56
R. Linda:
I had an assignment to go to New Hampshire to speak with the Democratic Chair to ask about Kerry's chances over Bush in the upcoming race for president in the Granite State. Since the interview was in late afternoon, I was invited to take dinner at a friend's in southern New Hampshire. Me friend being Jordie of Portadown fame and he was a political analyst, so I relished the idea of discussing our craft over a glass of wine after dinner.
Off I took me. I did me interview and headed to me friend's home in Hollis, I arrived at 6 p.m. sharp, dinner was half after the hour, so that was grand timing on me part, because it gave me time to settle in with me friend.
Now R. Linda, I have to preface this meeting with something me friend told me. He had been felled with health problems at his young age and was home recuperating. He had just had himself a baby girl, and with his health, it was hard to sleep nights. He did not begrudge the wee lass her waking the house hold in the wee hours (once at midnight, then again at 3 a.m. and if they were not lucky, she'd rouse them at 6 a.m.), as babies do at only weeks old.
Now this adjustment of poor health, a new babe in the household, a not so competent housekeeper, and a young wife and another small child, was taking its toll. The man's sainted sister saw all this and came to stay because she loves her brother and his wife, and with the new baby, and her brother's health, there is a lot of work she can take on. The sister is a solid family sort and the couple thought this a wonderful idea. They readily told her to come ahead. Only sister was not alone. With her come two dogs. Mind you, me friend already has two dogs of his own. They are out in a dog run and never come into the house. But sister's dogs are spoilt and so is sissy. She is there to help her dear brother through his convalesces, and so the dogs must be with her, because her stay is not a short one.
Me friend warned me about them. He told me a story of how he struggled one early morning to get up his own stairs balancing a cup of coffee in a not so brightly lit stairwell, while hearing the dogs rousing in his sister's bedroom at the top of the stairs. He could do two things, continue up or hurry down. You see, he had seen the dogs morning ritual before and knew what could happen. Now because he has balance problems, making a full turn with a cup of coffee to rush down, would have knocked him off his feet, so the only way to have it was to continue up, hoping and praying he'd make it before the door opened and the hounds were out of the chute so to speak.
He told me he would rather face his foes head on and be taken out that way, then losing his balance by turning round and falling the other way. Either way, he was certain to be accosted by said dogs.
A side note here: He refers to the two dogs (one a huge Bloodhound,the other a Blue Tick Hound), as the Bumpus hounds after the flick A CHRISTMAS STORY. If you have ever seen that flick you will know what he is referring to. And from herein, I too will refer to said dogs as -- the Bumpus hounds.
To make a long story short, he lucked out this time and made it to the top of the stairs and a few inches beyond when his sainted sissy opened the door and our roared the hounds, down the stairs in leaps and bounds, mindless of anyone who could be on their way up. The sister is one who, if she hasn't had a cuppa in the morning, is in a foul mood. Of course she had not had her cuppa and passing her brother out the door and after the hounds, she glances at his cup, takes it for herself, sees his raised brows at this, him -- as if to say, first you try to kill me with your dogs, and to add insult to injury you take me cup of Joe! And off down the stairs after the hounds she goes, him standing cupless, after having risked life and limb and for what?
Well R. Linda, here I be warned of these two hounds and totally forgetting about them UNTIL I pull up, and there I am not looking, me bum sticking out the car door while I reach for me briefcase when suddenly I be pushed into the driving seat head first, by two slobbering Bumpus hounds. You don't know the thrill of being goosed by doggy snoots shoving their way up your arse, no you don't. Oh the slobber! It was all over me freshly cleaned suit, the only suit I had back from the cleaners. The only suit I had for another interview the next day.
I was kicking them away and they were taking this action as some great game and shoving me back into the driving seat each time I regained an upright position. I was finally saved from this "game" by the housekeeper who came out swatting at the hounds with a broom. That was even better! They were leaping in the air trying to catch the bristles of the broom in their teeth. She was shouting at me, "Mr. O'Sullyvan ruin while ye haf the choonce!" Translation: Mr. O'Sullivan, run while you have the chance!
I picked up me briefcase and did as told. I got in the door in time to watch the housekeeper trying to make her way back towards the door, hounds leaping in the air after the broom bristles, barking up a holy storm and her cursing them in her Scottish brogue.
Luckily, the hounds were not allowed in the house as we ate dinner. They were instead standing on hind legs looking in the window. There were these lovely French doors that opened out onto an enclosed patio. Well, the hounds could smell the food and so they were sniffing the air, and staring at us through the windows of the doors. Every bite I took was watched as I forked it and it travelled to me mouth, and each time a moan was heard from the other side of the doors. When I started to chew, a sad whimpering erupted, you might say, "Aw," to this, but believe me R. Linda, watching them drool over the glass wasn't a pretty sight. The other not so pretty thing was the housekeeper kept coming in with another dish and with each dish a great howling came piercing through the doors and one could not help but look at the salivating hounds dancing around in anticipation of human food, something their owner spoiled them with. Me host was not happy.
After dinner, me friend asked his sainted sissy to please remove the hounds from the patio area because he and I would like to sit outside and enjoy a drink together. She did this whisking away the hounds and we took ourselves outside to enjoy the twilight, as me friend told me to mind the slobber dripping off the doors. There were faerie lights on the arbour over the patio, hanging baskets of colourful flowers, a few wind chimes that tinkled softly in the evening breeze, a three tier fountain that made it's own lovely water sounds, and the charming sound of birds calling each other to shelter for the night.
In this idyllic setting we sat on a rather expensive set of lawn chairs, our legs outstretched, me sipping me fine glass of Merlot from a large bowled Waterford wine goblet, him his spring water. And in this beautiful setting we are having a conversation and mellowing out. So there we were as I said, the housekeeper silently behind us wiping the slobber off the doors. I put me glass down next to me chair on a low table at me elbow, closed me eyes for a second, breathed in the fragrance of the hanging baskets, enjoying the quiet surroundings and me friend's excellent company. I was driven rudely from me reverie with the sound of sloshing and slurping. Me reflexes had me legs come flying off the reclining part of me chair, to either side of it as I looked to me right to see the two Bumpus hounds drinking me wine and taking off with the expensive crystal wine goblet -- stem firmly clamped between the teeth of the larger of the two. Off I trotted with me stumbling over the lawn chair in pursuit.
A merry chase they took me through gardens, down to the pool area and beyond. I couldn't keep up. They lost me somewhere between the pool house and the woods. And by this time it was freaking dark! And another thing, they led me into a patch of the most carnivorous mosquitos in existence. I was jumping up and down, and swatting at me arms and basically flapping around trying to fend the buggers off. When suddenly, the Bumpus hounds came dashing out of the woods, san wine goblet, and joined in me jumping around like it was a great old game. There I was jumping around, hounds leaping in the air at me, and suddenly splash! Me and the hounds were in the swimming pool, in the deep end doggy paddling because there was no room to swim with them around me.
Me friend is suddenly there on the other side of the pool trying not to laugh. The housekeeper had got a long poll with a small net for skimming the pool, and she was prodding me in the ribs with it, barking in a thick Scottish brogue, "Mr. O grob on an I'll pool ye in." Translations: Mr. O grab on and I'll pull you in.
I was thinking, damn it woman you are sticking me something fierce and I'm going to drown if you don't stop it!
Me friend could see she wasn't aiming well, and took the poll away from her so I wouldn't die, and he eases it over the water to me. I go to grab it, but one of the hounds decides this was a water sport and attached his teeth to the net pulling the poll out of Jordie's hands and away across to the other side.
Seeing I have enough room to swim, I start to stroke me way to the shallow end to where the stairs are. Now mind you, I be not in me suit jacket, nor tie, but me good dress shirt, suit trousers, socks, and leather shoes. Not the attire for swimming, but what the heck, me suit jacket is covered in dog slobber, so now the entire suit be ruined. The only think I have to show for it is me silk tie.
Well, me shirt has came loose of me trousers and there I was paddling and swimming and going absolutely nowhere. I couldn't understand why I was not making headway to the shallow end, and I realised I seem to be swimming backward. Jordie was yelling at the dog who I could not see because the thing was behind me with it's jaws clamped to me shirt tail and swimming in the opposite direction. There I be in the deep end with big dog pulling me the wrong way, the other one in the shallow end ripping the net to shreds on the end of the sinking poll.
Finally, the sainted sister came to me rescue. I said to meself, get this beastie from me shirt, but no, she calls the dog to swim to the shallow end pulling me along on me back now, by me shirt tail. Me shirt is up around me neck, in shreds, but at least I was floating to the shallow end of the pool. I may have been asphyxiated by the time I got there, but well I was finally being pulled to the right end.
I tell ya Linda, it was quite an experience. I have lost me entire suit, am covered in bug bites and still reeling from the images that come like a cold chill to me watered brain in the dead of night. I will have nightmares about this for decades I can tell ya that much.
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I had an assignment to go to New Hampshire to speak with the Democratic Chair to ask about Kerry's chances over Bush in the upcoming race for president in the Granite State. Since the interview was in late afternoon, I was invited to take dinner at a friend's in southern New Hampshire. Me friend being Jordie of Portadown fame and he was a political analyst, so I relished the idea of discussing our craft over a glass of wine after dinner.
Off I took me. I did me interview and headed to me friend's home in Hollis, I arrived at 6 p.m. sharp, dinner was half after the hour, so that was grand timing on me part, because it gave me time to settle in with me friend.
Now R. Linda, I have to preface this meeting with something me friend told me. He had been felled with health problems at his young age and was home recuperating. He had just had himself a baby girl, and with his health, it was hard to sleep nights. He did not begrudge the wee lass her waking the house hold in the wee hours (once at midnight, then again at 3 a.m. and if they were not lucky, she'd rouse them at 6 a.m.), as babies do at only weeks old.
Now this adjustment of poor health, a new babe in the household, a not so competent housekeeper, and a young wife and another small child, was taking its toll. The man's sainted sister saw all this and came to stay because she loves her brother and his wife, and with the new baby, and her brother's health, there is a lot of work she can take on. The sister is a solid family sort and the couple thought this a wonderful idea. They readily told her to come ahead. Only sister was not alone. With her come two dogs. Mind you, me friend already has two dogs of his own. They are out in a dog run and never come into the house. But sister's dogs are spoilt and so is sissy. She is there to help her dear brother through his convalesces, and so the dogs must be with her, because her stay is not a short one.
Me friend warned me about them. He told me a story of how he struggled one early morning to get up his own stairs balancing a cup of coffee in a not so brightly lit stairwell, while hearing the dogs rousing in his sister's bedroom at the top of the stairs. He could do two things, continue up or hurry down. You see, he had seen the dogs morning ritual before and knew what could happen. Now because he has balance problems, making a full turn with a cup of coffee to rush down, would have knocked him off his feet, so the only way to have it was to continue up, hoping and praying he'd make it before the door opened and the hounds were out of the chute so to speak.
He told me he would rather face his foes head on and be taken out that way, then losing his balance by turning round and falling the other way. Either way, he was certain to be accosted by said dogs.
A side note here: He refers to the two dogs (one a huge Bloodhound,the other a Blue Tick Hound), as the Bumpus hounds after the flick A CHRISTMAS STORY. If you have ever seen that flick you will know what he is referring to. And from herein, I too will refer to said dogs as -- the Bumpus hounds.
To make a long story short, he lucked out this time and made it to the top of the stairs and a few inches beyond when his sainted sissy opened the door and our roared the hounds, down the stairs in leaps and bounds, mindless of anyone who could be on their way up. The sister is one who, if she hasn't had a cuppa in the morning, is in a foul mood. Of course she had not had her cuppa and passing her brother out the door and after the hounds, she glances at his cup, takes it for herself, sees his raised brows at this, him -- as if to say, first you try to kill me with your dogs, and to add insult to injury you take me cup of Joe! And off down the stairs after the hounds she goes, him standing cupless, after having risked life and limb and for what?
Well R. Linda, here I be warned of these two hounds and totally forgetting about them UNTIL I pull up, and there I am not looking, me bum sticking out the car door while I reach for me briefcase when suddenly I be pushed into the driving seat head first, by two slobbering Bumpus hounds. You don't know the thrill of being goosed by doggy snoots shoving their way up your arse, no you don't. Oh the slobber! It was all over me freshly cleaned suit, the only suit I had back from the cleaners. The only suit I had for another interview the next day.
I was kicking them away and they were taking this action as some great game and shoving me back into the driving seat each time I regained an upright position. I was finally saved from this "game" by the housekeeper who came out swatting at the hounds with a broom. That was even better! They were leaping in the air trying to catch the bristles of the broom in their teeth. She was shouting at me, "Mr. O'Sullyvan ruin while ye haf the choonce!" Translation: Mr. O'Sullivan, run while you have the chance!
I picked up me briefcase and did as told. I got in the door in time to watch the housekeeper trying to make her way back towards the door, hounds leaping in the air after the broom bristles, barking up a holy storm and her cursing them in her Scottish brogue.
Luckily, the hounds were not allowed in the house as we ate dinner. They were instead standing on hind legs looking in the window. There were these lovely French doors that opened out onto an enclosed patio. Well, the hounds could smell the food and so they were sniffing the air, and staring at us through the windows of the doors. Every bite I took was watched as I forked it and it travelled to me mouth, and each time a moan was heard from the other side of the doors. When I started to chew, a sad whimpering erupted, you might say, "Aw," to this, but believe me R. Linda, watching them drool over the glass wasn't a pretty sight. The other not so pretty thing was the housekeeper kept coming in with another dish and with each dish a great howling came piercing through the doors and one could not help but look at the salivating hounds dancing around in anticipation of human food, something their owner spoiled them with. Me host was not happy.
After dinner, me friend asked his sainted sissy to please remove the hounds from the patio area because he and I would like to sit outside and enjoy a drink together. She did this whisking away the hounds and we took ourselves outside to enjoy the twilight, as me friend told me to mind the slobber dripping off the doors. There were faerie lights on the arbour over the patio, hanging baskets of colourful flowers, a few wind chimes that tinkled softly in the evening breeze, a three tier fountain that made it's own lovely water sounds, and the charming sound of birds calling each other to shelter for the night.
In this idyllic setting we sat on a rather expensive set of lawn chairs, our legs outstretched, me sipping me fine glass of Merlot from a large bowled Waterford wine goblet, him his spring water. And in this beautiful setting we are having a conversation and mellowing out. So there we were as I said, the housekeeper silently behind us wiping the slobber off the doors. I put me glass down next to me chair on a low table at me elbow, closed me eyes for a second, breathed in the fragrance of the hanging baskets, enjoying the quiet surroundings and me friend's excellent company. I was driven rudely from me reverie with the sound of sloshing and slurping. Me reflexes had me legs come flying off the reclining part of me chair, to either side of it as I looked to me right to see the two Bumpus hounds drinking me wine and taking off with the expensive crystal wine goblet -- stem firmly clamped between the teeth of the larger of the two. Off I trotted with me stumbling over the lawn chair in pursuit.
A merry chase they took me through gardens, down to the pool area and beyond. I couldn't keep up. They lost me somewhere between the pool house and the woods. And by this time it was freaking dark! And another thing, they led me into a patch of the most carnivorous mosquitos in existence. I was jumping up and down, and swatting at me arms and basically flapping around trying to fend the buggers off. When suddenly, the Bumpus hounds came dashing out of the woods, san wine goblet, and joined in me jumping around like it was a great old game. There I was jumping around, hounds leaping in the air at me, and suddenly splash! Me and the hounds were in the swimming pool, in the deep end doggy paddling because there was no room to swim with them around me.
Me friend is suddenly there on the other side of the pool trying not to laugh. The housekeeper had got a long poll with a small net for skimming the pool, and she was prodding me in the ribs with it, barking in a thick Scottish brogue, "Mr. O grob on an I'll pool ye in." Translations: Mr. O grab on and I'll pull you in.
I was thinking, damn it woman you are sticking me something fierce and I'm going to drown if you don't stop it!
Me friend could see she wasn't aiming well, and took the poll away from her so I wouldn't die, and he eases it over the water to me. I go to grab it, but one of the hounds decides this was a water sport and attached his teeth to the net pulling the poll out of Jordie's hands and away across to the other side.
Seeing I have enough room to swim, I start to stroke me way to the shallow end to where the stairs are. Now mind you, I be not in me suit jacket, nor tie, but me good dress shirt, suit trousers, socks, and leather shoes. Not the attire for swimming, but what the heck, me suit jacket is covered in dog slobber, so now the entire suit be ruined. The only think I have to show for it is me silk tie.
Well, me shirt has came loose of me trousers and there I was paddling and swimming and going absolutely nowhere. I couldn't understand why I was not making headway to the shallow end, and I realised I seem to be swimming backward. Jordie was yelling at the dog who I could not see because the thing was behind me with it's jaws clamped to me shirt tail and swimming in the opposite direction. There I be in the deep end with big dog pulling me the wrong way, the other one in the shallow end ripping the net to shreds on the end of the sinking poll.
Finally, the sainted sister came to me rescue. I said to meself, get this beastie from me shirt, but no, she calls the dog to swim to the shallow end pulling me along on me back now, by me shirt tail. Me shirt is up around me neck, in shreds, but at least I was floating to the shallow end of the pool. I may have been asphyxiated by the time I got there, but well I was finally being pulled to the right end.
I tell ya Linda, it was quite an experience. I have lost me entire suit, am covered in bug bites and still reeling from the images that come like a cold chill to me watered brain in the dead of night. I will have nightmares about this for decades I can tell ya that much.
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
