Fairy Tale Fix - 103: You’re Sucking All The Fun Out

Episode Date: March 11, 2025

Finally, it's our favorite time of the year – Irish fairy tale month! FOUR for the price of two!!! Turn down the lights and pretend it's raining because Kelsey tells two ghostly tales perfect for a dark and stormy night; Sheela-Na-Skean and The Dreamhouse. Then, Abbie follows it up with two very cool Irish creation/mythology stories Fintan MacBochra and The River Shannon.

I think I met a psychic yesterday. A real psychic. You met a psychic or you made a psychic? I met a psychic. Okay, thank you. She came, she had a very cute dog. So, you know, obviously whenever I see a cute dog, I have to tell the owner, oh my God, this is the cutest dog I've ever seen in my whole life. Obviously. Her dog's name was Tata, which is really funny. It was really like the cutest dog. It was a Havanese.

Okay. She was very proud of that. And like she wasn't, we weren't really gonna like chat, but her dog kept following me. So we ended up kind of chatting just a little bit. I can't for the life of me remember her name, but she started getting into like how she was a healer and like wanted to teach classes on healing. I guess she like uses like sound therapy and she's like, oh, okay. All into that kind of thing. Like, and was telling me how she currently

mostly heals livestock. Like people pay her to heal their livestock. To do like sound baths for livestock or? Uh-huh. Okay. So she's talking to me and she's like, and I'm not really like totally believing her, but in my head I'm like very loudly thinking, wow, she reminds me so much of my friend Celeste. My friend Celeste like does like all these like, she works with a lot of like witchy

people here, she helps run like festivals for things like crystal, like crystal healing and aura reading and stuff like that. And I was very loudly thinking like, reminds me of Celeste. Okay. And she's like, Oh, I'm so sorry, I forgot your name. For some reason, I'm thinking Celeste. And I was just like, Oh gosh, maybe she's really psychic. That's what made me believe. I was like, I think I really just met a psychic woman. Maybe her crystal healing does work. I know. So anyway, I hope she starts teaching classes because that would be awesome. Hell yeah. I would totally go to those. Honestly, I have discovered, I love sound baths. Yeah. Have you been to one? Yeah.

We do them at my job. Oh, very cool. The second Saturday of every morning, or sorry, the second Saturday of every month. We'll do like beginners yoga and sound baths in our big event space. Very cool. They are genuinely, especially if you're kind of doing them in a month. I usually can't participate because I'm usually like doing social media or like helping run the event.

Yeah. Yeah, you're like taking pictures and videos of the actual event. Right, exactly. But like, you know, the one time I actually kind of was able to sort of like sit down and participate, it was very like, especially if you're kind of doing your breathing and you're doing your best to kind of meditate it actually it actually like is very relaxing like there is just something vibrationally like centering and lovely about about a sound bath like it really does feel like a bath for your brain. That's very cool. I'm gonna go to one. I'm gonna have to I know they do them here. I'm going to have to find one and go. I've never been. Yeah, they're really nice.

Highly recommend. Even if it's just spicy psychology. Yeah, spicy psychology. I mean, you know, like, and then I think like, especially depending on who you're getting a sound bath from, there is like sort of like traditional medicine, you know, different like meditation practice that goes into it. Yeah, it's great.

Well, I mean, sound is all vibrations and isn't that everything in the universe? Yeah, exactly. We are all just vibrate. We are atoms vibrating at different frequencies. Well, she told me that somebody was going to come into my life really soon, which at first I thought she was thinking I was alone and like, I don't know. Right, that she was like, this girl is single. Yeah, like, oh, you're lonely.

But she was like, somebody's going to come into your life. And then she's like, I don't think, not necessarily romantic, but maybe more like a mentor. So if that happens, then I'll fully believe that she's psychic. I don't see that happening. You do have to also do that thing where you remember that it's such a vague thing to say. Don't fall into the trap of being like, oh my God, it's just like my psychic said when it's one person at work gives you a bit of good advice and you're like, wow.

When she was saying that I was like, uh-huh, sure, sure. I was like, great, now she's rooting me, like kind of eye roll in the back of my head. Plus it was like, I don't know, it was outside we were talking and there were so many fucking mosquitoes and she was kind of like going on and on and I was just like, all right, like let's wrap it up. Okay, let's wrap it up. And then she said the thing where she was like, for some reason I want to say Celeste. And then I was like, whoa, maybe she really is psychic. Okay. Well, if a great mentor figure. So if the mentor thing turns out to be true. Yeah.

We'll know for sure. We'll know for sure. And I hope you got her name or number because... I did. I immediately forgot her name. It should be her. I asked her name twice and I still can't remember. Oops. But her dog's name is Tata. I remember that.

Okay. Well, that's honestly the more important name to remember is the dog's name. Yeah. I'll probably never see her again. But it's really funny. Also, Tata is a great name for a dog. I love that. That's so cool.

I can't wait to find out if her prediction comes true. Yeah. It was really funny because I was just thinking yesterday after work, I was just like, man, I feel like such an NPC right now. I just feel like I'm just doing the same thing every day, all day. I don't have any... One of those moments where you're like, do I really have real control over my life? Mm-hmm.

Where you just feel like you're on a loop. Do I have free will? And then that happened and I was like, whoa, crazy. Wow, okay. Anyway, that's what's going on with me. How are you? I'm doing pretty good. I'm feeling better this week. I had a couple of topics that I wanted to talk about.

One of the things I wanted to... I had a whole other spiel, but it has been completely derailed by... And I'm trying to figure out how to tell you this story vaguely. I might have to save it for when we're off. Okay. When we're off, because I just remembered it and now it's all I can think about. You can always cut it out. I was going to tell you the story and I'll cut it out. So I, at work, I was going through work, but I'm marketing, so they're yelling at me about how they haven't sold anything. One merchant in particular really went the fuck off. The closer I get to 40, the more I start regretting saying things like, she's an older lady.

I know, isn't that weird? I was just thinking about that. I was like, yeah, this older lady, she's like 35. Wait a minute. Yeah. Anyway, whatever. So she's like, so she's yelling at the top of her voice at me. So not like necessarily like violently at you. No, but she was like, she was very passionate and she was pissed off. And she was pissed off at me. So for part of the story, to understand the long history of corrupt... I don't remember if you've told me that.

I'm sure I have. One of these... Oh, but the point of the story is that in the middle of it, you need to figure out how to hide where the money went. And I was like, wait, what the fuck? What? You're like, hot tip. Okay. Tell me more. As an accountant, I burned. But she was like, so if like. Mm-hmm. It's not the answer, babe. Like, oh my God, that's crazy. Oh man, well, hey, let your bosses know.

Just kidding. He's just. It's so funny. I like it. I like her. She sounds fun. She is so fun. This is why I always stop by her kiosk because I'm going to hear something unhinged. I'm going to hear a story I only half believe. Yep. I love that. Because she's bonkers. But also, is she bonkers or is she the sanest person I've ever met? I don't know.

You know what? Who knows? Maybe can you be both? Yes. I think so. And I think she's it. I'm going to have to cut that whole story, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm going to sit that's.

That's okay. I'm glad you told me. Yeah. Well, you got it. Okay, well, so since like I'm pretty sure I bleeped, I bleeped most of that story out, I think I am just gonna literally just like put in chunks of it, but beep, beep. Oh, perfect.

Welcome, I guess then to Fairy Tail Fix. I'm Abbey. And I'm Kelsey. And this is the What the Fuck Fairy Tale podcast where we read each other stories from around the globe and dare to ask the question, what the actual hell? And this month it's from only one area of the globe. Yes! You know it, you love it, it's March, baby.

It's the only thing that makes March bearable. It's Irish Fairytale Month. Hell yes, I am so stoked. And also realizing how hard it is to find Irish fairy tales that we haven't read already. I know there's a lot, but there's also a lot with different names that are sometimes the same stories we've already read. Basically the same story. Be proud of me. I actually prepared today.

Ooh, I am so proud of you. Thank you. I actually read stories. I read multiple stories and then selected one. Hell yes. So good for Abby. I hope we didn stories and then selected one. Hell yes. So good for Abby. I hope we didn't select the same one. Me too. That is, I mean, because like that is a risk because we're kind of like, we're kind of reading out of a lot of the same books.

Yeah. You know? If we keep it up, we might have to switch to like a few like just fairy specific fairy tales. You know what I mean? Like go with like some Scottish and English ones too. We may have to start mixing it up a little bit for this. We'll see. Unless I can actually get my shit together and actually read some beforehand too which is, you know. Hey, you know what? D for done.

Difficult. I read mine last night and couldn't decide and kept reading them this morning. Oh, man. That is. Yeah, I read quite a few. You read a bunch. Okay. I read, okay, you know, I'm well to my own horn as much then I read a couple. You know what, that's still great. Picked one. But I got about all the way through The Adventures of Billy McDaniel before realizing we did that one already. I just forgot that it was called The Adventures of Billy McDaniel.

Yeah, I read a couple and I was like, oh, I've read this story. It's just called something else on our podcast. So when I looked it up, it didn't come up in like our show notes. But I was like, I know the story. It's it was the one where the fairies take a guy like a guy for an adventure and he goes and he's having a great time. And then they decide to kidnap a woman and then they kidnap a girl. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, I know where this is going. Yep. Yeah, I read a leprechaun story that I might read next time because it's a little shorter but I was like, did I read this one already or are a lot of the leprechaun stories like very similar? They might just because I don't know because this is kind of the tricky

bit of when you're getting into like folktale. I think especially folk tales that surround a certain class of creature, all the stories tend to be the same because this is what leprechauns do. And so all of the stories about leprechauns eventually end up being pretty samey. So we'll see how this goes. Spoiler alert, I am dipping again into sort of more like Irish myth. Yes. Ooh, I'm really excited. Less folk tale, more mythology again, because I think that that's... I really enjoyed that last year of finding... Yeah, me too.

Yeah. So that's kind of the direction I'm going in again. All right. Do you want to? Before we get into our stories though, I did want to thank our latest patron who joined us is our newest witches apprentice and that would be Lee. Lee, we love you so much. Yeah, thank you. Thank you so much for becoming a patron of Fairy Tale Fix. It's true. It's really humbling

every time we get a new person. And the fact that we've already been hanging out a little because for everybody else, Lee is one of, she is our fairy overlords friend, Giselle. And Giselle invited her to like come to some of our like fairy overlord hangouts. And we fell in love with Lee and it's and it's so lovely that the feeling appears to be mutual. And Lee, we just appreciate you so much. Thank you. Yeah, thank you so much. Oh, Lee is also the person who put together the spreadsheet that finally confirms once and for all that I am ahead in points. Yeah, you are definitely. But it wasn't by like too much. So I

can I could get there. I can catch up. That's true. You are not out of the game, but I am for the moment, the winner and I needed that W today. Good, I'm glad you got that one. Well, you are going to have a chance to get even more points from my story today, which I actually think I'm gonna read too. Oh, okay. Hit me. What are they?

So my first story is called, oh, and it is from A Treasury of Irish Fairy and Folk Tales, and it is called, if I am saying this correctly, Sheila Noskin. am saying this correctly. Sheila Noskin. We just gave me a look. That doesn't help me. Nope at all. Sheila Noskin. You can see how it's written in the show notes or do you want me to send it to you? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I don't have the show notes up. I'll send it to you in the chat. That's how it's spelled. And I can tell you what section of the book it is in, but I don't know if that will help you.

Just, yeah, tell me what section it's in. It is in Popular Notions Considering the Seed Race. Did I say that right? S-I-D-H-E. Oh, yeah. The she? The she race? I don't know what that means. I actually do know what that means. Oh, you do? What does it mean?

Don't spell it again. S-I-D-H-E. That's Irish for fairy folk. Oh, I feel like that really doesn't tell you much, but good luck. Make some predictions. Thank you. You can make three, mm. I mean, it is an Irish fairy tale. So I feel like... Especially if it's concerning the she, which I'm pretty sure that's how you say it, because that's not at all how it looks. But I remember Googling it once.

Um, we're going under the hill. Oh, I love it. Under the hill. Oh, I love it. Under the hill. We're playing a trick on somebody. Ooh, playing a trick. And one more. Sheila Niskin or whatever is a place.

Okay, is a place. Okay, is a place. All right, everyone who's listening, now I would like you to turn off your lights. If it's raining outside, open the window a little. Picture yourself listening to this by a fireplace on a dark and stormy night. Ooh, okay, Ambient setting. Yes. That's where I want you to be while you're listening to this. Okay.

I love it. Sheila Naskin. Sorry if I am saying that wrong. Please let me know how it's actually pronounced. If you know. There is an old ruin of a farmhouse in the county cork near Firmoy that has an evil reputation, and no one would build it or inhabit it. Years and years ago, a rich farmer lived there who was reputed to have hordes of gold hid away in his sleeping room. Some said he never slept without the sack of gold being laid under his pillow. However, one night he was found cruelly murdered.

Thunder. And all the gold in the house was missing except a few pieces stained with blood that had evidently been dropped by the murderers in their flight. The old man at the time was living quite alone. His wife was dead and his only son was away in a distant part of the country. But on the news of the murder, the son returned and a close investigation was made.

Suspicion finally fell on the housekeeper and a lover she used to bring to the house. They were arrested in consequence and brought to trial. The housekeeper, Sheila Noskian, or Sheila the Knife. Fucking cool, right? I think this is a lot of things from my last story. Cool nickname. I know, Sheila of the Knife. As she was called afterwards,

was a dark, fierce, powerful woman noted for her violent and vindictive temper. Hot. Mm-hmm. The lover was a weak, cowardly fellow who at the last turned in evidence to save his life. He had taken no part, he said, in the actual murder, though he had helped Sheila to remove and bury the gold.

Hmm. Complicit. Complic remove and bury the gold. Hmm. Complicit. Complicit. In the moita. Mm-hmm. What murder? This is so many themes like from my last story. It does.

I love it though. I've been listening to a lot of my favorite murder lately. Uh-huh, so you're in a place. I've got true praise. Yeah. That's probably why I picked this one, I'm just realizing. Anyway, according to his story,

Sheila entered the old man's room at night and taking a sharp short sword that always hung at the head of his bed, she stabbed him fiercely over and over till not a breath of life was left. Then calling her lover, they ransacked the room and found quantities of golden guineas, which they put in a bag and carried out into the field

where they buried in a safe spot. Okay, I'm riveted. I know, so good. Known only to themselves, but this place, neither Sheila nor the lover would reveal unless they received a pardon. So the gold is still out there. It's still out there somewhere.

Dun, dun, dun. The murder, however, was too atrocious for pardon, and Sheila was hung amid the howlings and execrations of the people. The what? What is execration? Itlings and execrations of the people. What? What is execration? It sounds like the pleas of the people. Yeah, an angry denouncement or curse.

I love that we both learned a new word. Okay, I was going to say I'm surprised you didn't tell me what it meant right away. Because I've never heard that word before in my life. What was it again? It was execution? Execrations? Execration. Amid the howlings and Execrations? Execration.

Amid the howlings and execrations of the people. But she remained fierce and defiant to the last, still refusing obstinately to reveal the place where the money was buried. What a badass. I love her. I know. I mean, I guess. I mean, she's a murderer or whatever. Hashtag villain sympathizers. I mean, especially like I support women's rights and women's wrongs. She sounds fucking awesome.

She does sound awesome because also like, I don't know, I watched the Goonies last night. Oh, yeah. That shows great respect to this horrible pirate that laid a bunch of booby traps and stuff all over this, all over, you know, Portland. So whatever, if one-eyed Willie is cool, Sheila of the Knife is also fucking dope. Sheila of the Knife.

Yeah, we didn't really learn a lot about the farmer other than that he was rich and he like slept with his money under his pillow. So he doesn't sound like he's probably the greatest guy. No, it sounds like he was hoarding wealth and being a weird dude who was living alone on his pile of gold and he deserved to be stabbed a little bit about it. You can't take it with you, bud. You can't. Maybe pay your housekeeper more. You can't take it with you, bud. You can't.

Maybe pay your housekeeper more. I don't know. Especially when it's Sheila of the Knife. Don't cross Sheila of the Knife. Okay. The lover, meanwhile, had died in prison from fright. Delightful. Yeah.

For after a sentence was pronounced, he fell down in a fit from which he never recovered. So the secret of the gold died with them. After this, I'm so sorry. I was not expecting a treasure story. Hell yeah. A buried treasure story is so good and I'm so excited. Please, I'm sorry. Go on.

No worries. I love it. I'm glad you're liking it. Okay. After this, the sun came to I'm glad you're liking it, okay. After this, the sun came to live in the place and the tradition of the hidden gold was still kept alive in the family, but all efforts to find it proved useless. Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

Now a strange thing happened. The farmer dreamed for three nights in succession that if he went at midnight to an old ruined castle in the neighborhood, he would hear words that might tell him the secret of the gold, but he must go alone. So after the third dream, the farmer resolved to do so, and he went forth at midnight to the place indicated. His two sons, grown up young men, anxiously awaited his return. And about an hour after midnight, the father came home, pale as a ghost, haggard and trembling. They helped him to his bed, and after a little while,

he was able to tell them of his adventures. He said, on reaching the old ruin, he leaned straight up against the wall and waited for the promised words in silence. Then a breath seemed to pass over his face, and he heard in a low voice whispering in his ear If you want to find the bag of gold take out the third stone But here said the farmer mournfully the voice stopped before the place was named where the gold lay and at an instant a

Terrific screech was heard and the ghost of Sheila appeared gigantic and terrible, her hands dripping with blood, her eyes flaming fire, and she rushed to attack me, brandishing a short, sharp sword around her head, in the very same, perhaps, with which she had committed the murder. Outside of this awful apparition, I fled homeward. Sheila's still pursuing me with leaps and yells till I reached the boundary of the castle grounds when she sank into the earth and disappeared, but continued the farmer.

I am certain from the voice that the bag of gold lies hidden under the third stone. In he could say no more. For at that instant, the door of the bedroom was violently flung open as if a strong storm wind. The candle was blown out and the unfortunate man was lifted from his bed by invisible hands. Yes! And dashed upon the floor with a terrible crash. In the darkness, the young men could hear the groans,

but they saw no one. When the candle was relit, they went over to help their father, but found he was already dead with a black mark around his throat as if from strangulation by a powerful hand. So the secret of the gold remained still undiscovered. Dun, dun, dun.

Dun. Dun. Dun. Shhh, shhh, more storm sounds. I'm loving this so much. This is so good. I like, oh man, this, I wasn't expecting a ghost story either. Right?

It's so good. Fucking wonderful. I love it. This is very my favorite murder. I hope it's very dark and stormy wherever everyone is listening. After the funeral was over and all affairs settled, the brothers agreed that they would still search for the gold in the old ruins of the castle, undeterred by the apparition of the terrible Sheila, which like, holy shit, are you sure?

Your dad was murdered in front of you. You sure it's safe in there? So is the gold worth it? I guess probably. Times is hard. Times is hard. So on a certain midnight, they set forth with spades and big sticks for defense and proceeded, which is, yeah, that's going to help you against a ghost, but whatever.

Go off. And proceeded to examine every third stone in the huge walls to the height of the man from the ground, seeking some secret mark or sign by which perhaps the true stone might be discovered. But as they worked, a thin blue light suddenly appeared at some distance in the inner court of the castle. And by it stood the ghost of their father,

pointing with an outstretched hand to a certain stone in the castle. And by it stood the ghost of their father, pointing with an outstretched hand to a certain stone in the wall. Now they thought that must certainly be the spot where the gold is hid. They said, no, really. And they rushed on, but before they could reach the place, the terrible form of Sheila appeared, more awful than words could describe. Get him, Sheila. the terrible form of Sheila appeared, more awful than words could describe, clothed in white and with a circle of flame around her head. And she sees the ghost with her gory hands and dragged him away with horrible yells and imprecations and far off in the dark. What? What's an imprecation?

Oh gosh. I'm enjoying learning new words. Let's do it. Implications. And making you Google. Implications. It means, oh, a spoken curse. She hurled her implications at anyone who might be listening. Oh, she's cursing. She's like, she's cursing him. Fuck you, you fucking bastard. Son of a gutter snipe.

Okay. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this.

I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. I'm going to go ahead and do this. You fucking bastard. Son of a gutter snipe. Okay. Sorry. No, you're good.

She dragged him away with horrible yells and imprecations. Yeah. Motherfucker. Motherfucker. You got to say it in an Irish accent. I am motherfucker. I can't do an Irish accent. I am motherfucker. I can't do an Irish accent.

OK. And far off in the darkness, they could hear the fight going on and the yells of Sheila as she pursued the ghost. Now, said the young men, let us work while they are fighting. And they worked away at the third stone from the end where the blue light had rested. No, Sheila, it's a trick.

A large flat stone, but easily lifted when they had rolled it away from the place. There underneath lay a huge bag of bright golden guineas. And they raised it up from the earth. A terrific unearthly din was heard in the distance, and a shrill scream rang on the air. Then a rush of the wind came by them and the blue light vanished. But they heeded nothing, only lifted from the bag came by them and the blue light vanished, but they heated nothing, only lifted from the bag in the clay and carried it away with them through the

darkness and storm. And the yell seemed to pursue them till they reached the boundary of the castle grounds, then all was still, and they traversed the rest of the way in peace and reached home safely. Bummer. From that time, the ghost of Sheila Noskeen ceased to haunt the castle, but lamenting and cries used to sometimes be heard at night in and around the old farmhouse. So the brothers pulled it down and left it in a ruin and built a handsome residence with some of their treasure. For now, they had plenty of gold and they lived happily and prospered ever after

with all of their family and possessions. And on the spot where the gold was found, they erected a cross in memory of their father to whom they owed all their wealth and through whom this prosperity had come. For him, the evil spirit of Shilinaskyan was conquered at last and the gold restored to the family of the murdered farmer. The end. That was a good story. It was so fun. I was a little disappointed in the end. I didn't want anyone to find the gold.

I wanted that gold to stay hidden forever. Yeah. I wanted it to be like, oh, and it's probably still there to this day. You know what I mean? Right. Yes. But I guess I'm happy for their sons or whatever. I mean, you know, I'm not. Sheila worked hard for that. I think it would have been cool if the gold, like she was still, like that place is haunted and Sheila Muskin is still like protecting that gold. Yep. That's what I would have wanted to see from the end of the story.

Also, who was whispering in dad's ear? Oh, good point. Maybe the rich farmer, the like original. Maybe, but like if it's in a story- The grand daddy. If it's in a story that references the she, like that implies like some fairy shit. Oh yeah, there's a lot implies some fairy shit. Oh yeah.

There's a lot of fairy shit. I mean, there's ghosts. I feel like Sheila sounds like a banshee almost. Oh, maybe. In the way that it's written. But the she are a specific kind of fairy. They're specifically fair folk, you know? Not like ghosts or banshees or anything like that.

I thought maybe I'm just misunderstanding. Maybe they were the ones making him dream. I don't know. It doesn't say explicitly. That was kind of what I was thinking is like, because where are the dreams coming from? And like, who's whispering to him about the third stone or whatever, but they don't explain. And so that's my other fix. Who is that?

Excellent fix. I'm glad you like that story. I loved the story. That was very atmospheric. Right? I'm kind of sad that it's such a bright sunny day outside of my window. I know. That's why I had to set the scene.

I was like, oh, just imagine. That's a good fireside tale. Yeah. I'm glad you liked it. I think you'll like this next one too. It's called The Dream House. The Dream House. And it's very short, so I'm only going to give you one point or one.

Oh, let's see. What did you get? We didn't go under the hill. Nobody played a trick and it was not a place. Shilin Oski was a fucking badass. Oh, for three. Man, that was so cool. What an incredible woman. Of the knife. I like that she married a simp. That she just like... Her boyfriend was like all skinny and scared. Skinny and scared. that she just like, her boyfriend was like all skinny and scared. Skinny and scared.

Like he literally died of fright. Come on. So funny. I love it so much. Like you weren't, I don't think he was even like going to be hanged because he didn't partake in the murder. Maybe. I don't know.

It sounds like he was in a dungeon though. So like. Yeah, maybe he would have been hanged. Yeah. Maybe his hanging in his bed was the next day. What happened to his ghost? Maybe his bed was the next day. Well, what happened to his ghost? Maybe his ghost was the one doing the whispering. Maybe he felt so guilty.

Maybe. We'll never know, though. No. All right. Give me one prediction for the dream house. Is it in the same book? No, this one, thank you, is from Favorite Folk Tales from Around the World. Ooh, okay.

I'm excited. It's like maybe a page and a half. Okay. The Dream House. Oh, should I tell you what section it's in? This one has sections too. Oh, please. Let me see.

That will help give my thoughts some direction. Yeah. Maybe unless it's my thoughts some direction. Yeah. Maybe unless it's two. Sometimes there are two. Ha! This section is ghosts and revenants. Which the last story would have fit in too perfectly. Okay.

Uh-huh. Yeah. Basically, this is in... You're in a place. It's still dark and stormy outside... You're in a place. It's still dark and stormy outside. You're on a theme. This is Halloween's spring version. People have weird dreams in this house.

Okay. People have weird dreams. That's such a good prediction. Thank you. Okay. A few years ago, there was a laddie. Oh, wait. It says lady. I don't know why it says laddie. I like laddie though. Me too. Oh, there was a lady living in Ireland, a Mrs. Butler. Oh, she had a name.

I mean, obviously Sheila Noskian also had a name. So this- That's true. Very, very same road. OK. A Mrs. Butler, clever, handsome, popular, prosperous, and perfectly happy. One morning, she said to her husband and to anyone who was staying there, last night I had the most wonderful night.

I seem to be spending hours in the most delightful place, in the most enchanting house I ever saw. Not large, you know, but just the sort of house that might live in oneself. And oh, so perfectly, so deliciously comfortable. There was the loveliest conservatory and the garden was so enchanting. I wonder if anything half so perfect can really exist. Shut up about your dreams, Mrs. Butler. Nobody likes listening to those. Aw.

It's her dream house. Mrs. Butler's dream house. Okay. It's very sweet. She has a conservatory. That's great. The next morning, she said, "'Well, I've been to my house again. "'I must have been there for hours.

"'I sat in the library. "'I walked on the terrace. I examined all the bedrooms and it is simply the most perfect house in the world. So it is not so cute. It's very cute. I love it. She sounds like the most adorable, like,

I don't know, I'm imagining her as like a grandma. So it grew to be quite a joke in the family. People would ask Mrs. Butler in the beginning if she had been to her house in the night, and often she had, and always with more intense enjoyment. She would say, I count the hours till bedtime that I may get back to my house. Then gradually the current of outside life flowed in and gave a turn to their thoughts and the house ceased to be talked about. I love the way that's written. That'd be too. I was just thinking like, oh, that's kind of, yeah, a beautiful way to phrase that.

Yeah. The current of outside life flowed in. And you just kind of forgot about that one detail that, you know, grandma has a favorite dream. Yeah. Two years ago, the butlers grew weary of their life in Ireland. The district was wild and disturbed. The people were insolent and ungrateful. At last they said, well, we're off. We have no children. Oh, sorry.

She's not like a grandma. She's just a happy, prosperous, clever, handsome. Yeah. They're dinks. They're dinks. Oh my God. I love this for them. Me too. We have no children and there's no reason why we should put up with this and we'll go and live all together in England. So they came to London and send for all the house

agents lists of places within 40 miles of London and many were places they went to see. Many were the places they went to see. Many were the places they went to see. Sorry, they went to see a lot of houses. They went to a lot of houses. Gotcha. Yeah. Okay. Perfect. At last they heard of a house in Hampshire. They went to it by rail and drove from the station. As they came to the lodge, Mrs. Butler said, do you know, this is the lodge of my house. They drove down an avenue, but this is my house, she said. Oh my gosh. When the housekeeper came, she said, you think it will very odd, but do you mind my showing you the house?

That passage leads to the library and through there, that's the conservatory. And then through that window, you will enter the drawing room, et cetera. And it was also at last- Oh my God. In an upstairs passage, they came upon a beige door. I think it's beige, hold on. It says, of course, typically green woolen material resembling felt.

Oh. Oh, okay. Not beige, but like a baize door. A baize door. Oh, from like the servants quarters. Usually. Oh, okay. We're learning from this. Like a doorman out of fabric? It says a door covered with wool cloth that separates the servants quarters from

the family's living quarters. Oh. Anyway. Okay. Anyway, it's a door. This is a fancy house then, but like it's got, it's got live in servants. Yeah, totally. Let's see.

Okay. They came upon a Let's see. OK. They came upon a Bayes door. Mrs. Butler, for the first time, looked puzzled. But that door is not in my house, she said. I don't understand about your house, ma'am, said the housekeeper. But that door has only been there six weeks. Well, the house was for sale and the price asked was very small.

And they decided at once to buy it. But when it was bought and paid for, the price had been so extraordinarily small that they could not help a misgiving that there must be something wrong with the place. So they went to the agent of the people who had sold it and said, well, now that the purchase is made and the deeds are signed, will you mind telling us why the price asked was so small? The agent had started violently when they came in, but recovered himself. Then he said to Mrs. Butler, Yes, it's quite true.

The matter is quite settled, so there can be no harm in telling you now. The fact is that the house has had a great reputation for being haunted. But you, madam, need be under no apprehensions, for you yourself are the ghost. Oh my God. The end. So I guess not like as spooky, but kind of cute. So cute and also like so fun that she has been haunting this house. Yeah.

Isn't that so cute? She was the ghost. She was coming in her dreams. Like, that's amazing. I love that. That's a great story. So I don't know. As for your prediction, people have weird dreams

in this house. Is that true? No, because I think it's like she's having weird dreams about that house. She's haunting that house. It's so weird. I know. Like.

Isn't that so good? Oh, I love it. Oh, that's so cool. I don't think that's a point for me. I think I was close. Yeah, I think you were like on the right path, but. Right, I was on the right train of thought, but wasn't quite there.

Yeah. I just thought that was like the cutest story. Aw, that's so great. She's haunting her own house. It's very funny. But you are the ghost and he knows it like everybody knows. That is such a fun twist on the story. I love it. Yeah. I don't have any fixes for that one.

No, me neither. That was full and complete and beautiful. How odd, how interesting. Yeah. All right. Okay. Are you ready? Turn your lights back on. Yeah, this is not a spooky story. I'm just going to lay it out there right now. All right. I'm ready. But it is a very interesting one. And so I'm going to be reading from River Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland. I also have two shortish stories that I'm going to read from. And both of them are kind of more Irish mythology. Okay. And they are from the part of the book

called Sacred Beginnings. Okay. So the first story I'm going to read you is the story of Fintan Macbocra. How do you spell that? F-I-N-T-A-N Macbocra, B-O-C-H-R-A. Fintan Macbocra. Well, how many predictions do I get? You know, I'm going to give you three. Three? All right.

This one's medium-ish. River foattails. I should have thought about this beforehand. I know. I should have sent you off to break with these thoughts. That's okay. I predict. I predict that Fintan is a scoundrel. Scallywag. A scallywag.

A man of ill repute. Yeah. A man of ill repute. Yep. I predict that, let's see, I want to predict some sort of like fairy creature, but I want to be more specific. Okay. But it's river folk tales. I think Kelpies are Scottish. Kelpies are Scottish.

They kind of go. It's in the area. I don't know. I predict that there's a fight. A fight. And lastly, I predict. You know what? I'm just going to predict classic fairies. Love it.

All right. Let's hear it. Okay. I'm debating whether or not to give you the context first or after. Do you want the context of the story first or after the story? Let's do after. Okay. Fintan McBokra was one of the first people to ever set eyes on the beautiful emerald isle, and it was just as well, for he had the eyes, the ears, and the heart of a poet. Some say that he was a lucky man to be on the boat that sailed there because there were only three men and 50 women. Oh, hello. Hello. men and 50 women. Oh, hello. Hello. Fintan chose Kasir, daughter of Banba for his wife, but when they all landed and set about making a life for themselves, there was little time

to sort out the imbalance between men and women. It was only sure. yeah. The great imbalance. Totally, no time. Very imbalanced, no time. What were all those women to do except each other? It was only the second full moon after they had landed when the tidal wave hit their little settlement and it showed a little mercy. That morning, Fintan had traveled inland and uphill to forage. When the water hit,

he was in a little cave in the hill that would come to be called, Irish word that I forgot, Toon-Thinna. Toon-Thinna? How do you spell it? T-O-U-N-T-H-I-N-N-A. Don't look it up because I think it's going to give the story away. Oh, right. I won't. Tintana. Go on. Yes, I shall. That journey saved his life. Later that afternoon, Fintan walked down from the hill over the brow towards home, but instead of the comforting sight of huts and buildings and home fires, the wide ocean met him far too soon. The sea had eaten the land and it had swallowed everything. All his companions had perished and Fintan was alone in a strange place.

All of his pretty ladies. All those ladies. Aww. Dead. Kaputsky. Wow. Drowned. That sucks. He stood at the edge of the water, overwhelmed with sorrow and tears welled in his eyes. As if there wasn't enough water already, said Fintan Mikbokra.

The whole world has turned to water and I with it. Very sad. There was magic in his words. Fintan's eyes shifted to the side of his head, his neck folded into silver flaps as his arms became fins and his legs fused into a tail. Fintan leapt into the air and down into the water, a sleek, scaly salmon. Man, I was thinking about predicting marrow, but I guess that doesn't sound like marrow, does it? It's not marrow. He has changed into a salmon. Yeah. Okay. Okay.

And apparently salmon have a lot of significance in Irish mythology. There is a mythological figure called the Salmon of Wisdom who was different than Fintan. Yeah. I read an Irish fairy tale heavily featuring a salmon. Oh, okay. Cool. Yeah. It was kind of all over the place. I can't remember what it was called. That's fair. Salmon. Salmon. Very significant. So he becomes a salmon, and that is how Fintan Macbocras survived the Great Flood.

Who knows what Fintan saw of their old settlement under the waves or whether he ever saw his wife, Cassaraghan. He stayed a salmon for a whole cycle of the sun, flashing silver in the rivers and traveling thousands of miles through the northern seas. And that is how Fintan got to know the life of the rivers of Ireland. The next summer, Fintan the salmon was leaping a waterfall on the Shannon when mid-air his fins broadened and turned tawny. His great kite transformed into a hooked beak and his eyes became black and beady and Fintan the

eagle shook the last beads of river water from his feathers and flew up into the heavens. He soared across the blue skies that day to the mountains of the West. Cool. Super cool. This story is really lovely and magical. Fintan, what did you like best, being a salmon or an eagle? That's what I want to know. Or some secret third thing we haven't gotten to yet. Fintan the Eagle explored the island of Ireland from north to south and from east to west.

He saw all the great rivers of Ireland from his bird's eye view. He saw the River Ban, the Barrow, the Blackwater, the Boyne, the Urn, the Shannon, and the Noir, and Loft's... Loft's? What's a lof? Not a laugh or a loft. No, Irish form of a loch. Oh, okay. Okay, cool. Thank you, internet. The Lofts at the coast and the Lofts inland. He learned the play of nature in these great bodies of water, the creatures that needed

their gifts and those who could be preyed upon. That is how Fintan understood the flow of the rivers of Ireland. The next summer, Fintan the eagle was restless. He was chasing a raven through the valleys one morning when— That's rude. He's a son of a bitch eagle. He's maybe a little bit of a scallywag. He's a bit of a scallywag. I don't know.

Maybe. We'll see. Stay tuned. He was chasing a raven through the valleys one morning. When drawing a deeper breath than normal, he felt his wings shrink back, his body compact, and his skull tighten. Fintan the eagle became Fintan the Peregrine Falcon diving for cover. And it was all he could do to escape the mobbing from two very

amused Ravens that day. Ha, ha, it came right back to him. You're like, not so big now, are you? Immediate karma. You know, I don't know, going from eagle to a falcon though, it's not kind of similar. I was thinking he'd be like a bear or a stag or something. Or a snake maybe. Yeah, like a changing species. A land creature. Yeah. But no, he's a falcon now.

All right. I guess that's cool. It is cool. It's neat. Peregrine Fountain is a bird of prey. He's still a bird of prey. Yeah. He's still even a bird. It's not even like a sparrow or something or a raven. That'd be funny. Fintan the falcon roamed the length and breadth of Ireland, his keen eyes observing everything on the land and how the length and breadth of Ireland, his keen eyes observing everything on the land and how the wild creatures were faring. He noticed more humans settling as the waters receded and animals kept within fences. He saw wagons and chariots and great

battles between clans and then the crows making their feasts. He observed new clans arriving from across the sea as old clans made use of some of their magic and forgot the rest. That is how Fintan learned the stories of the rivers of Ireland. One morning the next summer, Fintan woke and found himself curled high in a tree, but without feathers to warm his toes or the wings to reach the ground, Fintan was back in his human form. Oh, did? And in a tree. In a tree? I was like, is he going to be a squirrel? Do they have squirrels in Ireland?

Yeah, I'm sure they do. Who doesn't have squirrels? Squirrels are everywhere. Do they not have squirrel? You know, I don't think they have them in Australia because I remember reading a Tumblr post about how exciting an Australian found it when they saw a squirrel. Yeah, I remember Akiko, she was from Japan and she was amazed by the squirrels. That's right. We have a lot of squirrels here. I forgot how into the squirrels Akiko was. Are there squirrels in Ireland?

We're going to look it up real fast. I want to know. Okay. Yes, they have red squirrels and gray squirrels. Wow, the red squirrels are pretty. That's a really pretty squirrel. Hang on, I'm gonna look at the squirrel now. Because I know what those gray squirrels look like.

Yeah, the gray squirrels are pushing out the reds. Oh, no. Oh, the red squirrels are pretty. Yeah. Really pretty. That looks magical. That looks like a magical woodland creature. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but he does not turn into a red squirrel. He's a human man again. I know, I know. Sorry. I went off. He had a poo on him, but that's... That's my fix for the story, obviously.

He becomes a squirrel. You're going to have a different fix by the time we get to the end. I bet. I mean, I know why I do. Yeah, I'm excited. One morning the next summer, Fintan woke and found himself curled high up in a tree, but without feathers to warm him, blah, blah, blah. He turned back into a man.

I forgot about that. He had to edge along the branch of the great tree he was in and climb clumsily to safety on the ground. Fintan, now back to being 18 years of age, started his journey as a man. He walked all the ancient paths of Ireland and he saw many tribes gain power and fall in their turn. He met a great and fearless leader to the north, a hound of men with a hero light around his head. He helped a great leader to the south, a man with fairy blood who led a famous war band and who gained all the knowledge there was to know in the world. And this is how Fintan could tell the fate of the rivers of Ireland.

But something even more magical happened to Fintan. He never seemed to age as he watched everything birth and live and perish around him. Some say that Fintan lived for many thousands of years and that he knew the rivers and the islands of Ireland and their poetry better than any man alive or dead. One day on the island of Achill in the county of Mayo, Fintan met a hawk perched on a low branch of a rowan tree, and he smiled, for he knew what it felt like to be this creature. The hawk's feathers were battered and scruffy, but his eyes were bright. "'You made it then,' said the hawk of Achill.

"'If you mean that I have seen many things, then let me tell you so you may wonder at them,' replied Fintan, and he sat down beside the hawk and started to tell his stories. Aw, good old buddies. Good old buddies. Feathered, birds of a feather. Wait. Birds of a feather flock together. Something like that.

There we go. I just don't have anything to say. The story is so nice and like it is serious. It's very mysterious and it's very like and it's very lovely and like I don't know there's just something sometimes about like mythology that feels harder to kind of like interject or give commentary on because all of it is all of it is so layered with symbolism. Yeah. And it's less of a funny story happened to this guy I met at the bar. But I hope you're enjoying it though. Oh, absolutely. Yeah, it's very beautiful. I'm excited to see where it's going though. It's almost over. So Fenton tells the hawk everything

he's seen. Yes, I was there too, said the hawk when Fenton told him of the heroes of Ireland. Yes, I was there too, he said when Fenton described the war bands and the tribes and the magic. Yes, I was there too when they were written, he said, after Fenton had recited all of the ancient Irish poetry he had heard, which was to say all the Irish poetry that had ever existed. It sounds like this hawk is like one-upping all of his stories. Yeah, me too. Yeah, I know. I was there too, buddy. Tell me something I don't know. Yes, I saw that and it was lucky I could fly, said the hawk when Fenton told him of the

tidal wave, the great flood, and the death of his wife, Cassare. Then we are about the same great age, you and I, asked Fenton. About 5,500 years old a piece, I reckon, said the hawk. But let me tell you of something now, and this is the part that made me go, oh. Oh, I have a feeling I know what's coming. Have you heard of St. Patrick and the new religion, that of Christ? Yep. There it is. There it is. There it is. The hawk told Fintan what he knew. So our time is done and our stories must end here, said Fintan. Fintan and the hawk died then, under the shade and the protection

of the tree. I know. You have to let it die so Christ could come in. That's the message. But they didn't die completely because now their stories have traveled to you. The end. Cool. Cool. Cool. It is cool. It's a nice, it's an interesting closing note. Yeah. Like I do like the, they didn't die completely because their stories have now traveled to you. Absolutely. Yeah, that's very cool. It is very cool. What I do think, and so now I'm going to give you the context of this

story and then we can decide, I guess, because I want to give you the context before we firmly decide on a fix. Okay. Because I read the story without content. I ignored the italicized paragraph first. So I read the story, definitely was kind of thinking like, oh, about the ending. And I still feel that way a little bit, but it is interesting where it comes from. So Fintan Macbocra first appears in the Lebor Gabala Aaron, which is Irish for the Book of Invasions from the 12th century, which attempts to put ancient Irish history into a biblical context. And it's kind of a book that, from my understanding, was written as part of the conquering of the Irish people and of the

adoption of Christianity and sort of the way that Christianity and Catholicism moved to kind of reinterpret and incorporate a lot of local culture and local mythology and then make it Christian so that people would be more willing to convert. So this was their way of saying like, yes, this is a great story. What a great origin story you have here for your island. So actually, Fintan was the only other survivor of the great flood. And his wife, Kacere, is actually a biblical figure who was one of Noah's daughters, who was refused passage on the ark. And so, in that story, Cassere and her group of like 50 women and like three men say a lot for parts unknown trying to escape the great flood. And so, this is the Irish story that sort of continues that they were unsuccessful. And then this Irish heroic figure from Irish

mythology turns out to be one of those people. And he's the only survivor of the Great Flood in Ireland is how the story was kind of rewritten. And I watched a, I watched like, the video I watched that kind of taught me how to pronounce the names is an interesting video of like just sort of this, of an Irish, an Irish novelist who used parts of this story to inform his own novel, but he's talking in the, in his video about how, you know, it's kind of sad that like the original story of Fentimit Bokra is lost.

Like we don't actually know what the original story was because this is the version that survived, but like it was obviously a part of a larger tapestry of Irish creation myths and creation stories. And he died and the story died along with him. I don't know, it kind of almost seems like- And Irish mythology dies, and Irish mythology is supposed to die with him

according to the instructions of this book. It's funny, because it kind of sounds like, I don't know, it's like, oh, and have you heard about this new religion? And then the magic dies. They've been alive for thousands of years and then they die immediately. Yeah. As soon as St. Patrick hits the shores, boom, he drives all the snakes out of Ireland and apparently he also signs the death certificates of Fintan Macbocra and the Hawk of Achill. The Hawk of Achill is also apparently an Irish

mythological figure. He's the hawk of wisdom and also appears in a lot of different Irish stories. So these are two very central Irish mythological figures that are sort of metaphorically killed and replaced with Christ through this story. Metaphorically and literally in the story. And literally. So I don't like that, obviously. Yeah, yeah. But I do think that adds a really interesting, like anthropological shade on why this story exists at all.

Totally. So I'm not even sure that I necessarily would call it a fix because like my fix would be like, history went differently, I think. Yeah, definitely. Yeah, that's actually I read a lot of stories that had been you could tell they've been altered to have some weird religious ending like Christian ending and it bothered me and like I'm not going to read those. Because you can tell like the story changes so drastically or like like, there's some weird,

like, oh, and this is actually because God, you know, like, even my story of, like, oh, and he put a cross up, like, and I don't know, you can take this rant out if you want, but it's just kind of like... Oh, I'm going to leave it in because I feel like this is, yeah, it's weird. It's like, okay, we get it. Yes, we got it. Ireland is a Christian nation now. You're sucking all the fun out of our cool ghost story.

For fucking real. Quit trying to make it mean something. Like, I don't know, just bums me out. It both bums me out and I think is just a really interesting, just kind of like mythology as propaganda is so... Yeah. It's like, ooh, gross, but interesting. I guess only like sort of final notes on Fintan is he's a compelling

father figure for Ireland and the only Irishman to survive the Great Flood. The name Bokra may refer to his mother or just to the sea in general, but some suggest that Fintan's mother was Banba, one of the three ancient land goddesses of Ireland. That's that story. All right. That was great. Fintan, I'm glad you read that one. That's that story. All right, that was great. Fintan, I'm glad you read that one. That's really cool. I never thought about Ireland creation stories. Right, I loved that.

And that's how he gets to know all the rivers of Ireland. He learns the story and the flow and the life and the fate and all of that stuff. Like, yeah, that's very cool. It was very pretty. As always, Lisa Schneidow, Lisa Schneidow has great collections. Definitely make sure to check out those books. Do you think we have time for like a quick, a quick second one? Yeah, totally. I picked this one because I think I think I definitely said like, what the fuck?

I love that. At the end. That's always the best. When you're reading a story, you say, what the fuck out loud. You're like, what the fuck? So this is the story of Shannon. Okay. Oh, I'm going to write it down. The story of Shannon. Oh, do you want me to make a prediction? I want you to give me two. Shannon freaking rocks. Okay, love it. The story of Shannon, I think Shannon's a person.

Is that your second prediction? That's built into the first prediction is that I think Shannon freaking rocks. Okay, all right. Shannon's a person and she rules. And my second prediction is... I want to predict something spooky. Okay. Something spooky happens.

Something spooky. Something spooky. Something spooky. Obviously that's what I want. That's the only story I want to hear. Give me something spooky. Okay, so I think I'm going to give you the context upfront. Okay, this time. So basically this is the story, this is the origin story of the River Shannon, which is

the Shannon in, yeah. Gotcha. The Shannon might still rock, but I don't think so. At 224 miles long, the River Shannon is the longest river in Ireland and in the British Isles as a whole. It divides Ireland into East and West with relatively few crossing points, starting at the Shannon Pot below Cullicog Mountain in the county cavern and flowing through or between 11 counties before meeting the estuary at Limerick. The importance of the Shannon was first recorded by Ptolemy in the second century. There are several myths about how the river began, all of them involving Shannon,

the granddaughter of MacNan and McLeer, god of the sea and ruler of the other world. Hell yeah. Hell fucking yeah. So Shannon is a person. Originally. The notion of a woman or goddess, blah, blah, blah. Actually, I'm not going to tell you that because that gives way to the end of the story. Boop, boop, boop. I'll read that at the end. I know sometimes the context does give away too much. That's why I kind of like reading it afterwards. I did want to… This is why I read it because they mentioned there's a place that is mentioned

in this book that has two different names and they switch in between them. So this is the context for that. Traditionally, Shannon Pot, which is the first crossing point, is also called Conala's Well, which is in folklore referred to as the otherworldly Irish Well of Wisdom, although other places also lay claim to this title. Conala means great lord and it's a frequent name in Irish mythology. And it is often identified as the pool where the salmon of knowledge lived. More salmon. More salmon. Love it.

Okay. Now we'll get to the story proper. Okay. Shannon was a graceful woman and skilled at crafts. She was known. Yeah, she was. She was a crafty queen and the granddaughter of the god of the sea. Yeah, so cool. So cool. She was known the length and breadth of Ireland for the quality of her weaving. The fine cloth she made was second to none and some said it shimmered with more than the flaxen warp and weft because Shannon was a granddaughter of Mananan MacLeer himself. But if you were to meet Shannon, you would find a very ordinary woman. You would see no trace of

her magical ancestry. She was practical, she was direct, and she thought in very logical ways. The meanders and mysteries of a poet's heart were not available to Shannon. Get out of here. She's like the opposite of Fintan. Yeah, that's funny. As she grew older, as she perfected her craft and brought delight to everyone in Ireland with her cloth, Shannon started to doubt herself and she felt empty. She has imposter syndrome. She does, poor thing. Relatable. Yes, a relatable queen.

Relatable queen. Who loves her crafts. Exactly. What good are practical things, she thought. Practical things will never tug at the heart or tickle the imagination of the bards and they will never last. Everything in my life is dull. Aww, I've been there. I mean, same. Like again, Shannon is a relatable queen. So therefore, thus, it follows completely logically, Shannon decided she wanted to learn magic. Hell yeah, yeah girl. How fucking yes. And inspiration and the divine arts and she wanted to weave magic. Hell yeah, big girl. Hell fucking yes. And inspiration and the divine arts, and she wanted to weave them

into her work. Oh, hell yeah. Cool. I know. That's such a good idea. So she decides to start with her ancestry, traveling to her grandfather's realm under the sea, the other world itself. Wow. Manon and MacLear listened gravely to his granddaughter's request and stroked his beard and thought. I cannot help you, he said at last. To gain sacred inspiration, you need to access it at the correct place. You need to find the place where the human world and the other world meet directly, and that is at Condal's Well, where the hazel trees give their magic to the water. But mind, you, Shannon, are not allowed to drink the waters of the well to gain its wisdom.

That blessing is only allowed for Nekton and his three cup bearers. Well, why? Why, though? Shannon wonders why, too. Shannon cries out, that's not fair. Why though? Shannon wonders why too. Shannon cries out, that's not fair. Uh-huh, I was just thinking that. It's not fair and she's totally going to drink that water. Of course she is.

She's totally going to drink that water. She is one of the original fairy tale heroines from a story about 5,000 years old and of course she's going to drink that fucking water. Her dad gives her the classic dad answer. Because I said so? No, life isn't fair. That's one. He says, fair or not, that is the way of things said Manana McGleer. Okay, fair or not, that is the way of things, said Manana McGleer.

Okay, dad or… Okay, dad. Pa-pa. And dad. Pa-pa. Pa-pa. P-pa. Oh my God.

It kills me. Okay. Shannon left the other world with a puzzle muddling her mind. Was it possible for her to gain the sacred inspiration of Connell as well without drinking its water and angering the gods? What do you think, Kelsey? No. Yeah. It's a stupid question. Who cares about angering the gods? They're always mad anyway. It's true. It's true. She traveled north for a long way before she

found the right place at the foot of a great hill. Soon, Shannon was standing before Connell's well itself, and the clouds in the sky reflected from its shimmering surface as dragonflies darted across the water. Many branched hazel trees sprouted from the water's edge and leaned suggestively over the pool. Suggestively? They're like, here it is. Don't you want to drink it? But the world underneath the water was a mystery forbidden to her. world underneath the water was a mystery forbidden to her. Shannon gazed on the beautiful scene, pushed back her dark hair inside. Goodness knows how many hazelnuts had fallen in there over the years and how much magic the water held,

but how could she access just a tiny part of that magic, that inspiration for herself? There has to be a way. She knelt on the bank of the pool and looked closer at the water and then she laughed. Tiny little bubbles were rising from the deep and one by one they popped, now there, now gone. A little hazelnut floated lazily on the water in a mass of little bubbles. Here was the place where the air met the water in miniature. Shannon was entranced. She started playing with the bubbles, catching them on her fingers before they disappeared. That's so cute. It's such a magical scene.

It is. It's a very magical scene. Someone should paint it. I'm sure someone has. Shannon leaned further in and further until the inevitable happened. She lost her balance and fell into the water. She scrambled for a foothold, but there was none and she could not swim. Sinking beneath the surface, flailing wildly, she took a huge gulp of water. And at that moment, Shannon angered the gods. The waters of Connell as well rose up in fury all around her, boiling and bubbling and overflowing from the banks. They carried her body away from that place in a torrent, running south over the Greenland. Shannon knew nothing more as the water filled her lungs. Her skin was pallid and her skillful

fingers were wrinkled as the water deposited her body in a shallow, hundreds of miles downstream in the new river that still bears her name. As the clear waters played with her flowing dark hair and kissed her lifeless skin, Shannon's body began to dissolve, and all her wisdom and skill and longing and energy dissolved into the water with it. And that is how Shannon became the river and the river became her. The end. So good. I know. I love that.

Me too. It's not exactly like a what the fuck at the end, but I think I did still go like, oh, what the fuck? Like when she tripped and fell over and drowned. I'm going to argue I get both of those points. Shannon freaking rocks. And there was something spooky. Yeah. No, you totally get those points. Awesome.

You get them. You nailed it. It was kind of spooky. It was kind of spooky. At the end there. Yeah. Especially it's like describing her dead body flowing down the river. And that she becomes the river and the river becomes her.

I loved that line. Like that was really cool. Like I got little chills. I was like, whoo. Yeah. The river Shannon. Aw. And so, and I love that now we know the story

of how the river Shannon got its name or was created. I like to think maybe she didn't die, but she just became the river. Yeah, well, that like is one that says that like this, the river now gets her spirit and her energy and her wisdom and her craft and her like, you know. So she lives on just in another form. Just in another form.

I want that to be true too. She just transitioned. That she did learn magic. But she's a river now. I wonder if there are local legends about drinking the water from it. Cause I know in Ireland in general, there's a lot of like places where you go and like stick your face in the water or, you know.

Maybe, yeah. Now I do wonder if they're connected myths about the Shannon. All right. Well, I think that is going to do it for us today for the first episode of Irish Fairy Tale Month. Thank you so much for listening to Fairy Tale Fix. If you enjoyed the show, please subscribe. Leave us a review on Spotify or Apple. If you love the show and want to support us, you can get extra episodes and other cool bonus content.

Sometimes patrons get to help us name episodes. You can sign up for that at fairytalefix.cash or what is it? patreon.com forward slash fairytalefixpod. That's the one. Either one should work. I love that all of you picked the Crab Father for episode 102. Bless you. Yeah.

That's the one I was hoping would win. Me too. I loved it so much. We had such a blast with that. I loved all of those titles though. I also wanted to say I loved how For the Cuth. For the Cuth. It got so many votes without any context, which I think is really funny.

Anyway, you can also find us on Instagram at Fairy Tail Fix Pod and please email us your favorite fairy tales. Give us some ideas. Do we, do you have an Irish fairy tale that you've been dying for us to read? Send it to us immediately, please. You can also email us at info at fairytalefixpot.com. The gold was never recovered because Sheila of the Knife just kept scaring away everyone and the gold remained hidden in the old castle ruins haunted by Sheila of the Knife. And I don't know the world's kind of a

crapshoot and we all get to grapple with revisionist history and think really hard about how mythology that anyone tells us, especially about our own country, especially in something maybe called US history class, is really just a propaganda tool for the ruling class to tell us how we should feel about history. Amazing. Amazing, and also we hope Shannon's doing all right.

And they all lived happily ever after. The end.