rosaleen Boru, is always a treat. Her efficient assistant, a pleasant man named Denis, let me into her office, where I waited before her antique desk while she finished signing a stack of papers. Seconds later, she jumped up and hurried toward me, bejeweled fingers extended in greeting. We exchanged a firm handshake and embraced like old friends. The Crown Princess had insisted years ago that I address her as Talty. As I did so today, the dynamic young heir to the Irish throne led me to a circle of black leather chairs before the fireplace. Her ready smile and unfailing good humor made our meeting, as always, a delight.

Thank you for agreeing to see me today, Talty.

Not at all. I’m glad for the break. My father has me running about like a hen on a hot griddle. Do this Talty, don’t do that, Talty. It’s enough to send a saint to the nearest pub.

Your schedule does seem more hectic than usual lately. I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you for weeks. Has something changed at Tara Hall?

Only temporarily. We’re preparing for a state visit from the Emperor and Empress of Japan, and everyone is in a dither over protocol. I don’t mind telling you, Pat, I’m a tad peeved at you for sending me to Japan in A Band of Roses. My mother wants me to do the Japanese tea ceremony at the banquet for the Emperor this Friday night. I haven’t done one for a while, and I have no time to practice. I’ll tell you, my knickers are in knots!

I’d never guess. Sorry for the trouble, but I wouldn’t have a story if you didn’t get into mischief. In fact, I’m here today to run a few ideas by you for the next scene.

Oh, I’ll just bet. You think nothing of twisting hay around here. Sending me to Japan wasn’t bad enough. I had to go through that silly dimensional thingy and mess about with Vikings!

You’re a warrior, Talty. You can look after yourself. Besides, I threw in a little romance for you.

Right. With a nice enough lad, but not the one I really want. Neil is such a handsome fella, the only one who isn’t afraid to knock me on my duff when we spar.

Sounds like true love to me. Do you see him often?

I saw him this morning. We practiced unarmed combat in the gym downstairs. I do love it when he, well . . . I broke a nail, and I have to attend a dinner tonight at the Spanish Embassy.

Life is full of problems. Sounds like you’re ready for another escape from Tara Hall.

Is there foam on a pint of stout? Do me an obligement and send Neil with me this time.

You know very well that only you and your ISF teammates can go through the Peregrine Portal.

The devil wouldn’t go through that thing unless he was drunk. Listen, Pat. You’re the author. I’m the princess. I’m sure we can work something out. We don’t need the Peregrine Portal. Neil is a fine pilot. Have him fly me somewhere quiet. And private.

Neil isn’t ready for a commitment. I’m thinking of sending you to a desert this time. I thought you’d enjoy a fling with a handsome sheik’s son.

Oh? Well. Maybe. Just this once. Oh, all right. Will you stay for lunch and help me practice the Japanese tea ceremony?

Is there gold at the end of the rainbow?

Book One in the Band of Roses Trilogy

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