Tag Archive: ghosts


Cogitating

Well, I’ve got this far. A title…

I wonder if a post will follow, but first Nap-fu practice.

BRB

Well, that was nice. Now I have coffee.

The day hasn’t brought much, except a lot of rain and a broken fridge handle.

The Cogitator

The Cogitator

One needs to think. I suggested in reply to a comment that perhaps I think too much, hence many of my views on life are hardly orthodox, maybe even bordering on the jaundiced.

I do a lot of thinking, usually in bed trying to overcome the barriers of wakefulness before I slip into the semiconsciousness of sleep. I often have my best post ideas then. But failing to be awake enough to note them down, they are gone by morning.

Of course, cogitating is not exclusively done in bed, the throne provides one with an excellent cogitatory, as does doing the dishes, or simply walking along the street. Can’t do it watching TV, TV is an excellent anti-cogitation device.

I am a little more than miffed

The British chancellor’s cat was run over on the same day that Clorinha met her demise. It made headline news. Where was Clorinha’s write up? I’m sure her contribution to the world was far greater than any pampered government moggy. Clorinha wasn’t pampered, loved yes, but I never indulged her like some spoiled pets.

Re: Clorinha, I am still stepping over ghosts. Places around the house where I could well expect her to have lain, places where I could well have trodden on her tail. For example, my egress from the toilet was fraught with danger. Silently she would sit preening in the doorway and when I turned after my business she could have been kicked (not on purpose) into next week, or a tail could have been stood on, or I could have seen her in mid stride and gone headlong into the fridge door opposite unable to stop myself.

Most of my posts were done in the wee small hours, between peeing and coffee. This morning I got coffee before I began posting, didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s fiasco. I finally returned to bed about 2:30, couldn’t sleep, just cogitated and listened to the ping of email notifications, so at 3:00 I was up again at the keyboard with more coffee. Finally going back to bed around 5…

I had finally cleared my backlog of comments to reply. A couple remain, for example, I am wondering if a visit to a post about travelling women dealing with menstruation, would this post be of benefit to me? One is a comment on another blog, that has given me an idea for a Monday Moaning post on Eco-Crap.

In my efforts to be a little healthier, last week I bought a steamer bowl, one that fits into a saucepan. I have never steamed veges before at home; my mother used to in later years. Last night, I steamed some cauliflower, pumpkin and a few cabbage leaves, while the potatoes boiled underneath.

I don’t know if I feel healthier, but it did save washing multiple saucepans.

Vladimir Seagol

Vladimir Smeagol

Russia banned Polish apples, the Poles got cheap apples. Now Scotland is banned from sending herrings, maybe  the Scots get cheep fish.

Horrible little gremlin!

That about does it.

The noise from the botequim is too much to bear.

I shall go and help them.

Later.

Sunday Travel Tales

Lake Titicaca

Puno, Peru

In 1999 I was in Puno working as a dog’s body for one of the local travel agencies that ran tours out on to Lake Titicaca visiting the Uros (floating islands), Taquile and Amantani as well as tours to the chullpas (burial tombs) at Sillustanti. My main job was the development of a restaurant for the agency catering for tourists, the other stuff, meeting tourists at their hotels, sending them off on their tours at the port, and occasionally getting out on to the lake itself to visit Taquile Island, a place I love.

But this story is about a ghost. While I was at the port one morning, I heard a loud ‘chuff come from behind’. I was alerted. Silence, then another ‘chuff’. It suddenly dawned on me exactly what I had heard, it was the sound of a boiler coming to life. More silence, then another ‘chuff’.

I ran up the wharf to the bus and grabbed my camera and ran back. In those days I was still able to run.

The first signs of life "Chuff!" and smoke rose from the smokestack

There on the mooring across the way was an old steam boat. “Chuff!” and a cloud of smoke left the smokestack.

I was watching a ghost come to life. The Yavari hadn’t moved under it’s own steam in 40 years. I had heard they were restoring and rebuilding her, but apart from that, I knew nothing. “Chuff!” louder and stronger, more haunting, less silence and then “Chuff!” The chuffs got closer and soon, about an hour later, she was building up steam.

I was watching history.

The Yavari returning to port after its first trial

Eventually the Yavari threw off its moorings and was off sedately around Puno Bay. I guess it was about an hour later, she came back to her moorings.

The above photos were ones that I had managed to salvage from an old HD where I had scanned the old negatives, the quality is poor, but it’s real.

You can read more of the Yavari story

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