Post by kannon on Jun 9, 2005 10:20:52 GMT -5
I sat in my study on the second floor of my temple. One of my favorite spots. The setting sun in the west played shadows across the floor. The evening breeze carried with it the scent of the cherry blossoms that grew near the temple. I was reading one of my favorite passages in the nirvana sutra. I was so rapt in the deep meaning of the sutra that I was nearly oblivious to the beauty of my surroundings…oblivious to everything but something that was the last thing I expected in the present surroundings…a singing picnic basket.
I had ignored it before. There it sat on the table next to me. One of those small red picnic baskets that can be obtained from the solen….and it was singing…
“What do we do with a drunkin sailor? What do we do with a drunkin sailor, early in the mornin’” …followed by an odd hiccup that was a cross between a belch, a hiccup and a screech. In fact it was a horrible sound. Now I know that I DIDN”T leave the basket there. The temple library is almost never visited by followers and my guess at who it was walked into the room just as I was about to peer into the basket…none other than Winston himself….my dog…sort of…well…his own dog really…he just sort of co-habitats…well not in that sense of the word…oh hang it all…you get the idea…
“Sup?” Winston said over a long resounding belch. A fact that was altogether remarkable because he said it through clenched teeth…teeth that now held a very large, and somewhat disturbingly familiar bone…
I turned to the door and Winston was still wearing the same pirate he had left with the day before.
“What on earth…”
“…heavens…” Winston interrupted…
“Yes…heavens…what in heavens name do you have in the basket?” I asked, somewhat irritated.
“A drunken snipe” came the matter of fact reply.
“A drunken snipe? Snipes can sing? I didn’t know snipes can sing?”
“Well, in fact, Winston replied, neither did I. However, it seems if you get a few drinks in a snipe she becomes the life of the party…hey at least Sarah is a fun drunk…could be a…”
“Don’t say it…” I said, suspecting the all too obvious.
“…a snippy snipe…” continued Winston.
“And why, may I ask? Is your pet snipe drunk?”
“Too much rum," came the reply.
“That I could have guessed! I snapped, rolling my eyes. I mean, where have you been with your snipe and what on earth is that in your mouth?”
“It’s a bone…Winston said, dropping the bone to the floor…Wow, you sure are a bit slow today aren’t you!”
I started to interrupt but Winston did his ‘talk over everyone else’ thing that he typically did when he has had a bit too much to drink. Winston was a bit of a boisterous drunk.
“…anyway, Winston continued, you know we said we were going to Buc’s den fel to watch those pirates try and blow each other out of the water with cannons? Well, we had a little picnic and one thing led to another and…well…drunken snipe…”
“You had a picnic at a battle between two pirate ships? I exclaimed, somewhat aghast. Why you bloodthirsty little cuss…”
“…cur, Winston interrupted, bloodthirsty cur. If you are going to insult me get the term right.”
“How did you manage to have a picnic at a naval battle?”
“Well, Winston said with a huff, at first we rowed and rowed around both of the boats and couldn’t find anywhere to get on either ship….have you ever tried to row with paws? Of course you haven’t…you don’t have paws…well take my word for it…its difficult…darn difficult. Anyway, just as were about to give up each ship landed a direct hit on the other. The cannonball tore right through the side rail of the ship and left debris everywhere. We…we being Sarah the Snipe and I of course…we rowed on over…did I mention it was difficult to row with paws…(here Winston interrupted his monologue with a thunderous belch)…”
“Yes” I said, trying to force myself into patience, “You mentioned that it is hard to row a boat with paws. Please continue…”
“Anyway, Winston said over another belch, we rowed on over, we of course being…”
“Yes, I know!” I snapped, “You is Sarah and you…will you just get on with the story!”
“Wow, aren’t we touchy today, continued Winston, anyway, we rowed on over expecting to get right up next to the boat. ‘Who is going to notice a dog and a snipe in the midst of battle?’ we figured…anyway…just as we are approaching the first pirate ship the dinghy stops about 20 feet from the ship. It turns out there was this little shoal right next to the boat that you can actually walk on to. There was so much debris it made this little island sort of so…we figured…what the heck? Why not stop and have a little bite to eat?”
“So where did you get the rum?” I asked.
“Well, said Winston as yet another long belch ripped out of his mouth with such force it flapped the sides of his muzzle…wow, he interrupted himself this time, I think I tore something with that one eh? Anyway…what with the heat of the battle and all the explosions, here comes this case floating by, it turns out that it is a case of rum!”
“That still doesn’t explain the largish bone you had in your mouth when you came in.”
“Well, it’s a leg bone.”
“That’s disgusting!” I growled, turning peering over the table at the bone; “I don’t think I want to hear the rest of this story!”
“Hey, Winston said, I will do the growling around here thanks, Well, you will want to hear the rest of this one.”
I had learned enough from past experience, that when Winston knew something I didn’t it was something good; and so I let him continue.
“Like I said, it’s a leg bone…”
“Yes, I said, I know that, you said that much, where did it come from?”
“From a sailor.”
“Oh my….now it was my turn to interrupt myself…you didn’t kill a pirate did you?”
“Heck of course not, Winston said sternly. I may be a boisterous drunk, I may sometimes be a mean drunk, but I am never…NEVER…ever a STUPID drunk. No a pirate threw the bone at me.”
“He threw a bone at you?”
“Sure, he threw his leg bone at me,” Winston replied matter-of-factly.
“His own leg bone?!”
“Sure, he wasn’t using it at the time, Winston continued…well he was when he threw it at me…then he was using it…but before then…THEN he wasn’t using it. After all, what use does a skeleton have for a leg bone when he is already chained to the mast of a pirate ship?”
“Why did he through the leg bone at you,” I sighed.
“I think he was trying to get my attention.”
“Why?, I asked, …dragging a story out of you is like trying to pull teeth!” I said, curtly.
“Yah, Winston said, ain’t it the truth. And you know what? I enjoy ever minute of it and you have to listen because otherwise…”
“Just get on with it!” I yelled.
“Well, Winston said with a huff, he was trying to get my attention because he wanted to tell me something. I think he originally wanted it to be all mysterious and stuff like that…you know…skeleton hanging from the mast of a pirate ship…but I just ignored him. So eventually he gets frustrated, grabs his own leg bone and throws it at me.”
“Then he got your attention?” I asked.
“Well, sure Winston said, If you were hit in the muzzle with a leg bone, let alone hit in the muzzle by a leg bone thrown by a dead pirate wouldn’t it get your attention? Of course it would…well…it would probably get your attention for no other reason than you found you had a muzzle because your not a dog, and I am but…well…”
“GET ON WITH IT!” I screamed.
”Sheesh, Winston said, calm down. Anyway, he told me a clue, a rhyme sort of, on where to find the dragons eye!”
“Which one?” I asked , excitedly.
“Does it matter?, Winston said, anyway, don’t you want to know the rhyme? Of course you do, Winston said, without waiting for a response…so. This is it. ‘If you seek the dragons temple, and sought in vain, the answer’s simple. There are tales the dead do tell. Don’t look in tram, don’t look in fel.’”
“That doesn’t rhyme.”
“What!” This time Winston snapped at me.
“It doesn’t rhyme., I said. The meter is off. Besides, you said it was a clue to the dragons eye.”
“Look, Winston said with irritation, what do you want Longfellow? This guy gives you a clue and you are worried about the meter of the rhyme? Wow. Give a dead guy a break. He’s probably been hanging on that mast at least the last 50 years, and his main concern is more than likely how to get down off the STINKING MAST! You’re worried about the meter? And not to mention just where do you think a dragons eye is going to be located except in a dragon temple!”
“But…” I interrupted, but was saved any further humiliation at the hands, or paws in this case, of Winston my own dog, by the sound of a drunken snipe, whose screech drowned out both of our voices…”
“THAT’S WHAT YOU DO WITH A DRUNKEN SAILOR EARLY IN THE MORNING!”
I had ignored it before. There it sat on the table next to me. One of those small red picnic baskets that can be obtained from the solen….and it was singing…
“What do we do with a drunkin sailor? What do we do with a drunkin sailor, early in the mornin’” …followed by an odd hiccup that was a cross between a belch, a hiccup and a screech. In fact it was a horrible sound. Now I know that I DIDN”T leave the basket there. The temple library is almost never visited by followers and my guess at who it was walked into the room just as I was about to peer into the basket…none other than Winston himself….my dog…sort of…well…his own dog really…he just sort of co-habitats…well not in that sense of the word…oh hang it all…you get the idea…
“Sup?” Winston said over a long resounding belch. A fact that was altogether remarkable because he said it through clenched teeth…teeth that now held a very large, and somewhat disturbingly familiar bone…
I turned to the door and Winston was still wearing the same pirate he had left with the day before.
“What on earth…”
“…heavens…” Winston interrupted…
“Yes…heavens…what in heavens name do you have in the basket?” I asked, somewhat irritated.
“A drunken snipe” came the matter of fact reply.
“A drunken snipe? Snipes can sing? I didn’t know snipes can sing?”
“Well, in fact, Winston replied, neither did I. However, it seems if you get a few drinks in a snipe she becomes the life of the party…hey at least Sarah is a fun drunk…could be a…”
“Don’t say it…” I said, suspecting the all too obvious.
“…a snippy snipe…” continued Winston.
“And why, may I ask? Is your pet snipe drunk?”
“Too much rum," came the reply.
“That I could have guessed! I snapped, rolling my eyes. I mean, where have you been with your snipe and what on earth is that in your mouth?”
“It’s a bone…Winston said, dropping the bone to the floor…Wow, you sure are a bit slow today aren’t you!”
I started to interrupt but Winston did his ‘talk over everyone else’ thing that he typically did when he has had a bit too much to drink. Winston was a bit of a boisterous drunk.
“…anyway, Winston continued, you know we said we were going to Buc’s den fel to watch those pirates try and blow each other out of the water with cannons? Well, we had a little picnic and one thing led to another and…well…drunken snipe…”
“You had a picnic at a battle between two pirate ships? I exclaimed, somewhat aghast. Why you bloodthirsty little cuss…”
“…cur, Winston interrupted, bloodthirsty cur. If you are going to insult me get the term right.”
“How did you manage to have a picnic at a naval battle?”
“Well, Winston said with a huff, at first we rowed and rowed around both of the boats and couldn’t find anywhere to get on either ship….have you ever tried to row with paws? Of course you haven’t…you don’t have paws…well take my word for it…its difficult…darn difficult. Anyway, just as were about to give up each ship landed a direct hit on the other. The cannonball tore right through the side rail of the ship and left debris everywhere. We…we being Sarah the Snipe and I of course…we rowed on over…did I mention it was difficult to row with paws…(here Winston interrupted his monologue with a thunderous belch)…”
“Yes” I said, trying to force myself into patience, “You mentioned that it is hard to row a boat with paws. Please continue…”
“Anyway, Winston said over another belch, we rowed on over, we of course being…”
“Yes, I know!” I snapped, “You is Sarah and you…will you just get on with the story!”
“Wow, aren’t we touchy today, continued Winston, anyway, we rowed on over expecting to get right up next to the boat. ‘Who is going to notice a dog and a snipe in the midst of battle?’ we figured…anyway…just as we are approaching the first pirate ship the dinghy stops about 20 feet from the ship. It turns out there was this little shoal right next to the boat that you can actually walk on to. There was so much debris it made this little island sort of so…we figured…what the heck? Why not stop and have a little bite to eat?”
“So where did you get the rum?” I asked.
“Well, said Winston as yet another long belch ripped out of his mouth with such force it flapped the sides of his muzzle…wow, he interrupted himself this time, I think I tore something with that one eh? Anyway…what with the heat of the battle and all the explosions, here comes this case floating by, it turns out that it is a case of rum!”
“That still doesn’t explain the largish bone you had in your mouth when you came in.”
“Well, it’s a leg bone.”
“That’s disgusting!” I growled, turning peering over the table at the bone; “I don’t think I want to hear the rest of this story!”
“Hey, Winston said, I will do the growling around here thanks, Well, you will want to hear the rest of this one.”
I had learned enough from past experience, that when Winston knew something I didn’t it was something good; and so I let him continue.
“Like I said, it’s a leg bone…”
“Yes, I said, I know that, you said that much, where did it come from?”
“From a sailor.”
“Oh my….now it was my turn to interrupt myself…you didn’t kill a pirate did you?”
“Heck of course not, Winston said sternly. I may be a boisterous drunk, I may sometimes be a mean drunk, but I am never…NEVER…ever a STUPID drunk. No a pirate threw the bone at me.”
“He threw a bone at you?”
“Sure, he threw his leg bone at me,” Winston replied matter-of-factly.
“His own leg bone?!”
“Sure, he wasn’t using it at the time, Winston continued…well he was when he threw it at me…then he was using it…but before then…THEN he wasn’t using it. After all, what use does a skeleton have for a leg bone when he is already chained to the mast of a pirate ship?”
“Why did he through the leg bone at you,” I sighed.
“I think he was trying to get my attention.”
“Why?, I asked, …dragging a story out of you is like trying to pull teeth!” I said, curtly.
“Yah, Winston said, ain’t it the truth. And you know what? I enjoy ever minute of it and you have to listen because otherwise…”
“Just get on with it!” I yelled.
“Well, Winston said with a huff, he was trying to get my attention because he wanted to tell me something. I think he originally wanted it to be all mysterious and stuff like that…you know…skeleton hanging from the mast of a pirate ship…but I just ignored him. So eventually he gets frustrated, grabs his own leg bone and throws it at me.”
“Then he got your attention?” I asked.
“Well, sure Winston said, If you were hit in the muzzle with a leg bone, let alone hit in the muzzle by a leg bone thrown by a dead pirate wouldn’t it get your attention? Of course it would…well…it would probably get your attention for no other reason than you found you had a muzzle because your not a dog, and I am but…well…”
“GET ON WITH IT!” I screamed.
”Sheesh, Winston said, calm down. Anyway, he told me a clue, a rhyme sort of, on where to find the dragons eye!”
“Which one?” I asked , excitedly.
“Does it matter?, Winston said, anyway, don’t you want to know the rhyme? Of course you do, Winston said, without waiting for a response…so. This is it. ‘If you seek the dragons temple, and sought in vain, the answer’s simple. There are tales the dead do tell. Don’t look in tram, don’t look in fel.’”
“That doesn’t rhyme.”
“What!” This time Winston snapped at me.
“It doesn’t rhyme., I said. The meter is off. Besides, you said it was a clue to the dragons eye.”
“Look, Winston said with irritation, what do you want Longfellow? This guy gives you a clue and you are worried about the meter of the rhyme? Wow. Give a dead guy a break. He’s probably been hanging on that mast at least the last 50 years, and his main concern is more than likely how to get down off the STINKING MAST! You’re worried about the meter? And not to mention just where do you think a dragons eye is going to be located except in a dragon temple!”
“But…” I interrupted, but was saved any further humiliation at the hands, or paws in this case, of Winston my own dog, by the sound of a drunken snipe, whose screech drowned out both of our voices…”
“THAT’S WHAT YOU DO WITH A DRUNKEN SAILOR EARLY IN THE MORNING!”