Cyber Seance 6

[Moonwatcher]

Cyber Seance. 13 Feb 2005

G'day.

Ah'm sittin here wae mah wide brimmed hat oan – complete wae annoyin coarks danglin fae it, a perra khaki shoarts, a can a Foster's four-ex in wan haun, an inflatable crocodile in eh ither, an a copy eh the 'Lonely Planet guide tae the Australian ootback' oan mah lap.

'Aul Moonwatcher's bin watchin 'The Croc Hunter' oan eh TV again.' ah hear yiz sayin. Well no quite, although ah hiv tae admit tae takin a wee shine tae aht Mrs Irwin ah must admit – bit dont tell eh wife ah said aht! Naw, eh reason furr eh Aussie gear is thit ah'm psychin massell up furr a wee bit a 'doon unner' research. So ah've tied me kangaroo doon, mah wallabees hiv been let loose, an ah'm rerrin tae go. Ah stull cannae get music oot this ouija board though – how diz Rolf manage that?

It's aw because eh the wife's side eh the 'business'. Ye see, her great granny wiz a Romanis. When ah furst come acroass aht name aht thoat she wiz descendit fae gypsies – aht wid've explaint a loat ah kin tell ye! But it turns oot the Romanis faimly wurr a large faimly a timber merchants in eh Scoatish Boarders, doon in Eckford. They owned a big sawmill ther – the Kalemouth Sawmill (ah must get doon aht neck eh the woods some time an see if thers anyhin left eh it; mibby pick up some kindlin). Anywae, urr great grannie's brother, great uncle Archibald, hid a doatir thit up an left furr Aussieland in eh 1920s; merrit a bloke ower ther thit she hid met in WW1. Nae sooner wiz Jane an urr new man safely ensconsed in eh land eh the koala, thin urrr mother deciditt tae jine thim (jist eez luck eh!), an broaght eh rest eh the weans wae urr. Archibald furr some reason didnae go; yeez'll nae doot draw yer ain conclusions fae aht, but mibbay thir jist wiznae enough widd in Australia furr im, ah dunno, but 'Erchie' stied pitt in Eckford. An aht's whit ah'm aboot. Ah've researched the faimly iss side eh the watter, and noo ah'm tryin tae find oot where Jane landit, how she goat ther and whit thae wurr aw daein ower/doon ther. Jane urrsell wiz quite a character bae all accoonts (ah've hid a wee bit a correspondence wae an Aussie descendant of hers who actually met her; turns oot eez eh wife's third cousin!). Jane apparently lived tae a hunner an wan! She died jist afore ah stertit this faimly histry lark. S'amazin wher this gemme takes ye isn't it?

Haud oan, mah four-ex's flat, an mah croc's gaun saft. Better blaw it up an get a fresh can.

Well, eh Board seems tae bae gaun fae strength tae strength. Eh format's takin shape (ah like eh logo bae the wae). Ah see wiv even goat a brochure noo – very posh. Nummers continue tae creep up – numerically, an eh regulars continue tae post – regularly. Wiv hid wirr furst foray doon eh aul censorship road, hmm, an en errs eh Gallery – loat a work gaun oan ther, an ah hink wurr aw lookin furrit tae seein how that pans oot. So evryhin seems tae bae gaun okay wae eh fledglin TS Board.

Wan question.

Whit's in eh bag? Eh wan eh wummin's kerryin in eh logo. Ah'll wait ah couple a seconds while yeez aw scroll tae the tap eh the page tae hiv a gander.

'Oh aye, eez right enough, aht wummin's kerryin a bag.'

Right, believe meh noo? So whit's in it? It's no wan eh yer plastic Tesco joabs aht's furr sure. Merr lik wan eh thae american broon paper types thit get wet in eh rain, gets aw soggy, an en eh erse faws oot it, scetterin aw yer tins ah baked beans, tatties, kertins ah mulk and stuff, aw ower eh car park. Aht's why we dont use that type a bag in Scoatlin – too bliddy wet! It's aw right furr yooz guys in dry climes, sun beatin doon oan ye aw the time. Thir tryin tae dae away the traditional plastic kerrier bag in eh UK in favour eh thae enviromentally-friendly paper things – nae bliddy wae, ah say! Stuff the environmentalists! Global warming? – nae sign eh that here ah kin tell yiz!

Here, aht four-ex iz stroang stuff! Wher wiz ah afore a stertit mah rant? Oh aye, the contents eh the bag. Right, a wee competition. Oor three intrepid settlers, hiv jist landitt thir pointy feet on eh green sand eh a foreign shore. Faither an eh wee yin are dyin tae fine oot the name eh the local team and wher the pitch is. Meanwhile, Maw is hinkin, 'Wher's eh kitchen tae ah make evrybiddy a nice meal.' Eh two natives oan eh ither haun urr hinkin – 'Whit's in eh bag,' an ' If it rains wurr gonnae fine oot.'

So ther ye hiv it – the 'Whit's in eh Bag Competition?' Whit dae think lies within the mysterious paper bag? Whit wid you pit in it? Post yer suggestions here – bit keep it clean, urr at least clean-ish. Eh winner'll get a free night oot wae Moonwatcher at that Glesca haven of modest charm – the Sarry Heid; unless it's wan eh the blokes, in which case wu'll no boather. Mah decision's final, especially if Mrs Irwin enters. Uh-oh here comes eh wife!

Seeya!

Bob.

[AndrewP]

(message to make the Cyber Seance posts appear in sequence)