me, myself and the unfolding enigma of being

what rhymes with scissors?

2012-01-18T23:02:00.000Z

My hair once short
Is now quite long
It falls and moves
To the wind song
My hair once straight
Now waves and curls
I hate to say it
Like a girls
My hair is falling
In my eyes
It looks quite good
To my surprise
I think perhaps
It’s time to see
The woman who
Cuts hair for me
She’ll take one look
And purse her mouth
And say ‘hey girl’
Your hair’s moved south
It’s grown so long
You’ll have to pay
My work’s cut out
For me today
And then she’ll grab
Her scissors tight
And snip and cut
Until it’s right
My hair once more
Will stay in place
With no more curls
Around my face
No more wispy
No more long
No more dancing
To wind’s song
Short and straight
And all in place
Of the girly
No more trace

Copyright © 2012 by Eryll Oellermann

weather overwhelmed

2012-01-17T23:03:00.000Z

wtf?
there is a daffodil flowering in the garden!
daffodils are the harbinger of spring, last i heard, spring finds her way to scotland in april/may.
january and february ... well, the weather is still nasty. not really the time for lady daff to be weaving and bobbing her graceful bloom in the great scottish open air.

has mother nature changed her mind? has she taken pity on us poor weather overwhelmed scots and sent us an early spring to make up for the completely AWOL summer she indulged us with in 2011?

whatever! i won't complain if spring arrives a couple of months before due date.

Pesti si aschii

2012-01-07T00:30:00.001Z

which, in case you are wondering, means ... fish and chips.
in romanian of course!

this evening the animal doctor brought her romanian friend over for a fish supper at my place. her very attractive and charming romanian friend, i might add.
we had a perfectly delightful time despite the fact that none of us speak the same language.

hah! you were under the impression that the scots speak english?
no, no, no!

last weekend in a moment of new year weakness i agreed to play scrabble with the animal doctor. silly me!

there we are, playing scrabble in english, or so i thought.
the good doctor slaps down the word 'lum', well ... i'm sorry! i am a really well brought up and polite south african, but, the hell i am about to let her get away with that!

i arch a questioning eyebrow, me, i always try for subtle to begin with.
clear grey eyes meet mine, innocence personified... oy.
me, soft and gentle ... "lum is not a word."
animal doctor ... "of course it is!"
i reach for the oxford english dictionary.
the ultimate insult!

feck me! lum is indeed a word ...

lum [lʌm]
n
(Fine Arts & Visual Arts / Architecture) Scot a chimney
[of obscure origin]

huh!!

the next day whilst enjoying a delicious, day after new year meal with the middle child and family, i think to shock him with the animal doctor's infamous treatment of the scrabble board.
says i ... "lum, who ever heard of lum?"

well of course mom ... "lum, as in" ...
"Lang may yer lum reek!"

for those of you who have never ventured north of hadrian's wall.
that would translate to ... "A salutation wishing long life and prosperity. Literally, long may your chimney smoke."

middle child is smart, much like his father, a right know it all. in fact all my children are way too smart, much like their father!
they know the words to every song they ever listened to, they can act out entire film scripts - their all time favourite being ... "thoroughly modern millie." they appear to have the ability to remember every damn thing they read or hear.
i won't even bother to ask the other two if they ever heard the word lum - of course they will have!

hmmm ... wonder if they (my beloved offspring) know how to say fish and chips in romanian ;-)

2012-01-06T23:07:00.000Z

hello 2012!

2012-01-03T01:57:00.000Z

day three of the new year.

time to remember that a writer is meant to write and a poet is born to spout verse and rhyme.

2011 was interesting and somewhat iffy! i made some mistakes, i learned some lessons. i loved and was loved. i disappointed some and pleased others. there were good days and bad, happy and sad days. aspirations and regrets.

i lost old friends and made new friends. i realized that sometimes there is wisdom in giving up. i came to understand that some of the past we will carry with us always. some memories shine within us bringing light and peace to our lives. other memories, we carry to remind us that we are human, frail and imperfect, these memories may not bring us joy but they are with us to remind us of mistakes we made and pain we caused others.
let me never forget the life lessons i have been offered.

in this new year ... 2012
may i learn to be a little kinder, a little stronger, more patient and understanding, slower to anger, less full of ego and self righteousness!

i hope that i will love whole heartedly and laugh loud and long with the sheer joy of life.

we exist in a series of moments, may i use my moments wisely.

dear heart

2011-11-17T22:07:00.000Z

ask me

2011-11-17T21:36:00.000Z

why don't you
ask me
who are you
who are you
open your mouth
move your lips
air in air out
drop your voice
or make it shout
ask me where
ask me why
ask me anything
i can deny
ask who i am
and who i'm not
i used to be
i changed a lot
i'm someone else
from somewhere new
the reason why
i don't remember you

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

the weed

2011-11-04T00:12:00.002Z

the boy was gobsmacked
well hardly a boy
looked older than my doctor
my dentist
the policeman down the road
he was probably near forty
tall and lanky
with long curly hair
portraying a wildness
disavowed by body language
which hinted more at
shyness and withdrawal

"i have never met...
a woman of your age...
who wasn't a nun...
who has never tried pot"

i am out of africa
we call the weed dagga
it grows everywhere
true...
i was a child of the sixties
grew up with hippies vietnam
manfred mann and
the beatles
perhaps i was too well trained
my mother a fearsome woman
found alchohol an abomination
if i felt the need to rebel
i would skip the passionfruit
and lemonade
with temporary sophistication
order port and lemon
most daring
until another informed me
that prostitutes drank
port and lemon

i smoked and hoped
that teeth brushed
with a liberal dash
of colgate
before saying goodnight
would conceal my nicotine habit
forever

dancing and late nights
cigarettes and baby cham
i considered myself a wild
somewhat wicked woman
no need for drug enduced extras
at fifty six i made a friend
who smoked pot
i was amazed and truth to tell
somewhat shocked
not the sort of pastime i would expect
in a grandmother
somewhat innocent you might think
not for long
determined to make up for my former
lack of drug experience
i requested a drag

"forget it...
no way am i ...
corrupting you"

unlikely story more like
no wish to waste good weed
on a novice who will probably
feel nothing but nausea
and ruin
an otherwise excellent evening
i was left to smoke my cigarettes
in a room heavyladen
with the smell of burning dope
watch my friend disappear
down the yellow brick road
of harshly inhaled pot

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

in the poet

2011-11-02T15:33:00.001Z

in the poet lies a passion
which knows not how to die
love nurtures it forever
although she said goodbye

the rising of the full moon
against a star filled sky
bring memories of love, long lost
which make the poet cry

so would you be a poet
would you desire such pain
if in the heart of misery
you found your voice again

would you cherish now the words
as they tumbled in your brain
or would you curse the poet gods
"release me from my pain"

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

2011-11-01T14:11:00.001Z

today is here

2011-10-29T08:43:00.000+01:00

Today is here

that's all that matters

my heart is beating

I can feel the patters

there's air to breath

and clothes to wear

it's raining again

but I won't be bare

i've shoes for walking

and food to eat

my roof doesn't leak

so my life's complete

tonight i'm off

to a halloween party

where the company's great

and the drinks will be hearty

so I say to myself

what more could I ask

but loads of hot water

and a long deep bath

I have that too

so what can I say

i'm up and ready

to face the day

life is good

if you don't search for pain

one of these days

i'll be happy again

done bitchin'

2011-10-28T11:45:00.000+01:00

woke up this morning to one of scotland's spectacularly beautiful days. the air clean washed ... what did you think all the damned rain was for?

i am more than confident in recommending scottish air, must be the cleanest around, except for, maybe ireland?

i am housesitting in dailly for a couple of days. dailly is a small village in south ayrshire, it sits, surrounded by rolling green hills, in the middle of nowhere. around noon the old men of the village gather at the bridge and spend their hours whiling away the the time by chatting and gazing at the flow of the river.

waking up to sunshine i decided to take a walk up to 'the co-op'. dailly has only two shops, the co-op and a corner cafe. of course there is also the pub/inn and i do believe that there is a wee tea room where one may partake of tea and scones.
village life - each and every person i met greeted me with a smile and a friendly comment. i had almost forgotten, troon where i live is only a small town but some what more sophisticated.

a litre of milk and a pack of cigarettes, i had not smoked for the month i was in the states but, what the hell, who wants to live forever!
besides it is my firm intention to 'give up' women in the romantic, passionate, lesbian drama filled meaning of the phrase. "do no harm" is one of my firmest convictions. i seem to have developed an unfortunate habit of falling in and out of love in the manner of a reckless teenager thus causing endless heartache and anxt to the objects of my affection. enough already, i will preserve my undeniable wolfish charms for friends and blood relatives.

sunshine, cigarettes and the desire to write, what more could the wolf/poet ask for.

i feel like bitchin'

2011-10-27T20:09:00.000+01:00

i mean ... whoah! how come no one warned me about arthritis in the feet?

in my thirties i started to get arthritis in my hands, red swollen joints, painful as hell. did i complain - no sir - runs in my family, can't argue with your genetic inheritance. you learn to deal with it and one day it stops hurting and one is left with crooked, knobbly fingers. no big deal really, after all, i don't walk on my hands.

but the feet? ouch! about four years ago, in the summer, my feet became really painful, walking was a chore. so off to the nhs for relief. hah bloody hah! very nice doctor has me take off my shoes and socks and examines my feet.
"hmmm probably arthritis, no sign of damage as yet., i'll give you a scrip for ibuprofen, that should help."

okaaaay ...
how come nobody remembers that my gut really does not care for ibuprofen, in fact my body in general does not really care for ibuprofen. but, if that's all they have for me ...
the pain wore off, i forgot about my sore feet and went cheerfully about my life. my feet skipped the next summer, no problems. year three and it is back, bearable though.

year four, this year - ouch. the pain is constant, the more i walk, the worse it becomes - oy! and i'm walking a lot. as we all know only too well, my car has given up the ghost. once more i take myself down to visit my gp. he looks at my feet, doesn't touch them, guess that might be asking a bit much!
"well, it's arthritis, see how your foot is twisting?"
i look down at my feet, nope, not actually, looks super duper fine to me. it just hurts like hell.
"anything you can do doc?" ...
after all, hips, knees and who the hell knows what else, are all replaceable.
the doc frowns, i can smell the anaesthetic already, i see the get well soon bouquets, my children gathered around my hospital bed. how do they manage to look at me both with concern and admiration?
the doc unpurses his lips, shakes his head ...
"no, nothing can be done, i'll write you a scrip for ibuprofen."
no really! that is what he said.

so i feel like bitchin' !

another day, another way

2011-10-26T21:45:00.000+01:00

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

From Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:

the pain of today

2011-10-23T23:12:00.001+01:00

if life is for learning
where lies the lesson
do we truly search for the point of truth
will our eyes seek a far horizon
for questions without answers
why must we chose between
the powerful touch of a man
the tender touch of a woman
we are born innocent and lacking guile
we believe happiness to be our right
will we ever learn
how to deal with a heart
which won't give up hope
wondering why some loves
hold us so tight
that we can hardly breathe
why we allow ourselves to stay
when we have the wisdom
but not the courage
to walk away from the dark
why the ties of an undying love
long since betrayed and betraying
hold us still with the rough passion
of a relentless undertow
tumbling us gasping and helpless
as if at peace in our lack of power
is there a fascination to be found
in the inevitability of failure
is there strength to be found in loss
do we fear tomorrow's joy
more than the pain of today

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

home again ...

2011-10-23T22:57:00.000+01:00

my mind still trapped in smoky mountain time. my sleep patterns obeying the rules of another time and place.home from the unfolding mountains, disappearing into the haze of distance,the forest clothed in a burning fire of autumn colour. home from the cabin which smelled of the fresh sawn logs from which it was built. home from the night skies of a million stars and the gentle sounds of the night woods.home from the place where i stood and cried at the wonder, the unconscious beauty of our natural world.home from the sunshine, the clear skies, the heat, the soft southern drawl.so much beauty to discover and yet ...how wonderful to be home.home with words to write and thoughts to share...

smoky mountain sojourn

2011-09-16T23:07:00.000+01:00

in five days time i will flee scotland's rather grim weather and head for the good old US of A. it's been a while and this time around i am not heading for new york but for new jersey. a quick stopover and then into the car and off ...
look out smoky mountains here i come!

i do sometimes wonder about little old me, born in estcourt in the foothills of the drakensberg. how the hell did i get where i am today?
life is strange, life is wonderful and for those of us willing to fly a little close to the sun ...
well, life loves to surprise us.

this time of the year is always somewhat sad for me. too many memories of love and loss. come september i find myself feeling down, wonder why and then remember why. it is my time of the sad. at first my conscious mind is unaware, it has been a long time - nine years. but the ache still waits, locked deep inside, almost forgotten until memory stirs and i find that i can still forget to breath.

the invite to visit my 'angel of the morning' came at just the right time. she is a wonderfully charming and intelligent women, most capable of offering the distraction and interaction necessary to lift my spirits.

the last time i visited with angel she was dead set on encouraging me 'not to smoke'. her solution - every time i fancied a cigarette i would first have to eat three cranberries (as in cranberry au naturelle), straight from the bush or wherever it is that cranberries grow. angel sounded (dare i say it) almost gleeful when she mentioned buying a barrel of cranberries to assist me in overcoming my addiction. not a chance! i fly with a suitcase filled with nicotine patches!

no need to wonder if i am somewhat silent over the next month. the reef will be sans internet, happily wandering mountain trails, scaring the bears and listening for the sound of wolves howling for the moon.

"who killed my orchids?"

2011-09-14T16:12:00.000+01:00

i watered the orchids! oh sheit was i supposed to water the orchids? she said "please water the plants", so i did, well... orchids are plants too are they not?
it's just that the animal doc is like a fundi of flowering orchids. is your orchid sitting there sulking, not a blossom in sight? no problem, send it to board with the animal doctor. before you know it - buds bursting out all over the place.

the reason for my concern is ... darn but if i am not terribly talented at causing travail amongst pot plants, the responsibility is killing me. still i can hardly cause mass root rot in a week, now can i?
as you might have guessed i am house sitting - for the animal doctor while she sashays around romania, visiting dracula's castle, eating wonderful romanian food and for all i know whispering with wolves. i should have gone with but ... oh no, so here i am taking care of a huge empty house, two enormous hounds, one very chubby turkish swimming cat (to whom i am allergic!) and hundreds of pots plants. well, it feels like hundreds!

however ...
i do get to drive the animal doctor's super duper, shiny, new volvo estate, with ... wait for it ...
six forward gears. oy what a dream!

ask me

2011-09-12T23:41:00.000+01:00

i still believe in magic
if you should wish to know
i dream dreams of the future
of shoe prints in the snow

i see more than the imprint
of just my lonely shoe
i still believe that someday
her print will be there too

remember spring and when it comes
the signs of life renewed
i dream anew the dreams of old
of love to be pursued

i dream of lonely beaches
of walking hand in hand
of blue sky and warm sunshine
and endless golden sand

i think of autumn colours
leaf shaped which swirl and fall
of log fires burning in the hearth
i dream i hear her call

i still believe in magic
that life will find a way
all i need to do is wait
till true love comes to stay

so if you care to ask me
what do i still dream of
then i will answer loud and clear
why, i still dream of love

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

my journey

2011-09-07T09:53:00.000+01:00

warning!

attempting to move forwards whilst looking back is dangerous. this action often leads to errors of judgement which cause unnecessary pain to the innocent.

in my personal opinion and i speak with the authority of personal experience ...

far better to sit a while, to wait in the silence with our grief and mourn our loss. time at the cross roads of life is never wasted, time to weep and wail for all that we have left behind. a place where nobody but God will hear us as we shake our fist at the heavens and scream "not fair, not fair!"

we should not tarry in this place of regret too long, i personally find it too easy to grow attached to my own pain. in time i hope to learn that pain is not a place to frequent but a lesson to learn.

yesterday is done, we live here in the now! sooner or later we will glimpse something of beauty ahead of us on the path towards tomorrow. we will once again feel the warmth of the sun and wonder at the colours of our earth home. it is 'the time'. The time to glance backwards one last time as we say goodbye to what was. we will not forget because our memories are the garden bed in which we grow. we will not forget but we should never look back as we carry our precious life lessons into the remainder of our journey.

"Life is not the way it's supposed to be,

it's the way it is.

The way you live it,

is what makes the difference."

...unknown

waiting for the bus

2011-09-06T21:52:00.000+01:00

today i was waiting for the bus.

the first time i remember catching a bus ...
i must have been six maybe seven, we were still in the uk, living in a place called oakleigh cottage in sussex. i went to school in a village called broadbridge heath and the nearest market town was horsham.
the cottage we stayed in was on a farm, there was no road to the door (not that it mattered as we did not own a car). instead there was a long, long concrete path which meandered next to a field, through a wood and on to the cottage. the cottage was in fact two, divided in half with a shared rickety stairway leading to the attic rooms. the ones to the right were ours whilst our neighbours turned left at the top of the stairs.
i remember my 'big' sister, maureen, once put her hand right through the low ceiling whilst making the bed! there was no running water, the farmer would bring water in large milk urns and deposit them in the kitchen. the kitchen had a coal stove and as far as i can recall, we practically lived there in that one room, we bathed in a tin bath in front of the stove, ate and entertained at the kitchen table.
at night we would race upstairs, trying to beat the cold and dive into our beds where icy sheets greeted us - shudder ...

i digress, back to the bus ...
if i really think about it, i must have caught a bus to school, must admit though, i can't really remember that!
what i do remember was bus trips to horsham with my mom and little brother rod, who i call joey (but that is another story altogether). i took ballet and tap lessons (oh yeah, little girl butch just dancing her way through life!), my teacher was a miss swain, the very fact that i can still recall her name probably means i had a huge crush on her. on the way to the dance studio we walked past a bakery and i can still remember inhaling the delectable smell of baking bread which drifted from the door each time it opened.
then of course there was georgina! a senior student whom i most definitely had a crush on! she seemed so grown up, i wonder how old she actually was, probably twelve ...

there was an old man who caught the bus - again ... was he really old or just old to my young eyes. he smoked a very smelly pipe! i remember looking down from the bus window and seeing him waiting at the stop, how i hoped and prayed he would not get on the bus. that smelly tobacco made me feel quite ill.

mostly though, bus trips to horsham were fun. a visit to the saturday market where mom bought me a tortoise, when we left the uk to return home to south africa we set him free. i love to imagine my long lived tortoise still wandering around the woods near oakleigh cottage, how big might he be by now. actually i wonder if tortoises are even able to survive in the wild in england? damn, never even considered that before.

another treat was to visit the local chippy in horsham, it was down an alley and had a really low roof and windows of that thick bottle glass, running with age. it smelled of frying fish, vinegar and the wet raincoats of the patrons. they still wrapped everything in newspaper (obviously long before health and safety took over the rule Britannia role!) and the taste was ... i will never forget the taste of those hot, salty chips on a foggy winter eve.

a summer treat was to pop into the small tea room on the carfax. the carfax was at the centre of horsham town and had a bandstand at it's centre ... well, as far as i remember anyway!
mom would buy us both a small bottle of seven up. lemonade of the god's as far as i was concerned. england was not long out of rationing and me, myself and my brother were very impressed by the luxuries of town life.
then, away back home on the crowded bus, filled with chattering women, wide eyed children and (mostly) silent men. jump down from the bus at our stop and walk home, along the path, beside the field and through the wood.
home to oakleigh cottage, a home in the middle of nowhere, a home which held all that my young heart treasured.

pot plants and paella

2011-09-04T22:30:00.003+01:00

funny town ... kilmarnock. me, myself, i don't mind going there - as long as someone else is driving. i tend to get lost and have a deal of trouble finding parking. it always seems to me that kilmarnock is kind of ... all over the place. once i was supposed to meet my friend jeanie there, we were going to the movies, hah, easier said than done. even my beloved lady who lives in a box and tells me how to get from here to there in a very sexy voice ... even she was lost! kept taking me back to the same dead end, over and over.

so saturday there was a global market in kilmarnock or killie as the locals call their place called home. there is also the famous (in these parts) killie pie.
"A Killie pie or Kilmarnock pie is a type of pie sold at Rugby Park, the home ground of association football team Kilmarnock F.C.. It is somewhat unique in that it is a steak pie and not a Scotch pie, the type of pie associated with football in Scotland."
thanks wikipedia!

back to kilmarnock and the global market ...
the animal doctor was happy to drive to the benighted place, so me, myself, i was delighted to accompany her.
a new experience for me.
stall after stall of, mostly edible goodies from all over the world, what a temptation!
there was all the usual market patter, beseeching you to to try and expecting you to buy, offering more for less until your hand makes for your wallet almost of it's own volition.
cheeses, olives and pesto, sweet pastries,chocolates, breads, paella, german sausage, italian sausage, cakes to tempt a saint, nuts - salted, honeyed, flavoured... ah ... the list is endless.
the weather was fair - well, it wasn't raining!
the streets were awash with humanity, enjoying the day, happy to spend. kids darted in, out and under, clasping paper bags filled with their booty, whining for more. some poor souls, pale of face with the glazed eyes of the over extended eater clutched plastic bowls which were once filled with tiny marshmallows and big juicy strawberries over which the vendor would pour great globs of melted chocolate.

of course there were not only food stalls (food is simply a particular interest of mine), there was jewellery, clothing, leather, hand made soap and paper, those wonderful wooden flower pot people and even a native american stall, complete with dream catcher and even an authentic looking native american in a feathered headdress, he was doing some really rattling dancing, i was completely entranced until i heard his scottish accent.

so we wandered, me, myself and the animal doctor, we wandered up and down, in and out, testing and tasting and on occasion throwing calorie counting caution to the four winds as we gave in to the temptation of a particularly scrumptious morsel. we cruised the stalls until our tummies were full and our feet tired, until the crowds grew too dense and the dark clouds gathered.

not such a bad place really ... kilmarnock, just don't ask me to drive there!

last night ...

2011-08-31T00:50:00.000+01:00

i dreamed that i was looking in a mirror and i could see behind my ears! no really ... wtf was that about?

today i visted my dental clinic for a scale and polished, my dental hygienist felt i was doing quite well with my brushing but she does recommend that i use those itsy bitsy brushes between my teeth ... hmmm.

long, long ago my ex told me that i was bi polar. naturally i scoffed at the very idea! however, lately i have been reading up on a lot of psychological stuff and today i reached the conclusion that she was probably correct. why today? well ... today i felt the surge, the electricity, the desire to write, sleep evades me, my mind is alight with adventure.
hypomania?
"Hypomania (literally, "below mania") is a mood state characterized by persistent and pervasive elevated (euphoric) or irritable mood, as well as thoughts and ..." thank you wikipedia...
in my case distinctly more euphoric than irritable - big wolfish smile ...

so... the question is ...
do dreams of seeing behind ones ears precede hypomania or does hypomania induce dreams of behind one's ears?

i am fine, no really i am!!

confessions of an addict

2011-08-23T13:05:00.000+01:00

well... this particular smoke free interlude lasted exactly seven days!

on the eighth day my feelings of loss and self pity became too much for me to bare.

ah well! to err is human and in all likelihood i am probably more human than anything else.

19th august 2010

2011-08-18T22:36:00.000+01:00

solitary wolf

sand, sunset and chardonnay

2011-08-17T00:18:00.000+01:00

happy birthday to the animal doctor!

we celebrated sitting on the sand dunes, watching the sun set behind the isle of arran. man, the colours that sinking sun paints across the evening sky.

the animal doctor brought a picnic blanket, two glasses and pudding, i brought a bottle of south african chardonnay (actually, rather disappointing, i must admit that of late, i have a distinct preference for the chilean whites)and we stopped off at the lucky star chippy and i bought fish suppers for two.

funny how fish and chips taste so much better when eaten in the great outdoors. of course i managed to get more than my fair share of the wine as birthday or no, the animal doctor has to drive as me, myself ... i have no car!

summer is but a vague memory in these parts and there was a distinct nip in the stiff breeze blowing off the firth.
but ... we scots are a hardy breed, not to be frightened off by a wee drop in the temperature, we watched in wonder and waited until the dark was making some inroads into the gloaming before we packed up our picnic and headed for home.

thank you for sharing your birthday with me.

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures."
-- Kahil Gibran

day two

2011-08-16T23:32:00.000+01:00

yay,i am a happy non smoker!
why do i do this to myself ... why?
the truth is i am a miserable non smoker, i love smoking!

but ...
my special lady, prudence peugeot failed her MOT with distinction. on receiving the quote from the garage man i grew even paler and decided that as an edge of the seat pensioner i would learn to live without a car.
I SORNed her, she is allowed to remain with me as long as she remains parked on the property and i don't DRIVE her anywhere!

result - my feet are Sore(please note capital S), i have a frozen shoulder and i have given up smoking ... again!
yeah, indeed, a couple of months without pandering to my addiction and i will have the funds to put my mechanical lady back on the road in good as new condition.

so ... yay i am a happy non smoker ... yeah right ;-)

the newborn

2011-08-04T17:31:00.000+01:00

there are cows and sheep
in the field across the road
five cows, one black, one black and white
one light cream, almost white
and two the colour of rich jersey cream
the sheep are a flock
adults all and vaguely disinteresting
hard to differentiate between sheep
once they are full grown
somewhere along the road to adulthood
they lose their joy in living
and with it their individuality
well, to the casual observer at least
i have watched the field for nearly two weeks
i have come to recognize the pained bellows
which signal the arrival of a new life
in the field across the road
and now we are three more, young ones
so new, so small, at rest they could be mistaken
for an anthill, except there are no anthills
in ayrshire pastures, a mole hill perhaps
staying close to mama for their first hours
they now find time to frolic and bound
the new generation, two brown, one black
the colour of calves against the green
in the field across the road

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

2011-08-02T10:37:00.000+01:00

i eat half a grapefruit for breakfast. of course i would rather indulge in a bacon sandwich or a full scottish breakfast, but, what the heck ...
we can't have everything we want!

grapefruit wise, this is the best time of the year for me because the supermarket shelf is very often stocked with south african grapefruit.
i love south african fruit, cider and wine. south african sunshine in an edible or drinkable form, delivered to my scottish table.

of course, even the simple matter of purchasing breakfast grapefruit can be elevated to an art form. after all, grape fruit have changed since the days of my youth when they were smaller, available only in yellow and really quite nasty. only the addition of lashings of sugar made them anywhere near edible!
as a native born south african i have long suspected that all the very best south african fruit was exported to foreign lands, leaving us, the sun blessed population to make do with what might possibly be described as 'seconds' i.e a tad less than perfect.
no matter, i am now a resident of those foreign climes and the south african fruit available is, quite simply put ...
well, practically perfect.

my personal favourite is the pink grapefruit, unfortunately in my supermarket the pink costs 49 pence per fruit whilst the more common marsh, a yellow fruit costs only 35 pence. that is 14 pence difference on each grapefruit. so, say i eat three a week or say 10 a month that would make a price difference of £1.40 to my breakfast spend. in a year... i would have saved £14, given that i might live to ninety whilst continuing to eat grapefruit for breakfast ... 27 x £14 equals ... damn, £378! now what might a ninety year old find to do with £378? most likely,absolutely sweet blow all!
and ... we haven't even touched on the red grapefruit ...

great goblets of glue! i need to get a life!

night sweats and other nonsense

2011-07-22T03:40:00.000+01:00

three o'clock - the small wee hours, what wakes me up?

night sweats...

nothing quite like them, waking up soaked and freezing. i wonder if they run in families? some small genetic imperfection? mine started with a vengeance in my thirties and to this day they creep up on me on the odd occassion.

i spotted the fox yesterday, sitting on the bank next to the railway line, catching the last warmth of the days sunshine. i love seeing the fox, especially in summer when the line is hidden from sight by the leaf clothed trees which grow beside it. sighting the fox under summer conditions is a perfect fluke, i have to be looking out from my kitchen window at the precise moment he/she pads past the exact spot which is not hidden from my eyes by summer's leafy, green glory.

life is a story

2011-06-12T19:47:00.000+01:00

i am a great fan of a blog called "bless our hearts" by a certain ms moon. she is a great blogger, she blogs regularly, sometimes several times a day. ms moon shares her everyday life with me, myself and her myriad readers.

i do so enjoy the beautifully written tales of her everyday existence, i have grown to know her life, just a little. moonland exists in my mind, in my imagination i walk with her as she tends her garden, feeds her chickens and shares an afternoon nap with her young grandson.

i think perhaps i found ms moon and her blog in order to teach me ...
there is no need to write only of the extraordinary.
each life is a story, each new day a chapter waiting to be told.

yesterday

2011-05-30T14:40:00.000+01:00

was yesterday. ayrshire, ever happy to provide me with fodder for my pen...
whipped up some gale force wind to accompany a trip to the car boot sale. hah!
us scot's love to blether on about the foulness of the weather. yesterday was special, it took a hardy soul to walk that car boot sale. everything was flying off the tables, toys, books, clothes, china. stall holders were scurrying around making futile attemps to save their merchandise. damn, i almost forgot, in between blasts of freezing wind it would rain as well. were there bargains to be had? you betcha! was i interested ... no way! my fellow boot sale goer, made of sturdier stuff than me, myself managed to purchase a bargain lot of plants for the garden and a wheelchair (at an unbelievably cheap price), that girl loves a bargain.
me, i was just overjoyed when i made it back to the car without being blown away or giving in to my indecent obsession with bacon rolls and hot chips from greasy food carts.

bite me

2011-05-28T21:57:00.001+01:00

i got bitten
by a dog
on my hand
should i blog?

i care
but do you
that my hand's
turning blue

he was big
was that critter
the dog
but not bitter

just bad tempered
jumpy
and now my hands
lumpy

i heard my bones crunch
and i thought "goodness me!"
i'm terribly glad
that my right hand's still free

the beast's fangs sank in
and tore out some flesh
so where i was more
i am now a bit less

my blood it was spurting
and dripping bright red
i felt a bit faint
which is better than dead

so off in the car
to the ayr a and e
where they said "not life threatening"
and left me to seeth

they injected my arm
with a tetanus shot
let me tell you my friends
that hurt, quite a lot!

they bandaged me up
and sent me on home
to deal with my stress and my trauma
alone

ah me and oh my
will i ever manage
to recover myself
from this terrible damage

my bandage grows smaller
the wound it is healing
but in my ring finger
i have missing feeling

enough now of whining
it's time to forget
the fact that the dog
bit me not the vet!

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

wrong again

2011-05-22T22:17:00.002+01:00

i wonder how he's feeling
perhaps a little sad
the rapture it has been and gone
it did not seem too bad
i guess he got it wrong again
that prophet of our time
if people want to move upstairs
they'll have to wait in line
so many prophecies are made
so many come to nought
the gullible will never learn
redemption can't be sought
their time will come and so will mine
when we will meet our maker
i somehow doubt we'll know the date
we move up to god's acre

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

the garden

2011-05-13T17:40:00.000+01:00

today is dark, windy and quite frankly... rather unpleasant, which is a pity as i really need to get out there in my brown working boots and mud caked gardening gloves. scottish grass is green and grows without encouragement. miss a mowing day... due to my natural, south african aversion to the wet and ... damn the stuff is a foot high and completely out of control. i lean on the wall which overlooks the greeness and i lack the will to do battle with the growth. perhaps some geese or a miniature goat?

forget-me not blue spreads like a camouflage of sky across the garden. they grow everywhere, successful, born on the wind, in search of a new fragment of earth in which to bind their roots. there are daisies too, as yet lacking in blossom but growing tall and strong between the flagstones which pave the back yard.

this is a country garden, rasberry canes growing untamed, black currant, red currant and gooseberry bushes nudging each other as they vie for space to spread their branches. i have watched them bud and flower and now i watch the fruit grow and swell, waiting for the soft heat of summer to reach maturity and ripen.

the huge cherry tree which shades the front garden has flowered and the pink blossoms, blown on a gusting breeze, now whirl and swirl like confetti across open spaces. the tree produces small, bitter fruit, inedible even to the birds of the wild. but ... oh how the bees enjoyed her blossoms, the air buzzed with the sound of their labour, day after day, i would stand in her shade and listen to their feasting song, that tree was alive with the sound of the hive.

the apple trees and the damson are still in flower and butterflies float between the individual blossoms in the warm morning sun.
the happy sound of a busy bumble bee zooms past my ear, in this garden at least, they still thrive.
perhaps it is the lack of human interferance, the wildness of it that calls us to this garden.

the missing inches

2011-05-05T13:54:00.000+01:00

i was once 5ft 6in tall. i say ... i was, past tense, i seem to have lost one and a half inches somewhere along the line.
where did it go? for pete's sake! is it a slow gradual process or did i just wake up one day considerably shorter than when i went to bed.
hah! old age is like the reverse of youth, instead of growing taller we grow shorter. which let's face it would be fine if i had been six foot tall in my prime. dammit i could still live another thirty years! how small might i end up? perhaps ... better to die young with all your inches and mental faculties still with you!
only kidding, i look forward to being a bitchy old lady, one of those who says whatever they darn well feel like. i shall embarrass my children and my grandchildren, my great grandchildren, naturally enough, will dote on me.
in the mean time i have climbed back on the wheel of exertion, if i am to be short i had best be tough, wiry and fit.

the river runs

2011-05-02T21:04:00.000+01:00

let's meander through the town
town hall, church spires, modern mall
old and new grow old together
butcher, baker, pubs to crawl

through the town the river runs
white swans swimming to the quay
by the firth of clyde enfolded
deep fried mars bars, chilled chablis

soccer taken as religion
boys grow loud in victory
arm in arm they own the streets
chanting of the enemy

stone and seediness together
peeling paint and some decay
icecream and the sun warmed tarmac
all in place on this may day

sticky fingers icecream coated
fudge fudge wink wink, crispy cone
leaning on the car and thinking...
by myself yet not alone

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

mindful of memory

2011-04-25T19:04:00.000+01:00

went clubbing on saturday night. long, long time since i danced the night away. my hearing has only returned to normal today!
back in the day ...
many, many years ago, when i was young, the fellas who played in bands wore suits and ties. we sat at tables around a dance floor and drinks were brought to the table. we waltzed, we danced the cha-cha. the tango, the fox trot and we rocked! we twisted and we shouted, we did the bossa nova and the pepsi. all those tedious dancing lessons, clutched in the arms of sweaty palmed boys ...
they had finally paid off!
the lights were romantic, there were always free cigarettes on each table... great marketing gimmick! our guys would usually drink too much and try and nick a glass or a pot plant on the way home - the embarrassment of it - oy!
my mom was very anti the demon drink and i was a good girl. not that good though, i smoked and imagined myself very grown up and elegant, i even savoured an occasional baby cham. i really enjoyed port and lemon but then "someone" informed me that port and lemon was a prostitute's drink, ruined the whole thing for me! what a goody two shoes!
saturday night was different. me and my lady were out with a bunch of twenty something girls, celebrating a birthday.
the dance floors were hot and crowded, the music was bloody loud and one would need to fight for a place to sit! ahhhh ... the simple joy of it, swaying, mesmerized by the beat, the noise, the flashing lights and my girl in my arms. we older-thans left early and still we only got to bed at three in the morning

back home in the RSA, in the good old days, the night clubs closed at midnight ... well, after midnight saturday it is sunday and in those days ...
sunday was for church and sombre music on the radio. our crowd would meet at the park where we would listen to LM radio on the car radio. LM radio was beamed out of mozambique, they played the top forty on a sunday night. whew ... such wickedness. we used to wash down all this illegal music with hot dogs and lime milk shakes from the pie cart!

memory, the gift of recall, remembering times long gone by and each day storing new memories for our future tomorrow.

the rolling green

2011-04-22T22:14:00.000+01:00

i have never understood why ...
on this green and lovely isle so many people ...
dig up their lawns and cover the exposed earth with a weed resistant membrane and then replace the grass lawn with gravel!

i mean, really ...
who would choose grey over green?

as of today - me!
nah, not really. however i am whimpering and whining for a ride on lawn mower!

yup, me, myself has recently been appointed chief grass cutter. scottish grass, in addition to being really green, grows really fast. my designated cutting lawn is large-ish and mostly long-ish. there are clumps of daffodils which should preferably be left intact, there are trees with roots to trip over, there are brambles with thorns sneaking through the hedge to pierce and bloody the unwary.
lawn mowing in this part of ayrshire is a dangerous occupation!
now as we all know, the wolf whilst undoubtedly being devastatingly attractive, amazingly intelligent and wondrously talented ...
well, me, myself (although i hesitate to mention this)is hardly in the first flush of youth!
mowing a big lawn is a big job.
and so ... in my latest incarnation, i am a lawn slave! at this moment in time, an exhausted lawn slave.

but - what a feeling when the job is done, as i lean on the wall admiring the end result of my effort, small garden birds make the most of cleaning up the world of earth worms and small insects exposed by the blades of the mower. the wild is temporarily tamed.
very satisfying ...
but, i still want a ride on mower!

happiness is ...

2011-04-13T11:26:00.000+01:00

what?
for me, myself, happiness appears to lead to an extreme lack of interest in writing!
a lack of anxt leaves me poetically uninspired.

i have never sat and written as if it was a job of work, the words have just filled my mind until i have no option but to empty it through the application of pen on paper.

when i lost my mann, in some way i lost the will to be happy. i spent so many years accepting less than ...
believing i was happy and writing to mask the reality of absent joy.

now, each today is a new experience of reciprocal love, of sharing and companionship, laughter and learning. passion prowls my heart and mind, expressed in the reality of relationship.
the words of my experience have found a beloved and pour from my lips to her ear.
my pen lies strangely idle ...

taking the waters

2011-03-14T18:52:00.000Z

what a weekend! spent the first night in blackpool at a wonderful b and b called butlers. friday night we went to see the show 'funny girls', wonderful! evidently the cast have performed twice at the royal variety performance, i'm pretty sure their majesties would have enjoyed the show almost as much as i did.

crufts was great ... i would never have guessed there were so many breeds in the world! we watched the otter hounds being judged, well, of course we would, the animal doctor is an otter hound fanatic!

there is a section called "discover dogs", especially interesting for me as my latest grandson is a llasa apso who goes by the name of oscar amadeus. i am not familiar with the breed and whilst oscar is ... naturally... the most beautiful and intelligent pup to ever romp the green ayrshire acres ...
well, i had never come across a full grown example of the breed and pictures of llasa apso show dogs tend to show them as a long haired creature, with very much the look of a well brushed broom!
to my gratification and delight, thanks to crufts i have now seen a llasa apso with a decent, dog type haircut, very fetching!

saturday evening we decided to skip spending the evening in a central birmingham hotel, the animal doctor surprised me by taking us off to buxton to stay in the old hall hotel, reputed to be england's oldest hotel.

"Warm hospitality in what may be the oldest hotel in England. Built to house the doomed Mary Queen of Scots, this hotel has connections with another 16th century superstar Bess of Hardwick, and a history of hospitality that may even predate the Romans in Britain."

so, like ... wow! the lift had to be seen to be believed, floors that strayed a long way from the straight, corridors, higgledy, piggledy, up two stairs, along a way and then three down. plus - fleur-de-lis embossed toilet paper... no really!!!
needless to say, i had a wonderful time. i also discovered magners irish cider - yeehah!

having partaken of an excellent english breakfast of embarrassing proportions we mustered the strength to take a stroll around the town where we drank from st. anne's well and then powered through the park, taking in the duck pond, the pavilion, the opera house and an enclosed garden whilst enjoying a short spell of sunshine.

on leaving buxton we took a detour to the 'middle of great britain', a place called dunsop bridge. there was no sign but our sat nav assured us we were in the correct spot even though it appeared to be a car park with recycling bins and a (very nice and clean) public toilet. it seems that there is some argument as to exactly where the middle of great britain actually is. for me, dunsop bridge will do very nicely thank you, it means i have now travelled to john o'groats (northern most point), land's end, the lizard in cornwall (southern most point) and "the centre of GB".

so yeah ... i had a great weekend :-)

crufts

2011-03-08T10:15:00.000Z

off to birmingham via blackpool this weekend.

birmingham for crufts!

blackpool ... hey man, blackpool fascinates me, like a trip back in time, a grand dame, a tad past her best, exhibiting a certain sea side seediness!

unhappy

2011-02-19T04:26:00.000Z

unhappy is a memory we hide so well
one morning we wake up and forget we ever were
we cling to happy for our survival
cherishing, nurturing, giving
all the care we might offer a house plant
unhappy we hide in the recesses of mind
tucked away, file unfound and almost forgotten

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

what ever love is...

2011-02-14T16:25:00.000Z

what is love ...

a question, an answer
it is sometimes a curse
a needing, a longing
a blinding starburst

love is gentle and giving
both quiet and loud
it's fiery and frenzied
yet soft as a cloud

it is born and it grows
it may live, it may die
it brings pain and pleasure
a smile and a sigh

it can tear you apart
it might drive you insane
you may fall in and out
yet it's never the same

love opens our minds
to romantic new notions
of roses, deep red
and magic love potions

love speeds up our pulse
our heart might well ache
love is so powerful
it can make a heart break

some love is forever
some just for a while
some walk life together
some share for a mile

whatever love is...
a mysterious state
two souls bound as one
intended by fate

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

wind song

2011-02-04T16:55:00.000Z

how hard can the wind blow, how loud can it howl? pretty damn hard it would seem!

since moving to ayrshire i have lived on or pretty near to the coast, where, strangely enough there would seem to be a dearth of tall trees. perhaps due to the some what forceful breezes which batter our beautiful coast in the winter time!
the animal doctor's home has some fairly large trees, she resides somewhat nearer to the middle than to the west coast...
cryptic huh??

the point is, she has trees, perhaps it would be more correct to say ... there are trees growing in her garden!
when mamma wind blows, she sings through the trees. she howls, she moans. mamma wind is one bad tempered old lady today.

the witching hour

2011-01-20T09:27:00.000Z

where do i find the witching hour
deep buried in the dark water
where the moon shines bright
reflected above in the night sky's
star studded indigo dome
do i hear the magical chant
in the crisp sound of footsteps
breaking the white of frost covered ground
is the witching there in the sounds
of silence and night birds, disturbed
as i feel the magical embrace
of tall trees, stark standing
echoing the season in their naked finery

where do i find the witching hour

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

4 x 3 x 30

2011-01-18T10:14:00.004Z

January 11th 2011

woke up at 5.30 this morning and decided to keep my lazy arse out of bed post caffeine and nicotine fix ;-)

so ... then i remembered the get fit and skinny in four minutes programme.

omg! have you any idea how long 30 seconds are when running hard (well, hardish or perhaps just a tad less than marshmallow-ish ), i still have no idea! it was too dark to see the second hand on my watch so i just ran until i had to stop - not long, believe me lol! why was i running in the dark? well for pete's sake you did not expect me to run like a demented grey hound in front of the inhabitants of my retirement complex - in broad daylight!!

anyway, i think i more or less did it. my poor (soon to be wee) body is in shock. when i was done i had to walk slowly around the block in order to get my breath back. didn't want to wake the old folks up with my gasping and wheezing.

the reason for all this spectacular effort on my part was my lady's enquiry as to my ownership of more formal trews. i am to be spoiled by a weekend of fun and relaxation in edinburgh, evidently we will be staying in a 'rather nice hotel'. now, while my normal preferred attire consists of jeans (usually slightly worn around the edges) and a shirt, i do own two suits and one pair of slightly formal black pants (translation into scottish - trousers), tried them on this morning :-(
sigh ... they still fit, but, like a second skin and they are a real job to button and zip up.
motivation to exercise - found!
motivation to eat less - found!

time to accomplish pants/trousers which fit mission - less than two weeks. oy!

may the force be with me.

phelan moonshadow - chapter 5

2011-01-17T19:54:00.002Z

If you wish to start at chapter 1 - see posts below

Where is Phelan Moonshadow right now?

Blowing the smoke of an elicit cigarette through a kitchen window, gazing at the almost full moon,
contemplating the last few swallows of a tall glass of Jack Daniel and Seven Up.

I am unbound from the past, looking to the future.

Three months ago, a heart broken wolf met the Animal Doctor. On Sunday we celebrated our three month anniversary with pink champagne, candles, rose petals and romance!

The wolf's heart learns the healing power of love.

As yet we keep our lives separate to some small degree. Gradually Phelan learns to replace the fear of failure with hope for the future.

I find comfort in her love, peace in her presence and bliss in her arms.

Tomorrow waits, a delicious new adventure into the unknown.

phelan moonshadow - chapter 4

2011-01-11T22:53:00.003Z

If you wish to start at chapter 1 - see posts below

Chapter 4

so … I was born straight or so it might appear, female, blonde with really big blue eyes. Funny thing that, how your eyes seem to become smaller with age whilst your ears seem to keep right on growing! Somehow the blonde turned a shade of indiscriminate brown as I grew up. No matter, age has it's compensations and I am now the owner of an almost completely silver head of hair.

The boy was always with me in my preferences and I was fortunate enough to be born into a family who, sure and confident in their own gender rolls, felt no need to harass me in regard to my distinct lack of femininity.

I had no trouble at all when it came to finding boys and later, men... attractive. Perhaps I was born bi-sexual, with an ability to find either sex attractive, but, the way of my world was to find a man, marry your love and make babies. As a youngster growing up and during the long, happy years of my marriage, the possibility of loving a woman never even entered my head.

I must have been widowed for about two years. I was still deep in the misery of my loss and I was lonely. I moved from my family home to marry my man and live with him. I had never lived alone and here I was, alone, fifty six years old, children all grown with lives of their own. The silence rang in my ears until it deafened me!

By now I had realized that my man was special, a one in a million fellow. I would never take another man as either lover or husband.

I have no idea quite how I came to the decision that pursuing a relationship with a woman might be the way to go.

Never the less, I did.

I joined an internet dating site, my profile stated that I was a woman seeking a relationship with a woman. Life was about to become interesting.

At about the same time, I decided to study the art of healing through reflexology. I found a college which offered a course over a year. I had lost my old life when I lost my love, I was determined to find a new path into the future.

Little did I know that the wolf was stirring, the boy awakening, Phelan Moonshadow was soon to be born.

phelan moonshadow - the life, the loves, the lies ...

2011-01-10T16:27:00.003Z

Chapter 1

Where does one start a tale? In the beginning, at the end, in the middle? In the beginning was too long ago, there is no end, at least, not yet. The middle, where is the middle my friend, where is the middle?

Who am I? Not who I used to be, that is for sure. Neither who I will be at some future point in time, for we change and grow, expand and shrink – we are life until we are no more. As changeable as Scottish weather, as beautiful as the green hills rising, as dangerous as the storm waves crashing against the jagged black rocks of an Ayrshire shore.

For the now, I am Phelan Moonshadow, woman, boy, wolf, wordspinner

Makes one wonder – does it not?.

Chapter 2

I was born straight, a tom boy, most definitely, no bows or frills, no dolls for me. In play, give me a gun, a car, a knife and let me run free, unimpeded by skirts and the despised fripperies of girlishness.

At eighteen I married a beautiful man, strong and true who spoke to my heart, cherished my mind and loved me for who I was. For thirty six wonderful years we coexisted, from two ... one, more whole together than apart.

The thief named death, stole him from me, from us – by then we were more than just the two who were one. We were a family, a home, a safe harbour.

It appears I find myself starting at the beginning even though it was too long ago! No matter, we will travel as we please, through the time which was my life and the time which is and the hopes which may or may never be.

For we may indeed make plans and imagine our future but in truth we are mere flotsam and jetsam in the chaos of life.
At times we have no doubt that we are in control, our life proceeds in the direction we most hoped for. We work hard, we plan, we pray – we expect the expected. Years pass, dreams are fulfilled, life is almost our own creation.
Huh! A life which proceeds so smoothly, expectations so often met …
what do we learn? Almost nothing! Good times, few problems, an almost uninterrupted smooth flow to life – enjoyable, comfortable, oh yes but in no way educational, speaking of educational in the spiritual sense of the word.

We are here to be human, we are born to question and delve deep, to wonder and despair. The easy life lulls us into the unquestioning, dulls our minds which were created to learn through experience. Chaos reigns, our turn will come and the universe will supply the learning experiences needed to expand our consciousness.

Chapter 3

Today is a new day, a day filled with possibilities.
Three days ago I was filled with shame, anguish and despair. Life was happening and I felt trapped in the chaos, unable and unwilling to reach beyond the past. I had forgotten that we have the freedom to decide, to chose between the acceptable and the less acceptable. In the well pool of my existence I had forgotten that even in the midst of the awful, we still have the freedom to change our minds, open a new door, walk a different path. We may not like what we find, our expectations may not always be met, but, there is a large dose of satisfaction in having the courage to try!

So, why am I writing? Certainly not in the hope of publishing, rocketing book sales, adoring readers and financial gain. These things are all good but, if we are honest, they are rare and seldom accomplished.
I write for myself, to set down in print the path I have walked over the past six years. I write to question and answer, to wonder at the world I wander. I write to clarify my own thought process, to examine the circumstances which have brought me to today.

Today I claim my life, I rejoice in the chaos which has delivered me to this place and this moment in time. I stand on the thresh hold of a new beginning and I am well pleased. Tomorrow may not be as I might wish, I am not afraid. Life is a series of explorations and I have a new companion to share my adventures. I have found a woman who sees the best in me, a woman who understands and accepts the wolf, a woman who eyes the boy in wonder and some small degree of disbelief, a woman who has proved she will fight for that which she values. I have found my fellow traveller.

Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

such sweet salvation

2010-12-30T22:31:00.002Z

your eyes have the soft glow of a dreamer
searching for answers to unasked questions
we search for the soul in the eyes of another
in your eyes i find such sweet salvation
love as gentle as the fragile morning mist
a resilient mind with the strength of tempered steel
made sweet, sure and safe with vulnerability
in you i find the gentle light of a healer
while the fire of your passion burns white hot
a homing beacon for my all consuming desire
my mind, my heart, my body, learn to trust
protected, secure and safe, surrounded by your love
let today be our home and tomorrow our far horizon
beyond which lies the delight of our unfolding dream
where we two will travel as one, hand in hand
finding wonder in the earth beneath our feet
discovering sustenance for our search in the night sky
where far stars beckon the mind which thirsts to know
walk by my side through the now and into forever
touch my hand, read my eyes and know love unending

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

six chimes for seven

2010-12-08T04:12:00.000Z

tick tock, tick tock, i hear the clock
a house full of clocks, some chime
once on the half hour, six chimes for seven
count the chimes and add an hour
the house is stone, weathered, solid
one story only, good for growing old in
it wanders, this house, spreading out
from the original, wide passages, high ceilings
built when there was time and space
big rooms, wide windows streaming pale winter light
outside, cold and crisp, leafless trees
the last vestiges of summer buried beneath the white
within, the warmth of wood fire and leather
flames leaping upwards, speaking warmth in orange flame
sofas, big and brown, sinking soft for comfort
occupied by hairy hounds, careless outspread
books lie, untidy, slightly chewed by teething pup
a cup, half empty,forgotten in the leaving
i am a stranger in this house, it is not my home
yet she bids me welcome and holds me safe
beneath her slate roof, her stone walls
her spacious rooms stir with memories
of those now gone, who lived and breathed
gave birth and died within the shelter of her
i am a stranger in this house of whispers
a stranger welcomed warmly without prejudice
will these same stone walls embrace and hold
within them the essence of my soul
when the short days of the flesh are done

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

Happy Birthday G!

2010-11-30T08:15:00.002Z

Today is Dr G's birthday!

Yes indeed. A capital letter day!

His new heart is beating strong in his chest.

We have high hopes he will be home from the hospital in time for Christmas.

The life force is so precious and so fragile,so quickly taken,
so easily lost.

If a grateful heart is a song of praise, then ...
I offer my heart.

"beyond time"

2010-11-22T11:53:00.000Z

oh wow, oh wow, oh wow!

knock on the door ... rat-a-tat-tat.
special delivery...

"beyond time"

absolutely friggin' perfect. a real book, a real poetry book,
hard cover with shiny printed pages!

the word smith is without words ...

taking a beating

2010-11-22T06:00:00.000Z

scotland versus south africa

oy! the humiliation of it all. my beloved springboks
beaten, nay, let me be truthful ... thrashed by scotland.

boys, manne! these guys wear skirts!

perhaps i inadvertantly put the kaibosch on the boys. after all
i did allow one incredibly large and indupitably british hound
to slime my south africa scarf. not deliberately you understand,
due only to a moments inattention!

fortunately, in my somewhat varied genetic inheritance,
i am a good part scottish. i dare say, in time, i will come
to accept that if my beloved bokke must be beaten ...

well kilts, bagpipes and strapping scottish boys in blue
and white are the only way to go ...

international rivalry

2010-11-20T08:13:00.000Z

scotland versus south africa

today at murrayfield ... nope, we are not dragging our arses
out into the cold with an excellent chance of rain. we are
staying in with the telly!

She has her scotland rugby shirt, i have my south africa scarf!
a roaring log fire, a drop or so of the o' be joyful.
let battle commence!

She has a taste for classical music, i have a taste for pop
music. tonight i will introduce Her to the joys of X factor.
yeah, i know ... poor lass!
perhaps She might one day teach the tone deaf wolf to love
more than modern music. mind you, one can hardly call sixties music
modern, perhaps by now it qualifies as classical?

in print, on paper...

2010-11-18T21:54:00.001Z

i am in the process of publishing! oh yes indeed, i am, i am!

to be painfully truthful, i am self publishing. what the heck, a book in print is a book in print!

as it is in hardcover the process takes about twelve days and then i think the delivery time is another three
days.
so, the wolf is prowling and pacing, overwhelmed with impatience.

if and when i am satisfied with "the book" i will give my publishers the go ahead and they will start the
marketing process.

"beyond time" is a small collection of some of the poems i wrote for and about my ex during our years
together.
as might be expected it is filled with words proclaiming (mostly)my misery at being dumped, ignored,
neglected etc etc.
ah, there ain't nothin' on this mortal coil that can howl like this wolf when things are not going
my way!

if this publishing lark works out, i intend to publish a paperback with some of my favourite poems.

new life, new vistas!

ahhh ... by the way, sunday is my last smoking day, yes, again! fingers crossed people.

sunshine sunday

2010-11-14T22:00:00.000Z

today was a good day. it failed to rain, there was some blue sky
and at times the sun actually shone. this is ayrshire in november,
what more could one ask for!

today me, myself and the animal doctor took her wonderful hounds
for a walk. have you ever met an otter hound? they are big,
really big and hairy and exuberant. they have longish, shaggy
coats which seem to attract every drop of available wetness.so, on
a sunny day one might start off with a dry, fluffy hound and half an
hour later be walking with a rather wet and bedraggled hound.
let them off the leash and they are off following their
noses! their stride simply eats up the ground, before you know
it they are away in the far distance, mostly they find their
way back to you...
sometimes, the younger one does not return of his own accord
and one might spend some considerable amount of time relocating
the not so wee bastard!

life is good.

onwards and upwards

2010-11-10T06:36:00.002Z

six in the morning, quite a respectable hour at which to wake.
pitch black outside and so quiet i can hear the leaves fall.

except of course when a train rockets past sounding like a
screaming banshee!during the summer the trees and bushes which
follow the line do somewhat muffle the noise of a passing
train. now, on our way into winter, with their branches almost
bare ...
well, let's just say, noise wise i do notice a difference!
i saw the fox again yesterday, making her way along the line.
when it comes to fox spotting, the leafless trees do allow a
better view.

tonight the animal doctor is popping in for a drink and a bit
of a blether. what's more, this healer for the animal kingdom
did not bat an eye when i told her i had rejoined the nicotine
brigade! my kind of girl ;-)

onwards and upwards!

three o'clock

2010-11-08T22:01:00.000Z

it's three o'clock in the morning
i find that i'm awake
it should be quite upsetting
but, what difference does it make

the wind is howling wildly
rain spatters against glass
i sit and tap computer keys
to help the dark hours pass

the thing with living on your own
is that it doesn't matter
if wandering at night is what you do
you're free to make a clatter

there's many things that i could do
if i should feel the need
and nobody would mind at all
if the light's on and i read

i make a cup of coffee
and i light myself a smoke
a freight train thunders through the night
perhaps that's why i woke

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

Make You Feel My Love - wow!

2010-11-07T12:06:00.002Z

2010-11-05T21:37:00.000Z

"Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again."

- Og Mandino

time to move on ...

2010-10-24T15:49:00.000+01:00

there is a season for all things. a time for all truth.
one designated day in the life of me myself when ...
i have to say ... "i heard the fat lady sing!"

the sun may shine, the wind might blow, in all probability
(given the small corner of our beloved planet on which i pitch
my tent)rain will fall.
one thing will not change, sugar and the wolf are no more.

yesterday is the past, a time to be cherished in memory alone.

i joined pinksofa, i paid my fees, i read profiles, sent smiles
and winks, i have chatted and called, teased and flirted.
i have even dated, in a some what desultory manner.
my heart has not been in it. enough already...i
spent six years loving and tormenting herself. time to admit
the obvious, it is over.

today is the first day of the rest of my life!

i will be closing down 'the mind nomadic' and 'the unfolding
enigma'. they have had their time and enjoyed their space.

i have need of a new space. a different time and place in which
to journal the trials and tribulations, the excitements and
anticipations of the wolf. i seek the freedom to whine about the
old and exclaim over the new.

if you wish to continue to follow the path of the wolf - email
me or find me on facebook, i have a new blog as yet undisturbed
by my tales, thoughts, theories, conjectures and downright
lies!soon enough i will find those pristine pages irresistible
and the words will come.

in the mean time, thank you my friends and readers. thank you
for reading, commenting, consoling. thank you for listening
to the words which grow in the heart of the wolf.

my soul friend

2010-10-13T21:09:00.001+01:00

damn it is suddenly cold!
since i came back from africa the weather has been distinctly
un-scottish. plenty of warm sunny days, ideal for wandering
the promenade, full of muse-less anxt!

those of my readers who have been with me over the years, will
understand the difficulty i find in functioning without my muse.
after all have we not visited this land of misery and mayhem
many, many times before?

in a way i was fortunate to be called away to offer support to
my son back home in south africa. the difficult ordeal of waiting
hoping and praying in the impersonal corridors of the hospital -
well, one is hardly given to considering one's broken heart at
such a time.

back in bonnie scotland with dr g's new heart beating strong, the
mantle of panic starts to slip from my shoulders. i become
absorbed by the blandness of my life sans herself!
after all, for the past six years we have kept one another
amused and entertained.
in anger and anxiety, sadness and spirituality, sickness and
health, feast and famine ...
we have shared our days, our hours, our minutes.

and now ...
no more!

nix, nada, nothing!

it is as if my heart has ceased to beat. the deafening silence
rings in my ears.

for a woman to love a woman is a thing of wonder, an exploration
of a world set apart,a magical time of being.
the loss of such a companion is however, unbearable.

an ocean stretches between us, our paths diverge and we walk
alone.
and yet ...
despite all our differences
herself was and always will be my anam cara, my soul friend.

2010-10-06T21:11:00.000+01:00

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

Mary Oliver

"i feel such a fool!"

"please don't make a fool out of me."

why on earth are we so worried about how we might appear to the
outside world.

why does it matter?

we are who we are. idiots and angels. we have one life to live.
one short life!

today we laugh, we cry, we wish for the impossible and fail
to find gratitude for the everyday miracles of life.

we forget to say ... "i love you, i appreciate you!"

we forget to say ... "thank you for loving me!"

we believe in our right to happiness and forget that true joy
is found in loving and serving others.

how easily we forget to be humble, and then, such a short step to arrogance and pride.

today we breath, tomorrow we are dust.

time ... the one thing we can't borrow.

the link

pause and think
regard the link
review the past
gone so fast
live in the now
do you know how
the future waits
owned by the fates
chaos rules
and we are fools

yesterday today tomorrow
time the one thing we can't borrow

Copyright © 2004-20010 by Eryll Oellermann

the scars of time

2010-10-02T22:35:00.000+01:00

once more, an unfamiliar journey
yet fair, this lap which must be run
outdistanced by the future
bound into an inevitable race of one

hesitate, or leap forward unafraid
empty of regret, blind to the lost illusion
the pounding excavation of tomorrow
at the font of love's confusion

so hail the unsung hero now
for yesterday is soon undone
sliced from memory, yet written
in the scars of time, for some

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

an ocean apart

2010-09-29T05:12:00.000+01:00

thirty one straight days of sunshine! may not sound like a lot
to some of you, but ...
as a resident of the misty isles ... wow!

it was hard to leave my boy.
to be home is a joy tinged with sadness at my inability to
be beside him at this most difficult time in his life.

his dear love is still in the ICU, fighting, day by day to
survive and grow a little stronger.

we may be an ocean apart my son, but ...
you are always surrounded by our love.

dry my beloved country!

2010-09-10T05:01:00.000+01:00

flying from the misty, dampness of scotland to a dry, dry johannesburg at the end of winter ...

the sun shines every day! gauteng is a summer rainfall area, we have not yet enjoyed spring rain. the air is dry!
my poor nose ... nasal passages adjusted to a coastal scottish clime reacted to the dusty dryness in the way they deemed best. they shrivelled up and cracked leaving me with a stuffy, bleeding nose.
things have improved with time, me and my nostrils are slowly adjusting ...

i remain a happy non smoker!

my boy is a Vegan with a capital V, he is also an artist in the kitchen. my previously blood soaked palate is learning the pleasures of meatless eating.

what next???

i hear the hadida

2010-08-30T06:29:00.000+01:00

i am home, under the african sun. surrounded by the familar, the voices of my people, the sights and scents of south african spring.

i did not expect to be here, i expected to be watching summer fade from my ayrshire window.

the unexpected has brought me here, here where i need to be at this time.

our dear g, my son's partner, soul mate, life love ...
suffered a massive heart attack last tuesday.

we have to wait now, while machines monitor his body and time accomplishes her healing. there are no guarantees, there is hope and love, belief in his strength and his will to live.

19th august 2010

2010-08-22T07:34:00.002+01:00

today i delivered ms sugar to glasgow airport ...
herself, her two cats and five suitcases boarded the plane for
newark.

sometimes ... love is not enough.

i found the fox

2010-07-25T22:49:00.001+01:00

in the summer heat
i found the fox
and the cold burn of anger
the fox ran the line
where trains travel
clickety clack
full of humanity
yawning their way to work
the rumble of great freight carriers
coal and oil on the line
to somewhere
in the cooling dark
of the long days end
i found the fox
and the ice of rage
the fox sat in the shadows
on the bank beneath the line
waiting for what
and i remembered
that nothing lasts forever

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

four weeks

2010-05-11T12:56:00.000+01:00

today herself has been here for four whole weeks.
a couple of times i spent three months with her in the states
but this is the longest time herself has been away from
new york!

today my lady is a little homesick and weepy, missing
her daughters,friends and familiar culture.
almost every day we discover a new something, a difference in
the way we view the world around us. we agree, we disagree, we
fight and make up. sugar and the wolf are learning to live
together ... rueful smile!

for myself ...
she has brought laughter back into my life, we laugh, we giggle,
at times our sides ache and tears of joy run from our eyes.
my mind is constantly challenged, ms sugar is a woman of
considerable intelligence and deep held beliefs. naturally at this
beginning stage of our life together, we fairly often find
ourselves at odds. we are no spring chickens! herself grew
up in the bronx and i grew to adulthood under the african sun.
so ...
is it at all likely that we will agree on everything? hell no!

the wonder of our relationship lies in the fact that we are
together, we are commited to a shared future.
our love and time together will enrich and enliven us both.

for now, it is enough to drift off to sleep, knowing that my
lady is safe by my side, that tomorrow will not bring a heart wrenching
separation.
i wake in the morning secure in the knowledge that whatever
the day may bring - we are together.

we survived a long distance relationship for five years
and five months.
it was never easy!
was it worth the wait?

hell yes!!

sugar settles on scottish soil!

2010-04-26T14:21:00.000+01:00

she said she was coming, i knew she meant what she said,
but ...
did i believe that herself would ever actually arrive on
these scottish shores ... no way!

the cat's were supposed to arrive about a week before herself and
i was to collect them from glasgow airport. thursday was a rather grey and
dreary day, glasgow is not an enormous airport, it still took me a
while to find the correct cargo warehouse.
i sat in the car and awaited their arrival, if the furry critter
actually arrived, well then ...
i would have to believe that herself would surely follow!
my mobile rang, the cats had arrived, time to collect the first
instalment of the great trans pond migration.

herself arrived the following tuesday with six, yes six huge
suitcases.
my dream was about to come true!
my life would be forever changed...

while i wait for you

2010-04-04T07:08:00.000+01:00

today
i listen to the rain
most times so soft
unheard
not so today

today
i watch the invading light
no visible sun
to herald
a new day

today
the coffee smell
drifts across the morning
calling taste buds
to abandon sleep

today
i burn scented candles
window open wide
as i exhale illicit smoke
from a smoke free building

today
i find contrariwise.org
literary tattoos
the wonder of words
skin deep

today
i wonder at the spaces in between
and what they mean
how much we have to learn
our universal insignificance

today
i write these words
which grow within my soul
and live beyond my hand
and i wait for you

Copyright © 2010 by Eryll Oellermann

the bells of st. meddans

2010-03-07T11:20:00.000Z

this morning i took myself off for a brisk stroll along the
shore.
beautiful, the tide was way out, leaving acres of sand for
ball chasing dogs to hurtle across.
older couples were strolling, no particular hurry. young
couples held hands and snogged at the oceans edge.
toddlers toddling, moms and dads pushing strollers filled
with strapped in tykes.

i left the sea front and cut across in front of the town hall,
then down and across into the high street for a window shopping
wander.
i quickened my pace as i turned into church street and headed
for home.
the bells of st. meddans were ringing, calling
the faithful to prayer. the somewhat late faithful were
scurrying, heels clattering on the stone pavements. dressed in
their sunday best and determined not to embarrass themselves
with a tardy entrance!

life is good!

home again, warm spring sunshine streaming through the windows.
my rainbow maker whirling away, creating joyous patterns
across the living room.

i popped a piece of pork in the oven for our sunday lunch roast.
the children are coming for lunch today. the omnivorous part of
my family, not the vegans!

kettle on, coffee brewing, time to blog.

emily times three

2010-02-28T13:30:00.000Z

i ask why
why when i shop
please explain
do i not buy two
or even four
no never
always
three orange oranges
three apples
three rosy pink grapefruit
why three
veggies now
one head of broccoli
is enough
unless a special offer
raises temptation
two for the price
of one
and then it will sit
that extra broccoli
in the fridge
and turn the shade of blue
that green becomes
when broccoli remains uneaten
past it's sell by date
forcing me to think
of home and hungry children
and waste and guilt
when i finally bring myself
to toss it's suspect self
into the bin
why three
three orange oranges
three apples
three rosy pink grapefruit
why fruit time three
explain it to me
emily times three

Copyright © 2010 by Eryll Oellermann

etched

2010-02-25T23:25:00.000Z

we should know better
we really should
than to ask a question
we have asked before

what makes today different
from yesterday
only the wisdom gleaned
through pain past

a fragile shelter
in a large life storm
why is today never enough
why hunger for tomorrow

teach me mother universe
to eat from my heaped plate
and leave for others
the temptings of the future

etched in my palms
the lines of life and living
an innocence of pain
well documented

initiate of the safe circle
surrounded by love protective
why endure the disenchantment
of questions already answered

Copyright © 2010 by Eryll Oellermann

dance

2010-02-21T14:05:00.000Z

some weekends are slow.

i still miss herself, my friend, my anam cara. the sound of the world rings with the silence of our parting.

today i was reading a few of the blogs i follow and i came across an update at closer to fine

what a serendipitous find, a wonderful happy dance video!

thanks you nina for the reminder of the joy of music and dance.

can't wait till i receive the all clear on my foot. seeing the surgeon on thursday.
and then ...
i will dance!

coffee, no cake

2010-02-18T21:02:00.000Z

not that i had a tough time! i had a fun day ...
an enjoyable time, coffee became lunch, a really nice woman. lots of things in common, plenty to chat about.
i think we might become good friends in time.

i was delighted to find that my companion enjoys her food and is not a vegetarian. i am surrounded by vegetarians and vegans ... at times i do feel the pressure.
today however ...
we tried a new restaurant.
really great coffee and i managed to avoid ordering cake.
for lunch i chose baked tattie with haggis and cheese, mmmm, yummy!

coffee date data

2010-02-16T23:08:00.000Z

i have a coffee date on thursday. indeed i do ...
and not with an internet introduced stranger either!
a genuine gay friend of a straight friend. i have even
met her once before, i liked her, she was educated,
intelligent and accent less. accent less is quite important
for first meetings! saves all that ... "i'm sorry, excuse me,
would you mind saying that again" stuff.

of course i am as nervous as a race horse at the starting gate.
bumping into someone at a friends place is rather less
stressful than a "coffee date". just the two of us, eyeing
each other across coffee and cake. no beloved pal to banter
on about everything and nothing, filling any awkward silences.

hah! nothing ventured, nothing gained - roll on thursday!

now ... should i have a cream scone or chocolate cake ...

i'm back!

2010-02-15T16:44:00.000Z

hey ho, well! that absense didn't last long, did it?

truth is, i was feeling all miserable and maudlin and felt
the need for a more private blog in which to whinge and
whine without upsetting those i love.

and then ...
i thought "what the hell, i can have a private wailing
blog and still blog on the mind nomadic and the
unfolding enigma!"
pure genius! no really... sometimes i surprise even myself.

until we meet again

2010-02-12T08:25:00.000Z

friday 12th february - two months exactly since i left my wee village and took up residence in an actual town. quite an eventful two months it has been! wrote off my beloved lady rav, accepted the impossibility of my relationship with herself, finally had my foot fixed.
2010 has possibilities, in march my youngest will visit from south africa. in june i will be spending two weeks with a group of lesbian friends on the island of minorca.

i breathe, spring is in the air, my heart quickens at the signs of new life. the first shoots breaking through the winter empty ground. branches, once desolate, burst with buds, round and plump with new life.our scottish sun rises a little earlier, sets a little later and i feel the warmth of her.

a time of change.
i need a new voice, a new page upon which to write my truth.
on these pages i have grown stale and careful.

dear friends and readers, i will of course continue to follow your blogs!

i will leave the mind nomadic and the unfolding enigma as and where they are. a small history for myself. does anyone remember designated writer? still out there, deserted but inviolate!
from time to time, i will continue to publish some of my poetry on wordspinner

until we meet again.
namaste

"don't label me" ...

2010-02-08T17:05:00.001Z

but, if you must ...

"hey good looking" will do just fine!

fellow blogger jude was called 'sir' recently, which made me
remember ...

even when i was a happily (extremely) married straight woman
i was often called sir. not that i blamed the folks for the
error, i always used to look in the mirror and think to
myself...
"damn! i would have made a much better looking man than
i do a woman."
i figured a lot of my fellow humans do not really SEE us
when they look at us.
short hair, jeans, collared shirt and trainers, a quick glance
equals - male. plus my voice is fairly husky due to years
spent inhaling my addiction!

when i entered the gay world i knew nothing of femmes, dykes,
butches etc. i had grown up a tom boy, i felt no need to adorn
myself in dresses, bows, high heeled shoes and make up. i
enjoyed these things well enough on another woman but for
myself ... no.
ahhh ... the reef was about to be educated.

herself, a self proclaimed femme, much given to bling, high
fashion, hairdressers who gave a damn and expensive and
alluring make up was about to bring me up to scratch.

"you are such a butch" she would say.

me ..."nah, my friends think i'm a very feminine woman."

herself ... "shows how much they know!"

i was always happy to open doors, carry parcels and generally
act the gentleman. that much came naturally to me. it is true
i love to take care of any woman in whose company i find
myself. but ... diy and tools, pumping car tyres, decorating -
these are man jobs in my opinion!

as herself would then mutter ... "what kind of a butch are you?"

indeed!

i sometimes think ... maybe androgynous, soft butch sounds
a bit wishy washy to me.

and then ...
on herself's last visit, when i managed to plough my lady
rav head first into a passing vehicle, leaving ms sugar a
little bruised and bent.
the emergency response teams had a real problem.

a fireman asked me politely ... "are you OK sir?"

the ambulance medic assured ms m... "your husband
is fine, he can ride in the ambulance with you!

hah! red faces all around a while later. mind ... i was looking
strikingly handsome on that particular day!

i dreamed a dream

2010-01-30T17:07:00.002Z

i dreamed a dream
of panthers black
not smooth or sleek
not even fat
these panthers
haunches were so gaunt
not muscled smooth
like big cats flaunt

the night was dark
the stars were bright
i walked a cliff path
by moonlight
the sea below
swelled and subsided
amidst the silence
sound provided

and then i saw them
one, then two
prowling silent
close to you
i recognized you
right away
inspector frost
had come to play

a tv copper
in my dream
how very strange
what could it mean
"be still" i said
"they will not bite,
the queen says they are tame
at night"

that's where i was
just off to tea
to have a chat
the queen and me
she filled my cup
with lady grey
and offered fruit cake
on a tray

she said "my dear
you need to see
a portrait of
some majesty.
they say that sometimes
one might see
a ghost
if one looks carefully"

i looked and then
i laughed with glee
there was no ghost
that i could see
i turned politely
to the queen
and told her what my eyes
had seen

"your majesty"
i had to say
"there is no ghost,
not now, today
what people see
are chickenpox scars
on the faces
of the czars!"

yeah, i know...
but, it's my dream
with panthers black
and england's queen
me taking tea
and eating cake
correcting royalty's
mistake

Copyright © 2010 by Eryll Oellermann

does there need to be a ceremony?

2010-01-29T01:15:00.002Z

should there be? when you wake up one day and realize ...
your singleness.

it has been a long time coming, this, just me and myself
place i find myself in.

five years, where did they go? i was a lot younger at the
beginning. time marches on and who can blame it, after all,
that would mostly be the purpose of time. by marching it
creates a past and promises a future.

so simply put, i am friggin' sixty one years old and single!
am i afraid? no, i have learned how to be content alone.
happiness is a spring which arises within us, if it runs dry
there is no one to blame. there is no blame, only a need to
remember...
"i am"

so i will exist alone in the moment, until it is time
to be unsingle.

1914 - 1918

2010-01-09T18:28:00.006Z

troon, snow covered beach january 2010

1914 - 1918

it's a new feeling
the squishy crunch of dry snow
beneath my soles
each footstep creates
a mark, an imprint
on the virgin white

easier to follow
where a thousand other feet
have beaten a path
the impact of foot fall
making the soft solid
still white, not gritted

the salt and grit
have come and gone
run out, used up
to keep britain running
we know how to deal with rain
but this white ...

snow
now that is an experience
it does come at times
and leaves as quick
scarce bothering to sit and wait
until now

weeks of cold white
not even black ice
only white
as far as the eye can see
i walk as do so many others
along the promenade

no clouds, no rain, no wind
big sky clear and cold
red sun slipping away
beyond the far horizon
britannia stands
high on her plinth

watching over the snow bleached beach
the bounding dogs
and determined walkers
one arm raised
feathered quill in hand
the other hand holds a small angel

in memory of those who fell
beyond our seas
1914 - 1918

Copyright © 2004-2010 by Eryll Oellermann

happy new year from sugar and the wolf!

2009-12-31T20:15:00.001Z

five foot deep

2009-12-03T22:48:00.001Z

"how deep?" my tone echoing disbelief.

"five foot."

"what! well ... be careful you don't fall in, you're only
a wee thing and they may never find you."

"ERYLL!!"

two ladies of an interesting age burying a beloved pet beneath
the full moon. digging a hole five foot deep! because ...
"people garden you know!"

well, it would have been a full moon if it had been yesterday
instead of today and in the dark of night if it were not for
the five hour time difference between new york and ballantrae.

i wandered downstairs to shut the gates for the night.
although i no longer smoke, i lit up, inhaled deeply and
remembered ...

all those goldfish i buried, not all at once of course,
one by one, as their time came. i buried them under the
golden cyprus by the front steps. i have heard that some
people just flush them. can you imagine! not me, no sir,
i buried them in plastic margarine tubs, preserving their
tiny goldfish skeletons for prosterity.

i remembered ...
a small and very beloved yorkie. small in
stature, he knew no fear. he died gleefully attacking
a rottweiler, with never a backward glance, he leaped right
into that big boys jaws. when my time comes i can only hope
to be living life as intensely as he was at that moment.
the mann wrapped him in a baby blanket and layed him to rest
in a deep, cool hole beneath the lucky bean tree.

i remembered ...
a black and white cat, beloved of a man, who, until their
meeting, had no time at all for felines.
somehow, that small black cat worked his way into the heart
of a dedicated dog man. the pair developed an understanding
and for the first time in our long marriage - a cat was
allowed to share the marital bed!
the cat outlived the man by a good few years. now, his cat
ashes held in an urn, they wait to be buried in the grave where
the man's ashes lie.

i grind the cigarette out, turn my back on the moonlight and
the chill night wind.
i smile at the memories as my heart aches a little with longing
for things lost.
i just can't help myself, i chuckle and exclaim out loud ...
"damn! five foot is a very deep burial hole for a a cat..."

2009-11-04T16:14:00.001Z

i flew out, i flew back, i waited a week, my boy flew in. i will
write again ...
i hope...
just not right now!

crossing the pond

2009-10-05T11:13:00.002+01:00

the reef is off on an adventure, leaving my green and pleasant land for a three week sojourn in the rather more sophisticated environs of new york.

probably won't be posting much, if at all.

i'll be back!

1st October 1966

2009-10-01T14:39:00.001+01:00

pietermaritzburg, south africa, the presbyterian church.

a hot, hot october afternoon, the storm clouds building up big and black in the distance.

for us though, sunshine on our faces...

manfred walter oellermann and eryll margaret hart were married that day.

my sweet mann may no longer be around but today would have been our 43rd wedding anniversary and i still love to remember that day and all the brilliant years we spent together.

happy anniversary baby!

love has no expiry date...

sleepless on the west coast.

2009-09-29T02:57:00.002+01:00

i do not have a problem sleeping, in fact, quite the opposite!
i sleep in the blink of an eye. i fall asleep in movie
theatres, reading out loud to my grandchildren. i drift off
during the first ten minutes of a show i have waited all week
to watch. sometimes, in the middle of typing, i wake up,
slumped over the computer keys! at bedtime, i switch off
the reading lamp next to my bed, my head hits the pillow
and zap ...
i am gone.

recently, i dropped off whilst driving. not a good idea, might
lead to all sorts of uncomfortable situations. i was lucky,
it was just for an instant and there were no other road users
around. i got such a huge shock, talk about adrenaline
overdrive!

to cut a long story short, the master medics decided it was
time for ...
a drug dosage adjustment!we are talking legal, prescribed
drugs here people ... no really!

which leaves me ... hot damn it! awake at 2.30 in the morning.
awake and aware.
what next?
what a pity i left saltcoats.
sleepless in saltcoats would have made a much better title.

blood ties

2009-09-28T12:11:00.003+01:00

yesterday was a fun day. i drove through to dailly.
my son, the new dad, was balancing on a tall and wobbly ladder
washing their front windows.
the south african granny was due to fly into prestwick
in the afternoon.
after a cup of coffee and a ham and cheese roll, michelle
loaded young daniel into his rather oversized (for him anyway!)
car seat and off we drove to saltcoats.
i sat in the back with daniel, in case he fretted, but ...
like me, the boy tends to doze off in the car ;-)
this would be the first time daniel met his five cousins,
joshua, mairin, alaska, liam and savannah.
the latest addition managed to totally ignore this
auspicious occasion and slept right through the introductions
and the honour of being held in wonderment by each and every
cousin! there are photos ... i will try and get them uploaded
to my computer.
coffee and tea for the grown ups, coca cola for the kids and
yummy celebratory fairy cakes made by auntie nikki.
then, off to glasgow prestwick airport to pick up ouma. it
was fantastic to see her face light up at the sight of her
newest grandson!
on my way home i stopped at the chippie in girvan and treated
myself to a fish supper... yum!
family ... who would we be without them ...

breathe shallow

2009-09-24T21:43:00.001+01:00

once i wrote of need and want
of love today and tomorrow
my mind burned with an unreal intensity
love was my present and my future
my undeniable reality, i held the dream to me
with an unshakeable belief

today i write little and breathe shallow

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

Daniel

2009-09-20T03:54:00.003+01:00

Daniel and his paternal grandmother. oh yeah ... that would be me!

who calls this early?

six fifteen, the phone rings. i know who it is before i answer.

it is time, they are on their way to the hospital.

twelve thirty, the phone rings ... be still my heart, too soon,
just an update.

"i am a daddy!"

my boy is a father, daniel adam has come to stay.

the hospital is in kilmarnock, a little over an hour away.
i drive, i smile, i cry, i sing. i wish that my mann
was with me, to shake his son's hand and cradle daniel in
his arms.

nikki and i meet at the maternity wing entrance. excited?
... beside ourselves!
we finally find our way to michelle's room, she
is so beautiful, surrounded by the serenity of motherhood.
adam looks so tired and yet fit to burst, his bemused,
besotted gaze embraces his wife and their first born.

ah daniel... there you are! so small, just 5lb 13 oz,
small but perfect.
michelle smiles in understanding ...
"hold him" she says.

baby talk

2009-09-19T19:17:00.001+01:00

Definitely a capital letter day ...

Welcome to our world Daniel Adam Oellermann!

First born son of Adam and Michelle.

My sixth grandchild!

Born at 12.06, weighing in at 5lb 13oz. Small but fighting fit!

2009-09-12T15:39:00.000+01:00

on boobs and burial rituals

2009-09-04T08:52:00.003+01:00

i am truly blessed in my children, all three are exceptional...
kind, loving, thoughtful, articulate and intelligent, arrogant and argumentative!
practically perfect!

my boys look out for me, protect me when necessary, keep in touch regularly and envelop me in bear hugs
when we meet. if i have a problem they will offer their advice and find a solution, they have even been
known to offer advice when i was unaware i had a problem!

my daughter, my first born and my best friend.
my daughter is the mother of five loud, loving, demanding, energetic and opinionated children.
they are my grandchildren and therefore ...
without fault!
however, even i have to admit, five children equals a full time job.
my girl still manages to home school one of the five!

tuesday was the "trip to the bank to deposit the cheque" day. i opened my bank account with barclays bank, bicester, when i first arrived in the uk. barclays is big and reliable.
one small problem ...
in scotland, barclays branches are a rare find ...
i do most of my banking over the internet but once a month i need to visit an actual bank building.
the closest barclays is about an hour away in ayr. there is also a branch in saltcoats where my daughter and her family live and that is only another fifteen minutes away. so, bank days when i am heading north i usually treat myself to a mom and daughter day as well.

so ...
there we were, drinking coffee and catching up. i was relating the tale of my latest visit to the doc and excitedly informed her that doc had offered to refer me to glasgow for a breast reconstruction.
for the info of "them as might not be aware" ... i had a bit of a ruckus with breast cancer about fifteen years ago.
for one reason or another i never 'got around' to having a reconstruction.

me ... " i think i might just do it, g says the nhs glasgow breast clinic do excellent work."

nix ... "yeah, why not mom, maybe they can fix your foot at the same time!"

me ... "nah, i think that might be a bit much!"

nix ... "i suppose ..."

me ... "sheit nix, just imagine, i will have forever perky breasts. even when i'm old (er) and
(even more)saggy everywhere else my boobies will still be perfect ... heh. i will be
buried with pert artificial mammary implants"

nix, laughing ...
"ha, ha! i wonder what future archaeologists will have to say when they start uncovering
female human skeletons, buried with silicone cones on their chests?
they will probably come up with some weird and wonderful religious reason for certain
females needing to be buried with silicone cones to accompany them on their journey
into the next world."

hmmm, indeed ...
life is so full of possibilities and improbabilities. i mean, all it would take is one itsy bitsy
major disaster. we might lose our computers, our paper work, our records.
future generations would be left to wonder ... how, why, what for?
who knows, my skeleton might some day be an important archaeological find. news headlines might scream ...
'three thousand year old skeleton found, weighed down with strange man made cones!'

damn! i won't just be having a breast reconstruction, i'll be making history!

enough already with the idleness ...

2009-08-28T13:06:00.001+01:00

enough already with the idleness ...

Yeah, well … maybe it's time to write again. Must admit I have been sneaking back to the world of blog for the odd visit just recently.

So … what happened? Where was the reef?

Been wondering about that one myself!

Reef the writer, the poet, the revealer of personal life details … kind of crashed and burned for a while there.

Could it have been nicotine withdrawal?

Will we ever know?

Do we even care?

Not really!

gone fishin'

2009-07-09T07:42:00.002+01:00