The Second Saga: Part Ten

First gentle reader, a word or three about...Knick Knacks. The fondness for knick knacks is, of course, difficult to explain without a little delve into their history. Variously known as Ornaments, Object d’art and Dust Catchers the Knick Knack has been with us for many years and they have always been fairly rubbish. That is not to say that they don’t have some uses, after all what else would you give people you dislike for wedding presents? And no trip to the seaside is complete without the purchase of a souvenir, made in China of course. Right, that’s enough history.

The Tosk affection for the Knick Knack runs along different lines entirely. For the Tosk, the acquisition and collection, not to say hording of these objects speaks to the deep seated need to have “something to pass on”. This is not in any way linked to wealth as most of the objects have little or no intrinsic value, instead it is a matter of ownership, of having and of course to be seen to have. There is an old Tosk saying which goes; “If ye dinna hav’ a Knick, ye dinna hav’ teh Knack”, even their greatest poet, Bobbie Streams, alludes to them in his work; “...but to see them is to love them, love but them, and love forever...”... I hope that helps.

The afternoon went much as Oggin feared it would, he was dispatched to fetch the knick knacks from Kajoa’s room, various cupboards and storage spaces, one at a time and took them into the sitting room. There, Kajoa would order their placement on the shelf, followed by their re-placement, in a different place, at least twice each. She would sit on the sofa, walk around the room and even slowly walk out the door, almost looking up but not quite, then back in again, checking that the ‘best’ pieces were on show in the ‘best’ places. For Oggin the whole exercise seemed to last forever, he just couldn’t understand why she had to change this one with that one, sometimes over and over again. Of course, he knew better than to pass comment, he liked a peaceful life far too much. Finally, after a couple of hours, Kajoa announced she was satisfied and Oggin thought he could breathe a sigh of relief, he was wrong. Just as he was about to avail himself of a mug of tea and a sit down Kajoa blurted out.

“Yon crockity pot....Ah forgot yon broon pot...so ah deid....Go’an fetch it hen....ah’ll put it onna yon wee table furr noo....”

Oggin slopped off and got the pot and placed it on the small corner table, naturally it wasn’t quite right so Kajoa elbowed him out of the way and turned it three inches, which made all the difference, apparently. As she stood hands on hips, admiring the pot, Oggin slipped out and crept to the kitchen in search of tea and some rest for his back and legs.

“Thas a good i’dea  hen....I’ll hovv one an’all.....” she said without turning round.

“Of course my Tiger Lily....” replied Oggin, wondering if she had eyes in the back of her head.

Kajoa joined him and the two just sat watching the sun start to go to rest for the night. With a sigh, Kajoa sat up and spoke.

“Wid ye fancy a carry’oot the night hen...al’a yon movin’ has me fair ‘nacked so it has...”

“If you like my flower....what would you like to have....?”

“I’m no fussy....jus’ get me a double a whit’ever you arr havin’.....am fair famished so I am byraway...”

“Your wish is my command my rose bud....I shall button my sleeves and pop over the way.....”

“Right enough....I’ll put oot the plates an’ stuff....off ye go...an’ nae tak’kin’ tae strange women.....”

Oggin buttoned his shirt sleeves back in place, as it had gone a little cool outside and set off to Patel’s Pie and Mash shop. As he walked it occurred to him that something was not quite right, he felt he was being set up for something but couldn’t figure out what. Being Finntend, around supper time, the shop was crowded and Oggin had to wait awhile to get served. Jimmy Patel and his brother Brian were workin hard behind the counter and before too long Oggin stood back outside holding the customary paper carrier bag with the customary steam going up his sleeve. Jimmy had sold out of Oggin’s favourite pie, Squirrel and Parsnip, so he’d gone for the Stoat and Swede pie instead but the Rosemary butter Mash would still go well with it. When he walked back in the kitchen door, Kajoa wasn’t there but three plates were, two “best” plates and one old one, instinctively he knew which one was for him.

Kajoa came into the kitchen, dressed in her best tartan trews and her best green wool jumper. She also wore a look of guiltless total innocence, which they both knew meant Oggin was screwed.

“Have we got visitors darling....?”

“Is’at Squirrel an’ Parsnip pie then hen....?”

“No my little snow drop....its Stoat and Swede....and do we have visitors...?”

“Oh....aye...so it is...di ya forget the mash hen, byraway....?”

“Not at all...dearest....Rosemary butter.....the visitors....?”

“Aye...wiel.....jus afte you wen te the pie shop....aye ...jus afte mind...ah ‘membered ah’d as’t the Mammie te hov’ supper wie us...right enough....byraway...”

“That would be just after you requested three meals from the pie shop then....just after....by the way...”

“Aye...right enough....noo, ah’ll tak these in’te the Mammie...an’ youse can eat your’n here....mak sure te come an’ say a hi te the Mammie wen’you’ve done mind....”

“Of course my fragrant snapdragon....why would I do else...the chance form some sophisticated discourse with the Mammie.....”

At that point a loud shout came from the sitting room.

“Where’s yon feckin’ scran...ah’m fair feckin’ fadin’ away here ya ken....!”

“Jus’ comin’ noo...” answered Kajoa, “hoad yer wheesht.....”

Oggin watched her disappear toward the other room and then sat down with a sigh, it all became clear now, the whole thing was a ruse to cover the arrival of The Mammie and in turn, she had been summoned for the sole purpose of admiring the Knick Knacks. This inevitably meant that he would be expected to hover around lifting down various items for closer inspection and fetch tea or worse, drinks. The anticipated and longed for ‘quiet evening’ was about to evaporate in a haze of alcohol and knick knacks and loud, unintelligible conversation.....And so it was.