“Remarkable quite remarkable” said the captain reaching for the glass of sherry, he had learned his lesson previously and knew better the n poor Sophia to drink water for water it seemed only increased the pain one felt with in ones mouth after eating a curry. To the captain it seemed that the poor pigeon having died had been subjected to the cruelest of fates having fallen into the hands of a woman who believed herself to be the best cook in the world. However, it was in fact a dangerous weapon indeed, if the good woman had ever been a cook in the armies of Wellington or the navy of Nelson she would have been the most formidable weapon in Bonaparte’s grand army.
Never the less to preserve the duty placed upon him by society he continued to eat the poor bird for it would have been considered most offensive if he had not. As the newest member of Sir Thomas’s family it was incumbent upon him that he make a good impression upon the clergyman and his wife for the most reverend gentleman had always been most obliging to the Sterley’s when called upon to be of service to the family.
For it was well known that he had been instrumental of ridding Morton of the ghost of poor Lord John. To have in any way offended him in any way even to the extent of his wife’s efforts in the culinary field would it seemed be an insult to the good people of Notheringay.
Thus, on he soldered through the battlefield that was the dish much to the delight of the reverend gentleman’s wife who continued to make remarks and receive high praise from the brave captain.
After the mean Sophia had quite recovered while her brave husband refused the proffered custard pie saying, the curried pigeon was quite enough for him. Shortly thereafter, the Aubrey’s took their leave of the clergyman and his wife who stood upon the front step of the rectory enjoying the view as the coach made its departure the good woman waving to Sophia
due to her.
The women having left the room the two men were left quite alone with nothing much to say the reverend gentleman eyed the plate upon which Sophia had been feasting and then looked knowingly towards the captain. “I fear that the pigeon will be quite spoilt,” said the clergyman. Captain Aubrey perceiving that the older gentleman would show no mercy knew where his duty lay. Saying bravely “Well there is nothing for it I shall have to dispose of the bird and moved Sophia’s plate to his and begun to eat the dish.
The first bit of the dish had but a small effect upon the brave seaman for he had previously eaten curry while on active service in the Indies however he began to taste a certain discrepancy. It was at this moment that Mrs. James returned and took once more her seat. “I trust the pigeon is to your liking?” she enquired of the captain “Indeed a fragrant dish one of the best I have ever tasted,” the captain gasped as a sweat began to break from his forehead. “Pray what is its construction?” he asked of the woman.
“It must be soaked in the curry powder for a day and a half before certain other elements are added then boiled in a soup of water and oil,” replied the lady. This was indeed a surprise to the good navy man for he had never heard of the dish been prepared like this and he knew his curries.
The Sterley’s of Oakland Park Chapter 40 (Sampler Chapter) Blog Entry No 2
“I am without a doubt the best savory’s maker that I know do you not think?” asked Mrs. James. “Indeed my wife is a dab hand at the making of sweet meat,” said the clergyman. “You must try my pigeon pie, said Mrs. James as she lifted the silver cover from the dish upon which lay a plump bird in a layer of congealed grave. “ It looks wonderful I shall have a piece,” said Sophia.
The reverend gentleman’s guests sat down to eat captain Aubrey having decided to forego the offered pigeon as he had heard much of Mrs. James’s custard pudding which was to be served later. In the meantime, he contented himself with a glass of port.
“I have seldom seen a dish with an aroma of such fragrance, said Sophia “ pray do tell me Mrs. James what is this fragrance for I have not come across it before?” asked Sophia as she placed the first forkful in her mouth.
“It is a Calcutta curry from India somewhat different to the fair we are used to, bit wholesome and good for a cold,” said Mrs. James. Sophia it seemed had grown quite flushed tears creased the corners of her eyes and a sweat broke upon her forehead.
“I fear that I am unwell,” she gasped, taking a sip of water from a glass near at hand. “Oh dear what is amiss Mrs. Aubrey you are quite red with exertion you must lay down I fear” said Mrs. James rising from her seat.
“Yes if I lay down I will recover,” said Sophia “Yes step this way there is a room where you can rest,” said Mrs. James “Later you can finish your dinner. I am quite surprised for just a moment ago you were quite well could it be that you have a little bundle to deliver?” asked Mrs. James. For she was a woman wise to the world and knew that young woman of Sophia’s age did with in a year after marriage bring forth bundles of joy. It gave her great pride that when in years to come the Captain would speak of the announcement of the arrival of their first-born would be
Blog entry no 1 – The Sterley’s of Oakland Park An introduction
The Sterley’s of Oakland Park written originally by the author in November 2007 as a parody of Jane Austen’s Pride and prejudice for the International writers month challenge. In which aspirant writers from all over the world take part in a month long challenge write a novel of 50 thousand words or more there is no real prize for this but it is a challenge in which writers get to sharpen their writing skills. The rules are simple 50 thousand words of original work to be written in a thirty-day period.
The story was written due to a previous short story about a small computer with a data base of Jane Austen’s writings been compiled and written into a small dos program. Which would then produce text documents with new stories, in the style of Jane Austen the short story was titled Jane 3.11 based on the databases activities of the computer.
The challenge for the author was to see whether he could emulate the style and wit of the Regency period and of Jane Austen who lived during this time.
The result is Oakland Park I refer to it as Oakland Park for connivance sake the full name of the novel is “The Sterley’s of Oakland Park a Historical Romance. Strictly speaking, Oakland Park is not a Romance in the classical sense it is a period piece.
We trust that the reads will enjoy reading Oakland Park; we would like to point out that a Dyslexic who comes from a long line of oral storytellers has written Oakland Park.
There may be grammatical errors and unusual spelling, further we would remind the reader that written English was not formalized until the mid to late 1700’s when Dr. Johnson wrote his big book of word. Thanks In particular his very good friend Mr. Chris, Milner of Canada who was a great help and advisor with regard to technical, historical aspects’ of the project and his continued friendship over the years.
21 February 2016
Port Elizabeth South Africa
“What is it woman? the young man had said in an abrupt tone. It was not that he disliked the old woman she had been part of the clan for as long as anyone could remember but of late she had been warning the highlanders not to take to the field of battle for surely the last great hope of Scotland was doomed according to her.
This everyone counted as strange as she had never said anything before this time and her propacies always seemed good before.
Looking up the old woman looked up and said Angus Mac Gieviy I tell you this home will not see you in this lifetime again for you are doomed to die and change live again but that life is not life you will not be alive but others will see you and you will know that even as you walk among the living you will be dead your soul is lost to the dark one” she concluded.
Away with you old woman yea are mad as a cow that has been smitten with the moon on midsummers eve the young man said.
“You will see the truth of my words she said as he motioned his horse and began moving down the road with the group of clansmen that he would lead to the battlefield. The old woman stood watching them disappear down the road before making the sign of the cross and turning once more to the village in the valley.
Now as he lay dying the old hags’ words came back to him he shivered and felt the approach of death fast in coming to take him away.
Just at the moment there was a rustling and the figures cloaked in night those of crones who follow armies arrived at his side.
Much to his surprised he was lifted bodily up into the arms of several of these strange women and carried through the night and placed in box on a wagon.
Angus Mac Gieviy passed away his last thoughts as a living man wondering who his strange deliverers were ….
If he but knew.
This thought would continue to haunt him down the centuries.
Dark Parody a New Novel By Sarejess
The Novel begins on the night after the battle of Culloden in April of 1746.
It Documents the life past present and future of a Jacobite and later Vampire Angus Mac Gieviy and in particular his adventures in the 21st Century.
And as he puts it on occasion. To be alive in the year 2016 unnatural strange that I born of woman in 1721 can still roam the night but never see this day.
The winds swept over the moor, the flickering embers of dying fires in the English camp glowed bright for a moment or two before fading.
The dead bodies of Scots clansmen lay on the field of battle the wind rising caused the remnants of the dead bodies flapping in the wind giving of a mournful sound to the night, somewhere in the night an owl hooted.
A group of his Majesties own dragoons stood pulling their cloaks a little closer as they stood around one of the few fires that still burnt brightly warming their hands talking softly they looked confident in their red cloaks but at the same time a little fearful.
There were many stories of strange things happening on the night after a battle.
In particular, the Scottish battlefields were notorious for ghosts and witches.
In the shadows near a small clump of trees a Scottish clansman lay dying surrounded by the shadows of the night occasionally fading in and out of consciousness the man thought of his home and his family, in particular he thought of the parting words with his father the laird Mac Gieviy.
“Yea will fight well for our bonny Prince or yea will die trying. He had said. Yes, Father I will the younger man had said.
The fire of zealous Jacobite hope burning brightly in both men’s eyes. As he was departing the hag Morag had stopped him.
“What is it woman? the young man had said in an abrupt tone. It was not that he disliked the old woman she had been part of the clan for as long as anyone could remember but of late she had been warning the