Koloocheh

These are Koloocheh (Persian کلوچه) or Koleecheh (Persian کلیچه ) - golden round cookies decorated with spirals and made for Perisan new year. 

The name of these cookies comes from Middle Persian "kulachag" (round bun). Further etymology is unknown... 

Hmmm...Maybe...

In Slavic languages any round (originally ceremonial) bread or cake was called "kolač" (pronounced kolach).

Serbian Christmas and Slava "kolač" examples...

The word "kolač" comes "kolo" (wheel, spinning circle). Hence "kolo" also being the name for the Slavic ceremonial circular dance...I talked about this in my post "Oro" and "Shield of Achiles"...

Fresco from the 14th century Serbian Lesnovo monastery, today located in Macedonia.

So the word "kolač" does mean "round, circular" bread, cake...But the name has additional meaning of "spinning, turning, rotating"...

Ceremonial cakes are rotated 3 times "s leva na desno" (from left to right), by the family members, before they are broken and eaten...

Turning "from left to right" is also known as "sunwise" and was apparently a big thing in the past...Cause that's the way sun moves across the sky...I talked about this in my post "Sunwise"...

Now it is interesting that the Iranian Koloocheh/Koleecheh cookies are made with spirals...Which are a symbol of rotation...

They are also made as ritual cookies for New Year...The day when the old solar year ends and new solar year begins...Now Slavs imagined solar year as an ever spinning solar wheel (kolo)...

The Slavic name of the old "New Year" celebration, Winter Solstice celebration, was Koljada, Koleda, Kolenda...It marked the end of one and the beginning of another spin of the solar wheel...Kalendar...🙂

Remember this post, "Janus", about Janus and Juno and wheels within wheels? 

Or this post, "Young god", about the Serbian folk song celebrating the birth of the New Sun (God) or New Solar Year: "Pass me cold water, o Koledo, to bath the young god, Božića Svarožić...His horse is the bright sun, a flaming war steed"...

Or this post, "The end of time", about the Koledari, traditional Slavic carol singers who went from house to house during Koleda (Originally Winter Solstice, but now Christmas) singing ritual songs celebrating the immanent brith of the new god (once new Sun God, now Son of God)...

But look a this...This is one of the traditional Koleda (Christmas, Winter Solstice, New Solar Year) ritual breads from Bulgaria...Looks familiar? 

Also some Serbian votive breads were actually made in a shape of "kolo" (wheel). Serbian Votive bread (kovrtanj, kolač, kravaj).  

The word "kovrtanj" most likely comes from "kolo" (wheel) + "vrt" (spin)...We find the same word in Russian kovriga (коврига) meaning "round bread", which was mentioned in the Primary Chronicle under year 1074. Funnily enough, according to the linguists, "its ultimate etymological origin is uncertain"...How about Ko(lo)+vr(t)+ga = wheel+spin+it???

On Xmas morning the bread was brought to the threshing floor, pulled on the central stake, and then the father and the children would walk on hay, around the stake, holding onto the bread... 

You know, threshing floors, circular platforms with the central pole...

Where grain was threshed by waling around the and around the central pole

I talked about this in my post "God's threshing floor"...

Threshing floor which was in the past used as a solar observatory, with the central pole serving as a "gnomon"...

Threshing floor on top of which, for some weird reason, the First Temple was built. The First Temple, which according to the Josiah, Jews worshiped the Sun God...I talked about this in my posts "Boaz and Jachin", "The sun god from the First Temple" and "The tree of light (life)"...

But I am digressing...

These Serbian "wheel breads" (kolač, kovrtanj, vrtanek) were also used as part of the first footer (Christmas, New Year) rituals in Serbia and Bulgaria...

If the first footer was a man, kovrtanj was placed on man's head. 

I used AI to enhance this image

If the first footer was a bull, kovrtanj was placed on bull's horns...If anyone knows of a picture of a bull with kovrtanj on his horn, please post the link in the comments, so I can add it to the article. 

I used AI go generate this image

I talked about this in my post "First-footer"...

And in Bulgaria, In return for good wishes, the Koledari Carol Singer, receive gifts of food and ritual ring-shaped breads, "Коледно колаче" (Koledno kolache) meaning little Christmas circular bread or "кравай". 

Which they string on the wooden sticks they carry with them...

Pic from "Българска Етнография" by Николай Колев

These breads were often made by the young women in the family...Some kind of symbolism here, wheel breads and sticks...

So we have all these Slavic words with the root "kolo" (wheel) used for ritual circular breads, ritual circular dances, new year rituals...

And yet...

According to linguists: 

The similarity of Slavic "kolač" to Middle Persian "kulachag" (small, round bun) and Ancient Greek "κολλύρα" (koloura) (loaf of bread) may be coincidental as it is difficult to explain through usual models of inheritance and borrowing...

BTW, the Ancient Greek "κολλύρα", from which modern Greek "κουλούρι" (kuluri) is believed to be "of Pre Greek origin"...

I know, difficult, difficult...Not difficult to explain...Difficult to accept...That all these ancient Non Slavic words for round breads have the root in Slavic "kolo" (circle, wheel)...

BTW, in Turkey, this type of wheel bread is called simit. 

The word simit comes from Arabic samīd (سميد) "white bread" or "fine flour". Ceremonial breads were in the past the only breads made from white flour...

Another name for these breads in Turkish is gevrek meaning "crisp", and this word in a form of "djevrek" is now used for these wheel breads in all the Slavic Balkan lands, thanks to multi century Ottoman Turkish cultural influence...

What is very interesting is that simit/gevrek only became a thing in Ottoman Empire since the 16h century...It was most likely a Slavic cultural import... 

I forgot the most important bit. The recipes 🙂

Recipe for Koloocheh, Recipe for Koledno kolache, Recipe for Kovrtanj

Willow whistle

Willow whistles and flutes are made in the spring when willow sap rises and loosens the bark...

Because they were easy to make, these flutes and whistles were favourite kids instruments...(Pic The Willow Whistle, 1888, Ellen Day Hale)

Now if you wanted to have a musical child, that can make music and not noise, this is what you were advised to do in 18th century Sweden:

"In the spring fetch water from a stream that flows southwards. The water should be taken where it murmurs the most loudly..." (Pic Kamajokk river Sweden)

"...Then a child's parent should blow into the water with a willow flute that a child had used. The child then has to drink this water for three days on an empty stomach. This would ensure that the child would have a very good ear for music"...

That would also insure that the child's parent would save his/her ears 🙂

This music spell can be found (with loads of other interesting stuff related to ancient European musical instruments) in "Music and sounds in ancient Europe"...

Now there were times when you wanted to make noise and not music with your willow whistles, flutes and trumpets...Like these ones from the Balkans:

During the night before St George's day, in the Balkans, these instruments were blown "to scare witches (winter) away"...

I talked about this in my post "May horns"...

A lot more interesting Slavic willow folklore can be found in my article "Willow in Slavic folklore"...

Yule log in English tradition

Have you cut your Yule log yet?

"The ancient fire-festival of the winter solstice...has survived...in the custom of the Yule log...[once]...widespread in Europe, it seems to have flourished especially in England, France, and among the South Slavs"...From "The Golden Bough"... 

I wrote about South Slavic Yule log customs in my posts "Badnjak" and "First footer"...

I wrote about old French Yule log customs in my post "La buche de noel"...

In this post I will write about Yule log customs from England:

Robert Chambers, in his 1864 work, "Book of Days" notes that "one of popular observances belonging to Christmas is more especially derived from the worship of our pagan ancestors: the burning of the Yule log."

Clement A. Miles in Christmas in "Ritual and Tradition" published in 1912, says: 

"...within the memory of many [Yule log] was a very essential element in the [Christmas] celebration...not just for warmth, but as possessing...magical properties..."

"In some remote corners of England it probably lingers yet. English customs, they can hardly be better introduced than in Robert Herrick's words:  

"We may note especially that the [Yule log] must be kindled with last year's brand; here there is a distinct suggestion that the lighting of the log at Christmas is a shrunken remnant of the keeping up of a perpetual fire..."

Another tradition and its origin are thus described by Sir Laurence Gomme in "Folk Lore Relics of Early Village Life"...

"From there being an ever-burning fire, it has come to be that the fire must not be allowed to be extinguished on the last day of the old year, so that the old year's fire may last into the new year"...

"In Lanarkshire it is considered unlucky to give out a light to any one on the morning of the new year, and...if the house-fire has been allowed to become extinguished recourse must be had to the embers of the village fire [on New Year's Eve a great public bonfire is made]"...

J. Ashton, in "A righte Merrie Christmasse!!" says: "In the north of England...[over Christmas] it was useless to ask a neighbour for light, so frightfully unlucky was it to allow any light to leave the house between Christmas Eve and New Year's Day"...

Georgina F. Jackson say in "Shropshire Folk-Lore: A Sheaf of Gleanings": 

"In Shropshire the idea is extended even to ashes, which must not be thrown out of the house on Christmas Day, 'for fear of throwing them in Our Saviour's face'"...

"Perhaps such superstitions may originally have had to do with dread that the 'luck' of the family, the house spirit...might be carried away with the gift of fire from the hearth"...

"In the 1880s there were still many West Shropshire people who could remember seeing the Christmas Brand drawn by horses to the farmhouse door, and placed at the back of the wide open hearth, where the flame was made up in front of it"...

"The embers, says one informant, were raked up to it every night, and it was carefully tended that it might not go out during  the whole season, during which time no light might either be struck, given, or borrowed"...

"At Cleobury Mortimer in the south-east of the county the silence of the bells during 'the Christmas' points to a time when fires might not be extinguished during that season"...

In 1849 "Notes and Queries" George Bell says: "The place of the Yule log in Devonshire is taken by the "ashen faggot" (sticks of ash fastened together by ashen bands), still burnt in many a farm on Christmas Eve...

In 1740 "Observations on Popular Antiquities", Henry Bourne writes: "Our Fore-Fathers lit up Candles of an uncommon Size, which were called Christmas-Candles, and layed a Log of Wood upon the Fire, which they termed a Yule-Clog, or Christmas-Block"...

"The Yule-Clog therefore...seems to have been used, as an Emblem of the return of the Sun, and the lengthening of the Days. For as both December and January were called Guili or Yule, upon Account of the Sun's Returning, and the Increase of the Days"...

"So, I am apt to believe, the Log has had the Name of the Yule-Log, from its being burnt as an Emblem of the returning Sun, and the Increase of its Light and Heat"...

H. J Rose says in 1923 "Folklore Scraps": "In the last generation the Yule log was still burned, and a piece of it saved to light the next year's log"...

In the 1790 "The Gentleman's Magazine", we can read that: "In England the Yule log was often supplemented or replaced by a great candle"...

"At Ripon in the eighteenth century the chandlers sent their customers large candles on Christmas Eve, and the coopers, logs of wood"...

And finally: In 1841 "Medii Aevi Kalendarium", Hampson says: "Candle that is lighted on Christmas Day must be so large as to burn from the time of its ignition to the close of the day, otherwise it will portend evil to the family for the ensuing year"...

So basically Christmas candle is just a Yule log in disguise...

Anyway, may your fire burn bright...

Merry Christmas eve to all who celebrate Christmas tomorrow...

Long ears

There is a very unusual story about a king with long (goat's or donkey's or horse's or ox's) ears and his barber. This story has only been preserved as a folk tale in a few places. Are these places connected with each other in some way? 

Midas, Greece

Bacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and foster-father, Silenus, missing. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. Bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice.

Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power, which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it changed to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took up an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table. Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lip, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold.

In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity, heard and consented. "Go," said he, "to River Pactolus, trace its fountain-head, there plunge yourself and body in, and wash away your fault and its punishment." He did so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the gold-creating power passed into them, and the river sands became changed into gold, as they remain to this day.

Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the country, and became a worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields. On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen umpire. The senior took his seat, and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen.

At a given signal Pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower Midas, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the Sun-god, and all his trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with Parnassian laurel, while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre, and with his right hand struck the strings. Ravished with the harmony, Tmolus at once awarded the victory to the god of the lyre, and all but Midas acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented, and questioned the justice of the award. Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to increase in length, grow hairy, within and without, and movable on their roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an ass.

Mortified enough was King Midas at this mishap: but he consoled himself with the thought that it was possible to hide his misfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban or head-dress. But his hairdresser of course knew the secret. He was charged not to mention it, and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey. But he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place.

Source: Thomas Bulfinch, The Age of Fable (1855), chapter 6.

Bulfinch's source: Ovid, Metamorphoses, book 11, and other classical writers.


The Goat's Ears of the Emperor Trojan, Serbia

Once upon a time there lived an emperor whose name was Trojan, and he had ears like a goat. Every morning, when he was shaved, he asked if the man saw anything odd about him, and as each fresh barber always replied that the emperor had goat's ears, he was at once ordered to be put to death.

Now after this state of things had lasted a good while, there was hardly a barber left in the town that could shave the emperor, and it came to be the turn of the Master of the Company of Barbers to go up to the palace. But, unluckily, at the very moment that he should have set out, the master fell suddenly ill, and told one of his apprentices that he must go in his stead.

When the youth was taken to the emperor's bedroom, he was asked why he had come and not his master. The young man replied that the master was ill, and there was no one but himself who could be trusted with the honor. The emperor was satisfied with the answer, and sat down, and let a sheet of fine linen be put round him.

Directly the young barber began his work, he, like the rest, remarked the goat's ears of the emperor, but when he had finished and the emperor asked his usual question as to whether the youth had noticed anything odd about him, the young man replied calmly, "No, nothing at all."

This pleased the emperor so much that he gave him twelve ducats, and said, "Henceforth you shall come every day to shave me."

So when the apprentice returned home, and the master inquired how he had got on with the emperor, the young man answered, "Oh, very well, and he says I am to shave him every day, and he has given me these twelve ducats"; but he said nothing about the goat's ears of the emperor.

From this time the apprentice went regularly up to the palace, receiving each morning twelve ducats in payment. But after a while, his secret, which he had carefully kept, burnt within him, and he longed to tell it to somebody. His master saw there was something on his mind, and asked what it was. The youth replied that he had been tormenting himself for some months, and should never feel easy until some one shared his secret.

"Well, trust me," said the master, "I will keep it to myself; or, if you do not like to do that, confess it to your pastor, or go into some field outside the town and dig a hole, and, after you have dug it, kneel down and whisper your secret three times into the hole. Then put back the earth and come away."

The apprentice thought that this seemed the best plan, and that very afternoon went to a meadow outside the town, dug a deep hole, then knelt and whispered to it three times over, "The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears." And as he said so a great burden seemed to roll off him, and he shoveled the earth carefully back and ran lightly home.

Weeks passed away, and there sprang up in the hole an elder tree which had three stems, all as straight as poplars. Some shepherds, tending their flocks near by, noticed the tree growing there, and one of them cut down a stem to make flutes of; but, directly he began to play, the flute would do nothing but sing: "The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears." Of course, it was not long before the whole town knew of this wonderful flute and what it said; and, at last, the news reached the emperor in his palace.

He instantly sent for the apprentice and said to him, "What have you been saying about me to all my people?"

The culprit tried to defend himself by saying that he had never told anyone what he had noticed; but the emperor, instead of listening, only drew his sword from its sheath, which so frightened the poor fellow that he confessed exactly what he had done, and how he had whispered the truth three times to the earth, and how in that very place an elder tree had sprung up, and flutes had been cut from it, which would only repeat the words he had said. Then the emperor commanded his coach to be made ready, and he took the youth with him, and they drove to the spot, for he wished to see for himself whether the young man's confession was true; but when they reached the place only one stem was left. So the emperor desired his attendants to cut him a flute from the remaining stem, and, when it was ready, he ordered his chamberlain to play on it. But no tune could the chamberlain play, though he was the best flute player about the court -- nothing came but the words, "The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears."

Then the emperor knew that even the earth gave up its secrets, and he granted the young man his life, but he never allowed him to be his barber any more.

Source: Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 52-54.

Lang's source: Volksmärchen der Serben.


The King with the Horse's Ears, Ireland

The story I'm going to tell you is not to be met every day. I heard little Tom Kennedy, the great schoolmaster of Rossard, say that he read it in the history of Ireland, and that it happened before the people were Christian. It is about a king who had his hair cut only once a year. He lived in some old city on the borders of Carlow and Kilkenny, and his name was a queer one: Lora Lonshach it was.

So, as I said, he got his hair cut only once a year, and afterward nothing more was ever heard of the barber who did it. This happened to about seven unlucky fellows, and then no barber would come close the castle for love or money. So the king proclaimed that all the barbers in the country were to draw lots, and if the one who got the short straw would dare to refuse, he would be put to death.

The short straw was drawn by a poor widow's son named Thigueen. Fearing that she would never again see her son, the mother ran to the castle and beseeched the king to spare him the fate of the previous barbers.

"You'll get your boy back safe and sound," promised the king.

The next day the frightened barber reported for duty.

"My good fellow," said the king, "you'll be at liberty to go wherever you please after cutting my hair, but you must swear Dar lamh an Righ (by the king's hand) that you'll never tell anything that has ears and tongue what you see here today."

The king sat down on his throne and took off his hood, revealing two brown horse's ears, quite as long as those of an ass.

"Pick up your scissors and do your job!" he ordered.

The poor lad did as best he could, taking special care not to nick the king's ears.

When the job was finished, the king paid him, saying, "Now, my lad, if I ever hear word of this, I'll make you wish that you had never been born."

The boy returned to his mother, only to fall into bed, deathly ill. She asked him what ailed him, but he gave no answer.

Two days later the doctor came.

"I have a secret," said poor Thigueen. If I cannot tell it, I'll die, and if I do tell it, I'll not be allowed to live."

When the doctor heard that the secret was not to be told to anyone with a tongue or ears, he said, "Go into the woods, make a split in the bark of one of the trees, tell your secret into the cut."

The doctor was hardly out of the house when Thigueen got up and went into the woods, not stopping until he reached the middle, a place where two paths crossed one another. At this spot he found a healthy tree, cut a gash in its bark, and then whispered into it, "Da Chluais Chapail ar Labhradh Loingseach," which means, "The two ears of a horse has Lora Lonshach."

The poor fellow had hardly whispered these words when he felt as if a mountain had been lifted off his back.

Before a year passed, when again it would be time for the king's haircut, a great harp-playing match was announced, a contest between Craftine, the king's harper, and anyone who dared play against him. The other four kings of Ireland were invited, as well as all the lords and ladies who chose to travel so far. One week before the appointed day, Craftine found a crack in his harp, so he went into the forest to look for wood for a new one.

Where should bad luck send him but to the very tree that Thigueen had told his secret to! Craftine cut it down and fashioned it into the finest harp you have ever seen, and when he tried it, he himself was enchanted with its beautiful music.

The great day came at last, and the big hall in the palace was crammed. The king was on his high throne, with the four other kings before him. On either side were all the great lords and ladies, around the open place in the center where the harpers were sitting.

Craftine began. He first played so mournfully that all who heard him were grief-stricken. Then he played a merry jig, and because there was no room to dance, everyone shouted out for joy. Next came a war-like march, and everyone who had room drew his sword and waved it over his head, each one crying out the war-cry of his own chief or king. Finally he played a beautiful heavenly tune, and they all closed their eyes, hoping that the beautiful music would never come to an end.

When Craftine finally ceased playing, gold and silver were thrown in showers to him. Then the harpers of Leinster, Munster, Connaught, and Ulster tried their hands, and, sure enough, they played very well, but not nearly as well as Craftine.

When they were finished, the king said to Craftine, "Give us one more tune to finish decently, and put all that we invited in good humor for their dinner."

"I am afraid of my harp," answered Craftine. "It wasn't my fingers that struck out the music, but the music that stirred my fingers. There is magic in that harp, and I fear it will play us some trick."

"Trick be hanged!" said the king. "Play away!"

The harper had to obey his king, and he took up his harp, but he had hardly touched the strings, when a loud voice came from them, shouting, "Da Chluais Chapail ar Labhradh Loingseach!"

The startled king put his hands to his head, not knowing what he was doing, and in his fumbling he loosened the bands of his hood, revealing the two long hairy ears. What a roar came from the crowd! King Lora was not able to stand it, and in a trance he fell down from his throne. In a few minutes he had the hall to himself, except for his harper and some of his old servants.

They say that when he came to himself, he was very sorry for all the poor barbers that he had put out of the way, and that he pensioned their wives and mothers. From then on Thigueen was no more concerned about giving the king a haircut than he would have been about giving one to you or to me.

Source: Abstracted from Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts, 2nd edition (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1891, pp. 219-225.


March's Ears (1), Wales (Llyn peninsula inhabited by the Irish)

One of Arthur's warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion, was lord of Castellmarch in Lleyn. This man had horse's ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill every man he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe.

The pipe would give no other sound than "March Amheirchion has horse's ears."

When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears.

Source: John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), v. 1, pp. 233-234.

March's Ears (2), Wales (Llyn peninsula inhabited by the Irish)

March ab Meirchion was lord of Castellmarch, in Lleyn. He ruled over leagues of rich land, tilled by hundreds of willing and obedient vassals. He had great possessions, fleet horses, greyhounds, hawks, countless black cattle and sheep, and a great herd of swine. (But few possessed pigs at that time, and their flesh was esteemed better than the flesh of oxen. Arthur himself sought to have one of March's sows.) In his palace he had much treasure of gold, silver, and Conway pearls, and all men envied him.

But March was not happy. He had a secret, and day and night he was torn with dread lest it should be discovered. He had horse's ears!

To no one was the secret known except his barber. This man he compelled to take a solemn oath that he would not reveal his deformity to any living soul. If he wittingly or unwittingly should let anyone know that March's ears were other than human, March swore that he would cut his head off.

The barber became as unhappy as March. Indeed his wretchedness was greater, because his fate would be worse if the secret were revealed. March would undergo ridicule, which is certainly a serious thing, but the barber would undergo decapitation, which is much more serious.

The secret disagreed with his constitution so violently that he lost his appetite and his color, and began to fall into a decline.

So ill did he become that he had to call in a physician. This man was skilled in his craft, and he said to the barber, "You are being killed by a suppressed secret. Unless you communicate it to someone you will soon be in your grave."

This announcement did not give the barber much consolation. He explained to the physician that if he did as he was directed he would lose his head. If in any event he had to come to the end of his earthly career, he preferred being interred with his head joined to, rather than separated from, his trunk.

The physician then suggested that he should tell his secret to the ground.

The barber thought there was not much danger to his cervical vertebrae (this is the learned name for neck bones) if he did this, and adopted the suggestion. He was at once relieved. His color and appetite gradually came back, and before long he was as strong and well as he had ever been.

Now it happened that a fine crop of reeds grew on the spot where the barber whispered his secret to the ground.

March prepared a great feast, and sent for one of Maelgwn Gwynedd's pipers, who was the best piper in the word, to make music for his guests.

On his way to Castellmarch, the piper observed these fine reeds, and as his old pipe was getting worn out, he cut them and made an excellent new pipe. When his guests had eaten and drunk, March ordered the piper to play.

What was the surprise of all when the pipe gave out no music, but only the words, "Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion, horse's ears for March ab Meirchion," over and over again.

March drew his sword and would have slain the piper, but the hapless musician begged for mercy. He was not to blame, he said. He had tried to play his wonted music, but the pipe was charmed, and do what he would, he could get nothing out of it but the words, "Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion."

March tried the pipe himself, but even he could not elicit any strains from it, but only the words, "Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion."

So he forgave the piper and made no further effort to conceal his deformity.

Source: W. Jenkyn Thomas, The Welsh Fairy Book (London: T. Fisher Unwin, Ltd., [1908], pp. 93-95.

          The horse's ears of King Mark of Cornwall  

The myth is also known in Brittany where the king Mark of Cornwall is believed to have ruled the south-western region of Cornouaille. Chasing a white doe, he loses his best horse Morvarc'h (Seahorse) when the doe kills it with an arrow thrown by Mark. Trying to kill the doe, he is cursed by Dahut, a magician who lives under the sea. She gives life to Morvarc'h back but switches his ears and mane with Mark's ears and hair. 

Worried that the word might get out, Mark hides in his castle and kills every barber that comes to cut his hair until his milk brother Yeun is the last barber alive in Cornouaille. He promises to let him live if Yeun keeps the secret and Yeun cuts his hairs with a magical pair of scissors. The secret is too heavy for Yeun though and he goes to a beach to dig a hole and tell his secret in it. When he leaves, three reeds appear. 

Years later, when Mark's sister marries, the musicians are unable to play for the reeds of their bagpipes and bombards have been stolen by brigands. They find three reeds on the beach and use them to make new ones, but the instruments, instead of playing music, only sing "The King Mark has the ears and the mane of his horse Morvarc'h on his head" and Mark departs never to be seen again.  

Source: Larvol, Gwenole. Ar Roue Marc'h a zo gantañ war e benn moue ha divskouarn e varc'h Morvarc'h   

 

          The Child with the Ears of an Ox, India

Once upon a time a son was born to a certain raja, and the child had the ears of an ox. The raja was very much ashamed and let no one know. But the secret could not be kept from the barber who had to perform the ceremony of shaving the child's head. However, the raja made the barber vow not to tell anyone of what he had seen.

So the barber went away, but the secret which he might not tell had an unfortunate effect. It made his stomach swell to an enormous size. As the barber went along in this unhappy condition he met a Dom [member of a low caste, comprising scavangers, basketmakers, and drummers] who asked why his stomach was so swollen. The barber said that it was because he had shaved the raja's child and had seen that it had the ears of an ox. Directly he had broken his vow and blurted out the secret, his stomach returned to its usual size.

The Dom went his way and cut down a tree and made a drum out of the wood, and went about playing on the drum and begging. He came to the raja's palace, and there he drummed and sang: "The son of the raja has the ears of an ox."

When the raja heard this, he was very angry, and swore to punish the barber who must have broken his vow. But the Dom assured the raja that he knew nothing about the matter, that it was the drum that sang the words and not he, and that he had no idea what they meant. So the raja was pacified, and the barber was not punished.

Source: Cecil Henry Bompas Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 53, p. 171.

King of Ossounes with donkey's ears

In pre-Islamic legend of Central Asia, the king of the Ossounes of the Yenisei basin had donkey's ears. He would hide them, and order each of his barbers killed to hide his secret. The last barber among his people was counselled to whisper the heavy secret into a well after sundown, but he didn't cover the well afterwards. The well water rose and flooded the kingdom, creating the waters of Lake Issyk-Kul. 

This is such an obscure story, that there is no way that all these people could have come up with it independently. Accepted opinion is that this story was invented by Phrygians in Anatolia, it was then recorded by the Ancient Greeks who then passed it to Indians, Central Asians, and Romans, who then passed it on to the Irish and the Serbs...

Few questions:

How was this story transmitted? Through written texts? By learned men? The stories recorded in Ireland and Serbia were recorded among illiterate peasants...How did they learn the story in the first place?

Also do the Serb, Irish, Breton, Indian and Central Asian peasants and shepherds have a weird taste in legends, that no one else has, considering that it was only them who preserved this mad story as a folk legend, but not Greeks, Turks, Italians...And they didn't preserve the actual Phrygian story about the actual Phrygian king Midas. Which you would expect if all these people learned the story from the same Greco-Roman source. No. They actually have their own story with their own king and their own ears (horse, ox, goat)...Cultural appropriation?

Don't really know what to think about all this.... 

Anyway, you can read abut why I don't think that the choice of ears given to King Midas by Apollo was random in my post "Onager".

Katun

Orlovačko jezero, Zelengora, Bosnia. Highland pastures like these were in the past used by shepherds to graze their flocks during summer months. 

During the summer shepherds lived in camps called "katun" in shacks which had stone base, wooden log cabin or double and wattle walls and roofs either constructed from wooden panels or thatch. 

This is another "katun" shepherd summer camp from Bosnia. This one is next to the Prokoško Lake under Vranica Mountain. Apparently these and many other katun huts are now rented to hikers...

Flocks were moved to the highland pastures around Djudjevdan (St George's day, beginning of May, beginning of summer) and were moved down from the highlands around Mitrovdan (St Demetrios day, beginning of November, beginning of winter). These two dates separated the Solar year into two parts: White part (summer) between Djurdjevdan and Mitrovdan and Black part (Winter) between Mitrovdan and Djurdjevdan. This is the same year division also found in Gaelic calendar...

You can read about this calendar in my post "Two crosses"

This is a great recent picture of one of the "katun" shepherd summer huts from Montenegro. Incredible place... 

 

Another, now abandoned "katun" shepherd summer hut from Montenegro. Kuči mountains, Montenegro. 

In Serbia these shepherds huts are called bačija. 

This is one of the bačija  shepherd huts from Rudno on mountain Golija in Serbia. 

Here is another one from mountain Kopaonik, Serbia

And another one from Pester highlands in Serbia

New house

In the past in Serbia, during the building of a house people performed many rituals designed to insure success of the building process and subsequent survival of the house and happiness of the house inhabitants. 

A place for a new house was chosen carefully. In Central Serbia, it was believed that the best place to build the house on was the one which a flock of sheep chose as it's resting place. 

Before the new house was built, four rocks were placed on the ground where the house corners were supposed to stand in the evening. If in the morning bugs were found under the rocks, the house would stand in that place for a long time.

One more ritual performed to determine if the place for the house was chosen correctly involved placing a glass of water or wine in the middle of plot in the evening. If in the morning "something alive" was found drowned in the glass, the place was chosen correctly. 

Finally, the testing of whether a location was good for building a house included the rolling of  bread. In Levač and Temnić, if the rolled bread fell on “its head”, it was considered that the location was advantageous for building a new house...

Every new build required a blood sacrifice. Before the building started, a lamb or a cockerel was slaughtered on the foundation stone. The head of the animal was built into the wall, and the meat was roasted and eaten by the family and the workers.

 

It was believed that someone from the family will soon die after they move into the new house, because every house wants to have its protective spirit, which is the spirit of the first person to die in the house.  

To prevent this from happening, during the move, people made sure that a rooster was the first to cross the doorstep of the new house. This was done so that the rooster would "drive the evils spirits out". 

 

But straight after the rooster entered the house, he caught and was then killed on the doorstep, (the seat of the dead) by the man of the house...

Cockerel's blood was then sprinkled on the outside walls and into all four corners of the house, and his head was buried under the fireplace, the seat of the domestic cult.

What is very interesting here is that there are many indications that sacrificing a cockerel was among serbs a replacement for a human sacrifice...I talked about this in my post "Cock bashing" and "The third death"...

People avoided walking by a building site of a new house, because it was believed that the builders would build person's shadow into the house walls, to create a protective house spirit. The owner of the shadow would then soon die and become the house spirit. 

This is probably a remnant of the old custom to build people alive into the house walls or foundations. Serbian epic poetry is full of stories about this ritual which was used "when fairies would not allow a town, bridge, church..." to be built. I talked about this in my post "Blood and mortar"...

When the foundation was dug, a handful of grains, a few coins and a piece of frankincense were placed in each corner of the house, so that "the people in the house always had enough bread and money". Frankincense protected the house from vampires.

 

Moving into the new house was also full of special rituals. 

It was believed that the best time to move into the new house was on the days of the full moon. 

The fireplace was considered to be the heart of the house. If a family was moving from an old, still existing, house into a new house, a fire from the old fireplace had to be brought into the new fireplace, to ensure the continuation of the family.

 

If it was not possible to bring the fire from the old house, a brand new "live" fire (need fire) had to be kindled "in the old way", by "rubbing wood on wood", using fire drill or fire saw. These kind of fires were believed to have magical properties.

 

The sourdough starter, was by Serbs possibly associated with the (protective) ancestor (spirit). Maybe because the starter was passed from generation to generation...This could be why Serbs believe that when moving from an old house to a new house, the starter in the old house should be destroyed and a new starter should be made for the new house...

After the fire was lit, new bread was made. This new bread was then broken and eaten by the members of the family dipped into salt, a traditional welcome offering. After that all the other things are brought in. 

The last thing the family needed to do to "put roots down" in the new house was to plant a fruit tree next to the house, which had to be done by the man of the house not later than one year after the family moved in.