Knock, Knock, Knock On Wood.

The visceral side of life.

It was the ringing of our church bells that did it. Most of us Eisenbergers have an innate timer regarding the church bells. The usual easy times such as Sunday service and those often far too early Oh what a beautiful morning rings. But yesterday even the most experienced church bell timekeeper was confused. Odd times and odd chimes indeed.

I happened to be visiting one of the older villagers when during our conversation, the bells rang out at an odd time. Loud and clear yet we both were confused about the reasons for it. Don't forget that in a small village the ringing of bells means a news tidbit if not an invitation to join the priest for an hour or so. As it was just gone eleven in the morning, I was leaning towards firstly a wedding although, Friday isn't a day for it.

My friend was wondering if those bells themselves were being serviced but when about half an hour later they started again, we both tipped on a funeral being held even though neither of us had heard any bad tidings.

Word association can be ruthless and with the last note falling silent, the conversation broached funerals or rather the best way to rest. My first knock on wood came rather quickly when she asked me;

" Would you rather be buried in a crypt or a grave when the time comes? "

Oh my, with verbal dexterity I tried to shift the conversation to happier topics, but for some reason this one stayed on her mind and she gave me examples of the various local crypts in the graveyard and how one of them had been opened and cleaned a while back. Good grief, seeing it in a movie is one thing but hearing it in reality quite another.

Look, my stalwart topic of Mausi did the trick of diverting attention to a much more happier state of mind. It turns out that her neighbour has four kittens who most days hop over and play with her and by the sheer elation on her face, I am sure that they'll add years to her life.

Biggi