Twitching
Some days in the wild Western Isles are days when the only thing to do is curl up tightly and twitch. If you should come a-knocking on Lewis’s front door on such a day, and nobody answers, it’s because we’re all at home, curled up tightly and twitching. Check the sky. It will probably have clouds that look like God has just revoltingly added extra milk to his already o’er-milky tea. Check your expensive mainland shoes. They will probably be partially submerged in puddle and doom. There will be no movement behind our curtains, and there will be no light in any window. Traditionally, we twitch in the dark. You should turn around immediately and return some other day.
March 3rd, 2009 at 12:32 pm
Twitching is best done in company. It’s too painful on your own
March 3rd, 2009 at 12:43 pm
i feel so out of my league, sugar! ;-/ xoxox
March 3rd, 2009 at 12:44 pm
Well we did used to all gather in the church halls for mass twitching but the government made us stop doing that in peril of disowning us. Something about it being unnatural and deviant, as I recall. Anyway, they were really quite firm with us about it, and you know, we’re whores for our rural subsidies.
March 3rd, 2009 at 1:03 pm
Savannah, honey, I just missed you there! The bunched up and twitching league is a league you’re best off staying well away from, my sweet. The beer is flat, the hot-dogs are cold, you have to wear striped shirts and special shoes too, which are sometimes still warm from the last person. Its really eeeew.
March 3rd, 2009 at 1:11 pm
At the twitching hour.
March 3rd, 2009 at 2:02 pm
It’s Salem’s Twitchalott! Eep.
March 3rd, 2009 at 2:44 pm
The curling sounds good, but twitching is what you do if there’s an itch you can’t scratch. Is scratching allowed in Lewis?
March 3rd, 2009 at 3:41 pm
Bock, it comes right after the drinking-the-still-warm-blood-of-the slower-moving-of-the-tourists hour.
Fmc, well might you eep. Oho yes! Well might you. It don’t get no eepier.
Nanas, it is not! “What starts with scratching will only end in Forny-kay-shun!” So it was spitten.
March 3rd, 2009 at 5:58 pm
awh…….I so wanna twitch right now………LMM wouldn’t be having any of it…….and her a master twitcher too…….she see’s things, not in a I see dead people kinda way, from very far off…..
March 4th, 2009 at 2:06 am
sorta like your banner
March 4th, 2009 at 3:55 am
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*tiptoes away in wellies fully intending to drop back tomorrow when the sky has lifted by two smidgins*
March 4th, 2009 at 6:26 am
why does it sound as if you went bowling, sugar?
xoxox
March 4th, 2009 at 10:53 am
So you won’t be sitting by your casement window? Conan’s comment…. See, always class over here even with your twitching. Have you tried the wire brush and dettol? I swears by it missus.
March 4th, 2009 at 11:50 am
God and his dairy intake, what? This is another reason for my lapsing Catholicism. And by lapsing I mean 6 feet under muck by now. Rather like your predicament, Sam!
March 4th, 2009 at 4:25 pm
Did you keen with the twitching. I’ve always fancied a bit of keening but I’m never sure if I’m dong it right.
March 5th, 2009 at 9:40 am
Sam, leave it to you Celtic types to create some story involving bogs and such to keep the rest of us from knowing what you’re really doing:
Watching reruns of “Dr. Who” or a Scotland/England match on the telly.
Cheers.
March 5th, 2009 at 9:48 am
It must be catching, Sam.
I’ve been on the twitch for days.
March 5th, 2009 at 1:16 pm
I’ve been a bit twitchy meself this week, too. Could be the air pressure. In Belgium God dunks a smelly cheese butty in his milky tea.
March 5th, 2009 at 4:48 pm
I keep twitching but curling is so frowned upon here on the mainland that I daren’t succumb.
March 7th, 2009 at 8:17 am
the only Lewis I visit is John Lewis
March 7th, 2009 at 4:05 pm
*twitch*
I don’t know what *twitch* you’re all *twitch* talking about.
*twitch*
I’m fine. Really.
March 8th, 2009 at 6:44 am
I thought twitching was something to do with birds…
March 9th, 2009 at 5:00 am
No twitching here, Sam, but we’re all of us curled into balls. There are days when that is the only sensible response.
March 9th, 2009 at 1:18 pm
i’ve tagged you today, if you’d like to play…come see! xoxox
March 9th, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Manuel – birdies?
Vincent, although you cannot tell it really from this distance, I am in fact doing a rare stand-up-not-in-the-house twitch.
Conan, it is comments like these by which I have long apprehended your essential wisdom.
Savannah, ha! Bowling would be as recreational manna to us in the hebrides, baby. We pile stones up in little heaps for our recreation there. The tourists think it’s some ancient mysterious misty shit, but nah. Just us.
Sniffle, I love Dettol. It smells like antisceptic poetry.
Sweary, which predicament, darling? (Wry lolling)
Pat, I bet you keen like a queen, my graceful friend. I keen more like somebody about to throw up on the ferry.
March 9th, 2009 at 2:57 pm
Rand – the telly is the devil’s instrument! You’re right though. Most of us have the devil’s satellite telly now too.
Medbh, it’s the time of year for it. If only we could harness the power of twitching we might be able to power a major city through February and March at least.
Daphne, the God of Belgium is a beast. The Goddess of France can’t stand him and his cheesy breath, but what can she do about it? She can hardly move, can she.
Eryl, curling is one of mankind’s greatest pleasure. Draw your curtains, take the phone off the hook and try it. Also rocking and moaning intermittently when you have a sinus infection.
Ellis, John is TheIsleOf’s more successful younger brother. But we have never been bitter or angry or torn up any Christmas cards at all. Nope sirree.
Andraste, see me reply to Medbh, stick your fingers in a plug socket and start producin’ baby! America needs the twitchers to decreaase or dependence on foreign oil.
March 9th, 2009 at 3:01 pm
ElizT, It’s something to do with freshly beheaded chickens I believe. is that what you’re thinking of?
Mary, you are one of Nature’s survivors. Come the End Days bags I bunk with you. You heard me everybody! I’m bunking with Mary and her well thought-out store of provisions! The rest of you will have to find your own wise friend!
Savannah, I shall be over for a see!