To Market To Market to Buy a Fat Pig!

The words of an ancient Nursery Rhyme came to me just a few seconds ago as I cranked up Betsy for the first time in a Year .Betsy being my trusty German made PC with whom I have had a long, turbulent and oft times just plain frustrating, relationship over the last 8 years. Betsy, unlike the Fat Pig of Nursery Rhyme fame is not only stubborn like a friends Afghan hound but downright insubordinate.
On a good day, especially with no “r” in the month and the Sun shining bright as it does 7.5 days a year here in the Emerald Isle Betsy performs with steadfast determination, no freezes and generally quite acceptably. Naturally these are the days when I am out in the fresh air doing battle with Mother Nature so am completely unaware that Betsy is having a restful, but fun day clicking away on my desk with no interruptions.
However…all is not well in down in the Farmyard and the cantankerous and obstinate nature of all Farm animals on the bad days leaves you breathless, (like a certain brand of Beer) and with a murderous frame of mind. Talking of beer it’s fast approaching the witching hour of 17.59 beloved of Guinness aficionados so just maybe you the reader won’t have to wade through 3000 words after all to get to a few words that make sense!
Taking Betsy to the Vet, which is an all too frequent activity and usually results in relieving my wallet of copious currency (which is probably worth even less in the evening than when departing on the trip in the breaking Dawn) .You don’t want me to go into the machinations and complexity of Financial Market Melt down now do you?
As most of you know by now, visits to the Vet with four legged creatures and other similar animals who don’t possess legs (at least not in the accepted sense) is always filled with dread, accompanied by much squealing (or squawking if two legged and with feathers) and requires a strong constitution not to mention your wallet. (Which we already did incidentally!)
Does this veterinarian adventure solve all problems and leave you with a happy contented Animal that does the usual Sit and Stay tricks and doesn’t eat you out of house and home? The answer is a most emphatic NO, which after a nap, begs the question why on earth do you put yourself through this torture at all? at all? Here in this green and pleasant land with its 57 varieties of precipitation (for which read rain!) it is common practice to repeat a phrase for added emphasis. Try it sometime you will be surprised at the effect.
Betsy’s organ transplant programme, which one would have thought would solve all manner of ills, took several weeks and needless to say several emptyings of previously mentioned wallet. Doesn’t an organ transplant infer a new lease of life and a return to tranquil equilibrium? Not on your Fat Pigs backside …oh no…not at all, at all! (You see the effect of this wonderful use of the double repeat back flip exclamation now don’t you).
Outwardly Betsy looked the same and no doubt inwardly many new brightly coloured clicky things, USB hubs, hard drive exclamators, and WI FI terminals, to name but a few. The proof, as they say, of the pudding…is in the eating! Did she carve well with clear flowing juices and succulent crackling? No Sir! Did she impress the Dinner Guests with resulting promises of reciprocal Dinner Dates? No Sir!
She did however burn to a crisp an external Hard Drive when gently attached to her underside and steadfastly refused to accept her previously understanding boyfriend of 7 years who churned out, without complaint almost a ream per day of exquisitely prepared writing.
Advertising etiquette forbids the publication of brand names in this article as well as naming and perhaps shaming the Veterinarian Clinic who performed the aforementioned transplant surgery. Suffice it to say that buying a little Porker for fattening might be a better long term solution as well as learning some Veterinary skills oneself.
A final confession to make…for it was not my own wallet that suffered the opening and closing referred to earlier but that of my older Brother (now I come to think of it my only Brother) who just cannot bear to miss a visit to the Vets!
Robin Pigott
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