Westerly Gaels

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TO HEAVEN AND "BACK" !
One evening when, after a good dinner and some wine, I whispered in Ingela's ear. "Sweetie I'm going to take you to heaven and back". "And back" ! she said."Spoilsport" !

A "BIGGER" AGE DIFFERENCE
There was an 18 years age-difference between Ingela and me. This can hardly be a problem as long as both are in good health and it was never a problem for us mainly because we were very alike in both temperament and outlook. Well, doom to the rescue. One day, soon after we had got together in 1987 Ingela was curled up on the sofa and seemed deep in thought. I trallalahed into the living-room and noticed she wasn't her usual self."So what's up" said I. " I've been thinking" said Ingela. When I'm 60 years old you'll be nearly 90 years old and hardly recognise me. I got a little irritated. "Now look here airhead" said I. "I don't know how good you are at mathematics but when you're 60 I'll be 78 and most of the old people in my family have died in bed between 85 and 95 with a glass of whiskey and a packet of crisps in their hands. And what guarantee have you of reaching a good old-age anyway? She laughed when she realised she had got her sums wrong. We all got our sums wrong. She would never be more than 41 and 13 days old

THE MOTHER-IN-LAW
A distraught son-in-law, whose mother-in-law had been missing for a few days was sitting at home when a knock came at the door. A distraught neighbour told him that his mother-in-law had been found dead, washed-up on the beach. "Oh that's a reief", said the son-in law. "At least we now know where she is"

"AN IRISH DELICACY"
We were eating lunch the other day when we noticed that Alba, Teresa's Clumber bitch, was in the room. Normally we don't allow the dogs around us during meals because it's not fair on them and they are experts at psyching us. You can see their eager eyes watching every chewing movement, their heads going up and down in unison with our jaws.This reminded me so much of my childhood. My mother and I were sitting eating lunch in the kitchen. Mother was tucking into some lovely meat and I was drudging through some vegetable mush. Suddenly I asked mother if I could have some meat. "Meat is bad (expensive) for you" said she, gorging on another delicious sliver of succulent, tender beef. "Oh please, Mother" said I pleading. "Now look here young man, growing children need vegetables. Now eat up your Colcannon, it's an "Irish delicacy." Colcannon in those days, in our house, consisted of potatoes, cabbage, pepper and salt. My eyes and head went up and down watching this lascivious spectacle as her dodgy false-teeth dug into yet another piece of meat. She seemed to sigh in delight as her eyes looked upwards towards the heavens. In another age and with greater knowledge, I might have been forgiven for misinterpreting her euphoria. I still hate Colcannon and our Clumber Spaniels would never touch the stuff. Look up "Colcannon" on Google, You may get to like it.

INGELA, MY SAVIOUR
I hate meetings. Whenever we were at a meeting Ingela kept a weather-eye on me. I tended to day-dream. Suddenly, from nowhere I would latch on to a word or phrase which had caught my attention and then launch into, probably, an intelligent and certainly opionated tirade of ideas and suggestions. It was then I would hear the all-to-familiar and quite, chilly hiss from Ingela. "Oh my God, Brian, we covered that five minutes ago "

SIR JOHN GUILGUD
Sir John Gielgud, the famous Shakespearean actor was being interviewed on English tv when the name of another famous actor came up in conversation. "Oh him? said the great man rather haughtily, looking into the distance. "Yes, he was a rather mediocre actor so he had to work in America", said Gielgud, without batting an eyelid.

ONLY THE TICKING OF THE CLOCK
When, in 1987, Ingela and I discussed our thoughts and dreams for the future I remembered my idyllic early childhood in the south-west of Ireland. I lived with my granny Barnett in a small bustling fishing village in a rambling old house on the main street. I recall the smell of an antiquated paraffin heater whose main brief was to heat the big house. When the ladies dropped around for tea with my granny, they would, as they entered the main hall, exclaim, "Oh, Mary, isn't it lovely and warm" I really think they should have been saying "Oh Mary, isn't it lovely and smelly. There were of course, a few open fires which gave a little heat. Life was quiet and cosy and trouble-free in those days. Easy to say for a child who new nothing about the horrors of a war which had ended only a few years before. On the stair landing was a clock which sticks out in my memory. It was the only sound in the hallway. It was the hall ( plus the smelly heater ) Tick, tock, tick, tock, as most of them did in those days. I painted this lovely picture of harmony, quiet and happiness for Ingela and looking dreamily into her lovely face, I said, that the only noise in our happy home would be that of the ticking of the clock. I knew I had her. She looked up suddenly and without a pause said. "Wait a minute, Brian. I'm from the digital world and I hate ticking clocks, they keep me awake and the only sound I want to hear is Dave Bowie going bananas". I had fallen down the stairs once again in trying to create for her this wonderful vision of our future together. I had lost a battle but I was to win the war. The rest is history.

THE FOLDING OF THE SHEETS - THE GROUND RULES.
Early on in our relationship Ingela and I were in the laundry-room washing clothes like any couple must. We were folding sheets together. Now anyone who has folded sheets with another person knows that there are simple rules involved. If one person folds to the right so must the other. I, however was not concentrating nor interested enough, to fix this properly. After three failed attempts on Ingela's side to keep me on the job, she blew up. I hadn't before seen this side of her and suddenly woke up from my dreams of higher and more important things. I was sulky to see that she could put so much store in a mere task. I shouted something about priorities and left the room, slamming the door. I went back to my own apartment in a tizz. I couldn't believe that we should have an arguement about such a trivial thing. Before I go any further, I should like to say that anyone who makes a fuss about triviallities within earshot of me gets the cold shoulder. I was now trundling my way through central Gothenburg on a bike and working off steam. As I cooled down I knew I loved Ingela more than anything else. With that wonderfully romantic admission I would point out that on a good day I'm very pragmatic. I'm not a bossy person and I will also not tolerate being bossed around either There are a good number of ex-bosses around who are still quite clear on why they fired me. Right, I arrived home and sat down. "I'm not calling her", I said to myself several times, just to be sure. We'd had, after all, a lovely morning before the wash-room incident, A nice breakfast, planning things and laughing. Mind you the bacon was a bit salty. "I'm not ringing her" I said again a few times. Ok, I will. I rushed to the phone and was about to pick it up when it rang. "I just called to say I love you". It was Ingela singing the famous Stevie Wonder song in her wobbly contralto voice. It was the first of many times she would use this trick when there was a tiff. Of course being the softie I am I went all mushy and silly, which is how it should be. I took a taxi back to her place, a terrible extravagance for a student. Right to the real point -"the ground rules" I waited a few days until I was tired and hungry to tell Ingela of the only important rule which I required in a relationship and that she should also come with a suggestion. Oddly enough we both agreed on one cardinal rule. No petty irritation about each others small quirks should be tollerated whatsoever. I can report that on her death we had not once even discussed an irritation because there weren't any. There weren't any because we never created them, simple. This is not to say that we never had a tiff. We did now and again like anyone else. But that ground rule kept the ship afloat. As I revise this anecdote I can only say that we must have had an awful lot of luck as well. I afraid I know a few couples whose nourishment seems to be endless nagging. That is energy-consuming and good for nobody.

A LETTER TOO FAR
Like all ex-pats, my mother tongue and my adoptive language leave me open to error in two languages. It happened recently with a verb, where I had one consonant too many. No problems one might think! Not in Swedish, I'm afraid. Instead of writing about "squeaking" toys, I found myself alluding to toys which would be performing the act of "procreation" One of the more alert in the family reminded me of the consternation this might cause to the more sensitive of our readers. The offending extra consonant has now been removed, much to the joy of the spelling fanatics and not least to those who blush easily.

INGELA'S 9/11. CAMILLA
A few months before "twin towers" Ingela had made arrangements to import an American Clumber bitch called Camilla from Clussex kennels. Camilla was due to arrive at Copenhagen airport 16 September 2001. In the meantime Al Quaida had come in between with 9/11. The papers for Camilla were ok as far as Copenhagen and there was a slight hiccup from Denmark to Sweden. This didn't bother Ingela. She was just going to Denmark and blithely drive Camilla to Sweden. This is a grey area when it comes to taking animals from Denmark into Sweden. You just have to have a little luck and a hell of a cheek. However two days after 9/11, I, as indeed many others realised the import of what had happened. Not Ingela Barnett of course, who hadn't much time for news, politics or skyscrapers falling down in New York. She was hell bent on getting the car ready for her new arrival. I felt a little panic coming on. I knew that every airport in the world was under strict emergency. The situation was saved when I got a telephone-call from the US to say that all the airports were blocked and that Camilla would not be coming. I was so relieved, but when I told Ingela she was not of the same mind-set. She said something about going to the US and collecting Camilla herself. I reasoned with her, not an easy task and in the end she said she'd wait. Of course Camilla never came, which dissappointed Ingela very much. Soon after, she set her sights on the English hunting stock and was to import two fabulous dogs which would enrich her kennel. Sadly she wouldn't live to see her dreams come true.. It is gratifying to report that the boys and I recently produced two very successful litters with Ingela's English stock, all of which were bought by working-dog/show people.

I JUST CALLED TO SAY.....
Ingela bought dogs as everyone knows when she felt like it. I was consulted as a rule after she'd made up her mind. One day in the kitchen, she said in her usual matter-of-fact way that a new puppy was on the way. I turned to her and said "carefully" that she'd just bought a puppy recently. I was a bit worried because we had already six dogs in the house. I asked her what was going on and in her usual way she didn't explain satisfactorily. In the discussion I had the temerity to raise my voice slightly. "Don't speak to me in that tone of voice", said Ingela crossly. I backed down as I usually did but I was a bit sulky and Ingela knew it. She was on her her way to the stables where she worked and as I went out with her to the car. Just as she was about to drive off she wound down the window, this was when we would kiss each other googbye. She looked at me and I knew this would be a wooden kiss. "Go and fuck yourself", said the love of my life and drove off in a cloud of gravel and dust. I was shocked. Ingela seldon swore and never at me. I couldn't beleive it.I went into the house and started to bake bread to keep my mind off this incident I even got out the hoover which I hate, mind you I didn't use it. I was a bit sad about the whole thing and feeling sorry for myself. Then the phone rang. "I just called to say I love you". Ingela's rather bad singing voice was at the other end. We both laughted. "May I have that puppy now"?said the good lady. "of course you may my little pet" said I. I knew I had no choice but I was always glad when she was happy, I hated when she was annoyed, peace at any price

THE BITCH IS BACK !
Ingela worked three evenings a week at the stables. We lads were responsible for Ingela's dogs. This involved making sure that Ingela's dogs were fed and watered. One evening Ingela came home only to discover that we hadn't performed this simple task. Now it must be said that Ingela seldom lost her cool, but when she did, grown men were known to cry like babies. After that incident when Ingela arrived home she'd put her head round the door and shout "the bitch is back" whereby we all laughed. We lads could from then on afford to laugh as there was never again a repeat performance of the earlier negligence

TRUE LOVE
Ingela and I had a very soft mushy love-affair, one which would make most cynics baulk. We didn't care. We spent a lot of time together and enjoyed each others company very much. We laughted a lot and confirmed our love for each other often. It gives me enormous comfort to know that we, at the time of her death, had left nothing unsaid, we had covered everything. One day when the children had gone to school, we sat at the breakfast-table and talked about how lucky we were in our life and love. I looked over at my dear sweet Ingela and knew, as I always had done that I loved her more than anything in this world. I said it to her and that soft sweet smile crept across her lovely face. I went over to her and held her as I often did. We just sat there in each others arms not needing to say anything, just the silence of two people who know. I kissed her gently on her cheek and put my hands through her hair. We looked into each others eyes, as only two people deeply in love can. I held her hand and pressed the usual six times I, LOVE, YOU, VER, Y, MUCH. I gently brushed her lips with mine and felt the warmth of love and passion from my lovely Ingela. Without warning, Ingela pulled her hand away and jumped up. "Oh shit, I forgot to cut Patsy's claws and I've got to take her to the vet" said Ingela suddenly. "Ingela!", said I, wasting my breath. She loved her dogs just as much as me and I knew it.

ONE DROP TO FAR !
An old school-friend tells a funny story about Ingela when they were 12 years old. Ingela and her friend were at home at Ingela's house while her parents were away for the day. They mixed a few spirits from the drinks cabinet and made a terrible cocktail where they of course drank the lot in one go. This led to a serious detioration in the general condition of these two young ladies. They decided to go out and "meet the people". They certainly did! Two gentlemen from a semi-state body otherwise known as "the police" became aware of the situation which prevailed. The two young ladies were given sanctuary at the local police-station. Ingela's friend was distraught. Not our Ingela, who threatened to write an article about unfair treatment when she became a journalist when she was "big". In the meantime Ingela's father, Ralph, arrived on the scene to bail out the errant youngsters. He was, as Ingela always was, as cool as a cucumber. Later Ralph helped Ingela to her room to sleep things off. Next day he put his head around Ingela's door and with a little smile said, "well now you've learnt that bit, my little girl. Ingela was suffering from number one, of the three hangovers she would have in her life

WAKE UP SWEDEN ! SHAME ON US ALL

We recently heard on Swedish Radio about a family from Azerbaijan who, in 2004, were sent back to Azerbaijan after a court decision. They were assulted by their own police on arrival. They somehow made their way back to Sweden and were recently brought before the courts again. When it came to the summing-up the lady judge said, turning to the defence lawyer. "We better make this quick, the parking period goes out on my car and I don't want to miss that".
We might have thought we had miss-heard that, had not another commentator and the usually sober and discreet Swedish Radio not brought it up twice.This makes a complete mockery of the Swedish legal system, reflects poorly on our society and is a gross insult to the Swedish nation. The jugde should be dismissed immediately. She's in the wrong job.The unfortunate family, having been insulted by this hapless judge, are now to be returned to their country where an unknown fate awaits them. This can only be described as depressing and completely unacceptable.

What will happen? Nothing. The Swedes don't like fuss. Sweden has been asleep for many generations mainly because nobody has "bothered" them for many generations
Well, what are we going to do about this. Bugger all! We'll just sit in comfort behind our double-glazing and say "tutt, tutt. Mind you, if, while looking out through those double-glazed windows the neighbour's dog shits on our geraniums we'll go bananas.