Grumble Monthly – A new magazine series to join such as Poem Pics, Chatty Mag and Rant of the Week etc

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Grumble Monthly – A new magazine series to join such as Poem Pics, Chatty Mag and Rant of the Week etc

I am updating this page and re-blogging it with loads more new stuff in it, cos I had this idea that I might be funny. My mate tells me I am not all that funny usually. Except – when I bitch-slap.ade-scarygreen

Get me mad or give me a platform to grumble and then I am entertaining. That’s what she said any way.

So you are going to have to put up with it right.

Well only once a month or so.

I will collect up all my grumbles and put them altogether into a themed magazine issue (just one of my many threads oh yes).ade

(People who see my posts on Facebook will be breathing a sigh of relief at this point, “Oh Thank the Gods, we don’t have to see his miserable posts three times a day.)

Super –posters are going to be the subject of my vitriol quite soon I can tell you. Ah, no, it will have to wait till next month and I will have to be nice in between times.

Mark My Words I will be jotting it all down and saving it up, so watch them posts of yours, cos I am…

Poundshops. They sell me far too much stuff. It is ridiculous. Oooo a fly swatter, I would like one of those. No. You get five. Five. What on earth do I want with five fly swatters!!!!!!

Lobster pots, they get me mad. There you are having a nice walk by the harbour and there are loads of them piled up (I actually think fishermen/fisherpeople are lazy as them pots are always there on the harbour – they ought to get out fishing more often). People wander by and they go, “Ooooo look lobster pots.” Have you looked at the seafood stalls! Loads of crabs, and like, two lobsters. They are crab pots, crab pots, what are you calling them lobster pots for! That’s why I am cross about Lobster Pots.

Oh no I have gone and called them that now.

loti notice 01Allotments. The committee have gone and put up a map board – ‘You are here’. It is rubbish, well for most of the year anyway. It is only actually accurate in mid-winter; the rest of the year it means nothing. Nothing.

Or.

It could be they have just recently repainted the notice board. So no one is putting notices on it in case it gets spoilt.loti notice 03

Yes that’s it, look, cos next to it there is a really old one and people are putting their notices on that.loti notice 02

And that Michelle, (not that I should really grumble about my wonderful friend), but what a rubbish greenhouse you have.pop up 03 Admittedly it has been in her shed for years unopened. So I borrowed it, and took it to another friends allotment to set up for our mutual seeds (don’t read anything into that phrase this is not a social networking pop up ad.)

But look at it.

pop up 01
Note the bag of pegs

I opened the packaging and it exploded, shot up in the air and became an instant greenhouse.. But what good is it ! There is only room for one plant. You have to peg it down to stop it blowing away. There isn’t a hole anywhere or a lid or anything. How on earth are you going to give it any water! They do need that you know. I hope it blows away.  Someone else can put their plant in it only for it to die.pop up 02

So I built one from bits laying about.cold frameplants 02plants 03plants 04

If you look closely at any of these pictures you will probably see some Mares Tail / Horsetail Fern. It is everywhere. And its roots go down to Australia. Turns out, one of the allotments is rented by the local horticultural college and about thirty years ago, they came and said, look we have a revolutionary way to get rid of Horsetail Fern. Can we come and work on the finer details in tests on an allotment? They planted the whole allotment with the stuff. Then. The tests failed. They didn’t have solution after all. Now. All two hundred and fifty allotments (vegetable gardens), are full of the stuff.

Look out Australia!

oz turned
Jocular yet slightly racist ignorance helped position this image

Whenever I am on a train, I look out at some point and there is a BATA. It says it is a country store and everyone is welcome. What the hell do they sell? I’ve never been in one. They are plonked out of the way by the railway and you never ever pass one by any other means of transport. Welcome? Pah!

Two pouts and you are out. My mum says you can’t trust anyone nowadays cos everything has been taken over by spammers and tricksters and all the cowboys she sees on them programs she watches that warn you about stuff. mum coolWell. She is right. I get at least one friend request a day. When you go on to look, they have nothing on their page at all. Nothing except their two pics, one for the profile, one for the cover pic. They are wearing a short shirt, they have big eyes and they are pouting. Remember my rule to get you through life –Two Pouts and you are OUT.

(btw I did have a genuine friend request one time fairly recently I am sure)

Spoiler alert –

This next bit is going to spoil a film for you, so scroll down past it quick.

Castaway.

Six long years he was there on that island. He could not escape because no boat with just oars would ever get over the great big reef that goes all the way round his tiny little miserable island. He crashed there with a huge pile of parcels he was supposed to deliver. He was going to deliver those parcels. He was going to get away from here and get home and do his job. He would. But one by one he opened the parcels, and each time it was something useful that saved his life. His long miserable life dreaming of the woman he loved who was now with someone else (A dentist!). When he eventually gets home he personally delivers the last parcel. Very emotional.

It is a true story. I recently, quite by chance, met the actual woman who received the parcel. (btw if you scrolled down a paragraph to avoid the spoiler it is in this one actually.) I actually met her, the real woman. I asked her…. What was in the parcel? The answer… Loads of bedding and a tent.laundry day spares

(Six years)

(Did ‘six years’ over egg the joke?)

I hate Kinder Ninjas. It has been driving me mad. Ages trying to work out what to do with it. But I did it. I have one on my key ring and I am ready…

Is there a message in random happenings? I have just counted up, and I have been given or had bought for me 11 suitcases. Is there a message in this for me?

Random equals synchronicity. I see it in everything. I believe in it. There is always a message. Then I read Jung. He says, there is no such thing as synchronicity, yet there is great power in it.

I like that. I like that.

Then. I read an article by some psychologist. He says random events are random events. There is no meaning in them happening at the same time. By their very nature random events are random. They are not evenly spaced because then they would not be random. So, they are bound to cluster. That is their nature to randomly appear and sometimes to randomly appear all at once. That is random.

I do not like that at all.

and that Vikings Uncovered thing on the telly – they ought to rename it – Myth Busting for Idiots (that’s my mini review)horned

Is it just me, or when you go on Facebook right, there is scroll along bar of recommended friends for you – How come every one of them looks like an absolute fruit cake.

And any of them social networking sites or twenty funny pictures pages n stuff, how come all the adverts down the side are always for really weird kinky strange stuff!

[blog update – ah, I’ve just been informed the adverts on pages you visit are tailored specially to you and relate to your search interests]

That Alan Sugar (I think it was him, but it might have been some other guy), anyway them queues in the garage – btw when I say garage I mean the shop where you go to pay for your petrol and buy stuff like flowers cos you forgot to get someone a present (see below).

You are in the queue right and the adverts are put on just for you, that guy, or maybe someone else I forget, right, made millions out of it, well a bit anyway. All they did was, went to a software company and said invent this please. There is a camera looking at you and it is linked to face recognition software. And it assesses the people lined up and determines their age, gender and stuff. Then it works out the majority profile and puts ads up about things they like. Loads of old ladies in the queue? = Ads for denture baths and elasticated hosiery. That sort of thing.

When I was in the queue the ads were all sorts of weird strange things!?

Norwegians (in my opinion) don’t learn English, they learn American English. So a garage is a gas station or a petrol station. Stuff like that. There’s loads more but I will grumble about it in another blog. No. Wait. I am getting radged now. Candy. Candy!!!!! It’s sweets.

Aeroplanes. They can’t have very good engines on these things if they have to put you in the dark by turning off all the lights before they can take off.

Ads for dating sites. They are always on saying our site will get you the right person you don’t want to be going on those ones that just ask about a couple of things about you.

What if I wanted to go out with a camel!

Thought: The chaos of the universe is mine and I should just do what I do. Accept my faults and failings and live. Lord knows there is love and acceptance there for me. I am damaged goods. Sometimes I forget the happiness, the sharing, the affection others bring. Thank you to all those who see the brilliance shine. I might just have a light in me.

Somewhere.

Shopping online with a friend is faster and easier or so I read – I don’t understand how the world works any more I don’t.

Buses. When you leave the stop before yours, press the bell. Then the driver knows she has to stop at the next stop in plenty of time. Do not sit there with your finger on the bell looking out all anxious and press it just as you get to the next stop. Don’t do that.

Don’t talk to people either. They don’t want to know. Woman in front of me the other day, she looks at the (slightly large) woman across from her who has a pushchair and says, ‘It that your granddaughter?’ No. It wasn’t. The poor woman looks round and says, ’It’s mine.’ All choked up she was. She actually got off a few stops early and walked so she could have a cry. As she got off the bus the woman in front of me says, ‘Nice talking to you’. No it wasn’t.

And another thing, that democracy. It is all well and good having democracy but the trouble is, there are some horrible people out there. How come they get included in the right to vote!!! It just doesn’t seem fair to me.

Junk mail goes in a folder marked junk mail, but some junk mail goes in your inbox marked junk. It’s like that advert where some people are allowed in the park and others aren’t. Junk! Why does it do it! Does it forget its own rules sometimes? Or does it think, oooops I’ve put that in the inbox and now I’ve decided it is junk, better mark it quick so I don’t look daft? Does it think?

And I will tell you another thing

[You have exceeded your space allowance for this month, please try again in a few weeks]

Part I

We must never join in my friend. We must be what we are and do what we do. We must never join in my friend. It takes so long. No one notices what we do, but we are in on the zeitgeist, we are the past and the future and often not quite the moment, we are what we are and believe; we must never crumble my friend. Nothing is ever the end. Except the end. And that is a temporal thing beyond this existence. Try stepping into how other people live. No. this is not us. This is not us my friend. We live in dream. Only dreams. Only dreams of what we can say. Of what we can do. Of what we can make be. And we sing brother. Oh my god how we sing. Let your visions be. Let your software searches be a thing of the long long moment. Watch those blue bars pass. Edit the moment again and again and again. Dive into excitement. Dive into possibility. Be. Just be. Because you are just perfect as you are. And we are in this totally crazy forever forever moment forever. Never doubt. Who out there is the same? Who of the people we meet could be us. Never doubt. Be. Never doubt; be. Because. Because of a thousand things you hold in your heart. All of it is bursting out and will be seen. Will be experienced, in the heart of others, it will, it will. My crazy friend. My crazy friend.  My friend.

Never doubt.

gra

I wrote the above after I realised I had joined the world of editors, sitting in a little corner watching blue bars go by. I once told Gramey that everyone has a destiny in life and a purpose and that his main quality was an ability to watch blue bars go across the screen. He reacted as if I had placed a curse on him! Now I watch them. We are in fact The Blue Bar Boys. Not that they are always blue of course. I have been watching the black line one on my editing software a lot lately. One observes stuff which seem so of interest at the time. IE It takes longer for the bar to go from 99% to 100% than it does to get from 1 to 99 altogether. And the first 45% goes by in a flash. I don’t suppose there is any use for this information but it seems important when you are watching it.

Does watching the bar go by help at all? I feel like I am helping it along when I sit there. Sit there staring. Then when it clicks through to completed and I can at last start work again, what do I I do? Get up and go and make a coffee. Why on earth didn’t I do that when I was sat doing nothing!

What I endure is nothing to the time Gramey feels he loses. I felt he might need a reminder that there are usually beautiful outcomes to all his hard work.

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As I approach a thousand views I thought it would be a useful idea to do a blog summary

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As I approach a thousand views I thought it would be a useful idea to do a blog summary, so you can browse through the blogs so far. Catch up and enjoy…

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The Nosegay Blog

plague doc 01 close up
The many interesting things told to me while I was working at Barley Hall.

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The Nosegay Blog Too
The nosegay experience continues, and as promised in the first instalment, we will be visiting alternative realities, plus jumping hoops and drinking mud (participation is optional)storyteller-4 accusing

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No Title
A haiku which perhaps isn’t a haiku

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Poem: For someone close
Intended to inspire, encourage and praise; perhaps it will affect you too?

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There are such things as elves
Exciting news featurecosta-rica-national-parks-rio-celeste-waterfall-1024x652

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Poem – For a friend and realisation

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Recipe blog – The Courgette Bake Recipe
By popular demand

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New Viking Heaven uncovered
shipBig news! (and I’ve discovered three more since.)

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Gudvangen Opening 2015
A very proud moment in my life.opening 2015
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Be Our Statesmen
A plea for a peaceful Politian

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Pancreatic Blog – a travelogue reblog
Quite comical if you like to read about me panicking.

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Memory of Otternesimage
A truly wonderful experience

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A Glimpse (poetry)

image
Reaching out to my own heart in art and poem

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Introducing Farmer (Adrian) Giles
I think this might be my fave.image
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Will Not Do (The World)
You have been warned; I plan to move out
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Sparkling Words: A call for artists, a call for artistes and for Vikings plus recipe tips what more could you want? Oh yes, and free books.

me ot
No no no this is my favourite!
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And it was dance
An inspiring memory (actually I was listened to at The Cavern as a result)

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So I Can Read Minds

cb 04
All about my secret powers!!!!!

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The Dress
dress image
Thought it was time I added a short story for a change.
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Squash in a Recipe Adrian, Add a Dash of Mystery, then Feed Vikingsharl side label
Yes it is a mystery.
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Salt Rant

Perhaps this counts as part of my recipe series, perhaps.

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chloe back
This is not a Blog – it is a practice – and a call for artists too
Gosh this one is exciting and it is my most recent blog. Oh no. This is my most recent blog.

Squash in a Recipe Adrian, Add a Dash of Mystery, then Feed Vikings

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At Last; The Marrow Mystery Revealed

This is one:-
a marrow
So let me guide you through a marrow recipe. I used this:-
harl side label
It isn’t a marrow.
I couldn’t find one anywhere. I had promised myself I would take one with me to Norway as a surprise.
There wasn’t one left in the whole of the allotments.
mum picmum
There was a marrow plant still growing there.
tendrils
And I knew of one marrow plant in Norway. One. Just one. Big statement coming; the only marrow plant in the whole of Norway. Here I was, on my way over to visit it.
me marrow
I am rushing ahead here however, because nobody knows what a marrow is or what to do with it. These two facts become true when you put them together. Well, not many know what to do with a marrow – the vegetable which has the potential to be the food of the gods – stay with me to find out how.
People might stuff one, but that is about it.
stuffed
No one in Norway has heard of a marrow – extensive searches have been done by chief amateur researcher Tove.
tove with header
Following the success of my recipe she just had to have some at home, but no. Norwegians (and possibly those of other nations) aren’t even that good at knowing what a squash is.
cdn.hgtvgardens.com
(I stole this pic)
There are squashes everywhere, (over here).
yellow squashpump
Squash is the generic name for these type of things, but if you ask for a courgette in Norway you get two in a bag labelled ‘Squash’. No. That’s not true, you would have to point, ‘There, those!’ ‘Those are them.’
‘Ah Squash!’
So, no butternut, no harlequin, no patty pan, barely a pumpkin and nary a marrow.

The wonder of the marrow must be introduced to the world! I took some seeds over, with detailed instructions on how to grow such a delicate plant; start early in a warm protected place, plant a few at a time, so you aren’t putting them all out at the same time, and wait till they are robust before they have to brave the elements.
But no, they all got planted at once.
tendrills
Rule number one – only ever leave them outside after the last chance of frost, (in Bergen that’s around early July, just before the rainy season properly kicks in). Out they went. A post frost plant is a sorry sorry sight.

deleted

There was one seed left.
seed by tove
I popped it covertly in a pot, (in a tub with the pepper root which is a plant which requires a future expose in Britain), it quietly secretly grew.

Now is the time to roll in the big cameras and for the lights to flash – “Here, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the only marrow plant in the whole of Norway…”marrow

As much excitement as there was about this blooming monster plant I had a private worry. As the only one there it wouldn’t be pollinated. I had another secret, an illicit import. Two flowers donated by an allotmenter in a disposable coffee cup. Ooooo the excitement – I unpacked; I unpacked a cup fill of slop, brown slop. We fed it to the Bergenesque flower by droplet.
slop

dying

Despite the hope there might be a miracle and it stays sunny right through October most of our hopes are for the future.

drying

The plan is to plant them in stages and introduce them to the veranda gradually. The home plan.
The rest of the plan is to fill the whole of Norway with big beautiful marrows.

norway

We shall start with two magical places. Organic seeds will be donated to Otternes Farm and to organic garden centre Sogn Jord – og Hagebruksskule (www.sjh.no).

So.
Let’s get cooking.
I have two recipes for you. The glorious (afore mentioned food of the gods) marrow pancakes. Plus my famed dish from Gudvangen Viking Valley, and from even further back in time, Neolithic Cave Bread.

viking broth

Pancakes – Start with your squash – I couldn’t get a marrow.

marrow kiss 01

So I got a harlequin squash.

harliquin squash top

I said I got a harlequin squash.

harliquin

Yes, I said I got a harlequin.

harliquin squash bottom

I chopped it.

harliquin squash half

I saved the seeds.

haliquin squash seeds

Right: Littleish lumps, (the ones in the frying pan picture below are a touch too big), drop them in boiling (possibly salted) water. Make sure they are well cooked.
Drain well.

harliquin squash cooked

No, really well.

kitchen roll

(That pic is actually marrow btw)
Now make the batter.
Here is the gung-ho method…

seive to bowl

[Again this is actually marrow and just the right size btw btw]
Big bowl, bit of salt, bit of pepper, chuck in flour (my mum says self-raising flour is lighter but I say it is for wimps), bang in a bit more, a couple of eggs and a tiny bit of baking powder if you have it.
Mix with a splosh of water (mum says some people add a bit of milk too). It needs to be thick, creamy and able to run.

Alright, you want to add finely chopped onion? Well, OK, but not very much…

m2

Right have you got your pan hot yet!
Just a little oil, well swirled.
Mix the cooked marrow with the batter and drop in small amounts. Remember to turn them!

harliquin squash pancakes cooking

Stop, you have cooked them at the wrong time. They are not a meal. They are a surprise. Sneak off, cook a batch. Pop them on little plates. Now then I strongly recommend; heavy on the salt.
No, a bit more than that.
Go through and stick a plate on each lap. They will look horrified.
Leave immediately!
Get in that kitchen and cook another batch.
Be assured, they will want them.
And more.
And will come back for even more.

Postcard-1

Now.
We go hurtling back in time – for – Neolithic Cave Bread.
Here are ones I made at home (in Bergen).

tove cave cakes

Really they should be done on an open fire. On a hot stone or slate.
Whenever I start cooking them in Gudvangen I am dishing them up all night.

Once you have learnt farming techniques, harvested grain and milled it, (here’s my attempt), you will want to make this.
(or just pop to a shop)

Here’s the secret – Bang it all in; veg, berries, meats, dairy products and an ostrich egg.
Here is the Bergen kitchen version.

This is some of what I used.
(It would be better with Elk and Fenalår.)

cave bread bits 02

Chop that veg n stuff (and any cooked meat).

cave bread bits

Simmer the bacon and garlic in bits.

garlic and bacon

Mix the lot.

cave bread filling

Get it in your batter (this time feel free to be heavy on the eggs and cream and experiment with flour types).

cave bread batter

Serve.
(At Gudvangen I used 44 different ingredients and people at around twenty tents tried a bit)

fire

(Not sure who took this pic btw)
But before you go rushing off to cook by a cave…

This is a marrow.

-marrow

And this is the food of the Gods.

marrow fry

cooked
Remember that salt!

See also my other food related blogs – onetwo

For for chat and interest – Sparkling Words

(read the blog from the very beginning)

The Nosegay Blog

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The Nosegay Blog

We are safe here at Barley Hall, my nosegays will stop you turning purple, and my visitors will keep me informed. Fore-armed is fore-warned and I sought to defend my position with knowledge. There was little need, for every visitor had something to impart. lyndsey and bruniYes I did have plenty to say at the start of my summer holiday stint but this was nothing to the array of facts and anecdotes. Soon I was passing along the wisdom of one to another and I will gather here some of the best of this.wizard

Some of my newly gained knowledge is debatable; this does not mean it is necessarily untrue, just that there will be debate. The very room I am in has become a convoluted topic. Refer to the notice boards for what is perhaps the definitive answer even though many in the discussion would disagree. Even the name, “No, it is not a parlour” – A solar; sit in there in the sunlight and treat this place as a retreat. A place to craft for joy, a place to make all which is beautiful: here you can write and some say learn.

jewelsA few have disagreed that the parlour was a place to receive visitors. Although another interjected that one visitor would be invited in here among the family; the tutor – here we would learn our letters and our lessons. Rhetoric, logic and astronomy are among the topics which would be enabled by this. nasaBut nay, this was not the reception say many who contributed to this on-going discussion. The way in was the proving point if this camp of thought. You entered via the stairs; from there you would be in Lord Snawsell’s bed chamber. Here in, it has been read, was his office and softer furnishings.

candle
Me at Murton Park Viking Village, York (Photo by Andraea)

So therefore this is where he would meet with you. The logic of this is in the access and the fact you would feel you had been welcomed whilst at the same time you would be aware that by being in his realm he retained power. There is logic in the aspect of access too it is argued; from there to get to the parlour one would have to go through Lady Joan’s personal chambers and then get in the way of the busy journeyman all down the long hall. Not cb 03everything I hear, as I say, is definitely right and some things I hear are definitely wrong.

Barley Hall is loved, many revisit, many discuss, many compliment and recommend, but not all feel this way it seems. A passing hen party definitely didn’t like the look. As I was returning from a visit to DIG my way into the alley was blocked. I stood back to allow the party-wear ladies to leave the alley and they stopped suddenly. Looking up the street, “Oh we’ve been this way” – “We’ve been here before” – “We’ve been up there” – “We’ve been up there” – “We don’t want to go that way again” – “We’ve been this way”. Eventually they turned back and I had a path ahead of me, a slow path.

Barley-Hall window view
The view in the window (minus the peacock)

As they noticed the large window into the hall for the first time there were sounds of disapproval from one of these revellers. “Oh dear, I wouldn’t want to go in there” – “And I wouldn’t want to eat that” – “No, it looks awful in there” – “Ancient!” – “It’s like a museum”

Although most people are entranced by the peacock upon the table, the hen party in search of a meal and another drink were not the only ones to not fancy eating a bird which had been cooked and then repacked in its raw skin. “Never do that” visitors inform me, “Never mix cooked and raw”. “They certainly hadn’t heard of health and safety!”

Nosegays keep us safe, or at least perfumed. Gay meaning ornament back in the day; they were about the smell. Many report on the vast amounts of information on the medicinal, spiritual and nutritional uses of herbs; that is not a major concern when it comes to nasal orientated ornaments. It is all about the smell, the logic I am instructed, is that if the smell carried the disease you didn’t want it up your nose. The miasma must be refused access and to follow logic, if your nose was full of sweet smells then how could the horrid miasma get in! So visitors tell me it was not just about masking the smell, it was about keeping you safe.

If you wanted to be really safe, what better than a plague doctor mask. Fill that with herbs and strap it on. While you were feeling ultra-safe as a result of this constant experience of the sweet and beautiful you might want to go all out and get yourself a job.

plague doc 01 close up
thats me that is

Plague doctors are in demand it seems. An explanation of this which was given to me was that all the doctors were gone – in one way or another. It was a well-paid job I am told – while it lasted.

Not much in the way of skills was needed, according to some, all you needed was a stick, a big stick. With your mask on off you go, and prod people. Then all you had to do was tell them whether they are going to live or die (if in doubt go for the die option). The strange thing is, whatever the answer, they would thank you. I considered these offerings and discussed with other visitors. It is not so strange when you think, as I was asked to do, on the history of medicine. Throughout Europe ‘knowing’ was often more important than helping. ‘How long will they be?’ – ‘Will it be quick?’ – ‘Have you anything to make it easier?’ Another suggested this was still the main focus in many tribal cultures around the world.

pegs 01
These ‘sticks’ are actually hand-made tent pegs found in the woodpile at Gudvangen, (Photo by Tove Gulbrandsen), put you could prod with them

I decided there and then, that once all my visitors had made a nosegay I was off to get a stick; the income would be most welcome – while it lasted.As not everyone wants a nosegay I will be here a while yet. Not that they are to be sniffed at, if you see what I mean. Much a sniffing and a pondering has there been.

me quirky
Thats me sniffing that is, honest

Deciding of what aroma, of what herb one is holding a bowl of. Lavender is spotted by most, thyme only by a few and lemon balm by only one chap. Rosemary is spotted on sight by most, although one or two, including a rosemary grower, thought it was pine. The one which is most evocative is actually a flower rather than a herb as such. Some love it, most are reminded, reminded of something. A Greek flower which is gathered as a healing tea, camomile, just flowers, childhood memories, the bottom cupboard next to the pans; we were taken places. I was put off this bowl for quite a while when a girl said it smelt of hamster bedding. This smell was removed for me a little later by the power of suggestion; a lady said it made her think of her grandfather’s pipe tobacco. Now, whenever I hold the marigold bowlMarigold_AAS_1989_Golden_Gate in front of me I am transported back to my childhood and the hint of sweetness within a heady aroma which would erupt into the room when granddad opened his pouch to stock up his pipe with baccie.

So far there are no reports of the plague coming to me from my visitors. No one has been spotted to be turning purple, well except for Mr Purple himself, but he is upon his bicycle platform out of the way anyway. bike theif 08 14The next edition will feature live frogs, alternative universes and elephants tusks among many other oddities of conversation. Remember when recalling this blog so far, it is all absolutely true – that people have told me these things.

Your tales and opinions can be added into the mix for discussion too. Be in touch.

Adrian

 

Here is the link to the exciting second half…. Nosegay Blog Too

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