Emma Bennet, from the Fisheries Department, stopped by yesterday with seven mackerel for us. She was really surprised that we’ve had him for so long, and was also surprised that he was so small – she was expecting that he would have been older and further developed, so was especially amazed that he’s done so well up until now. She says that most of the time when people find terns, they only last a day or two. I told her that we’ve been praying, so I give all the credit for his survival to God! Anyway, about these mackerel…the only thing that had been done to them was that their necks had been sliced open (if you can call where the head joins the body a ‘neck’). I had to de-head them, de-tail them, cut them open and remove the innards (I don’t even want to know what exactly was in there…it was a bloody mess and there was white fatty stuff and it was GROSS), then take off the skin, and then pull the flesh off. Well I got as far as preparing six of them for de-fleshing, and just cut the seventh one up in slices. I’ve kept all the heads, in case Reepi likes those when he’s older. The rest of the fish bodies are in the fridge for when I can face them again, also because I think the flesh comes away easier when it’s cooled. I’ve never really handled a whole fish before, but I guess when you get past the fact that it’s just recently been a live animal happily swimming in the sea, and now you’re dismembering it, it was quite interesting. I showed the boys how the mouth opens (bob bob), and I showed them the gills, very red, layers and layers. I guess those must be rich in iron. Yummy.
We visited one of our church ladies in the afternoon out at Blue Hill, clothed warmly in jackets because it had been raining all morning and was on the chilly side in town, so we expected the weather to be worse in the country (it was). Had a good visit with Shirley and her husband. She had a back op in Cape Town three months ago, so still has to be very careful. This gave me a good excuse to help her with the tea in the kitchen, which otherwise she would never have heard of…you can’t bother the pastor’s wife to help with something like that!! Again, that horrible pedestal thing. We’re hoping that people will see us as normal, regular people as time goes by - it’s a Saint peculiarity that we are viewed as only The Pastor and The Pastor’s Wife.
On the way home from Blue Hill we encountered an ex-pat couple who arrived on the island at the end of last year, on a two-year teaching contract. Their car had run out of petrol, so they were hoping to push the car up the hills and freewheel down the slopes until they got to a garage. Unfortunately, even with Nick helping, the hills proved too steep to push the car up, so we drove them to the garage in Half Tree Hollow (amazingly, it was open on a Saturday afternoon) where they could get petrol in a container. Then we drove them back to their car. After they had emptied the petrol into the car and got it started, we all stood outside (in the freezing wind) chatting, and having such a nice time! It was a providential meetings, I’m sure.
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