The Witch & The Seanachaidhean
Confessions From An Intoxicated Genealogist
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My name is Rowan Imogene Dunnigan, and I come from a good family. What I have come to learn over time, however, is that not everyone in my family is inherently good. In my neighborhood, I am often called "That Neighbor." I am the one that the rest of the neighbors only smile and wave at nervously if they realize I've seen them first. Otherwise, they just scurry as quickly as mice back into their homes closing the door behind them. I am the wand-welding, tree-hugging, cat-loving, "medicinal" garden-growing, wine-drinking, "wise" woman at the end of the block. You know the one. My house is the o...
My name is Rowan Imogene Dunnigan, and I come from a good family. What I have come to learn over time, however, is that not everyone in my family is inherently good. In my neighborhood, I am often called "That Neighbor." I am the one that the rest of the neighbors only smile and wave at nervously if they realize I've seen them first. Otherwise, they just scurry as quickly as mice back into their homes closing the door behind them. I am the wand-welding, tree-hugging, cat-loving, "medicinal" garden-growing, wine-drinking, "wise" woman at the end of the block. You know the one. My house is the one that the kids are all afraid to go up to on Halloween. It is also why I buy extra-large bags of Halloween candy so that I can eat the many leftovers snack-size Snicker bars myself. I am also our family historian. I am the one you go to if you want to know why Grandma and Grandpa got divorced, what Great-Grandma put in her homemade hooch, or what was truly behind Great-Grandpa Lucian's mysterious disappearance. Often this is something that has left me the target of the family "Drama Dragons." We all have Drama Dragons in our families. Within these pages is the story that my Drama Dragons don't want me to tell. For centuries, the women in my family, have created a clatter. The tales of these utterly captivating if not completely bewitching women have been passed down from generation to generation. Their stories are tales of love, survival, magic, and the occasional family murder. I, myself, am one accused of murder. But I am getting ahead of myself, dear Reader. Let me take you back to the beginning where our story truly begins. Come with me to when the Seanachaidhean told their tales....
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