Saturday, 17 November 2012

“A dog’s a dog for a’ that”

It’s been a while but ah’ve been supervisin’ frost patrol and frankly ah’m knackered.  It’s no sae much the work (which Kyle does the maist o’) it’s more the management role – studyin’ the weather forecast, watchin’ the stars come out, waitin’ for the full moon (it’s ae at the full moon that ye get the clearst nights) and then makin’ sure the windmills are oan and the water’s flowin’ - it’s the lack o’ sleep.  Now ah’m a young dug, fit as a fiddle but it wears ye doon.  Ah’ve seen mornin’s where the sight o’ a petanque ball has gie’n me a real scunner.  No like me to not have a wee dribble wi’ the petanque ba’.

Ah’ve no idea why ah chose ‘a dogs a dog for a’ that’ as the title for this wee epistle.  But, y’know, some hooligan ripped the locks affa one o’ the toilet doors while ah wis oot an’ aboot entertainin’ the punters wi’ ma petanque.  So ah got tae thinkin’ what’s tha’ a’ aboot.  Ah kin’ unnerstan’ losin’ the place a wee bit if ye get stuck in the lavvy but that doesnae mean ye need tae clock the lock.  Ah don’t use the lavvy masel but, though I am quite punctilious about where ah goes.  Ah like a wee bit privacy and no’ tae be too disturbed though if there’s another dog aroun’ ah might have a wee sniff.  Aye, a dog’s a dog for a’ that.

Ma latest trick, which ah’m quite pleased about, is that ah’ve managed tae heave the petanque ball into the tasting area as required.  Ma’ nose is getting’ quite used tae the extra strain, and it’s no sae bad wance ye’ve got it o’er the wooden threshold at the door.  It’s great the way folks want tae play wi’ me tho’ ah must admit occasionally ah’m a wee bit worried that somewan’s gonnae clock me on the nut wi’ the heavy ba’

An’ huv ye heard that thon Sithifrikan winemaker has gone away back to where he came frae.  Aye, he’s up and offed – gotta new joab in some place cried Hermanus.  He’s been wi’ us seven years – nice big bloke, used tae throw petanque ba’s fur me an’ always made sure no’ tae clock me wi’ wan.  Ah’ll miss his dog Lana.  She’s no goin’ wi’ them – gonnygo some where local.  She’s a nice big dug, Rhodesian Ridgeback.  We used tae get on fine.  Ah’d walk unner her legs and nip her ankles – jus’ tae keep her interested.  Min’ you she wissnae much cop at petanque – too high aff the groun’.

So, there’s a wee bit o’ change in the air.  Summer’s comin’, the days are gettin’ longer, petanque season is here, James, the Chef’s taken aff his winter simmit and rolled up his sleeves.  He’s ready for a busy season in the café and ah’m primed tae entertain you during yer meal – wha’s like us?’ gie few, an’ there a’ deid.

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