The Finching Machine

Posted in Finching Machine on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

‘Eep’ it went. ‘Eep Eep’ again.

‘What on earth is making that noise keith thought?

‘Eeeeeeeeeep’ it went again. This time just a teensy little bit louder and longer.

Keith looked down at the pavement and there was a little bird up to it’s beak in snow in the gutter. It had been snowing all night long.

The little bird was now looking intently at him and eeping away incessantly and loudly.

‘Ee-eep, Peep, eep eep eep’ it said.

‘Oh my God, it’s talking to ME’. He thought.

‘I don’t understand you little one’ he said back as if it could actually understand or reply.

‘Help me Keith’ it said.

‘Pardon’ came Keith’s shocked response.

‘Oh for God’s sake, will you help me. I’ve been here for a whole morning and no-one has fed me and I’m starving and up to my beak in snow’.

Keith was rooted to the spot with incredulity.

‘EEEEEEEP’ it shouted. ‘Are you going to help me or not’?

‘Er, ok’ came Keith’s hesitant reply. (Well it’s not everyday little finches talk to humans now is it?)

‘What is wrong with you’? it said as it tried to hobble or hop its way throught the snowy gutter. ‘Why won’t you help your partner’?

‘Partner’? said Keith.

‘Yes, partner’ came the reply. ‘It really is me’. said Bahkti. ‘I’ve been ‘Finched’. He said.

‘Finched’? asked Keith.

(’Oh God, this is going to take a long time’ thought Finch/Bahkti, with increasing annoyance)

‘Yes’, he snapped back. ‘Why do you think I look like this and am not at home as a human then’?

‘I wondered why you weren’t there this morning and thought you had gone to work or gone shopping and weren’t answering your mobile phone’!

‘I got up to go to the market and was walking through the market square to go to the bank machine and WHOOMP!

‘Whoomp’? said Keith.

‘Yes, Whoomp. It went dark and there was suddenly a whirring and a clicking and a whoomping and a boing and whallop and I was in the light again and I was a little bird’ said Finch/Bahkti.

‘What did it’? asked Keith, still in shock from talking to a bird (in English) with a hobble.

‘A Finching Machine’. snapped Finch/Bahkti.

‘A Finching Machine? enquired Keith hesitantly but trying to sound as it were a normal everyday occurence.

‘Yes, a Finching Machine. They are cat like in hunting their prey and they sneek up on things or people and leap on top of them from a great height and encompass them inside it and turn whatever they’ve jumped on, into a Finch’. (but keeping the thing’s redeeming features ie: a Mohican hair cut or a hearing aid, or a zimmer frame or curlers etc) Finch/Bahkti said.

‘You call a hearing aid or a mohican, a redeeming feature’? Keith enquired with a most puzzled tone.

‘Don’t start with me, just bloody feed me will you and we’ll talk about the finer details later’ Finch/Bahkti snapped back.

‘I’ll buy you a lard ball stuffed with seeds. How does that sound’? Keith offered sarcastically.

‘OO, a lard ball. I can’t remember the last time I had a lard ball. Nobody has ever bought me anything nice like a lard ball before’. said Finch/Bahkti. (as if it were the most normal thing in the world, never mind he was a bird and talking English). ‘OO, a lard ball, how divine’ he said.

‘Ok, come home with me and we’ll get you warm and I’ll pop out to the pet shop for lunch’.

So up hopped little Finch/Bahkti into Keith’s warm gloved hand and off they went home to get warm.


Don’t be fooled by The Timblids

Posted in Equities, Timblids on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

‘Did you know that my mum had to be rushed to hospital in 1989?’ Keith suddenly came out with.

‘Oo, what for darling?’

‘Her hand was slashed right open by a timblid’ he replied as a matter of fact.

‘How did it do it?’ I gasped in a shocked way.

It?’ said Keith in a cautious but quizzical way.

‘Yes! It!’

‘I think she was cooking and….’

‘It went for her’!! I volunteered.

‘What went for her?’

‘The Timblid’!

‘The what?’ Keith said.

‘The timblid’ came my nervous reply.

‘A timblid?’

‘Yes, a timblid’. ‘ Vicious little things, suddenly attacking people all unexpectedly’. Leaping out from cutlery drawers and medicine cabinets when you least suspect them’. I volunteered again.

Keith simply couldn’t understand what on earth I was telling him. Why should he? He’d never seen the nasty thing that did so much damage to his mother’s hand.

‘What on Earth are you going on about? he blurted out.

‘The timblid that attacked your mum and cut her hand. She’s lucky you know, it could have killed her in one quick shwoosh’.

‘NO! I said a Tin Lid, NOT a timblid‘. I think he was exasperated by this time.

‘Oh’ came my short reply. ‘I thought you said a timblid’.

‘Why would my mother by attacked by a timblid?’

‘Because they’re like that’.

‘Timblids’ he said.

‘Yes, vicious killers that hide in cutlery drawers and medicine cabinets and leap out of them when you least suspect them and that ride equities in to battle the way that men use horses in battle’.

‘I see’ said Keith, alll the while frowning in a what is he talking about kind of way crossed with this is going to be a long day sort of a way.

The day had just begun for Bahkti and Keith and one was going to have a longer day than the other it seemed.

The Singing Moo-Moo

Posted in Singing Moo-Moo, The End Of The World Garage on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

Yet another day, another strange event.

Here we were Keith and I walking down Hollow Lane, when we heard a very peculiar rustling behind us. We stopped, looking around behind us to see a big ‘thing’ wrapped in what appeared to be christmas paper.

‘What is it keith’?

‘How should I know’?. ‘I have no idea’!  came the response I wished that I hadn’t heard.  (Well, it was disconcerting to have someone tell you that they didn’t know that the large thing was that had been creeping along in a paper rustling, crunching sort of way behind you)

It looked vaguely like a cow.  We had a look at it closely and proded and poked it but that made it worse, as it made a weird sniffling ‘Ooo’ sound. Then with a very loud ‘OOooo’ sound it leapt in to life and started doing the strangest thing. It started singing and doing dressage. We leaped back in surprise, horror and giggles all at once. Could you imagine in your wildest dreams that a cow wrapped in christmas paper was following along behind you singing and doing dressage. (We simultaneously realised that it had been ‘Moo’ and not ‘OOooo’)

This day had certainly had taken an odd turn since leaving the house.

We started to run but that only seemed to either infuriate this singing moo-moo (well that’s what these things are called after all) or egg it on. In all of this flurry of prescribed moves (or should that be Mooves?) the christmas paper fell away to reveal the thing in its full glory.  We could only assume that the thing had been wrapped as a present for us. But the dressage was its very own idea to impress us with its agility and suppleness. (it did not impress us, more terrified, perplexed us) But what did really impress us was its singing voice. Have you ever heard a moo-moo sing opera? It was glorious.

And then it sank in! Oh God, we have yet another animal to go in to ‘The End of The World Garage’ along with the rest of the menagerie that had seemed to want us to look after them.

Bæda -The Feral Monk

Posted in The Feral Bede, The Venerable Bede, Time Machine on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

Sophia Arsenic Cladj was tinkering away in her laboratory in the University town of Oump in the Sminsk-Smir Republic on her time machine,  (Really a large radio that got crumbs inside it) when…..POUPH! back in England I suddenly found myself in a muddy vegatable patch with a what looked like a plain set of small churches near by.  What on Earth was going on?  I’d been doing the dishes back home in Hitchin in Hertfordshire, and now suddenly I was here in God alone knows where?  I must be dreaming?  This can’t be real?  All sorts of question came in and out of my mind; racing away and keeping me stuck to the spot where I found myself. I was jolted out of my incredulity by a voice shouting at me.

‘How! Yea! Gedoot me garden man’. Haweh man. Are yea listnin’ or wat’? Haweh, shift yersel man’.’Yer stannin’ on me kale’.

Oh lord. There was a middle aged man wearing a monk’s habit, and sporting a tonsure hair style like the old medieval monks and shouting at me. The language sounded familiar and different at the same time.

‘Yea alreet’?

‘Er yes thank you’. ( I had understood that at least)

‘Wat yea deein’ heeya’?

‘Oo, I’m sorry’. I said, stepping off the vegetables and on to a slightly less dirty  path next to them.

‘I don’t actually know. I was somewhere else and now I seem to be here. I don’t understand what’s happeing’?

‘Wat yea sayuh’? said the monk. He didn’t seem to understand me as much as I understood him. This was going to difficult to say the least.

‘Am not frum roond heeya’. I ventured tentatively in my own Geordie dialect. (it had been a while since I last had used it since moving down to the south of England)

‘Ur, ah git ya noo’.  Sooyah, where yea frum then’? he asked.

‘Am frum neeya St Alban’s. Me neyums Tony’.

‘Turnee yea sayuh’? he repeated.

‘Aye’. I replied. (This was getting easier) ‘Wat’s yor nayum then’?

‘Bæda’. He answered. (and in a tone as if I should have known)

‘Oh sweet lord’. I thought. ‘It’s the Venerable Bede’. Except he seemed a bit feral if you asked me.  Well, he wasn’t as clean as I would have liked or had expected of him. ‘Oh God’. I thought, and those buildings over there are The Monastery of St Peter & St Paul at Jarrow  in Northumbria and I’m not only in another space but in another time. No wonder it wasn’t too difficult to understand him. He was speaking the Northumbrian dialect of Anglo-Saxon. (Though I could have used Latin to converse with him just as well)

I suddenly  realised that I had no idea how this had happened or how on Earth I was going to get back home? Meanwhile back in Oump, Sophia Arsenic Cladj still hadn’t turned off her time machine.

NB. Bede didn’t know it yet, but he would go on adventures with a baby seal.

He’s sick!

Posted in Baby Seal, The End Of The World Garage on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

We hadn’t been on the bus for very long when it came to a sudden juddering halt.

‘What now’? I thought.

‘The bus driver has gone off to that old nursing home over there to try and get more petrol’. Keith said, as if were a natural occurrence.

‘We’ve got to go tell him that he won’t find any there’. I said indignantly.

‘We don’t need to. He’ll find out himself.’ Keith said.

‘No he won’t. He’s stupid’. And so off I went after the oaf of a bus driver.

‘Coo-ee’! Anyone there’? No one was there. ‘Strange’. I Thought. ‘Where is the driver,where are the staff and where are the old folks’? It was dark, dim, quite scary too as you’d expect the place to be full of life.

‘Oo-oo’. came a quiet, simpering and plaintive call.

‘What on earth sounds like that? I thought.

‘In here’. Came Keith’s welcome voice echoing around the nursing home.

I walked around slowly in the dim light, from room to room until I walked in on a small white tiled room to see Keith staring at the thing that had been making the noise. It was a small white baby seal in the far corner of the tiled room, trying to hide in the dim light; waving his flipper towards his mouth.

‘Ah, poor little thing. Just look at him. he’s so cute’. I whispered.

‘And not well either’. said Keith. ‘Just look at him. He’s got brown sauce coming out of his mouth’.

‘That’s not brown sauce. It’s gunk’. I added. ‘He’s not well, the poor thing’. He’s trying to get one of us to clean his mouth. That’s why he was waving his flipper’.

‘What is it’? Keith asked.

‘I don’t know, but we’ll have to look after him as there is nobody here to do that’. I told Keith.

‘We can’t’. Keith said in a resigned tone of voice that implied that we were going to take him home to be with the other animals in the ‘End of The World Garage’.

‘We can, we will and we are’. I ordered.

‘Ok’. said Keith, knowing full well that he was loosing the battle and had to give in yet again.

‘Do you want to go home with us’? I asked the baby seal as if he could understand me.

‘oo-oo’. came the response.

Keith and I were amazed at that response, but it was such a natural response and a welcome one to us and the baby seal.

‘Ok then,let’s go home then bonny boy’.

We picked up the little fluffy bundle of seal joy and headed back home on the suddenly now fully working bus.

I’ve been naughty

Posted in Donkey, The End Of The World Garage on October 14, 2010 by Bahkti

With alarming consistency, I woke up at the same time as I had done a few weeks earlier with the Cephalumpus Buy Day. (A bit like a birth day but the day you buy your pet)

‘I’ve been naughty’. I whispered.

‘What’? said Keith with a resigned tone of voice as if he was thinking Oh God, what now?

‘I’ve rescued The Donkey’. I said in a Why on earth doesn’t he understand me’ kind of way.

‘What donkey and where from’? keith responded.

‘From the church tower the Spanish were going to throw it from’.

‘Pardon’? keith said. (He is good at short questions)

‘They were going to throw it from a church tower dressed in a jellyfish costume during the festival and I just HAD to save it, the poor thing’. I offered as a way of a sane answer.

‘What’ said Keith (Here we go again he must have thought?)

‘They were teasing it and were going to sacrifice it’.


‘Because the Spanish are strange like that’.

‘The Spanish are strange’? said Keith.

‘Yes!. Just look what they do to potatoes’? I offered.

‘What on earth do they do to potatoes’?

‘They do Patatas Bravas’. I answered.

An incredulous silence hung over Keith.

‘Yes, they take the ordinary potato and make it interesting instead of just bland jacket potatoes or chips’.

‘Hm, I see’?  Said Keith, not really seeing at all. (Nor me for that matter)

‘And pray tell, where are we going to keep him’? said Keith.

‘Oh we can keep him safe in the garage’.

‘The garage’?

‘Yes. He’ll be safe from the Spanish and the end of the world too’! I emphatically replied.

‘The end of the world?

‘YES. The end of the world, and he’ll be safe and we can put the Cephalumpus in there too when it comes; and I’ll need to get one of those little tube heaters to take the chill off the air so that they are warm’.

‘Of course. It all makes sense’. Keith said in a sarcastic and quizical sort of a way.

‘He’ll be no trouble at all and he can be a good friend to the Cephalumpus and we could hire him out to shoppers to carry their shopping home in an ecologically friendly way instead of them using their cars’. (I do tend to talk a lot and fast and not breathe in between very very long sentences because I get so excited and carried away with myself)

‘OK. I’ll go get more food, though it’s going to have to be different from the Cephalumpus’s tidbits and morsels we feed him’.

‘Ok sweetheart’. I said very very happily and promptly fell back to sleep.