herself has fled scotland's green shores and...
i find myself in dire need of some positive thinking ...
when you sleep alone
consider the joys
of a double bed
when you sleep alone
and remain unwed
free to stretch
to wriggle and squirm
to twitch and thrash
to toss and turn
pile on the covers
or toss them aside
when you sleep alone
there is no one to chide
talk in your sleep
snuffle or sneeze
your bed is your own
to do as you please
if you happen to snore
you may never know
because there is no one
to tell you so
when you wake up
in the dead of night
no one will moan
when you turn on the light
if you eat in bed
if you watch tv
there are no complaints
there is no one to see
so never object
complain or groan
enjoy your bed
when you sleep alone
All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann
Friday, 19 October 2007
Thursday, 11 October 2007
finding loch lomond
a fine day...
exactly the kind of day on which to bundle ones sweetheart into the rav and ....
drive to loch lomond ...
not as far as loch ness (a place herself would really like to visit),i now feel a need to watch the carbon footprint on any trip. multimap have certainly curtailed my wanderings since they decided to include carbon footprint info along with requested directions.not that i'm complaining, mind ...saves me money and portrays me as more green than mean!
i checked out the route on my "map of the uk", seemed simple enough ...hmmmm
must have missed a turn off ... ended up driving in glasgow city centre with herself gazing at me in admiration. why admiration you may well ask? well damn ... did i or did i not stop and ask for directions, an act of extreme humility on my part. the instructions for escaping glasgow were simple enough... turn right, at the second set of traffic lights turn right again, follow the signs to loch lomond. oh yeah? i must have missed a set of traffic lights, we ended up heading back from whence we had just departed.
herself was growing slightly concerned, she remembers our trip to stonehenge - but that is another story....
at the next traffic light, herself wound done her window and in her inimitable bronx accent, informed the world and the cabby next to us that we were looking for dumbarton. dumbarton being a place on the route to loch lomond. the cabby, significantly impressed by herselfs sheer americaness,was stunned into being most helpful... twice stopping and leaping out of his cab to point out the correct way.
so ... now we were on the right route, signs everywhere pointing the way to dumbarton, the erskine bridge came into view ...great... we needed to cross the clyde river...
we crossed the bridge. the next road sign read greenock/irvine ...huh? we were on the wrong side of the clyde, we were heading west, we were a damn sight closer to home than we were to loch lomond!
now, i will tell the truth and shame the devil ... i am damn good at becoming lost, one might even look to me as some kind of expert in the art of arriving elsewhere...
this loch lomond lark was a fish of another sort, even herself feels that we entered some type of alternate universe in order to end up where we did!
did we ever find loch lomond...no! but i did locate a castle for herself to admire, unfortunately it was closed to the public, some scottish castles close for the winter. but we walked up to it, admired it, wondered how old it might be. it was next to the water, we walked on a rather less than robust wooden pier, out into the clyde.it was beautiful, one of those magical moments lovers are fortunate to enjoy.
we bought sandwiches at an m & s, and crisps and chocolate puddings in plastic cups. we parked the car and enjoyed a picnic lunch looking out over the firth of clyde.
the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond will have to wait for another day...
exactly the kind of day on which to bundle ones sweetheart into the rav and ....
drive to loch lomond ...
not as far as loch ness (a place herself would really like to visit),i now feel a need to watch the carbon footprint on any trip. multimap have certainly curtailed my wanderings since they decided to include carbon footprint info along with requested directions.not that i'm complaining, mind ...saves me money and portrays me as more green than mean!
i checked out the route on my "map of the uk", seemed simple enough ...hmmmm
must have missed a turn off ... ended up driving in glasgow city centre with herself gazing at me in admiration. why admiration you may well ask? well damn ... did i or did i not stop and ask for directions, an act of extreme humility on my part. the instructions for escaping glasgow were simple enough... turn right, at the second set of traffic lights turn right again, follow the signs to loch lomond. oh yeah? i must have missed a set of traffic lights, we ended up heading back from whence we had just departed.
herself was growing slightly concerned, she remembers our trip to stonehenge - but that is another story....
at the next traffic light, herself wound done her window and in her inimitable bronx accent, informed the world and the cabby next to us that we were looking for dumbarton. dumbarton being a place on the route to loch lomond. the cabby, significantly impressed by herselfs sheer americaness,was stunned into being most helpful... twice stopping and leaping out of his cab to point out the correct way.
so ... now we were on the right route, signs everywhere pointing the way to dumbarton, the erskine bridge came into view ...great... we needed to cross the clyde river...
we crossed the bridge. the next road sign read greenock/irvine ...huh? we were on the wrong side of the clyde, we were heading west, we were a damn sight closer to home than we were to loch lomond!
now, i will tell the truth and shame the devil ... i am damn good at becoming lost, one might even look to me as some kind of expert in the art of arriving elsewhere...
this loch lomond lark was a fish of another sort, even herself feels that we entered some type of alternate universe in order to end up where we did!
did we ever find loch lomond...no! but i did locate a castle for herself to admire, unfortunately it was closed to the public, some scottish castles close for the winter. but we walked up to it, admired it, wondered how old it might be. it was next to the water, we walked on a rather less than robust wooden pier, out into the clyde.it was beautiful, one of those magical moments lovers are fortunate to enjoy.
we bought sandwiches at an m & s, and crisps and chocolate puddings in plastic cups. we parked the car and enjoyed a picnic lunch looking out over the firth of clyde.
the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond will have to wait for another day...
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
the weather
in scotland, it rains, a lot. as summer retreats and winter invades ... it rains even more.
with herself about to spend time with me and the month being october ... i was worried. myself, i am not overly concerned with the weather but ... how would my new york muse react? herself is very fond of sunshine and not particularly fond of grey/ wet/ drizzle/ rain.
the day of her arrival i checked the bbc weather site for ayrshire ... ten day forecast ... ten days of cloud and rain!
but no, the weather gods have smiled on me and we have enjoyed days of warmth and sunshine. as in camelot ... it has rained at night!
with herself about to spend time with me and the month being october ... i was worried. myself, i am not overly concerned with the weather but ... how would my new york muse react? herself is very fond of sunshine and not particularly fond of grey/ wet/ drizzle/ rain.
the day of her arrival i checked the bbc weather site for ayrshire ... ten day forecast ... ten days of cloud and rain!
but no, the weather gods have smiled on me and we have enjoyed days of warmth and sunshine. as in camelot ... it has rained at night!
Monday, 1 October 2007
the departure
hah! today is the day. more correctly perhaps, tonight is the night. herself flies out from newark at 10.10pm on her way to glasgow.
newark being the most intriguing word in the above sentence.
why you might wonder? herself and i are old hands at flying between jfk and the uk, we are what you might call seasoned pros, cross atlantic flights hold no terrors for us. my lady lives but half an hour from jfk, an easy taxi ride, no problems.
when we first met i was residing in a small market town called buckingham, a mere toddle to drive to heathrow. of course myself can turn even this straight forward trip into something of an adventure. the first time my lady came to visit, i picked her up at heathrow and proceeded towards buckingham on the m25. as i remember i think her flight came in round about 11.00 pm. a little while into the journey herself indicated she might well be in need of a pit stop.i pulled in at the next services. herself visited the ladies and we enjoyed a cuppa.
it was a dark and stormy night, there are many entries and exits to these services. the uk is a nation of traffic circles and i am but an innocent south african unused to the complexities of travel in the civilized world. half an hour later, i started to wonder, the road seemed comparatively quiet and darker than usual. herself started to give me "the look" (my very first experience of said look!). "eryll, are you lost?"... of course not, i don't get lost, i sometimes take the scenic route. and then... drum roll ...i noticed the road sign. oh yeah, i was driving my honey home...via wales. whoops! a less than august start to my lady's first visit to my side of the pond!
of course, i have since moved (thoughtlessly!) to scotland. in pursuit of togetherness we now have to journey an extra leg ... heathrow/glasgow and vice versa. the extra flights are pestiforous, time consuming and expensive. herself, a highly educated lady decided it was time for some research. dicovery... there are two flights a week from newark, direct to glasgow. less expensive and no running from terminal to terminal at heathrow.
now ... and herein lies the crunch...herself must now catch a train into penn station and then catch another to newark and then take the sky train to the airport terminal.perhaps a little more complicated than her previous, half hour taxi trip to jfk.
the journey begins to assume the proportions of an epic adventure! do not giggle younger people! ourselves are no longer in the first flush of youth and my lady, unlike myself, has no nomadic leanings. she has spent the past thirty plus years living in ONE house, in ONE street, in ONE town. i realize you may find this fact hard to believe, but i swear it is the truth! so, after much thought and a trial run, the princess has decided to bring only one small bag, which she will carry on board, thus making the multiple train journeys a little easier.
however, tension still runs high, sleep evades my darling and her appetite is lost. please send positive vibes, white light and rainbows. let the journey be smooth and uncomplicated, then all i will have to do is...
spend the next two weeks reminding herself of why i am worth all the drama!
newark being the most intriguing word in the above sentence.
why you might wonder? herself and i are old hands at flying between jfk and the uk, we are what you might call seasoned pros, cross atlantic flights hold no terrors for us. my lady lives but half an hour from jfk, an easy taxi ride, no problems.
when we first met i was residing in a small market town called buckingham, a mere toddle to drive to heathrow. of course myself can turn even this straight forward trip into something of an adventure. the first time my lady came to visit, i picked her up at heathrow and proceeded towards buckingham on the m25. as i remember i think her flight came in round about 11.00 pm. a little while into the journey herself indicated she might well be in need of a pit stop.i pulled in at the next services. herself visited the ladies and we enjoyed a cuppa.
it was a dark and stormy night, there are many entries and exits to these services. the uk is a nation of traffic circles and i am but an innocent south african unused to the complexities of travel in the civilized world. half an hour later, i started to wonder, the road seemed comparatively quiet and darker than usual. herself started to give me "the look" (my very first experience of said look!). "eryll, are you lost?"... of course not, i don't get lost, i sometimes take the scenic route. and then... drum roll ...i noticed the road sign. oh yeah, i was driving my honey home...via wales. whoops! a less than august start to my lady's first visit to my side of the pond!
of course, i have since moved (thoughtlessly!) to scotland. in pursuit of togetherness we now have to journey an extra leg ... heathrow/glasgow and vice versa. the extra flights are pestiforous, time consuming and expensive. herself, a highly educated lady decided it was time for some research. dicovery... there are two flights a week from newark, direct to glasgow. less expensive and no running from terminal to terminal at heathrow.
now ... and herein lies the crunch...herself must now catch a train into penn station and then catch another to newark and then take the sky train to the airport terminal.perhaps a little more complicated than her previous, half hour taxi trip to jfk.
the journey begins to assume the proportions of an epic adventure! do not giggle younger people! ourselves are no longer in the first flush of youth and my lady, unlike myself, has no nomadic leanings. she has spent the past thirty plus years living in ONE house, in ONE street, in ONE town. i realize you may find this fact hard to believe, but i swear it is the truth! so, after much thought and a trial run, the princess has decided to bring only one small bag, which she will carry on board, thus making the multiple train journeys a little easier.
however, tension still runs high, sleep evades my darling and her appetite is lost. please send positive vibes, white light and rainbows. let the journey be smooth and uncomplicated, then all i will have to do is...
spend the next two weeks reminding herself of why i am worth all the drama!
Wednesday, 26 September 2007
junk mail, scams and gorgeous girls
junk mail, scams and gorgeous girls
herself and myself were having one of our “rest” periods, a break. in other words ... i must have said something...ummm...tactless, stupid, hurtful.
i spent 36 years of my life happily married to a male of the species ... he had to deal with me, my ups, my downs, my moods, indeed the fact that i am woman. i must admit, i never really appreciated his balance, his innate ability to “fix” things, his patience. nope took the whole lot for granted!
what am i trying to say ...living with a woman ain't easy!
i thought it would be a walk in the park. two loving, sensitive women (and dare i mention the word...mature) involved in a transatlantic relationship. what could possibly go wrong , hah...the innocence of the uninformed.
i digress, back to the subject of this blog.
yeah ... rest period, which would mean....
“eryll, you can go to hell, i never want to lay eyes on you again, you are the most self unaware person i have EVER met, you are self centred, spoiled and selfish and don't bother to answer this email because i have blocked you!!!” omg how i love that woman...
so i would feel righteous and huffy for all of say ...24 to 36 hours and then i would retire to my computer to write of my broken heart, my agony, my loss...
when i ran out of words, i would resort to trawling various lesbian dating sites, my two favourites being ... match.com and pink sofa.
and then i came across, let's call her sofia... her photo was, beautiful, she looked like a film star and she had winked at me, she wanted to chat! i decided that being dumped and single was not all bad, beautiful girls were chasing my rather wrinkled “middle aged” self. we chatted, she liked my look, she had grown up in france and was now a model in london, sofia wanted my name, my address, my everything. now i may be gullible but i am not an innocent, sofia was too good to be true and i don't give out my personal information to strangers. even i realized ... sofia might be a man, a naughty school child, a con artist. so, i high tailed it out of the chat room and that was that, except for the fact that sofia had my real, actual email address. sucker!
i started to experience “the nigerian scam”, government officials from african countries begged me to allow them to deposit huge amounts of money in my bank account. dear old, titled ladies, dying of cancer, with no kin to leave their fortune to... begged me to accept their monies...they trusted that i would distribute above mentioned funds to worthy causes. I have won so many lotteries, i have lost count, yahoo and microsoft contact me to inform me that today is my lucky day, their computers have chosen me and i am rich. my favourite by far is paypal asking me to confirm a payment, that one looks so official i almost forgot that i don't have a paypal account. oh yes, the bait was sweet but the hook is painful! but was that the end of my naivety, i guess not.
my lady is a writer and she travels no where without her lap top, said computer is so well used that numbers and letters have worn away. this aged lap top, this faithful companion... is tired. herself would very much like a new computer but unfortunately she finds herself with more pressing demands on her purse. the purchase of a new computer becomes a pretty low priority. so there i was wandering around cyber space when .... up popped a sign... you have won a laptop, press here to choose which of the three you would prefer. yeah, i know, big time sucker! these scams use our own greed against us and i was greedy to present my lady love with a new computer. what harm is there any way, in pressing a few buttons, answering a few questions ... well worth a bash in pursuit of a free laptop. well, i kept answering questions and pushing the “next” button until i finally realized i had not won, there was no prize ...sigh. “no such thing as a free lunch, nothing for nothing” the words of my youth mocked me. now, it appears the whole world owns my email address! no need for me to buy expensive american drugs, the canadian pharmacy will supply all i need. would i like a bigger cock, longer lasting erections, large breasts. the emails pile themselves into my inbox, pretending to be from private people and reputable businesses. i am told i must need pirating equipment, fake rolex watches, a get rich quick idea, the list is endless. an unstoppable avalanche, between 50 and 100 a day!
a word from the recently wiser, avoid good looking women and free gifts. the way to hell is paved with unsolicited emails.
herself and myself were having one of our “rest” periods, a break. in other words ... i must have said something...ummm...tactless, stupid, hurtful.
i spent 36 years of my life happily married to a male of the species ... he had to deal with me, my ups, my downs, my moods, indeed the fact that i am woman. i must admit, i never really appreciated his balance, his innate ability to “fix” things, his patience. nope took the whole lot for granted!
what am i trying to say ...living with a woman ain't easy!
i thought it would be a walk in the park. two loving, sensitive women (and dare i mention the word...mature) involved in a transatlantic relationship. what could possibly go wrong , hah...the innocence of the uninformed.
i digress, back to the subject of this blog.
yeah ... rest period, which would mean....
“eryll, you can go to hell, i never want to lay eyes on you again, you are the most self unaware person i have EVER met, you are self centred, spoiled and selfish and don't bother to answer this email because i have blocked you!!!” omg how i love that woman...
so i would feel righteous and huffy for all of say ...24 to 36 hours and then i would retire to my computer to write of my broken heart, my agony, my loss...
when i ran out of words, i would resort to trawling various lesbian dating sites, my two favourites being ... match.com and pink sofa.
and then i came across, let's call her sofia... her photo was, beautiful, she looked like a film star and she had winked at me, she wanted to chat! i decided that being dumped and single was not all bad, beautiful girls were chasing my rather wrinkled “middle aged” self. we chatted, she liked my look, she had grown up in france and was now a model in london, sofia wanted my name, my address, my everything. now i may be gullible but i am not an innocent, sofia was too good to be true and i don't give out my personal information to strangers. even i realized ... sofia might be a man, a naughty school child, a con artist. so, i high tailed it out of the chat room and that was that, except for the fact that sofia had my real, actual email address. sucker!
i started to experience “the nigerian scam”, government officials from african countries begged me to allow them to deposit huge amounts of money in my bank account. dear old, titled ladies, dying of cancer, with no kin to leave their fortune to... begged me to accept their monies...they trusted that i would distribute above mentioned funds to worthy causes. I have won so many lotteries, i have lost count, yahoo and microsoft contact me to inform me that today is my lucky day, their computers have chosen me and i am rich. my favourite by far is paypal asking me to confirm a payment, that one looks so official i almost forgot that i don't have a paypal account. oh yes, the bait was sweet but the hook is painful! but was that the end of my naivety, i guess not.
my lady is a writer and she travels no where without her lap top, said computer is so well used that numbers and letters have worn away. this aged lap top, this faithful companion... is tired. herself would very much like a new computer but unfortunately she finds herself with more pressing demands on her purse. the purchase of a new computer becomes a pretty low priority. so there i was wandering around cyber space when .... up popped a sign... you have won a laptop, press here to choose which of the three you would prefer. yeah, i know, big time sucker! these scams use our own greed against us and i was greedy to present my lady love with a new computer. what harm is there any way, in pressing a few buttons, answering a few questions ... well worth a bash in pursuit of a free laptop. well, i kept answering questions and pushing the “next” button until i finally realized i had not won, there was no prize ...sigh. “no such thing as a free lunch, nothing for nothing” the words of my youth mocked me. now, it appears the whole world owns my email address! no need for me to buy expensive american drugs, the canadian pharmacy will supply all i need. would i like a bigger cock, longer lasting erections, large breasts. the emails pile themselves into my inbox, pretending to be from private people and reputable businesses. i am told i must need pirating equipment, fake rolex watches, a get rich quick idea, the list is endless. an unstoppable avalanche, between 50 and 100 a day!
a word from the recently wiser, avoid good looking women and free gifts. the way to hell is paved with unsolicited emails.
pillow talk
the air is crisp, the sun is shining and i am filled with joyful anticipation. on tuesday 2nd october, herself arrives at glasgow airport. it has been two long months since we were last together. in my book, one day apart is too long and sixty plus days is just ridiculous.
long distance affairs have their own perks and problems. one of the perks being the fervent emotions aroused by separation and distance. we have never quite managed to move into the mundane, the every day , because our time together is rare and therefore doubly precious.
the problems ... well i would never dare to speak for herself, so you will need only to endure my view point!
arguing over the phone or via email is big time dangerous! no eyes to read, no body language to understand. feeling slightly off, bit bitchy ... wanna make trouble? the long distance relationship is a quagmire of sinking sand, dip a toe in and before you know it you are eating grit girl. herself is a master of disengagement, when she is mad, well, she is mad....
communication zero!
i have written some of my best poems whilst grovelling and begging for forgiveness. three years together... i have learned, i don't look for trouble any more ... life's too short. plus... for me ... there is only herself. the woman of my dreams, the writer of tales, the mender of minds, my muse and my mentor. five foot nothing of fiery new yorker, italian extraction...could i ask for more.
when she talks about italian cheeses, omg it sounds like pillow talk.
long distance affairs have their own perks and problems. one of the perks being the fervent emotions aroused by separation and distance. we have never quite managed to move into the mundane, the every day , because our time together is rare and therefore doubly precious.
the problems ... well i would never dare to speak for herself, so you will need only to endure my view point!
arguing over the phone or via email is big time dangerous! no eyes to read, no body language to understand. feeling slightly off, bit bitchy ... wanna make trouble? the long distance relationship is a quagmire of sinking sand, dip a toe in and before you know it you are eating grit girl. herself is a master of disengagement, when she is mad, well, she is mad....
communication zero!
i have written some of my best poems whilst grovelling and begging for forgiveness. three years together... i have learned, i don't look for trouble any more ... life's too short. plus... for me ... there is only herself. the woman of my dreams, the writer of tales, the mender of minds, my muse and my mentor. five foot nothing of fiery new yorker, italian extraction...could i ask for more.
when she talks about italian cheeses, omg it sounds like pillow talk.
Friday, 21 September 2007
my choice
to have what i want
is what i most need
to make do with out
is frustration indeed
so what should i do
if the thing i desire
is as easy to grasp
as a handful of fire
acceptance, not easy
i like my own way
perhaps i should change
what i want for today
try something different
some what new and unique
if i change my mind
will i find what i seek
if i learn to want
the things which are mine
will i have what i need
will my life turn out fine
i think it is easier
to take life as it is
accept there aren't answers
cause life's not a quiz
remember to breath
to love and rejoice
how i feel each moment
is all my own choice
All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann
is what i most need
to make do with out
is frustration indeed
so what should i do
if the thing i desire
is as easy to grasp
as a handful of fire
acceptance, not easy
i like my own way
perhaps i should change
what i want for today
try something different
some what new and unique
if i change my mind
will i find what i seek
if i learn to want
the things which are mine
will i have what i need
will my life turn out fine
i think it is easier
to take life as it is
accept there aren't answers
cause life's not a quiz
remember to breath
to love and rejoice
how i feel each moment
is all my own choice
All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)