"Destruction to the Red-haired Hag!"

I'm off on two weeks' leave today, and I fervently hope to be nowhere near a computer for anything more than a few rounds of Caesar III during that time.
So I'm leaving you with Happy Lughnasadh thoughts.
Lughnasadh is celebrated by some of the Wiccans on the 1st or 2nd of February in this hemisphere, but O/C ex-pagans like Warren and myself will be burning the corn on the astronomically accurate date of 3rd Feb this year.
Lugh dedicated this festival to his foster-mother, Tailtiu, the last queen of the Fir Bolg, who died from exhaustion after clearing a great forest so that the land could be cultivated. When the men of Ireland gathered at her death-bed, she told them to hold funeral games in her honor. As long as they were held, she prophesied Ireland would not be without song. Tailtiu’s name is from Old Celtic Talantiu, "The Great One of the Earth," suggesting she may originally have been a personification of the land itself, like so many Irish goddesses. In fact, Lughnasadh has an older name, Brón Trogain, which refers to the painful labor of childbirth. For at this time of year, the earth gives birth to her first fruits so that her children might live.
This was also an occasion for handfasting, or trial marriages. Young men and women lined up on either side of a wooden gate in a high wall, in which a hole was carved, large enough for a hand. One by one, girl and boy would grasp a hand in the hole, without being able to see who was on the other side. They were now married, and could live together for year and day to see if it worked out. If not, the couple returned to next year’s gathering and officially separated by standing back to back and walking away from each other.
In later times, the festival of Lughnasadh was christianized as Lammas, from the Anglo-Saxon, hlaf-mas, "Loaf-Mass," but in rural areas, it was often remembered as "Bilberry Sunday," for this was the day to climb the nearest "Lughnasadh Hill" and gather the earth’s freely-given gifts of the little black berries, which they might wear as special garlands or gather in baskets to take home for jam.
I'll also be making my famous, artery-clogging Colcannon, even though I have no known Irish antecedants.

Colcannon 6 servings: 1 medium cabbage, quartered and core removed 2 lb potatoes, scrubbed and sliced with skins left on 2 medium leeks, thoroughly washed and sliced 1 cup milk 1/2 teaspoons each mace, salt, pepper 2 garlic cloves 8 tablespoons unsalted butter Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and boil the cabbage until tender, about 12-15 minutes. Drain off the water and chop the cabbage. Set aside. Bring another pot of water to a boil and boil the potatoes until tender. Drain off the water and set aside. Put the leeks in a saucepan, cover with the milk, bring close to boiling and then turn down to a simmer until tender. Set aside. Add the mace, salt and pepper, and garlic to the pot with the potatoes and mash well with a hand masher. Now add the leeks and their milk and mix in with the potatoes, taking care not to break down the leeks too much. Add a little more milk if necessary to make it smooth. Now mash in the cabbage and lastly the butter. The texture that you want to achieve is smooth-buttery-potato with interesting pieces of leek and cabbage well distributed in it. Transfer the whole mixture to an ovenproof dish, make a pattern on the surface and place under the broiler to brown. After the first mouthful, Irish families might call out, "Destruction to the Red-haired Hag!" The red-haired hag is a personification of hunger.