Each season in ALLTAR, readers may submit a question to An Cailleach Bhéarra.

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This is not a therapeutic advice column. There are no solutions, affirmations, or reassurance. She was managing perfectly well before being asked.

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An Cailleach answers briefly – often in a single line. She speaks through bog and weather, through stone and weight, through what sinks, what sticks, and what refuses to move. She does not explain herself and has little patience for unnecessary detail.

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Questions may concern relationships, exhaustion, money, shame, loneliness, desire, fear, broken fences, determined bulls, feral goats with strong opinions about cabbage, strawberries that refuse to grow in December despite your optimism, or the ordinary trouble of being human. Not all questions will be answered. This is deliberate.

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If you write in, keep it plain.
Ornate questions rot.
No pleading.
Background information, gifts, or compliments will not improve your chances. Póitín, however, has been known to improve the joints.

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Some answers will make you laugh.
Some will sting.
Some will make sense later.
Some will not help at all.

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That is the nature of bog language.

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On rare occasions, an answer may arrive by post, bearing signs of having been handled by her. This should not be taken as encouragement.

By submitting a question, you agree that, if selected, it may be published in ALLTAR, named only by a first name. All submissions are treated with discretion.

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