Monday, August 28, 2006


EVER-PRESENT SHAKESPEARE

I thought that in our remote fishing shack in Sutherland, 15 miles south of Cape Wrath, it would be possible to escape the bard. Wrong. Our gravity-fed [we have no electricity, so no pumps], oil-fired cental heating system is called Hamlet, made by some long-defunct Irish iron founder in the 1930's. Perhaps there's a whole family of boilers [the Ophelia, the Polonius, the Rosencrantz?]

Anyhow, when we arrived the boiler wasn't working. Unresponsive to exhortation, "Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off", Jennie and I had to clean it, a filthy job, as the attached picture proves. On the boiler lid it says, "Do not attempt to remove this lid when under fire" .

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