lampoil

Life and times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 11th

2008-09-15T12:37:24-04:00

     ""Lets go then..."" said Herminie, very matter of fact. Nestor smiled a little and was all for it.
Presently through all the passages of the castle they arrived at the grand staircase. Nestor looked and gazed at it in the gloomy daylight that the still grey weather allowed. He was still 'amarveled at all that a castle was, historic and rich and cold, and musty yet clean and huge. he wondered if a lord or knight had ever ridden his horse up those steps.

""Come on"" urged Herminie. she was in front of the door to the room now. She was trying to find the right key. Nestor tired to reach one of the torches from its' sconce on the wall where it flared its' light. He was not tall enough. He spied a foot stool of sorts in the corner where the wall met the stair case on the side of the hall where they were and where the room had been built. He promptly retrieved it. "' This must be her just for this' he said mostly to himself. He could now just reach above the scone to grab the torch. Herminie tried to wrangle the correct key. The ring of iron was heavy and the keys also...."must jus' let me try a'bit there, said Nessy. Here ye take hold o' this and Ay'll just see what ay can make of it."" Nestor took the keys and Herminie seemed to struggle equally with the club like torch. "weakly he thought to himself... does row much ay''l guess"" he kept the thought to himself. He peered at the key hole and marked its size and shape. He then began tossing the keys around the ring only trying one or two. The second key went in but did not unlock the door. The third key was less worn and similar, he tried that one. A"Clink & click" sounded distinctly. "Oh you have done t Nestor." squealed Herminie... shhhhsh a bit there will ye? Nestor did not know why girls or lady girls squealed so much. His hand reached for the torch, he noticed now that Herminie was half a head taller than he... he squatted and lay the keys on the floor. They'll not be making a sound this way....

Slowly and with great squeaking protest the door opened outward.   The pair entered the room. It was small by comparison to the room Nestor had slept in last night. It had a lower ceiling and a small plain bed more of a fancy cot really. There were things of never before seen items on the walls. a knotted leather string a dry candle or two a smaller dry torch, a basin, dried herbals that looked dusty and old. in one corner there was the oddest stool type little chair. Herminie lighted the candles and put them in holderd on a small night table. there was a basket of old looking linens on the floor. They were all folded and had been ironed and were also covered with dust.the room smelled like it had been shut up a long time. The candles gave off a lovely aroma. ""Smells nice them tapers said Nestor. Its' lavender said Herminie. Its' supposed to calm the babies.... calms me said Nestor astutely"". Herminie giggled. Then you must be a baby.... she teased Nestor. He ignored her all but for one sideways glance. In that glance he caught something else. There in the bed-cot on the pillow was a bound volume of some thing. Here Herminie whats' this 'd'ye'spose?
The girl tentatively brushed a thin layer of dust off the covering... it was tied with a leather thong. Hold the light closer Nestor, he took two steps into where the girl was bending her head over to read the writing. IT says: Born, Lord Orville Menzies, Canlisle Gentlemen of the Castle,
north tower, of Lady Bertine Mistress of Canlisle, this Day of our Lord 1539. She has gave up the ghost in her wiffley duty this day.
""ohhhh"" whispered Herminie, ""this is not the North Tower, but... Orville is one of the old Uncles he has a portrait in the picture hall.
She turned the page, and read another entry. Born. Geoffery, another son of the Menzies, with out undue course, to Mistress Littleton second wiffe, this Day of our Lord. 1541 in North tower. Nestor this is the birthing records from nearly one hundred years here but we are not in the North Tower, we are west here. Must have been built later this room as its' hey what that there? Nestor pointed to a cloak rack. there its' a wee door I think."" And so it was. There nearly flush with the wall was a short door. the door was perhaps five feet tall at most Nestor estimated. it had no key hole but a bolt of sorts had been fashioned towards the bottom. ""French design"" he said aloud in an imperative tone. They heard a sound then, some one was picking up the keys... It was Marlee. She motioned for them to come... they came out and Nestor put his hand out making the sign he thought was right for the keys. Marlee gave a barely preceptiable nod and handed the keys over. Nestor locked the door, Marlee was already on the stool replacing the torch. She then pointed to the door. and held up on finger and blew across it. ""Oh, Ock Herminie we have left the candles burning, exclaimed Nestor." Marlee opened the door then expertly snuffed the candles and relocked the door, she silently shooed the others away. Nestor liked her then. Saw the sharpness of her mind.

Marlee scampered away around the other side of the staircase. Her active mins was awhirl with thoughts. The first thing was to restore the keys, then get herself back to her work. She was fast and would not be behind for long. Lady Herminie and her mother needed things, she would be busy today. The rain seemed likely to stop and perhaps the boy would see the town, perhaps Kurt would take her town again. but never mind, she had her work to do. But the marvel of all she had heard the heavy iron sing its' song against the stones of the floor today. Her silent world had been broken if only for a moment. And the boy had known she had seen that. He too had known.

Herminie clasped the record book of the birthings to her busk. She hoped that no one knew, that Nestor could not see. She wanted to know all that was in here, perhaps her own mothers and her own birth were recorded here as well. Who knows who else she would find. She wondered who had written these events and placed them in that room? any book in the Manse by rrights out to be in the library or at least in the pursers. Maybe something in here mattered and maybe not but how fun to know.... someday she may be mistress here and she would know the name of ever soul that been born here. She would seek the North tower in days to come. She would not stop until she knew all there was to know about the Castle. She would ask her tutor to give teh history of the entire Manse and village. She loved this place and her grandfather and even the great grandfather. She would visit him and know things, pour his tea and sweetly cajole the history of this place from him. Women were not much in this world and she would be all she could!

Nestor followed Herminie and when she pointed him to the balconey she made her excuses and went on her way. Nestor took advantage of the perch in the wall under the rampart. He gazed the horizon, There was a short break in the weather. It seemed to oddly calm... he could see that more dark weather was approching, he could see the swelled river and it crept up the banks. IT was a torrent of anngry water. He surmised the Bay was also turbulent. He set his jaw, He smiled and remembered his own home. Extra pastys' would often grace the tble in his cottage in such weather. He had not seen it this severe in ever so long though. He knew the day of his birth had been a day like this. Da' loved to repeat the story often....did he have teh wander lust? Was it fate or because of something else that he was on a journey now? No he decided as he stood in the returning wind. It was decisions. He had wanted to learn more. He Da' and his M'am had wanted it to and decided if he showed promise he would have the opportunity. He turned and went towards the inner hall again. Another decision.... he would see what other parts of the castle looked like and see about a noon meal. Sneaking around was a hungry business!

During the break in the storm many hand made its way down to the river, boats and moorings were checked as besta s possible. Words about the amount of water taken in the river were exchanged. The Menzies was aprised of conditions and decisions were made over the few things that could affected. The inner court yard was sea of mud and the hired soliders sloughed back and forth as did the few servants required to cross the mire. The black smith alone had a few measured inches of hard packed dry earth to the approch to his shop area. More than one hundred years the fire and kiln like oven of heat had heated cooled and baked the ground beneath his anvil and gret bellows. Unlike the village smithy he was advanteged to have a true roof over his head rather than an oiled cloth. The Market place had been slow and closed early after opining late. Milk was late coming. The cololer tempuratures keeping the former days stock fresh enough. Horses, cattle, sheep and goats, pigs and dogs and people, were muddy and chilled. This was North on the Island of the West as some poetic hearts refered to England. Though Ireland and its rock and sand were not ignored it was the poets license to include all of the georgphy in its' meaning.   The rain was of a heavy pelting type that caused doors, windows and overhangs to be closed an shuttered. It was more than a gail in strength, longer than a shard spring fechet in its' duration. "Twas nearly a hurricane." the salt in the water could be tasted if it landed on the lips. The shore lines were simply mounted over with water. And the river swelled in dangerous fast eddies of water rushing to the sea and from the sea. Just before dark on that day did the winds slacken some and the rains' promise to let up.

Nestor knew that his folks had seen such weather and wonder the extent of it all. He knew their little harbour was very snug and the stout little cottages built with tide sureges in mind. For the next two days as things dried out and repiars made, He and Herminie lingered over a few books, some games and even a musical hour. Herminie then though it a good time to join the great-grandfather, the Old Menzies for his afternoon toddy. Nestor was looking forward to his possible next cup of coffee. He felt it would surely chase the chill of the old stoney castle out of his bones. So Herminie and he were led by Kurt to the chamber of the Old Menzies. Steaming drinks with sweet breads and preserves, were to be forthcoming.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll

2008-09-12T02:10:40-04:00

     Nestor awakened to the dull thud of rain pelting the window. It was dark outside with only the barest hint of dawn trying to peak through the weather. Feeling clammy and cool despite the large cover on him, Nessy decided to leap from the bed and dress. He wondered for a moment where his own clothes were as he retrieved his borrowed things from where Kurt left them the night before. He became aware of a sound as he put his shoes on... Oh , some one was tending the fire. He hopped up and trotted around the bed to greet Kurt.

OH! It was NOT Kurt! It was a GIRL! A GIRL person in his room..... and him just dressing too!   He blushed and gasped and stomped his foot, lacking much social skill with servants or girls. When he stomped the lass turned around. Her bonnet was much to big and folded back to reveal a small pinched face with a single streak of soot on it. She saw the look on his face and biting her lip, she very hastily half curtsied and backed out of the room quickly. ""Oh bothe'r said Nessy aloud, whats' the matter with girls anyway?"" He could hear her very quick foot steps on the stone floor fading away. He had scared her probably . He took himself to the top of the stairs and Kurt was there. Kurt waited as Nestor descended the stair case and eyed the railing. " Good mor'row young Master, breakfast is this way."" "Kurt there was ah... er... well.. ah... a girl in m' room when AY dressed.
Din't seem right.".... Kurt was a but a few years older than Nestor and he found he didn't quite know what to say. "A worker in the cast'l no doubt". Was all he finally managed. ay' do b'leive so.... and her bonnet was to big too." Ay, ah dunnot think she saw me nor look'd me way while ay' donned me things." Nestor ventured slowly. "" Oh "" said Kurt. That would be Marlee, she's a relation and deaf too. Must of been tending the fire most like." Aye, said Nestor she was at that.... Ay' do b'leive ay' skert her a terrible fright. " She's easily unsettled if she's not aware of someone about'. Aye she fairly run down the hallway. Nestor tone belied his guilty feeling. To breakfast then Young Master" said Kurt heartily. Nestor followed obediently, hoping breakfast was plentiful and that he might find a nice pasty to offer Marlee should he see her again. He hated that he frightened her now.... His Ma'm did not hold with men who were not kind to women or boys who were not kind to girls, no matter how odd they ever seemed.

Once in the dinning hall Nestor's jaw fairly bobbed up and down as he took in the grandure of it all. Nothing was new for sure but it was grand in scale and told the nature of the fortune that must have built the place. Carlisle Castle was famous and had seen many battles over the centuries. It had Scottish and English and Cumbria blood on its' walls. It also had drapes and tapestries and all sorts of trappings. Things seemed a bit neglected, but not ragged by any means. There at the other end of the room the younger Lord Menzies had just entered.

""Ahh Master Plimsoll you are up! I trust you slept well and are ready for a bite? "' Oh yes sir, good day sir, did you ah, ah, sleep well also?"" He had no idea if it was rude or right to ask such a gentleman and Castelier about his sleep. the sleep of old men is not fit conversation for even a rainy day my lad.... surely you have a better theme in mind?"" The Menzies was cheerful and it was not a rebuke. Nestor pondered a moment as Kurt directed him to a seat four chairs down from the head of the table.   Well its' a dreary wet good morrow is it not lad? We'll have company for this days meat and bread. To wet to ride or take in the morning markets. My sister shall join us I think and her daughter and perhaps for Luncheon the Old Menzies himself.
Nestor managed a smile. In truth the whole mention of it all upset him somewhat. Meeting grand ladies and Earls was beyond a boy of Cornwall. He swallowed hard twice. The Menzie saw the streak of insecurity on Nessys' face and smiled and nodded. "We here at Carlisle are quite down to earth m'boy. Don't fret a'tal. Ahh here comes the first of our meal....lovely stuff, ever had n'oronge' lad?"" He had given it the French accent. He plunked one in front of Nessy. you picked up the round as a ball fruit. He sniffed it and was instantly watering in his mouth. As he was about to bite into it, Kurt cam to his service. " Pardon Young Master, you must remove the outer skin allow me please. " so Kurt pealed the orange and Nestor had what he believed to the best part of Heaven in his mouth an stomach. He almost rolled under the table in his pleasure. ""mummie d'ye see that lad there? He's nigh unto a faint, she now addressed Nestor. Have ye' never had the orange fruit before boy?"" Nestor was upright and choking on his last bit of orange meats. Kurt was puonding him on the bakc and the Menzies was holding back a guffaw with great restraint.
When he was recovered only a littel the Menzie introduced his neice. My boy, this is Lady Herminie. Lady Herminie this is Master Nestor Horaatio PLimsoll, and that woman behind lady Herminie is her mother Lady Corylene of Carlisle. Nestor stood and made as courtly a bow as he could. His face was read and his eyes a bit watery. Kurt poured him a coffee. Nestor reached for the creme and the honey. It helped him regain some composure.

Nestor as mannerly as he knew how.. .His mother had taught him well and though he was not like a night or a gentleman he knew some ettiquet for the table anyway. Herminie chatted faster than Nestor could answer. She asked a great many questions about Nestor that made him blush or stammer. Finally she asked if he would like to go for a tour of all the interior of the wings of the castle. He did like that and so one more drink of the heavy coffee and with the Lord's permission the two young ones ran off on their way.

Lady Corylene asked her father. "Where did you say you knew the boy from M'lord? " Oh I knew his mother when she attended the dances as young girl. Surely you remember Miss Esmeralda, Megheegan." Lady Corylene furrowed her brow. Do I know her father?" "I proposed to her when she was twenty and one. You were surely forteen at that time. Do you not remember the lively girl? "
"Oh THAT one... I was seventeen father, and she at least twenty two. And rather young for you to I may add, she broke your heart for nearly a month. The Menzies chuckeled and lost himself in memory for a few moments. Esmeralda was a lively gel' A gel' who could dance and light a room up with her presence." That young man is her son and I have taken him in at her request as he journies to Scotland and her own relatives. Father asked Lady Corylene, she was an heiress of sorts was she not? Of 'sorts' yes. Quite indeed as is the lad. Was it Irish holdings ? But they live in Cornwall and he is little more than a peasent. He is a great deal more than a peasent my dear. Though it is not likely to ever do him any good. Is it.... illegitimate sir? Now daughter but few know the story and the truth, Menzies answered his daughter. I scarce know it all myself now. The very reason she refused me.... she did not does not in fact know who she iis..... and would not bring a scandel she said." I tried to convince her we were well enough off to buy silence if it cam to that. No I believe she knows only what others told her. Lads a bit small ain't he? The question ended the conversation.

Nesotr and Herminie were off on the rituals all children engage in when about the same age. Many questions and answers were bandied back forth. The as yet unkown or at least undocumented effects of the new world drink ''coffee'' ahd the twosome in very lively and animated talk and action. The rain did little to dampen the spirits of the children. Nestor was guided here and there and finally asked if they might see the room under the great staircase. Herminies face frowned in abject disgust. Why? she blurted out. Its' an old birthing room. Not much to see. ""But ""said Nestor its' locked and that makes it intrigue. ""Oh well then perhaps. If I can filtch the keys for us" said Herminie.

"We must find Marlee, I can tell her tofetch the keys for us... she'll do it for us. She cannot hear you how....? How...?Nestor fumbled to find words. Oh she understands signs and signals some.... said Herminie....how did you know she was 'deef' Nestor? Herminies question made Nestor blush again.

"Well.... uh hum, er, ahh, well she was in me room of t'early mornin' makin' the fire up. ' And well there she was... and later Kurt told me"...Nestor hoped she would not ask more questins she did have so many questions. "Oh" was all Herminie said in a flat tone.

Finally they found the serving girl Marlee. Hermimie stomped her foot hard and Marlee turned to see who was there. She blanched a little in her peaked small face when she saw Nestor. Herminie used two fingers to imitate the action of a key in a lock... Marlee nodded and went to retrieve the keys. "Please show me that sign, said Nestor are there more? He loved to learn new things. I won't said Herminie her head cocked to one side. Until you say how old you are boy. Nestor wrinkled his nose... You're like t'other girls after all... said Nestor, his digust barely hidden. Well if I am then tell me how old you are Cornwall boy. Nestor rolled his eyes. Ay have twelve summers on me, and ye? How old are ye?
You are not supposed to ask a laaaady, her age pouted Herminie. Well t'hat leave us safe said Nestor you're a girl!   He was proud of his witty remark. " I am a laaaady,emphasized the young girl, " I could be called to court any day as I am thirteen now""...she clapped her hand over her mouth... Then Herminie started to giggle overmuch. Nestor laughed a little too.

Marlee returned with a huge ring of Iron keys. When she held out her hand to give them to Lady Herminie she dropped them. The sound they made on the stone floor was thunderous and musical. Her face transformed to utter intrigue. She bent and picked up the keys and let them drop again to the floor. Nestor understood. "She hears that lady Herminie, she has heard tha' great clanging of them keys on the floor!" Herminie failed to comprehend. "Well for all that she just threw them on the floor again." This time Nessy took up the keys. He rattled them vigourously. Marlee gave a quick curtsy and almost ran the other way. "Oh deary Ay've gone and frightent' her again. She'll be thinkin' Ay'm a rogue. Oh why would you care what a serving girl thinks a'tall said Herminie. Now lets go unlock that silly little room. Nestor didn't understand girls, Not serving girls, not lady girls.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 9th

2008-08-18T09:10:17-04:00

         The clouds gathered and the winds got up before the two reached the outer rampart wall of the castle. Nestor of course had seen ruins and some very impressive stuructures on his Journey. Now he was to enter a castle. Him! Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll! The gated doors were huge and Nestor wondered how many Knights it would take to open the door. No sooner had he thought it than he spoke it aloud. The Menzies' gave a short hardy laugh, and grabbed Nestor about the shoulder giving him a slight squeeze and the slightest turn at the same time. "Oh laddie you are as hopeful as any boy ever was.... We need'nt not go in by the great laborious gate. We are not mounted and nothing larger than ourselves approaches. He pointed then, with his polished walking stick towards a door that appeared almost invisible. Had you not already known it was there, the eye might have missed it altogether. Nestor did not know if he ought to feel relieved, dissappointed, or perhaps even foolish. Why would anyone on a common ordinary day use the great gate? He decided he was relieved. The Master of the house was a very eldery gentleman at that, of course he wouldn't want to wait and be patient while the great lifts and gears of the entryway were laboring open. Even the younger Lord Menzies was not so young.... He too might expire before the lift was complete. NO dignity in that at all! The' Menzies' rapped on the small trap of the door and a face immediatly appeared. Well, half a face. A mouth and chin asked. 'Who appraoches Castle Carlisle? 'Your Master" replied the younger Lord Menzies. A nose and two very beady eyes appeared. "Y'es m'lord opening now" the muffled voice said even as the door swung open. The elder gentleman stepped in first and as he did a streak of lighting skatted across the sky and almost simultaneously the thunder roared so that the very ground vibrated and Nestor was pelted with a mix of rain and hail even before he got himself over the threshold. Instantly two soldiers approched them and held their magnificent shields over the two of them that they walkes sheltered of the down pour. Nestor was again awed. The soldiers kept pace as He and his host hurried across the well worn stones along the walls under cat walks, and eventually across the inner court yard. They came to an archway and were met by a man and a women who had lanterns. The soldiers left off with out a word and returned to wherever they had appeared from. The underpass widened and a young boy appeared, though he seemed older than Nestor. He immediatly put his hands on Nestors' bag. Nestor was having none of it and returned the tugging of the bag to his direction. The other lad tugged harder and Nestor also tugged all the harder. Aware of the tussel the Menzies' turned and with a kindly smile said to Nestor. ""Nigh' Lad you are a guest in my home and these good people are used to looking after all my guests. Give me your trust as your mother once did and all will be well. Let yon paige take yourrr' things and get a room firrre started for you. That is his function for it he recieves his coppers everrry second fortnightm and he feels the need to earrrn it honestly. Now let us go to warming fire and good meal. You've got yourself wetted and there is not place like an old stoney structure to give a man or a lad his death of cold."" Nester pursed his lips and gave the paige an engaging stare. Then he let go of his satchel and followed on with his host and the couple still leading them.

     By the light of the lanterns Nestor could see there were some words carved into the wall as they walked the length of the knave. A double door opened at the curve in the knave and they walked only a few steps more and were inside the greatest room Nestor had ever seen Surely three houses could be stacked one upon another and fit in here. He crained his head back ward to pier at the ceilings. They were a dull dunne sort of color but were trimmed all around in shields, banners, and all manner of trappings. "Now lad, said the Menzies. You shall know your first comfort of my home. The woman who had lead them, stepped over to the huge fireplace. A screen some four feet high and resting some two or three feet from the face of the fire was laden with three blankets. She fetched one over and put it on the mans shoulders as at the same time the serving man placed a warmed blanket over Nestors wet back and shoulders. He gave Nestor the slightest head nod and went his way. The woman also departed with a slight curtsy.

     The Older gentlman settled himself in a chair and gestured to Nestor to also select a chair. Then he spoke again. " 'tis still a grand sight to a young lads eyes I see. With so much going near the borders and in London we don't make it too festive these days. But... some of the glory hangs on yet eh lad? Nestor just blinked and nodded. He snuggled automatically into the remaining warmth of the shawled blanket. He swung his feet as they dangled from his chair. He looked around freely. There was a huge chandelier, half its' tapers were lit. The huge fire also provided some light and there were as yet unlite torches on the walls. Over further from the fireplace a candlestick with about twelve tapers burning, sat on a round shiney table.

   ""Please ye' l'ordship Nestor spoke tentatively. How is it ye knew of my journey, and how t'find me? Ahhhh my boy, your dear mother wrote to me many weeks ago, and informed me you would be traveling in the area. Asked if I would keep a look out for you. I've had men out every day for a week now. I was nearly growing nervous lad. It would be a gruesome thing to lose sight of Esmeralda McGeeghons boy child. But finally a lad with a satchel and a Cornwall suit of clothes was reported on the meadows approaching the firth. I took it upon myself to walk and meet you. OHhh! Said Nestor in a voice of ponderous thought. How d'ye know then of my mother then sir... then he quickly added "if I may inquire of his l'ordship?"" The kindly smile spread across the 'Menzies 'face again.

""Let us be made more comfortable young Plimsoll before we digress to the subject of reminisce. The sentence was uttered like a sing song childs' poem. The 'Menzies' chuckled at himself. Not quite a ryhme was it boy?
Nestor shook his head and in a serious voice replied. No sir ay' do b'elieve 'twas what my school master called an 'assonance'...... ** ahem** the gentleman coughed an half chortled. Yea, laddie prehaps a bit of accent upon the first syllable for an old inept 'would be poet of no note.' Nessy puzzled a bit and decided to say only aye, m'l'ord". the Menzies stiffled a chortle. His heart suddenly warmed to this lad so much of his mothers ilk.

     The paige re-appeared and he carried some folded clothing. He stood before Nestor and presented the clothing. Nestor was at a loss...'may I help you sir? He asked the paige. The paige spoke breifly. "Would mm'lords young guest care to inspect the dry cothing before wearing them? Nestor looked at the clothes and the paige and Sir Menzies. His host again graciously interveined. "I beleive Naster Plimsoll will do well by them... so to it and guide him to his rooms. I am imformed we dine in less than an hour. You must follow him to your chambers and when you are quite suitible lad we will dine. The paige lead the way out of the main hall. Nestor trailed on his heels not wanting to become lost in the large expanse of the Castle.

Presently they arrived at the foot of an enourmouse stairway. In the lantern light a shiney door knob was visible showing just exactly under the tenth step of the stair case. Whats' that fer there that door handle sir if Ay' mayt ask you.... " Master Plimsoll my name is Kurt and you 'mustent' call me sir. Aye'm a servant in the house hold, it 'tissn't right you call me sir."" His voice had been a little plantive. That room down there is where a midwife would stay...come a little early before a lady was to have her birthing time. And stay just here so as to be handy.... Nestor was quite impressed and puzzled too. A midwife had a room all to herself in a castle.? Why ? Ay'm not so sure, no baies been born here for ever so long........ well, least ways not a Lady's. Kurt slipped into that boyish commaradre' that tends to crop up when two boys share a secret. Then remembering his place and resuming some bit of protocal he answered Nessy. But ay' can find out if you likes Master Plimsoll. ""Like"" Said Nestor. "" yur pardon sir?? asked Kurt for he did not understand. Its' jus' ''like"" with out an 's' not ""likes'' with and 's' . Ye jus say, 'if you like, not ""likes"". Oh yes Master Plimsoll replied Kurt. Kurt can we see in there, whats' it like in there? Whats a midwife room like? Did ( he winced ) the babies get birthed in there? No sir replied Kurt. it's not where a Ladyship would be at all. He had resumed his air of servitude and knowledge. We should move on sir he urged Nestor up the stairs. Nestor had an attrction for secret of that little room.... he certainly did not know why but locked doors did bear intrest sometimes. At the top of the stairs the paige showed Nestor into the first room on the left. It was dark and several candles needed to be lit. There was a window that reveled the storm outside was active but not the gale it had started out to be only an hour earlier. Nestor went to the window... "ohhh he said in dissapointment I thought the firth was to be seen from here. Not from here but higher up in the ramparts yu'd be able to see it Master Plimsoll. Kurt offered. He too came to stand by the window and with his hands first on Nestors shoulders he fussed about and alarmed the boy. Wha' t'ever are ye doing? Nestor was almost horrified. Ay'm to help you out'f these things and into those things.""... Kurt indicated the folded clothing on the chair where he had set them as they first arrived in the room. "Oh! Ay'll do mey own undressing and you just help me with anything about those I might need help with. retorted Nestor! ( for a lad of twelve can be very particular about himself and his own ways... ) He indicated the folded clothes. They don't a'tall look like any thing 'A Cornwaller' would wear. Kurt eyed the younger boy.... no Master Plimsoll they don't... the lightest of light sarcasim did not escape Nestors ear.

As he pulled off layer after layer of his travel clothing... Nestor glimpsed around the room. It was stately but not ornate in the way it might have been. Though to Nestor it was the finest things he had ever seen. He wondered that his mother, had ever been content in the cottage on the mount when she had been places like this. Oh but he did'nt really know anything yet. Best stick with the facts and then be contented with them too. He was eager to learn of his mothers youth. She seldom said much about it except that it was 'just in the past.'

Nestor put on the clean fine linnen shirt, it was large but didn't fall off, and the button breeches were tightish. Then there was an odd vest of sorts and an even more odd jacket. It had a rope of silk for to tie it with, and wide quilted collars.., Kurt tried to put a small startchy kind of collor that stuck out on Nestor. No, no no, that is beastly the boy laughed for it was a comedy to him, I cannot wear it... and what sort of jacket is this? Nestor inquired. Ay'm thinkin' it is called a chamber coat Master Plimsoll, casual but suitable for informal dining. Your shoes please Kurt asked? the slippers proved to be miles to big. Nestor thought they looked like two gret beetles and was gald he could not wear them. the cuffs on the shirt he wore were hanign past his hands and he felt silly. but he was warm now and the fire was begining to roar a bit. Kurt had buit it quickly as Nestor had removed the wet things. Nestor noted he was only wet on the backs of his clothes whilst the fronts had been dry. Odd how the rain had hit only his back. KUrt gathered Nessy's clothes and having lain the across his arm he picked up a candle and led Nestor to the waiting supper.

In a room filled with books from floor to ceiling a small table had been set with cold venison and hot soup, hot potatoes and hot malts with butter and honey. "tis strong meade my boy drink and warm yourself. thougth 'tis not winter the damp makes it chill. Nestor noted a third plate set out. Who shall join us sir? The Menzies in haled and smiled a knowing smile. MY Father the Lord of the Lands here about. We set for him should he come, he is aged and does not often want company as he eats. Though he is well enough in body should he choose.
Now young Master Plimsoll let us enjoy a repast.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 8th

2008-08-13T03:50:15-04:00

     So Nessy once again saw the sightes one would see from the top of the coach and along the road. He was spanked to be sure. He had been quite the hinge-neck on this journey. Looking at all and any angles at the sights that were new to him and of which he suppoesed he might never see again. There were castle ruins galore and dark waterways. there were fields in planting and some that lay fallow. The nature of the language of the locals changed and he was sure if he had time he might learn a little of each and every new dialect. But nothing was afforded him save what he could glean with his eyes. He finally, on this last leg of coach rides had found an almost comfortable means of sitting. Like a small schoolboy he sat crosslegged with his bum upon the satchel. Then in half and hour or so he would cross his legs underhim for a while and rest his knobby knees upon the rough cloth bag. All in all he was bounced and jounced, but learnt his balance and saved himself better than before.

At last the coach made its' final comfort stop. Nestor knew he must walk from here and find a ford or a boatman to carry him across the firth. He wondered if the firth was a small as it looked upon the map he had seen at his school upon the isle. It was part of the ocean he knew so prehaps it had some commanding size to it. He would find out when he arrived this he knew. He took but half and hour to eat one of teh lovely, and healthy pies Mrs. Towery had made for him. He'd called them 'pastys' all his life and folks here about who make true English called them 'pies'. He always thought a pie was a sweet pasty. but oh maybe 'tis an' may 'tisn't he muttered aloud to himself. He picked up his satchel foisted a last ladel of drink from the common bucket, and suddenly his eyes froze in horror. There in the bucket was... oh! Many things were common in the common bucket but some things were not to be tolerated. Scrabby fingernails were in the bottom of the lovely clear water. Nessy spat his water out and spat and spat and spat. He was quite disgusted. Somethings might be ignored in a waterbucket such as a fly or a bee. They could just be dippered out and done away with. His m'am would have been repulsed, his Da' too. Nessy sighed, tossed the water and its' horrid contents out. He looked 'bout and saw the little brook and a well, that the was the source of such nice water. He elected to refill the bucket from the stream. Nasty fingernails in the bucket could be nasty toenails in the well. The whole thought made a toss-up face appear on his tight features. Who would do such?   He filled the bucket after he had swirled and swirled and swirled it with clean water. Then he replaced the nice freshly filled bucket on its' hook. His sense of the clean and the orderly was satisfied. Why even the lowliest person back home would never do such a thing. It was positivly uncalled for, lowly scoudrel of some sort smuggler or worse maybe... not a seaman for sure they took greater pains over good fresh water,... Nestor decided to think of something else. He picked up his bag took his bearings and started off away, toward the Northwest towards the great firth that seperated Scotland from England. Well Cumbria actually, he reminded himself. He had a fair right amount of excitement to see the Firth and the shores of Scotia! He walked with industry and let his curiosity entertain him.

After an hours' walk he found himself thirsty. After all the problem of the bucket he had never taken his drink of water. Nothing doing but finding a drink. He smelt a little tobacco smoke in the air and thought a cottage must be up the path he was on, prehaps a short piece. Surely some one would have a dram or two of water for a thirsty lad. He trotted a bit up a sort of sand and clay incline. About half way up a sight for sure hit his eyes. There in the front of him was a huge dwelling. It must be a ""mansion"" he thought, For it did not resemble a castle like the one on St.Michels Mont. As he walked towards it, more and more of it showed when he had topped the little incline he was struck dumb. Utterly speechless.
"Why" he said aloud 'der might be fifty or even a hunnert people as could live in such a place." A voice behind him spoke, "Ninty one serving souls, seven family members, and as many guests at any one time " Nestor jumped around startled to his heart and all eyes to view the body of the voice he had just heard. There behind him stood a tall elderly gentleman in a well cut suite. ""She's a sight for the eyes of boy from the South now ain't she laddie?""   Ay' it 'tis that sir, indeed it 'tis. With awe in his voice Nestor spoke a question. ""How sir be ye sure ay', come from the Southlands? South and west as  I make it laddie.... a Cornwall lad maybe as fer doun' as the Mont itself." Nestor loved at once the brough of this fine gentlemans speech, his delicate manners and his kindly attitude. ""Tha'd be mos' correct sir,"" Nestor had relplied. Neu' laddie where might yourself be headed so late in the day?" There's nought but an hours good light left. Though tis spring the sea'll bring us a zepher out of the west this evening in 'bout an hours' time. He continued and asked with a sort of lighted lool in his eye. ""Has a stranger and a boy got a place t'lay his head of a night? No sir ay had aimed t'cross the Firth in time to reach my kinfolk this day. Ambitous lad I see."" Was the curioulsy droll answer. The elderly man smiled and took a pipe from his pocket. A boy won't make a crossing tonight here 'bouts." His voice was solemn. The firths just turnin' from low to high tide and the winds'll keep her choppy and no man in his sanity will row o'er this evenin' and if a man was to row o'er this evenin' no lad in his sanity would ride it. Nestor conseired well what the man was saying. He understood all to well what even a small set of waves against the tide might cause. ""Not two summers ago sir, ay was cought dead sure in a strange wave and'live'd to tell of the strange way of it. The man nodded knowingly. Aye' it can happen to any body that puts to the water in a boat or a ship". The sea and all her little nests' can ne'r be taken for granted. ''Nestor remembered then his need of manners and station. He bowed low and said. "Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll sir,,,, student; at yer service." Lord Ethane Menzies' at yours' young sir the gentleman inclined his head. 'Tis my aged father who is in the Manner House yon way that you can see. Some call it a castle, but its' been long andlong ago that it made defenses for or against the crown."" Nestor, at a loss for what to do next put down his catchel smoothed his second best jacket and replied " your servant sir, and bowed deeply." The 'Menzies just chuckled and returned his bow slightly. ""Come lad we must make the door 'er the weather breaks. Come, you're service to me is to be my guest this evening I know your mother laddie. Once upon a time I knew her well.

Nestor just stared with large eyes first at Sir Menzies' then at the manse more like a castle, but much more modern it seemed than most. He picked up his bag and in his most well mannered fashion fell into step beside the gent.

The Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 7th

2008-07-31T17:44:01-04:00

Nestor was quite well on the eve of the third day. Mrs Towrey had take good care of him and pronounced him fot to travel. Fresh pastys' were baked and packed and clothes were washed.

Nestor was overwhelmed and grateful too. There had been many hours of time when Tom's folks were sure Nestor was a runaway and not nearly twelve years old. Finally he showed his ticket for the coach and the letter of intoduction his mother had given him for his uncles when he arrived over the boarder. All had been satisfied and Toms' father Ewon, has said any one with as many words in his head as young Nestor has had, several years of book learning and was sure to be more than ten summers at least.

So early the next morning Tom and Nestor were filling the goat cart stray and hay. Nesotor was not sure he wanted to ride with the onery goat that tried to tree him when when he was in such distress at the creek, but he could not be choosey.

He was sure his bum was healed enough to stand for one more day of spanking. He liked the idea of walking more and more but as his hostess had pointed out he was small and prone to walk longer, and it might worry his mother to not hear from him or his relatives in a timely manner. Toms father had said a stout heart was not match for robbers if yer frame was small. Nestor had not a single reasonable argue for that statement. so the goat cart and the coach it was. Besides Mrs. Towry had said, ailments such as his can come over a body at any time, it would weaken him and he might not find good help in time. " What wit this trouble wit' the King an' all his men" yes soldiers of the Crown or the opposition might thinkit fun to rob a lad so far from home. Altogether, it was wise then to keep to the original plan for getting to the border lands and to distant family.

Tom was expert at getting the most out of the goats and the trip was slow but comfortable. Nestor and Tom talked all the way to the coach stop. " So what'll yer do when you git to yer uncles clan Nestor? Tom could not imagine life other than as he knew his own. Ay'll study a lot of books, Tom, and learn to fight manly, and gentlemanly, and get to know all sorts of things. "And wha'd'yer think the good o' all them books be Nestor? Tom asked intently and innocently." Nestor thought a moment before answering his new friend. ... "Well s'pose Ay' was to write you a letter Tom? How would you get the words and meanin's? See learnin' such come from books and teachers." Now Tom took a moment to think before he answered. ""Me Dad kin read a bit, knows all his letters and makse out lots o'words. He'll read me my letter, if 'twas to get a letter. Dunno' who's ter write the likes of myself tho'. Why Tom cried Nestor! Ay's could write ye, jes' as plain an easy as anything! Ay'll write ye when I get to my uncles house an' send it! Tom looked surpised and then pleased. Will yer do it Nes? Will yers fer sure? Oh yes and certain sure Tom.Nestor replied. Look here, Nestor drew a tuppence out of his pocket. This here'll be enough fer ye to pick it up and send me one back. If you learn a few letters from yer own da' ye'll be able to post it an' send one back. Ay'll leave a bit o' space on the paper so's ye can answer and not spend on a sheet of parchment. " The excitement in the boys voices would have been a pleasure to hear had any one been near enough to enjoy it. I'll get ye started on learnin' a couple of yer letters Tom. Nesotr offered then yer da' wilt know ye mean to learn from him. " For another half and hour or so the boys worked on letters for Tom. "A" said Nestor "A" is the first letter and it looks a bit like a triangle. or mabbe' an arrow tip... See, your da' will show ye. Tom repeated this knowledge a few times. "B" Tom 'B' is for bird it looks abit like a birds h'ead and round belly if you seen him sideways and not dead on. "A little like a birds body mumbled TOm confusion in his voice. Look h'ere Nestor pointed to a black bird on a tree branch. D'ye see it? He then had Tom stop the cart and drew a large "B" in the road dirt. I see it sure..... I see it exclaimed Tom now do "A" Nes, do the A like a triangle. Nestor drew a captial "A". I see it Nestor I do, I see me letters A and B plain as plain... and me a great lad of ten lerneringa ta' read. Always thougt it was a bother an' a fool waste of time... teach me a word Nes!" Tom's enthusiam had been kindled and Nestor was hard pressed to find a word Tom could handle right off in a few minutes. Finally he setteled on the word "a'." Tom sid Nestor with a will "A" is a letter and a word. It be the smallest of all words.... wha'dyer mean? tom asked as if he felt tricked. Well Nestor pointed think like this. A cart is bein' pulled by "A Goat". S' a word we uses most every day and jus' don't think on it to much..... What??? said Tom? Obviously so confused. A letter and a word? Yes! Said Nestor. 'A' is a letter in the word cart "C- A- R- T" and it is "A' cart bein' pulled by 'A''goat! D'ye see it? D'ye understand. he continued...A cart one cart, the one we are in... and A goat one goat the one pullin' us along! OHHHHHH said TOm iowth suden understaning. A cart and a goat a'goin' along ""A"" road.! That's it Tom, that's it, ye've got it just right. both boys just beamed like sunrise with smiles. They had something between them now that would always be a bond. They had acheived learning together. Nestor had a funny heady sort of feeling. Did it come from helping Tom.? Yes it did indeed. Why...when Tom learned to read it would be less easy for others to trick him or tell him false tales. He may never leave his home but he would not be cheated out of it by false taxes or ignorance. A marvelous piece of satisfaction fell all through him for the knowing of that fact. Soon the cart came to the end of the tree line and the ruts in the road grew deeper. The coach house came in sight. Tom kept repeating "A cart, 'A' goat 'A ' looks like a triangle or a' arrow for birds, and birds looks like a 'B'..... he was not following it as Nestor had told him but he was commiting it to memory. He was armed now with an excited passion to learn as much as his father could teach him....

The boys stopped the cart in the sparse grass a few yards from the coach house. Nestor who had held the tuppence in his hand since he had pulled it from his pocket, now he would give it to Tom."This'll be more''n'enough to post a letter... good bye Tom thank ye m'am agin' for her kindness...." he flipped the coin high in the air and yelled "catch" to Tom. Tom flipped off his hat and caught the coin. He beamed and waved good by as Nestor had taken this time to dash off towards the inn. Tom bit the coin for good measure.... Nestor turned and waved... Tom waved back hugely. He was to have a letter! He had a new freind and he knew two letters and a word. He hupped on the reighns and the cart carefully turned into the road again. any one nearby would have heard the boy saying aloud...."A' is for 'a' cart an 'a' goat. 'A' is a word and 'a' letter. 'A' looks like 'a' triangle or 'a' arrow.... 'a' arrow shoots birds. Birds is like........ "B"........

[IMG]http://i34.tinypic.com/2drdnk6.jpg[/IMG]

Life And Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 6th

2008-07-13T03:41:55-04:00

Nessy found after five days of riding inside or atop the coach he was quite spanked out. He had even talked the driver into letting him hang on the sides a while like some of the grown men did. A man was allowed to get a foot hold on the sill of the windows and hold with all his might to the trim around the rail at the top of the coach. Just above the window where the windows would have a curtain inside for shade and some dust covering, there were also a set of 'rods'. These were for outside curtains that helped keep out a bit more cold for the wintry days. Nessy found himself greatful for the provision of very cold day travel. He was not tall enough to hang in the usual way but he could certainly do it right on these rods Nessy found he could "hang' for quite a while. Grown men would have to crouch to hang onto the rods. They were at a disadvantge on that one way. He was doing just fine with them. They were his backside's deliverence. He didn't know what the poor lady passangers did.... the driver said "they sat their haunches on Gods cushions." He hadn't been able to make sense of that... did it mean white petty coats? Well most Cornwall ladies had red flannel underthings. Least wise in the winter they did. His own ma'm had several of white and unbleached muslim and red wool and flannel too. Ahhh well it didn't matter to much. It was his bottom that he had to think about. To solve his problem he elected to walk several miles, to the next station and resume riding from there. He knew he was bruised in multi colors. He simply had, had to do something! Even sitting on his satchel had been a problem of its' own. For a few hours on a ride he had done well enough but the friction and bumping on the stachel had threathened to blister him. "Now that was just too much!"

Nessy had determined to walk a leg of the journey and resume riding when he was to get aboard a boat or ferry, at the border. He parents might not approve but to save his his poor little hide measures must be taken!!

The coach came to its' 'nooning' stop'. Here every one would eat and nap at the station for about an hour and a half. Then the ride would resume. Here Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll hatched his hide saving plan. He would buy a pasty and eat half then slip away quietly and begin to walk across the countryside. The road might be rather dangerous. Twice already the coach drivers had outrun some pitiful Highwaymen, so best a little squirt like him don't donate to some one elses' pockets.

Nestor bought his 'pasty' as his people called them. It was no Cornwall delight, something other, but it would do for now. Nessy casually went and sat beneath a scrubby tree. He ate about half his pie and shoved the rest into his small satchel. He thought if he removed his cap he might not look so alien in this more northy country. He waited about half an hour and just edged his way closer to and across the roadway. Soon he was over a single old fence and on his merry way. His tum groweled and gurgled in a most ominous way....and he hoped it was not a disagreement with his pie. In about an hour he discovered it was a disagreement with something. He would never know if it was pie or not.

Nessy came to several streams but was loathe to try a drink. He was miserable. He stomeach cramped every so often and he releived himself too often. He was sure he might die right off, if this kept up. And, if he couldn't have a hero's death at sea, he wanted to at least, die quickly. He walked each time his innards settled a bit. The walking felt miracules, between bouts of what ever had a hold of him. He felt better when he finally relieved himself too. His thirst grew and he knew sooner or later he had to swallow some water. He feared it would sour his stomach the worse. He head was light but did not ache. He was feeling sick but not to awfully weak. He walked a little further and finally lay across a flat rock to sip a drink of the cool water. He kept himself strewn across the rock and dozed a bit. When he woke he sipped a bit more water. He was feeling his stomach beginning to protest when he heard a bell. At least he thought it was a bell. Then he heard it again. He stood a bit and wobbled several more steps before the urge to relive himself overcame him again. He looked about and dashed (he thought he was dashing) again behind the gorse bush. He had not grabbed his satchel. He whirled around to look for it. There on the falt rock that jutted to the stream was a boy and two goats. The boy was lookin' in his bag. "here now, that'b e maye belongin's" blurted out Nestor.
"Oh so it's yours is it?" asked a younger boys voice. Me goats was nosin' in there. You ought nota' bought ' no pie at the station. Mary Smithsons' a right bad at cookin' em' Me mum says she's heavy to the grease and says t'aint' always fresh." Ay guess nawt' replied Nessy, and stumbled up to his things. You from the south then?"The younger boys voice was full of energy and curiosity. Nowt sayin' ouwt-'whright", replied Nestor. No matter mate, its' sure 'nuff in your words when you talk out." Nestor was not in a mood to be social but he would ask for directions if he could. Aye't 'might be a'that. He tried to smile. he managed more of pale lear. Where's 'tha' nearest ford to the border of here?" He hoped he sounded confident. Instead he sounded like a water cask, being sloshed. His stomach rumbled, and gurgled aloud, and he felt the early twinges of his trouble returning. Goa,n you sound like a fish floppin' on the floor, said the younger lad. My names Tom Towry, he stuck out his filthy hand to shake. Nestor reached for it and said his nick name, Nessy' "... then said "'s'cuse me Tom," and bolted back for the gorse bushes.

Tom and his goats escorted "Nessy" to his thatch roofed home, Tom's mother dosed him with a warm tea, guaranteed to dispell Mary Smithison's pie attack and fixed him a pallet to lie upon. With no fever and the remainig pie portion as evidence, she knew the illness would soon pass. Yes she told Nestor "All will soon pass" Soon Nessy slept, he went outside only once more before finding blessed sleep. The goat was given the pie and never did Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll ever ask as to the fate of the pie, not for the rest of his life.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll, pg 5

2008-06-29T04:57:17-04:00

Life and times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll pg 5
Jun 24, 2008 | 6:02PM -

Morning came and at the late hour of 9 a.m the coach was due in the mainland town.

Nessy had all his things packed. They were meager but in good stead. His next to best clothes he would wear for the journey. His guernsey knit was rolled tight and packed, one spare shirt and a pair of special new knitted stockings. His shoes had been re-soled at the cobblers shop, and Nessy felt like a man of the world.

He was to have 'shop boughten' "pasty pies" for his meals, he hoped they tasted as good as they smelled.

Essie was dry eyed and bright to see her wee lad go out to the world. Lestor Plimsoll, was stoic and heart broken. It was not so easy to let his one and only son his only child go take up strange ways with strange folks. That is to say not Cornwall folk.

He patted his boy heartily on the back and tried to look wise and loving. By and by Tom Trevinin came up shyly and hit Nessy on the shoulder and then hugged him. Nessy as always socked him back on the arm. The lad gave Nessy a small trinket he had shaped from a stone upon the beach. A slim round stone with a small hole drilled in it exactly in the center. "Nessy he said 'twill remind ya' of our stones. Th' might not 'a' got any up'et 't'where ye be goin'ta'. An iffen the does, t'wont' be any like tha'Crick Stone of our'n' here". Tom then slipped away. Nessy fingered the amulet and the string though it and put it in a pocket.

The coach was said to be approaching some several minutes late which was exactly on time as far as the locals were concerned. Esmeralda suddenly grabbed her boy and near smothered him in an un-expected mother bear hug. Nestor like wise clung fiercely, to his Da'. Gently Lestor Plimsoll, put his son off of him. "Neewh laddie giff mayne hand shake worty o' a grewn man." Nestor shook his fathers' hand with a strong grip. His roughened hands telling the tale of his days of fishing with his father. The bitty small lad squared up his shoulders and looked at his parents.
"Now my boy you will mind yer manners and yer elders the while you are gone?" Yes muther.... I'll be respectable and respected myself." I'll make you Very prowt of me Da'" Nessy inclined his head as the grown men did when making a true statement.

The old box coach came... Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll clambered up,his faire had paid for a seat on the inside and so with a resolve to be obedient he willingly sat inside. It would be anew experience...he liked new experiences. In only a moment the driver remounted to his seat and the coach was off. Nessy waved and saw his mothers apron flapping at him like a family standard. His fathers' cap just being returned to his head. With his satchel of pies in his lap Nestor turned to see the sites of the town he knew so well. In only three to four minutes the edge of the town was going from his sight. He realized the town was not a large as he thought it was. At the next stop the coach stopped and not one passenger boarded. Nessy scrambled to the top of the coach where the cheaper seats were crowded. He offered his fare, his ticket paper to a young girl. she accepted it and was soon in place inside the coach. Nessy wanted to see every mile possible of his journey. He would not allow this chance to see so much of his native Cornwall, wasted. As the coach resumed its' path toward yet another town, it turned a bit Northerly. New sites were on the way.
finally" thought Nestor.... he smiled a huge boyish grin and bit deeply into the first of his store bought pies.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll pg 4

2008-06-24T20:51:38-04:00

Let us resume the life of young Nessy, Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll.

Along with the castle where the Laird was wont to live, upon the Mount ( Saint Michaels Mount, Cornwall ) is home to twenty five ( give or take) residents in its' village , has its own Kirk, Kirk yard, ancient natual harbour, and beautiful gardens that are full of exotic flora.

Nessy was fierce for life from the beginning. He had zest beyond the other lads of the small village. He was not really better at many things but he was quick and smart and used his head if his minute body was not equal to the tasks or play of the other children.

Though many wagged their heads at his pint sized self, They knew not to let tongues wag. In such a tiney place as the Village on The Mount, it seldom took as much as an hour to find the source of an ill word. Often in small places gossip is as rampant as in large. But here on The Mount, where so many lived and died in previous years in the monestaries and religious cells, nary an ill word was oft' spoke. For all their Christian ways... the Island Mount' folk' belived the dead saints would see an evil deed. Or prehaps hear an evil word. Silly to you and me prehaps, but to the folks on the Island it was real enough.

His parents loved but did not spoil him, his da' was 'prout' on his lad. He took 'Nessy lad' and taught him to swim almost as soon as the boy could walk. "No good having a boy drownt fer te' lack o' knowin' 'ta stroke m'dear. He had calmed Essie's fears. 'Twill be the mor'n' safe fer't". Essie knew this and soon was brave in her own bare feet in the gentle waters on the beaches of the mainland. She had no mind to miss out on this joy of her son's life.

The summer when Nessy was eight, he proved to be the best and strongest swimmer of all the boys. It was a time when many a Royal sailor was about, the Cornwall coast was teeming with the news of the Kings latest doings. It was a hot year and the normal sicknessess of summer times were about. People on the Mount tried to stay off the mainland as much as possible. This meant the few same aged boys often swam for fun and competition amongst themselves not being allowed to play with the warf mens' or mainland children during and out break. Nessy was by far the champion swimmer of the lads. Only the great lads of fourteen or more years could out distance him sometimes.

The boys were playing vigorously and while swiming had lost track of the time. Though the tide had long gone out & was gently turning in, an unusual pattern of waves slipped upon them. Many, many years later Nessy would know it was a smallish series of tidal wave from an earth shaking in far off Greenland. The tide was near to half in, about when the boys usually left the water and ran about doing other games. When the tide was about half in, the causeway was some what crossable in a boat. Smaller boats were still the better.

There were five boys all, at the seawall when a strange out flow of water pulled them from the wall and harbour way, rather than into it. Three boys scambled up the wall very quickly. Nessy and Tom Trevinin, were on the sucking end of the wave. Nessy grabbed and old ancient wall padeye and tried to grab Tom also. Tom drifted out and a mask of fright and horror replaced his jolly boys face. Nessy turned loose, and also caught in the strange tow, swam and drifted after Tom. In a panic Tom grabbed Nessy and both boys went under the water. Nessy was forced to bash Tom and set him loose a moment. The water ebbed then and the boys were nearly out in open water beyond the moorings of the Mount. Nessy felt the difffernt colder temperature of the water. Tom grabbed him again and they went under again. ""Stop tha' tom yer'll downt' us both"" Nessy rasped out when they resurfaced. Tom out weighed the little Plimsoll feller . Nessy had no choice but to out swim and dunk him "a time'm'er two." He let Tom go under by himself once and retrived him. Finally, catching him under the jaw he tried to tow him back toward the boats and the seawall. Men from the warf were rowing towards the boys but it was an odd thing... Just then the water returned and lifted the boys and the boats rapidly towards the seawall and moorings. They would be bashed and hurt for sure. Nessy felt about with his feet for any old snaggs of the ancinet forrest that had its' last remains under water near here. His foot touched one and he tried to grab for a foot hold with his toes but was to quicklybourne away. Tom was coughing hard, he'd gotten a snout full of water. He instintivly flailed with his hands knocking Nessy off away from him. Another small powerfull wave over took them. The men in the boats were closer, now too, Nessy dived about and Tom crashed into him as they were underwater. Nessy grabbed a handful of hair. Toms was thick and could be well grabbed. He pulled the boy up and fliped himself to his back. The spalsh of an empty water cask barrel was just near him. He could not hold the cask barrel and Tom. So he twined his hand abut the toss line and hung on making what little progress he could. At least by the line they would not be smashed to bits on the long, small, fast, wave., as it spedd toward mount and shore. Though only about a foot in height the wave was fast and one more would soon break over them. Finally the men in the boat fought to them. They were saved... carried along in the boat now they skimmed just over the causeway towards the rock of the shore. Ney't ta' worrit' lads a boat man yawed out to them, weave'd been pooh'shed above the savigin' roocks."" Nessy was only aittle surprised to hear the accent of the Scilly Islands. He was to tired and scared to respond. At high tide they would have been dashed upon the slight bluffs on the end of the beach as it was they were whirrled above the high tide line and left in humble,thankful, bewilderment, upon the last four inches of grassy mix as gently as a child might be laid to sleep.

Later Toms' mother would praise Nessy above Toms endurence of it. ""More like Half Drownted than sav'edaah'' Tom would spew out. "" Better half downt, an' alive than all drownt' and eating your suppers wi' Davy Jones"" Tom's ma'm would say.

When grown, Tom would occasionaly and spontaniously hug Nessy, slug Nessy, and walk away quickly..

The rock is 250 feet in height, and has possessed a castle since 1047. You see the restored seawall and man made assist to the natural harbor. Looking remarakably close to how it has appeared since the waining of the Dark Ages.

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Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll. Pg 3

2008-06-14T15:18:27-04:00

When summer had passed and Nessy was into his ninth year full well, His m'am began to tell him of her people in the North West of Scotland, near to the Irish border. The tales were grand and much of what Esmeralda told her laddie was true. Nestor began to yearn to go there and learn the grander things of life.

Lestor Plimsoll, saw how quit and agile his boy was. Nestors' mind was years ahead of many his own age and a few of the Islands grown persons' as well.
He told his boy one day. Nestor I know ye ha't a love of books and a sharp'et mind as well. I'll teach ye all I can in the ways of fishing and tides, for a man must know his roots in all ways. If ye'll learn yer lessons here wit' me and do well, Ay can promis't as ye'll learn all ye want and git ta' yer muth'ers people too. An' I'll be prowt' on ye'es lad.

Honest and anxious to please his father and do well for him Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll, learned all there was to fishing, sailing, and rowing and tides. How many ways there were to catch fish net fish, sell and cook the fish. He sailed solo his first time near to eleven years old and was hawking his catch as well as any other boy who sailed and caught fish from the seas around The Mount. Spring was nearly two weeks early it seems that year of turning twelve. Nestors father kept his word and then he and his wife made arrangements for their son to journey North to his mothers people.

A day before the journey began. Lester Plimsoll took his diminutive son a walk upon the low tide beaches of the mainland.

Waving his hand back against the view of the 'Mount', Lestor Plimsoll spoke. ""Me boy' he said 'what 'd' ye sees? All that ay've known da'. was the boys answer. His da' smiled then. Ay lad all ye've known babe and wee laddie an' lad. Now whe're ye are going I can say nutthin' o' it as
Ay have not know'ed of it but from yer m'ams stories. Ay 'd like it fine if ye' was ter fallo' in yer da's way of' life. "Tis' good honestin' work."" Here he paused as if to wipe a grain of sand from his weathered face. "" 'Tis fishin' Ay love an' th' other work here is but the 'balls' lad, the tin mines, what break a mans back and keep his coin purse to thin. A piratey way is there too, but livin' agin' the law w'gi' a man a short life, a long rope an' a short drop lad. So a'rights' a short life.""

Lester Plimsoll then pointed to the dilapidated boat house used now and again for schooling when there were enough students."" Yee've taked all waht ya kin there, laddie, and all th'e honors we ha' to give a bright lad here 'bouts and ye not yet twelve when ye polishers it all up too!!"" A wide grin spread upon Lester Plimsolls face for just a moment. "" Now laddie ye've a way with books and 'tis all the better for a man if he can earn his livin' by way of book learnin' Ay' promis'et ye the chan'cet if ye done well and good for me wit' the fishin' Yu was true to yer word, and now Ay'll be true ta' mayne. A manz' is no' much a man wit' out a true word. Nestor blinked back his own great tears. Lads of twelve did not spill tears ( in public ). He Da' cleared his throat and gave his boy one last thing to think about. "'Nessy' Yer m'am is an heiress sure, of what ay've never known nor cared as she let me be her support in all her life. Yer ta' maybe learn maybe never learn, the fullness 'o' dat... inher'tence... But I've a mite to give ye' lad just son to man. "" With that Lester Plimsoll, reached into his pocket a retrieved a small item wrapped in a fine linen kerchief. ""Yer m'am made this fer me on the once'sest celebratin' or our wedding. Ay flapped it about a bit when yer was borned and christen'et."" Inside the kerchief was his fathers best, oldest pipe. ""This 'Twas mayne and me da's before me. "tis to be yours now Nestor.
Think ye ta' wait a mite before ye takes up the smokin' o'it. T'abaccy'll pinch yer purse if'n yer means are slight.""
Nestor Horaatio Plimsolls' little wirey body shook a bit as he wept a little in broad daylight. ""Oh Da' I thank ye' fer ye'r trust, ye'r words, an' tha' gifts."" He hugged yhos Da' then tightly but oh so briefly, tw'nt be manly to do otherwise.
Man and boy walked about for many hours they discussed the waves and watched the tide turn the sunset, and when they sailed the few minutes home, they each knew as they docked and secured the lines for the pirouge, it was maybe the one last time together.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll pg 2

2008-06-12T23:11:43-04:00

Nestors grandmother belonged to a Scots-Irish branch of the clan McGheegon. They lived a rugged yet well heeled life. At the tender age of seventeen, the grandmother was said to have had a 'misfortune' ( or adventure ) at the hands of an "'auld Irish uncle".
We shall not here and now be concerned with any details of that particular event. However... This episode had caused the old wives and widows of the clan to refer to her in not so flattering adjectives and noun titles, in the locality. So much so, that the grandmother uprooted herself by herself and moved far away. In fact she took herself to the south,south, South Coast of Cornwall. One could not get much further south and still walking, unless the divine nature were to take the feet. There she found herself 'a fishers cot' and settled down. She referred to herself as an heiress and none knew to question her. She had a wee baby when she come'd to The Mount., of South Cornwal. And she called herself Mrs. McGheegon. Obviously a young widow of some means. By and by she married and was in some short span of years accepted by the locals who never could get a word of history out of her. When the marriage was known to the 'Auld Aunties' up to the Scots- lands they referred to her in decidly kinder adjectives and nouns, Not that the grandmother ever cared a fig about it from the day she left. The child Esmeralda' for that was the childs name. Grew well and thrivied ( yes thrivied ) in the place where she lived and dwelt.

A day came and the grandmother sent Esmeralda to her peoples clan in the way far Northwest of the island. It was time she knew of her whole history and was well educated and well turned out. So the girl child was nearly seventeen and went to live with the many aunts and uncles, cousins and relations of her mothers people. Eleven years she was in that far place.

Eventually the lass 'langied' for the south, her mother and her "ain home upin' the sea!"

When Esmeralda returned home she and her mother went about arm and arm for many weeks. Seldom were the two seen apart. At the end of the fall something near to the fourth month of her return Esmeraldas mother left this world.
Many knew the sorrow of placing a head stone that year. For a time the light was gone from Essies' eyes. She mourned her mother hard. But time passed and the return of spring brought Essie's first smile in two seasons to her pretty face. She wrapped a shawl around her soulders and took herself a walk to the cemetry' where her mother had been laid. The lady in mention had been granted the rare privledge to rest in the kirkyard upon The Mount. Essies' step-father had arranged long ago that his wife would lay in the tombed hillside of The Mount. Essie went often to visit the place and lay a few blooms to cheer herself of her loss, She felt closer to her when she went to honor the one who had given her such a good life. How surprised she was to find many a fine flower and a wreath, freshly made upon the grave. Though she asked about for many a day she never found whom it was that was the bequithor of the bouquets. Occasionaly over all the years, of her life, flowers would appear on the grave.

One day a package arrived and Esmeralda found a tidy sum of money to her name. She had always been refered to as the 'heiress'. With the money was also a pouch, in the pouch was a ring. It had been sewn all 'round about and could not slip from the pouch. She knew it was her mothers. Had never seen the ring even, but held it dear. She supposed that it all came to be from the clan and the stepfather. She lived a life of economy and did well to live alone.

Eventually her time of mourning was over and she was bored. She craved a bit of company and fun. On a balmy and warm night at a low tide she joined the warfmen of the mainland and their companions upon the docks and the causeway, for a dance. The music was cheery and the night warm. Esmeralda found herself in want of a drink. Some local lad fetched her one and then another. Oft she danced, and soon there was but one partner for her time and again. Refreshed by her punch, the lad fetched her al she wanted to drink. Glisting with exhertion, ( glisten 'twas but a very proper word for a bit of shiny, dewy, sweat!) She danced and she 'glistened' and she requested of her partner to be 'refreshed' several times. Later that night there was a wedding upon the warf. Two near strangers were married and just before the dawn after the tide began to turn, a small boat carrying two was seen making its way toward the villge on The Mount.

Esmeralda awoke a Mrs. Mrs. Lestor Horatio Plimsoll, to be exact! Aside from a headache and some blushing memories. She was neither shocked nor sad nor distressed. Here was something new after all and in her little cottage too. She was married and it was a normal thing was it not? After a while she found herself to be in the "family way'. She was pleased with that. She smiled better for most all her life after. She had been truley joyed by the realization that a child of her own was a sure thing. She settled down nicley then, and was glad to be having ""a child, a barren of myne ain' to love an't'ta'care fer'"

Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll was born and life was goodly and Esmeralda and her manny were all contented.

Life and Times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll pg 1

2008-06-05T18:26:53-04:00

These are the Life and Times of

Nestor Horaatio Plimsoul.

Nestor came into this world under the ensign of Gail Storm Warning.

Seems 'twas to be portent for most of his life.

It was spring, morning, and near to dawn. As the day was breaking the cry of a wee, wee, baby boy. A Cornwall laddie was come into this world.

The babe was quite small but a lusty, thriving, cry came forth of him. It rivaled the blustering storms howl that wracked the shores of Old Cornwall that morn.

His Da' was quite sure that this lad was not going to be of the usual sort. Legend had it that babes born at dawn, in spring, in a gale, always had a wanderlust in the heart. His proudly fatherly heart showed within him a mist of emotion he was seldom to know in all his years. Aside from the coup of marrying his wife, this was the highest moment his life had ever known. "A man wants always to have a son at his back." This he had said gently and softly to his fine little new son. Rocking the new baby back and forth, the father pronounced his name. "Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll meet yer old da' "!

So Nessy was dried and wraped and tucked into his mams' arms. She loved him well and resolved that he should have all that could be given him. She stroked his little lined cheeks with a small, soft, velveted, pouch. It was old now and somewhat worn. It conatined the best of her inheritance to him. Then she fed her boy at the breast of her motherhood and Nestor slept.

Now let us retreat to the beginnings of the Tale. To relate of how things came to be for the advent of this baby boy.

At the School Desk

2008-05-25T17:57:16-04:00

At the School Desk
May 25, 2008 | 1:34PM

Three days left of the school year. The kids fidgeted in their desks. The warmth of the weather added to the impatience of the day.

Rance Cooper, began to scratch idlly on the veneered surface of the desk top. He scrolled a little, then fel the cool painted surface of the metal cubby of the desk. He peeked sideways and began to detail the design in his head into the dirty, flesh colored paint of the desk. It was slow work to make it both quiet and well marked. He hoped this would be his desk next year. Bigger boys were allowed to choose a desk that fit them.

The teacher shifted in her chair and Rance's attention was diverted for a moment. Every one was supposed to be finishing their last library check out. Then all the books would be returned today. Teacher was filling in "comments' on the end of the year notes. Rance put his concentration back on the desk design.

He noticed a blot of real pink nail polilsh. UGH! the desk had belonged to a girl last year! He'd fix that disgusting 'mark' on his claimed territory ! He worked a little longer, yeah he was gonna' get it all taken care of. Hmmm the design was real good and straight but some how it didn't seem 'right'. He'd have to try to get a view of it from some where else in the room. Raising his hand he got permission to tie his shoe. He eased out of the desk and down in his knee beside the right side of the desk. He could look at it as he tied his shoe. With his eyes he studied the lines of his markings. They were straight and even but some how they were not quite like the "Greek Key" labove the Garrety Theatre markee'. He'd have to pretend to read the library book and think how to improve the design and make it look more like it should. Back in his seat he picked up his book three pages left he'd have to make it look good.

Feet were beside him now. The low healed shoes of his teacher. Rance gulped, he'd gotten caught up in the words of the paragraph he was supposed to 'pretend' to read. As quickly as they appeared they strode off. Nothing was said, he must be in the clear. Teacher announced for "everyone to keep reading she would be right back. In one minute." Rance slid out of his seat and with the pin he had been scratching with resumed the work on his design. The day after tomorrow, at noon, the bigger boys and janitors would start stacking and storing the desks. He'd find his easily enough in the fall.

Rance was aware that two bodies were standing in the class room doorway, he tried to act like his neck needed rubbing. He picked his book up as casually as possible. ' Over There" it was so softly spoken, as Miss. Widly pointed right at him. Principal Leederman, glided over, squatted down and nodded. Standing up he said "Come on Rance I have a job for you son." He sounded so nice. Rance was confused. He expected a paddeling or to have to run laps or something. He stood up and left the room with the principal.

Mr. Leederman spoke. "Rance thats an interesting design you put on that desk, any special reason why you picked that one in particular.?" Rance was confused but said, " it's the Greek Key" pattern from over the markee down at the theatre sir. I', I ,just wanted to make sure I got the same desk next year, a big one I could sit in real good sir, a;just'ble 'case I do some growing over b'fore next school year sir." Mr. Leederman, stopped short. He looked at Rance and his expression changed from surprise to anger to understanding. "My boy, he said slowly, there is nothing Greek about what you scratched into that desk frame.... I figured sompthin' was wrong with it Mr. Leederman" the boy said humbly I was figurin' on it.... I ' I sure am sorry." Rances feet scuffled a bit. "Rance" said Mr. Leederman softly but with deadly earnest, " you created a row of swaztica's...." Realization bloomed on the boys face. His Father and two of his uncles had died in the war when he was was just three years old. That was nine years ago. He hung his head. "I'm so sorry Mr. Leederman, I didn't mean....." I know son" the man replied I know. I'll take a licken' for it sir... a good one too!" Rance looked eye to eye at his principal whose own face and neck bore the marks of hand to hand combat from the 'Battle of the Bulge'. "No, Rance I'm going to put you to work son. Walk with me." They walked out of the building, to a shed behind the school where the desks that needed repair were always stored.

Unlocking the door, Mr. Leederman stood aside. Rance peeked in and saw more desks than he thought the little building could store. Some older and wooden, some newer and metal, all were dirty and in need of sanding and painting.

"You can start tomorrow, paints in the office, and you will sand every mark every spot and scratch off all these desks. We've had a lot of children born since the war Rance. They need desks. We'll have more students next year than ever before in the history of the school!"

"You'll bring your desk out here tomorrow and do it first son". How'll I know which paint sir Rance asked? It's in war surplus, cans, the pale pink stuff. Lable says "New Skin Pink" Rances face fell off. He smirked then smiled and said "What ever the "War Dept has sir." Mr. Leederman patted him on the shoulder and they chuckled like a father and son, a the prospect of pink desks.

Waynes Album

2008-05-23T13:30:14-04:00

He sat dejectedly in a chair that had seen many better days. A worn and oft fingered picture was in his hands again. His eyes dry but the heart was full of the unshed tears of a generation. Unwashed and uncombed as yet a shaking hand reached up to crumb it's way through the thick foliage of his head. 'Foliage.' Outside the dead and dry branches of the season were trying to come back to life. The photo was dead and dry to or was it? He shifted slightly. The rickty chair found its' counterbalance. The ash of an unsmoked cigarette grew long in the saucer where it rested. "Grew?' Smoke curled high and undisturbed to the celing of the room.
Sparse light was filling the crack at the edge of another dawn. Hazey clouds were on the horizon. He wondered if his mind would be clear or cloudy this day. Some thing he wanted not to feel was germinating at the edge of his remembering. It was taking hold as surely as the light at the edge of the horizon. 'Germinating?'

Shallow breathing turned to agreatdeserate exhale. as if the forced exit of his wind would stave off the returns of the day. 'Return?' like a ghost with a claim the features in the photo became sharper. He abssently reached for the burning cigarette. Inhaling with need he blew the smoke across the old picture giving it a microsecond of eerie reality. It was enough, the seed took in his thinking. 'Root?'

Metaphors of civilian life... the grotesque pain of living of being alive, but many were not, and for what ? He shuttled the still lighted ciargette into the neck of an empty brown bottle. It hissed as it met liquid dregs.

'Dregs?' human dregs, the baby killers, the answerers to the orders. The sharp barbs of the anti-peacers, the chic smug protected who had the mouth of the devil and the freedom to speak it. All the remembered words hit like a battering ram in his head, an exponential cacophony of sounds and pain. It burst like a photo flash into his concious mind illumintaing everything. The feelings churned and memories filled him. All like pictures in an album. Framed in his being like a museum exhibit there was a revolving door but no escape, or exit.

The old wood stadium chair spoke in rickety protest as he turned and placed the photo on the table. He stood up. He needed fresh air. One hand reached for the nikon and the other raked through his hair again. The life old habit barely noted to him. With a will he crushed back the moist heavy feeling of his heart. He needed air. When he was on the beach , the day light was gone from grey to almost rose. The tide was out for the morning still in its' backward run from the high tide mark. 'Run?' He carefully put the burned butt of the cigarette now cold and dead into his shirt pocket. He raised the camera up to peer through the lens. looking breifly down he saw at his feet the salvation of teh day. A red orange agate. He stooped to look at it. It was dead, cold, but not lifeless. It glistened though it was not wet. The inclusions of it, some called flaws. ""Nah"" they were not flaws they were the workings of nature on its surface, sanded polished chipped and smothed over by the churning waves. Decades of this action gave it its' beauty, "huh" he chuffed outloud to no one. He worked his camera in several angles, looking for the 'shot' that every photographer hoped would be the trophy shot. The whisper soft click and whirr of cameras were tonic to his embattled mind and memories. The tonic he needed more than any other. There was but one vivid focus in his mind. One picture in his eye. Thirteen clicks of the lens. He stood then picking up the agate as he straightened. "Wonder how that would feel in a shoe he aked out loud?" He set the small stone back into the pebbly shoreline. He smiled a rye and knowing tight grin. "Tshh" he knew exactly how it would feel!

Branches of Thought

2008-05-21T17:56:20-04:00

Sitting in the thick branches of the Maple tree. She tried again to whistle through her teeth. Making a semblence of sound she then tried the two-fingers on the mouth whistle technique. That one required ah, a skill she had not figured out yet. In a few days she would have braces on her teeth. Oh it was scary and worst of all... she would be even more different. More different than Bic, more different than all the other kids. She already wore corrective shoes, had hundreds of freckles, way to curyl hair and was skinnier than a ballerina, skinnier than Twiggy even. NO! she didn't want her teeth fixed.

Um well wait a minute, nawww lots of kids had buck teeth. Only a few had freckles though. No it was scary and maybe she would not be able to whistle at all after the braces were done. She hadn't been allowed to cry or whine or poorest any more. So the tree had become the place to let it all kinda' run through her thinking.

Well at least she'd get out of half a day at school.

Dr Weddei was not a nice man she really, really, didn't like him. But that's who was picked, so thats who it would be for a least four years.

The leaves were full out on the trees and she was nealry invisible. It was great being up here. She really wanted to climb higher but that was scary to her mother and she would not climb so high. She wanted to though, but the tree stood on the parking. The grassy space was small and the concrete sidwalk and the street were the only other surface under the tree. Well some times the car was there it would break a fall but dad was always taking about broken collar bones and stuff, so she would be obedient. IF not she might be banned from the tree altogether. That would'nt be any fun.

Bic would either be jealous or odd about the braces. Bic liked things a certain way. Bic lived in a house where all the rules were way differnet. She didn't really understand that at all. Nothing in her house was like that, but Bic was not the same as other kids. Any way after a while Bic wouldn't make such a big deal out of it...... Feeling nervous again as she thought about how much it would hurt, she changed her postion in the tree. Her boney little bottom didn't like to be in one place to long. Besides tree bark was rough on this kind of maple.

It made her feel good to be hidden. She hid in the house sometimes too. Not to spy like some of her brothers and sisters thought but to be alone. Up here was out in the open but completly hidden and usually alone. She came up here when the neighbor kids were mean or just doing stupid stuff. Oh when she needed to feel sorry for herself. NO one wanted you around when you were whiney.

Time to get up in the apple tree in the back yard. She placed her feet carefully on the holds that would lead her to where the large branch forked upward. Then she hung on to the large branch and sort of swooped down and onto the grass. Full tilt running to the back, she monkied her way up the other tree limb by limb. Now this was a happy place. Hanging by her knees she waited there just scanning the back yard upside down. Peeking through the slats of the fench she watched the activity in the alley. Bic would like this..... To bad they lived just a little to far away from each other. Bic was always doing something interesting. Bic was gonna' go salmon fishing today... she had wanted to go but some things were not allowed. Bic's family and her family were not really friends enough for some stuff. Oh well she and Bic were freinds. Forever! Forgetting now about the braces she heaved herself back up right scamped back down the tree like Cheeta and Tarzan in a race, and went into the house... Kool-aid was in the fridge in the old metal pitcher. She loved kool-aid. She hoped there was some ice.

The Hand Washer

2008-05-19T13:04:14-04:00

Ben Lazar, stood in front of the kitchen sink. His retirement was almost here a few more days and the new house would be the only place he needed to be at any hour of the day.

No more babies, no more intruments and no more clients. Well patients just was not the politically correct term oh he clucked. No more blood on his hands. Or the gloves...yes, but it was his hands inside those gloves. He really hated the blue ones. Some how they reminded him of old monster movies. He finished washing his hands. They were clean now.

Time to consider lunch. A familar voice was telling him to come sit down, lunch was ready, He made his way to the table and picked up the clear plastic fork. "Pinic style today Ben. The voice came from the loveliest familiar face, will you join me Louise? You know I can't Ben, not today. But you go ahead and eat.""

Ben smiled and then fixed his concentration on the chicken salad. As always he carefully scooped from the center, to the back and to the right side and to the left. Routine had cemented it's self into everything over the years. No matter when he made his practice it was the same day in an day out. Sundays had always brought relief. He had not worked Sundays since he opened his own pratice. Ben Lazar Womens' Medicine Plaza. Oh it had been good to him and he hoped good for those who had sought him out.

He finished his chicken salad, and began on the pears.
"How long?" he heard behind him... Been in practice since 1975 he said, I 'm ready to finish up. How long here at the new place Dr.Lazar?"" Luh--zar He corrected, like in a Russian ruler Luh-- tzar". He replied with out looking up. Who ever had Louise ushered in to talk to him? He spoke again, "please do not expect me to respond until I've finished up". His voice had sounded like that of a man used to being in charge. " Ever use stainless" the soft voice behind asked? Though Ben knew whoever it was, was talking to Louise, Ben still became a little aggravated. Surgical steel or toss away plastics. Both good both save money, who wants to know? This a bit of an intrusion you know... Ben said tersly.""Louise, would you bring me a bigger spoon, this one isn't going to get the best results."" Louise brought the special spoon, and Ben picked it up. Next time just put it in my hand, will you. Sorry Ben I must be out of practice." Ben finished and said ""all done now you'll be fine now, Ben patted the top of the chair... here take care of this won't you I need to get washed up again.""

""You see don't you? It was louise speaking. He needs an evaluation. He's been evaluated. He needs to stop this has gone on for so long. How long?"" said the other voice, it was a pleasent voice a gentle baritone well modulated. ""Seven months ago is when we all began to notice Louise answered. What does he expect you to do with that? Dr. Gainer asked"" ? Louise held up the plate. The seperted bit of chicken sald were is consice seperted sections. "" It's a D&C Procedure, it would need to checked for throughness""... ""I see said Dr. Gainer. And this began when? Just after the Plaza closed and he went back to deliveries only Louise replied"".

Neither of them spoke, as Ben finished washing his hands.

""Lets go to your den darling Louise spoke to Ben. It's the best roomin the house she said enthusiastically."" The trio made their way to the lovely and comfortable room. A tiny half bath was at the far end of the room its' door slightly ajar. Excuse me for a moment said Dr. Lazar..... I believe I have forgottne to wash my hands after lunch. Louise looked at Dr. Gainer. He spoke in a low tone full of sympathy and confidence. "Mrs. Lazar you've done the right thing calling me."

Ben came and joined them, seating himself in a large stylish over stuffed leather arm chair. Wonderful place you two have here Dr.Lazar said Sr. Gainer.
""Yes we certainly, have enjoyed planning and building and spoiling ourselves, with every convience, possible. Ben smiled as he spoke. Can you image Louise putting up with an old man like me for the rest of our years?? She's never had me underfoot before."" Louise, smiled and replied, Ben I've waited a life time to have you underfoot darling, it'll be like a honey moon."" Ben smiled leaned over and patted her hand across the small space between them.

""We had no children of our own Dr.Gainer, an ironic twist in our lives, Louise said, I've always tried to spoil Ben instead. We didn't build the house to large but we added some unusual touches. You see the windows? At five feet of wall they give us privacy and quiet but set sideways they allow for light all day and they open easily. It'll give Ben a chance to wear is robe all dayis so chooses. She smiled, and continued. The large fireplace, reminds us each of our child hood homes. It's all things like that, that we mean when we say spoiled. We planned for four years, then we built and it was almost two years to get it just right. The landscapers finish Thurday and then Ben retires Friday. Nearly perfect!"" Ben spoke again. I met Louise my first year of practise. she needed some plumbing repairs and I was just the man to do it eh? He smiled a long smile of memory. "" It was not the cost or the time involved that makes it a home, Louise its' you. You are the heart of this home dear. How you have tolereted me these many years is a wonder no mans' mind can resolve."" ""You spared me no expense darling said Louise, then her face showed a darker mood change and she bit down on her lip, she'd said the wrong thing she knew... Ben stood up and stode his long legs to the fireplaces' mantle. ""Cost? he nooded his head gravely, cost.... one hundred twenty five, babies... he patted the carved wood gently, he turned then, and ran his hand over teh back of the short leather couch where Louise, and Dr. Gainer sat. Three hundred four 'procedures', the word procedures had a sad ironic tone to it as he utterd the word. He looke out the window. sixteen unborn little ones eash he splayed his hand the direction of teh all the unique windows. He looked as his hands as if foreign objects for a moment. He saw the blue gloves were soiled with remaining blood spots. ""Excuse me, he said absetly to the other two, I"ve something on my hands, I'll just give them a good scrub"". Dr.Gainer, gazed at Ben as Ben went through the motions to remove invisible gloves. I'll be with you shortly he said as he entered the small half bath and partly closed the door behind him. The faint sound of the running water hitting the silence like a distant mourning cry.

Louise, looked at Dr. Gainer with pleading eyes""' It's the abortions Dr. Gainer, when he stopped doing them and went back to deliveries we thought his guilt would reslove. You can see how it is. Can you perhaps schedule him this week?"" Her voice was a bit desperate. ""Call me Pastor."" Louise don't bring him to the counseling center. Come to church this Sunday, we'll show him how to wash those hands in the blood of Jesus.""

Upon the Roof

2008-05-08T00:22:21-04:00

Climbing the ladder she felt it vibrate. Rather a nervous feeling came over her but as she ascended to the roof she felt better again. Heights had never been a problem. Oho' the world looked really good from up here. He had needed her again. He had called to her and she was not to reluctant, but roofing was an absolute mystery even to her, and she hung around mostly helping when the boys had moved out on their own.

Whew it was hot up here. No wonder he seemed so cranky, his jungle rot was probably acting up making his feet and arms feel cruddy and itchy. Some times his malaria flaired up too when he got hot like this. Well and then he was a fireman too. But he said the adrenaline rush usually staved off any discomfort when he was in his 'trun-outs' and on the scene of a fire. Yeah he was her hero forever that dad.

She held the shingles as directed. At the pitch of the roof in this one spot, the cone he had called it, he had been afraid of loosing his balance if he tried to reach to far for everything. She wanted to dance on the ridge, she saw herself like a roof sprite, or nyade or something from Tolkein....But that would be so foolish. She smiled. Then she asked him her really big question. The real reason she had come up to be with him.

Would he be at her baptism? 'No' he'd said. Her fifteen year old heart fell flat. He looked at her as he hammered. Then he turned back to his task and spoke. His voice sounded so funny, half angery, but it was tinted with concern too. He didn't believe she was sincere about this, this decision for babtism. He was worried she was only doing it for 'social reasons" oh! Oh! she was so stunned. She lost her words,... But fought back up to courage enough to say ''it was not social". That was not the reason. The rough unsympathetic texture of the shingling was suddenly annoying. She wanted to cry she felt so hurt that he would think that this huge decision was social. "We already baptised you, we raised you the way we thought best, in your mothers' faith" I agreed to that when I married her. I made that choice''. He had said in a funny voice. I was to learn that voice as I continued on my journey to adulthood. "This is my choice".... she almost raised her voice to loud. Oh this was a hard converation. He was not going to stop her. He just thought she was ""kinda' getting brainwashed by her new friends."" Careful now she told herself, easy words here. She shifted her weight and he cautioned her. "It would be a mean fall."

She had asked him then if he maybe wanted to get down and talk. He gave that pained look he sometimes had when it was bad timing. He almost always took advantge of their time alone to talk imortant subjects."I have to finish this...that's why your'e up here." She'd asked what else she needed to do. "Hold the tacks' he had said, afraid, if they got knocked off it would not be possible to finish. "It's 'sposed to rain tomorrow". There had been that little hint of what he called the 'Washington Hillbilly' in his voice. Looking around for 'tacks' she said that she didn't see any'' in a frown and a grimace he'd pushed the roofing nails into her hand." 'oh you meant 'nails'." Those are 'roofing' 'tacks'! He'd informed her, said they're different than nails... for amoment he was genuinly patient as he'd had her see, shown her carefully, the wide really flat little heads'. Nodding she had crawled with him inch by inch foot by foot. Shortly they were finished.

He held the top and coached her going down the ladder, told her to stop before she got all the way down.

Holding on as directed a bag went flying past her head and hit the grass below, this was followed by a hammer and a few unused shingle panels. He laughed a smug laugh. He was not really happy, she knew that. When finally they were both on the ground he said he was bathing and going to have a cold beer. Oh he was hot for sure she knew, he only drank one or two sixpacks all summer. He said it calmed the malarial jitters he got sometimes. Now secretly pleased that this beer would irritate mom, she said nothing. She checked to make sure his quinine water was there for him too.

As he peeled out of his shirt and placed it in the washer she asked. 'Could she go to Flee's house ? She'd ride her bike and save the drive. He told her to be home by dinner. As he peeled off his under shirt....he spoken crisply in a funny voice. 'He didn't care if she did it, he meant the baptism, He'd have to work and wanted to support her mother. She knew he meant her "church" moms church, he had not attended for years and years. Neither had mother, it was a funny puzzle.

""Faith is a private matter"" that's what he'd said. She had looked at him ..... his look was odd sort of worried but pleading, and yet he was not ging to change his position. Oh! a light bulb went on. He was a Believer, yes, yes, he was, he was! He hadn't quit church, he had gone underground! Just like the early church did into the catacombs. Oh my he didn't quit God, he'd quit moms' church.... All the little things over the years he had said about his mothers church and faith, and his grandfather's being a minister as he grew up. He wasn't catholic, but he wasn't anti-faith...he was underground and being ""private"" so as never to offend mom. oh..! What a secret to have. Oh man.... she was half pleased mostly shocked.

She had said she would be back on time...she knew the consequences if she wasn't. Oh wait until she told Flee'. Flee' would understand and never say a word to a soul. Flee' never gossiped! Out the door and on the five speed. It was good to feel the wind blow her hair off her face...... Yeah, real good feeling.

Corries Roar of Betrayal

2008-05-06T08:24:26-04:00

On moons rise 'n' tide she rolls her sails trimmed afresh
the patterned waves beneathe her hulls tell wher' she be,
on Scottia's coast fair Scottia's coast, tho' land we yet not see
for silence we wait til the sea hags' washbowl screams
so fogged the lay and latitude, but what hears we abreast?

The auld hags cloth, a wash again we know the rimmed place
to dare we must have hearts like axe blade done in fire
the breath of foam we hear it rise, we see wit' the ear and not the eye
the Kull be near and stone of legend stacked, we're sure to sack
into the spiral tides we go where no man der'st, sail the race.

Oh courage! Whited hearts not be, Oh courage! Bear lads we'e of the sea.
tho' hair did twist and tongue did lie, we've not to fear, we'll no the same die
for maids hair not our, knots do make, nay, nay bear lads tis horse hair made
oh do sea swell and draw us to ride, and yank on the oars all as one tied.
We seek a treasure new, a bride of rank perhaps to take, circlets gold for me.

Be quit now lads and girt your lions, pull the great oar to toil for gain
in halls o' sing us an' raise a drink, to the dragoneers, cups wilt klink
Oh swirl the sea an' whirl the glog, under the safey of the hushering song
silent we do come ashore for none can supress Great Corries wide roar.
Roar you on berserkers untamed we'v skirt a 'round sea to pillage to blade.

Up the shore rocks edge o'er, on ward to landward and up the craigy way
no Keep shall belay us, we highland ascend, to knock on the hinges of castle an' glenn
crofters cot or fishers net, we catch treasure, then home we get
No battry of sea no oaken door, no vrechtens furries no malstrom roar
can slog the Norsemans serpent or sail, on wolfs.... we've yet to feast this day

***************************************************************************************************

In the waters off the isle of Mull a huge whirlpool some times forms
its seasonal roar can be heard for miles, about twenty as the locals report.
This poem though not 'epic' captures the idea of the feirce Vikings as they plan to raid on the dangerous coastlands in the season of the whirlpools appearing. Apparently lost in fog they don't flinch a bit.
They wait until the waters stir and let their long boat be dragged past all the rocky places because the water must rise in order to swirl so violently. They need to strap all the oars to gether to make then strong enough to row across the top of the vortex. The noise is so loud they nearly faint and the hole of suction in the middle of the raging whirpool is horrifing enough to make them pale with fear. Not a normal feeling for a Viking Berserker. The wildest and bravest of the brave. Their plan works and while the whirlpool is still screaming it's lengendary deafening noise they ascend the cliff to a wealthy Lord s' castle. They haul a battering ram to assault the huge doors and of course they will raid else where if it suits them, then they will rush back to the ship and slip away the dragons head on the ship protecting them as they leave.

Legends in Scotland and in the Norse lands tell of a great son of a Viking Chief whose ropes for his ship where made of the hair of virgins true. He anchors his ship to close to Corrievrechten, as the whirpool is called. Because one of the maids was not a true maid having given herself to a member of the crew before they left to sail to Scotland. ( many hundreds of year ago.) After the first rope gave way. The rest of the nine ropes all snapped one by one and everyone perished in the waters of the violent malestom, as large whirpools are some times called.

Legend also says that a haggerd old woman a giantess, washes her clothes in the whirlpool when the seasons change. So there is lots of lore to draw upon for the body of the *ahem* "poem". Hope you like it and yes the meter is irrelgular not everthing rhymes, I used a structure called assonence, ( what you can use when the ryhme "don't cut it" )

When you know love...

2008-05-01T19:31:26-04:00

Leaning over the ocean cliff top the scene that met her eyes was spectacular. He held her tightly lest she fall again. The brace on her arm was a hindrence to her as she tried to lean forward just a touch more. For the first time ever his fear was communicated to her in taut silence. The muscle in his great forearm was strained. Was she actually being this glib he wondered? Or was she just to unaware even after all these years of teaching from him?

The view was mezmerizing, she wanted to step closer just six or seven inches. His arm tightend, His voice warned. Finally she caught a glimpse of the beachs' shoreline. That was all she had wanted. A clear single second of the full height, the full plunge. Oh it was far to delicious. To brief. His hand tightened and his light tugg said "enough" . She compliantly backed away , turned and smiled. He was only half recovered of his fear when he posed her for a picture. Prophetically the last in the roll of the film. Later that photo held enourmous emotion, when ever gazed upon. They started back down the path. An easy desent for both, but they must hurry. Time wouldn't ease more hours from the day for anyone.

As they half raced down the slopes of the path. He smiled a bit. He was competative, still. The difference in their age meant nothing to him. For the first time she noticed his shoes. Why wasn't he wearing his hiking boots? They were custom made and he practically ran up or down a moutain with them. No boots, just a pair of worn out day shoes. This was a testimony to the spontenaity, of the trip. Oh the weather had been more than good. The food had been the same old fare and all the better for it. But neither had taken much in the way of the tradional, for a beach and trail day.

As the last of path was covered and gave way to gravel and old sawdust, she saw him rubbing his wrist and arm. ""Why, what is wrong with your arm?"" He gave her a frustrated look, the smile from the lightly competative path race replaced with something else. She was startled by his answer. He had held her tightly in fear of her falling he had, had, nothing else with which to retrieve or prevent a fall. His jacket and hers tied together would not have been any use either. He haden't
even stuffed a light twine of 100 lb test, in his pocket. Had she slipped or fallen, he would have lost her forever he said, unable to summon help, the path was nearly three miles down and back up again. Even 'if' the fall had been survived. She was wide eyed for a moment. He HAD certianly been pondering a fall. Her fall! He never wasted words when he was upset. She had not considered that a fall might really have happened. He was not a foolish man. He would have let her go and not killed himself too wouldn't he? She knew the answer to that. It was a golden rule. "save yourself that you might save others, don't die in vain."

Here now only on the eve of her going, her leaving his sheltering loving arms forever, had she known. Known the depth of his love. He had held her on the edge of death. All that stood between her and a moment of mortality. 'You have no sense of fear' he said, "No sense of self preservation". "You scare me, I've no more time to teach, you any thing, to show you how to have sense." Now a tear formed in her eye. His mood had not lightened and she has caused him such fear. What was it? He had seen battles, fought fires, resucued, and always been her truest hero! A sinking feeling of reality came over her. Yes she could have fallen, been foolish, but his fear and his love were not about the cliff. She was leaving. Her life would change and no matter what he could not hold tight enough to save her from falling. All her future was with out him beside her. Thats' his fear, he wanted to hold on but loved her enough to let her go. Unselfish love, he loved her more than ever she had perceived. ""Oh"" she felt the tear threaten to well over. She would always be his girl. She knew in a split second of a split second. Her leaving was cutting into the bone of him, the very marrow. She was and would ever be his, little girl. "Daddy" she said, as they climbed into the car for might be their last ride together. Sing me that new rag time song again. Please? ""You Little Pip""? He asked to be sure . 'Yeah, that's the one'. "Well it sure suits you after today," had been his rye retort. She just smiled. He was becoming himself again.