a wreck in time

yesterday i won a bet!
about a week ago herself dragged me off to our local library. m is an inveterate researcher and she had questions about village history. myself ... i felt that visiting the local library would be a complete waste of time! for one thing, the place is tiny, for another it is only open for a few hours on some days of the week. my imagination conjured up a disinterested, part time librarian...
my demanding new yorker !...
well, who needs such aggravation?
however, herself is a fair challenge to my indolent habits. after some discussion, i reluctantly agreed to accompany her. somewhat sulkily i must admit.

i was wrong! the local library was perfect, very small but positively stacked with delicious books. the librarian assured me that she could order any book my heart desired. herself addressed the question of local history and lo... local librarian has spent two years of her life researching and writing our village history. she has tales and fables, truth and myth and photographs of the past and how it was. local, part time librarian is a font of knowledge and eager to share.

we hear tales of witches, mermaids, curses and ship wrecks... we are royally entertained, the library remains open past closing time as herself and the part time librarian delve into the distant past.



local history and gossip, who could ask for more. apparently there is an ancient shipwreck in the bay and when the tide is out, the masts are visible.

yesterday herself expressed a need to drive down to the water and read (there is a rather noisy job of work being executed at my place of residence and her tender, sensitive, opera singer's hearing was being abused by the constant hammering!). i parked the car and took myself off for a wee walk about and a cigarette. i returned and my lady was not reading but exercising her brain with a sudoko puzzle. i settled down with my book, enjoying the warmth of the sun shining through the car windows. herself ... she dozed off, i may well have closed my eyes for an instant.
time passes.
my lady awakes and expresses a desire to WALK along the beach. such an opportunity should never be ignored, i positively leap from the rav.
and so ... we find ourselves wandering along the shore. myself collecting the multi hued pebbles which decorate the sand and herself collecting shells.
herself...
"do you think that is the wreck ... over there?
me ...
"nah, tides not out, wreck wouldn't be right up on the shore!"
herself...
"wanna bet"
note to reader... herself considers me a bit of a "know it all", she might be right ... possibly.
me...
"sure, you can buy me a twisted if that is the wreck"
heself... (pretty damn sure she is right!)
"make it something worthwhile"
me...
"like what?"
herself...
"a dessert at the garden centre".
whew heavy stuff man! still, my new glasses and my common sense assure me that no way could the bronx babe be right.
me ...
"ok, lets walk"
herself...
"i dunno, maybe not now. it looks like a long way, i kinda need the bathroom."
me...
"heh! ...chicken?"

we walked...
i was right... no wreck!
man! i can taste that banoffee pie already ;-)

i have one

today was brain scan and blood tests results day and good news was on the menu.
i have a brain ... oh yeah! and what's more it is in fine fettle. all my tests came back A for ok, it appears that i am one healthy human, perhaps a little creaky in the joints but otherwise...
practically perfect!

now here i must pay tribute to herself ("at least give me some credit!"), for she it was who delved into the dark world of drugs. researched my medications and found that one particular medication has some rather nasty side effects.
uhuh! cholesterol in my family line runs high and handsome...
familial i think the catch word is.
the result... powerful medication is required. powerful medication indeed! it would appear that in sufficient dosage this particular powerful medication is more than capable of causing... 'cognitive dysfunction'! yikes!
apparently the statins cause 'inevitable damage to the mevalonate tree'.
imagine that, no friggin' wonder i was starting to exhibit symptoms usually reserved for the somewhat brain dead...
stopped taking the statins, revival, return (almost) to normal. i am able to sit without falling asleep, i occasionally remember something of importance. i am almost able to conduct a decent conversation.

at the very least i am now able to understand that my functional failures do not (as yet) signal an untimely descent into the sad, grey world of early onset dementia.

lift a glass mates! we have reason to celebrate!

choice, cheese and eating italian

cheese wise ... south africa offers a fairly limited choice. the uk, another story entirely, a confusion of choice!
but ... uk cheese is not american cheese! the mozzarella, the parmesan, the ricotta available in our supermarkets may be imported from italy ...
why, you might wonder is the woman racketing on about cheese?

herself has arrived, safe and sound on scottish soil. a little late due to a three hour delay stateside whilst the airline searched for a co pilot! i kid you not, herself has a way with her, weird and wonderful situations arise all around her!
my apartment appears to have grown in her absense and she now realizes how fortunate i was to secure this home of mine heh, heh ... just goes to show the difference a little sunshine makes!

back to the cheese question...
so... herself has decided she will impress my friends and family by throwing a dinner party ... no really!
you thought she didn't cook?
well...
she doesn't, not normally, not if she can possibly avoid...
pots, pans, the whole darn kitchen and cooking scenario.
but...
the woman comes from an italian family and she loves to eat and she loves to entertain.
eating out in a proper restaurant in the uk is an expensive business. let's face it, friends and family are not going to be impressed with a take away from the kings arms ... heh!
now when herself put her mind to it, she would make the most delightful dish of chicken parmesan. of course that was before she became a flesh abhoring vegetarian.
however, she still makes a pretty mean eggplant parmesan!
but...
british cheese ... will it do???



which explains how we came to be sitting at my small kitchen table, surrounded by many different brands of mozzarella, ricotta and parmesan. herself had decided to taste test her way through quite a few of great britain's italian type cheeses!
cheese wise... things appear to have improved since her last foray into scottish supermarkets. a satisfactory ricotta was found, the parmesan passed muster and although the mozzarella was not really up to italian/american standards...
even though imported directly from italy! heh, heh...
herself finally found one she felt she would be able to work with.

rock on! darn i love it when herself pretends to be all housewifely!! if pressed, i would have to admit that my lady has made me several cups of coffee in the week she has been here.
unprecedented!

all i have to do now is locate an eggplant (aubergine to the brits and brinjal back home in south africa) and voila! i will be eating italian!

like any other monday

now, where was i...
been a little distracted lately, what with my visitors and all!

my sister patricia (used to call her pat but since she turned sixty she seems to refer to herself as patricia ... more grown up/sophisticated i guess!) and brother-in-law tony have flown south, to the shores of home. unfortunately they appear to have taken patricia's sun angels with them. man, that girl has powerful sunshine magic! we hardly had a drop of rain in the month they spent here. except for the time they spent on the isle of skye, then, it rained here in ballantrae whilst the sun shone on skye. they did get wet once, the pair of them caught a bus into stranraer and were rained on. i was seriously happy about that as i had begun to fear my beloved sister might be a weather witch!

btw, while acting as tour guide, i discovered port patrick! a quaint and pretty seaside village, with sufficient antique and curiosity shops to delight the heart.should you ever find yourself on the west coast of scotland, i heartily recommend port patrick as a port of call.
however...
may i recommend, should hunger pangs gnaw at your belly...
do not seek sustenance at the wee tea room at the top of the hill. they do the most unimaginative baked potato i have ever tasted!
i am sure, (in my search for more affordable eating) i ignored some excellent restaurants!

next monday herself arrives!
well hopefully ...
always presuming, we do not manage to have an interesting enough philosophical disagreement in the interim to inspire a ticket cancellation event. that has been known to happen!

the overwhelming importance of functioning feet..

monday...
jump out of bed... huh... ouch! or rather as we would say back home eina!!
warning...
pain, in the foot, left foot.
sheit!

ah well, probably just a bit stiff, walk it out. nah... don't think so, not today.
i limp through monday, i rest a lot, i limp through tuesday, i rest even more.
wednesday .. shona and i are off to ayr for an eye test for me, a bit of shopping and... an ultrasound of her heart.
so wednesday, i resort to drugs.
do they help... not so as you would notice!
i drive, shona's vehicle has a water hose problem. i hate driving in ayr, the place has a one way system i have yet to figure out. shona navigates, she was born in these parts, she actually lived in ayr for a while. smooth riding, we find central parking ... no problem. great to visit with a native.

shona walks...
i limp after her feeling my age.

the dear girl delivers me to the optician, right on time. a young man puffs air in my eyes and takes a photograph of the back of my eye.
the (blond and rather gorgeous) optician, makes me feel right at home and then takes my glasses away from me...
leaving me feeling like a mole, uncovered and exposed to the light of day. all goes swimmingly, we decide i might perhaps benefit from varifocal lenses... of course we do, damn things are a sight more expensive than good old bifocals but...
i currently have these blind spots...
can't see clearly...
items through shop windows.
some items on some supermarket shelves.
happiness would be, not having to peer in order to see, not having to get a crick in my neck whilst attempting to find the dill gherkins.

we shop...
i don't shop... well, not unless i have to. shona is a serial shopper! maybe it's catching, i mean... the shopping thing. the girl walks and i limp through innumerable weird and wonderful shops, i start to enjoy myself, the drugs start to kick in.
cosy, old fashioned scottish tearoom. coffee and strawberry tarts with cream.

hospital time, ultra sound time. we sit and wait and i try to look cool and unconcerned. we crack jokes about my upcoming brain scan. they call her name, evidently it does not take long to inspect ones heart and arteries, my friend is back sooner than i expected. she will have to wait for the official results but, so far, so good.

we pick up shaun and i drive back to ballantrae, guess the drugs are wearing off as i am now having a hard time working the clutch. eina!

thursday morning...
well that will larn me! my left foot is now painful and swollen and red... yikes. fear strikes my stoic heart. i drag myself off to the medical centre and dr k, my brain consumed with thoughts of crutches and disability badges. damn doctors! how come they are always so calm, miss k takes my foot in hand and appears seriously unimpressed.

dr k
" the small bones of the foot... you might have injured them without knowing, or it could be arthritis, nothing much to be done. keep moving, when you sit, keep the leg raised. take these tablets."

ahah! well... nothing for it i guess but to limp on home and try and pursuade myself that i am not yet quite at death's door.

sawney bean and the missing memory

my eyesight fades,
my hearing wanes,
my memory is,
playing games.
there is a cave,
along our coast,
said to be haunted,
by a ghost.
the ghost of long dead,
sawney bean,
a cannibal,
so it would seem.
now sawney,
and his family,
hid in this cave ,
close by the sea.
they preyed on traders,
riding past,
then ate their flesh,
a grim repast.
the soldiers came,
to search and find,
old father bean,
and all his kind.
but, smart he was,
and hid away,
deep in the caves,
above the bay.
no proof, no bones,
were ever found,
but still the myth,
was told around.
now this is really,
quite a tale,
to tell the tourists,
they grow pale!
so, 'tis my pleasure,
to regale,
my visitors,
with sawney's tale.
i take them to,
a view point high,
i start to talk,
then damn it ... sigh!
the cannibal,
i've lost his name,
it's gone, forgotten,
out of frame.
my story seems,
to lose it's way,
without a name,
there's 'nowt to say.
the names not gone,
it's merely missing,
this happens,
when i'm reminiscing ...
two weeks pass by,
my brain is still,
perhaps i need,
a memory pill.
then off to ireland,
we all go,
we take the ferry,
it's not slow.
we take a coach,
we do a tour,
of beauty spots,
i'll tell you more.
the giant's causeway,
made of rocks,
which look like,
geometric blocks.
our next stop is,
a swaying bridge,
which joins an island,
to a ridge.
for twenty minutes,
we must queue,
to cross the bridge,
and see the view.
eventually,
my turn comes round,
to cross the bridge,
high off the ground.
i must admit,
i was quite scared,
i paused,
the guy behind me glared.
i took a breath,
and holding tight,
i took a step,
and faced my plight.
when i was half way...
in the middle...
my mind came clear,
and solved the riddle.
it's sawney bean,
that is the name,
the cannibal,
of ayrshire fame.
i think i did not,
speak it out,
i'm lucky,
that i did not shout!
the joy of memory,
revived,
two weeks it took,
till it arrived.
so... what's the moral,
of my story,
enjoy your brain,
in all it's glory.
cause soon enough ,
you might well find,
missing places,
in your mind.
no matter how you strive,
to think,
your memory's...
gone on the blink!


All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

across the sea

i love five o'clock in the morning. the sun just starting to rise behind the high hill opposite my house. the a77 as still as it is ever possible for the a77 to be! just me and the cows and the sheep. i'm enjoying my coffee and first smoke of the day, they are munching away... as always. i wonder what it is like to eat all day and night and never grow fat? mind you, as delicious as the ayrshire grass may be ... would i really want to spend my life chewing on it? nah ... i think not! better to stick with cadbury's creme eggs (which, btw are now being produced as a chocolate bar called twisted, in order that those of us with a creme egg dependency will not have to suffer needlessly in the six months of the year when easter eggs are unavailable!) and other such delightful delicacies of our modern day diet.

my niece alison finally arrived in girvan at eight last night, only three hours late! evidently ... a train trip from hell. my niece is a pukka english person as my sister lola, married an englishman and spent the rest of her life in her majesty's realm.

of course WE are now Scottish with a capital S! however, unlike the average scot we feel no deep need to despise everything south of the border. i hear rumblings and i am quite sure that sometime in the not too distant future, i will be living in the republic of scotland, free of the chains which presently bind us to the sassehachs!of course i have equal parts scots/irish/english blood, plus a little french Huguenot and who the hell knows what else. but ... when in rome...

talking about irish blood...
tomorrow - sunday, we are off to stranraer to catch the ferry to belfast! this will be the first time my feet have touched irish soil and i am pretty excited. we are taking a coach tour and will visit the giant's causeway.
the carrick-a-rede rope bridge

if anyone fancies to offer me 'big bucks' to cross the bridge... well... i might just take them up on it. otherwise, hmmm, probably not as i am terrified of high, swaying bridges with gaps between the planks!

the weather forecast for tomorrow CLAIMS that the weather will be ok. here's hoping they have it right for once ...