Cowart's Common Room
Twixt here and there

Up at t'other home at the week end, still in the sorting out stage with extra help from ED, YD and OH. Well, I thought it might be extra help, but things didn't get too far with "Muuuuum, come and look at...." anyhow, decided we would have dinner up there, and after figuring out the new cooker [last one held sway in the kitchen from 1951-2001] this dinky toy finally coughed out roast beef and roast vegetables. Roast beef was rare in the middle, and rare RB is NOT something you offer an Irishman brought up in the middle of Ireland by a mother who knew how to scorch everthing thoroughly let me tell you!!! Mme P has had a field day on leftover rare bits!

So around half past three the quaint bell at the front door is "dinged" - it's one of those types that you twitch the leather thongs that hang down and belt away as if you're Sgt. Whosit calling the troops in to dinner. The ferocious looking Cockerel on top will topple down one of these days with some people's "dinging".

Two very nice, small, elderly hill walkers are standing there, flushed a nice cherry red to match their hill walking socks, and he mumbles through a field of face hair "Aim sorray, but we or lost". Being a generally easy going type, I gave them directions down the lane and told them where they would find the local pub - excellent Sunday lunch menu and hot beverages on a bitterly cold day - and the bus stop. They would need the pub while waiting for the magical mystery bus that comes into the village once every year, oh sorry, I mean every hour. More on that anon.

We revenon a nos moutons or something like that, to beef the story up [yes, I am in silly season folks] and after I have washed the dishes, decided where a tiny dishwasher could be fitted into the tiny kitchen until re-build, I go back to the sorting department. The cockerel gives his all again. I open the door, and this time the cherry reds are looking decidedly war torn.

"We took your directions and wound up coming back here through the furze bushes, and they're pretty nasty to climb through too" he tells me indignantly. ['er why didn't they just turn 'round and go back whence they came and avoid gorse gash?] "Right you said, at the end of the lane" she squeaked, "No", I declared, I told you to go left at the end of the lane lane and right at the end of the road". Rolling EyesRolling Eyes

Once again, kitted out with directions they braced themselves and exited down the lane and haven't been heard or seen from since. I do hope they got back to Rathfarnham or Rathdrum or Raheny or wherever it is they came from.

The Magical Mystery Bus. Well, this vehicular method of escaping village life as a teenager and heading oft to local town was once my pride and joy on a Saturday afternoon. That was many a long year ago. In the interim, we have become a wealthy nation and buses? What are they? so the reliable old single decker that chugged itself up hill and down dale, tottered on two wheels 'round dangerous corners and roundabouts has become a thing of the past.

No more every fifteen minutes [time your eggs by it] for the people of the village who may not have a car or are too old to drive, we now have a shiny spanking new double decker that comes once an hour, and goes all over the county. The elderly with free bus passes have taken to going off on Sunday afternoons joyriding. They get on the bus at the terminus in the village, and creak their way up the stairs, safely ensconsced they stay on until she arrives back again at the terminus and then they creak their way off, marvelling at the new housing estates that have grown up in place of the fields of milk cows, purple cows probably, and buttercup laden acres. Alls changed, changed utterly, a terrible beauty is born.

I foresee much to kickstart the brain for blogging, I have even thought of new names for my blog, "The view from the Top of the Bus"; "A view from the Hill", but no, methinks I'll hang on to the kitchen window, the drop isn't as great, and I've grown attached to it.

Fair winds and fair weather to you all, I'll be back sometime later in the week - or as soon as I discover if Broadband has hit the village yet!!!

Posted at 8th Apr 2008 - 01:51PM   Posted by Irish Eyes   Twixt here and there Comments: 8

Re:
Westerwitch's Avatar Ah hah - we have a bell like that - I brought it home all the way from Montana - pressie from my Montana friend.

A bus once an hour - berlimey - you are spoiled.

When do you hope to move into your Mum's house . . must be hard and also lots of good memories going through your Mum's treasures.

Posted by: Westerwitch on 8th Apr 2008 at 02:16PM

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Pondside's Avatar Those hill walkers.........I wonder if they ever found the bus, or if they're still wandering?

Posted by: Pondside on 8th Apr 2008 at 02:39PM

Re:
Ivy's Avatar Oh that sounds fun... those walkers probably too ashamed to encounter the cockerel for the third time probably made their way to Dublin or Cork by now...Cool

Posted by: Ivy on 8th Apr 2008 at 05:06PM

Re:
No they arrived here!!
Great blog! And meat as got to be burned it's the LAW in my kitchen anyway xx

Posted by: Bodran on 8th Apr 2008 at 05:16PM

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Withy Brook's Avatar Burned on the outside and raw inside.....
What a lovely post Irish Eyes.

Posted by: Withy Brook on 8th Apr 2008 at 08:51PM

Re:
Exmoorjane's Avatar Silly ploody idiots! Hope you set Mme Pounce on them.....

Posted by: Exmoorjane on 8th Apr 2008 at 09:43PM

Re:
Cait's Avatar What's a bus?

Posted by: Cait on 8th Apr 2008 at 11:05PM

Re:
Cowgirl's Avatar tee hee did enjoy this one - maybe they could smell the roast beef and were angling for an invite??????? LaughingLaughingLaughing

xx

Posted by: Cowgirl on 10th Apr 2008 at 02:30AM

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