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 This is the ninth post in the 30 days to Druidry series.

I’m an eighth Irish, and since my surname is French; something’s probably related in there, from around 1600.

The Irish Side

Having been to Ireland and learnt 100 words of Irish ‘Gaelic’, I’m especially interested in this side. Growing up in English I feel English; but I’ve always been impressed with my grandfather’s views and his manners, and when looking up our genealogy, managed to get a little closer to his side of the family.

The History Unfolds
His father was Irish, his mother English. But they got married and moved to Ireland, as the father was in the Royal Enniskillen Fusiliers. I have a photocopy of a diary, written in short-hand from when his father was part of the British Expeditionary Force in France in 1915. He was 19. He later spend his 21st birthday in a Prisoner of War camp in Minden, baking potatoes on a fire to celebrate the event.

Two weeks ago, I turned 21.

As someone who fell asleep during history at school and when said I had to choose it or Geography which I hated just as much; I choose Geography. I just didn’t get on with History – minus the Native American Indians we studied in year 9.

Stories of Life

Yet, now I’m taking a course, effectively, in Celtic history of Druid Revivals and Mythology. I can watch Natural history programs and if the war which my family fought in is the subject; I can tolerate it.

Through finding my roots, I find a fascination in a subject I’d always written off as boring.


The Ancestors of this land are important, but in my personal practise, I’m getting to know my own heritage and that connection is something I feel is limited by time – if another family member dies; I lose the information, the connection to those long-past ancestors.

I can (and do) connect with the Ancestors of this sacred isle at any space in my life (climate change aside). My ancestors are those I look up to in times of need; asking what they’d advise me to do.

And on my birthday, I ate rice in a pub with my friend and parents; and we took part in the pub quiz. And I wondered if Arthur Robinson had friends around him to share the event with, if his potatoes were burnt and if he had to hide it from anyone.

In Light,