A Terrible Beauty

For breakfast that morning we took our fresh dark roasted coffee to a more shady part of the lush green garden. The previous evenings entertainment had well and truly taken its toll inside of my head and I lay stretched fully upon the cool tiles that lined the slate pathway. Peace was upon me in my time of great suffering. And then they came. It was quite a daunting moment. The way in which they just appeared before us in our own garden was intimidating to say the very least. Their leader, a big ugly brute came at us without the slightest sign of fear. I registered the smallest of cries caught in the back of Siobhan's throat as they made a beeline for me as I lay prone and helpless beneath the Spanish sun. An old feeling deep down inside instinctively forced the adrenaline to prepare my body and mind for the imminent pain. I reached for the nearest weapon to hand, a pot of good black coffee splashed an expensive wave of liquid over the closest of the assailants. The effect was wasted, forcing the intruders back only long enough for me to scramble to my feet and take up an indignant stance. Again they came at us in waves, I withstood their advances as Siobhan scrambled to safety.

Romancing tales will have you believe that there is glory in battle, facing the enemy with the sound of military drums beating in rhythm with your own brave heart as you transform into a Hollywood hero while dramatic music fills your brain. In battle there is very little time for bravery. Survival becomes paramount at any cost. Deep in the moment I found myself strangely savouring the feelings of old as I thrashed wildly with my feet and hands. However, there was too many of them. My middle-aged body was being forced back due to the sheer number of the attackers. I began to feel that after all this time I had finally met my match. I looked helplessly around me, grateful at least that no one would see me being taken down by these relentless, fearless intruders as they grew ever more aggressive. And then through the stramash of it all she appeared. Like a beautiful goddess rising from a Celtic mist, she appeared. To hand she brought forth her magnificent weapon of which she took aim and blasted them with a force that devastated them entirely. She had no choice. It was them or me.

Our eyes met in such a way that was terrifying yet intimate at the same time. A man knows every look upon his partners face. Every expression is embedded into his memory for life, it is how men learn to read their wives ever changing moods. I saw regret in her eyes as I was accidentally caught in the line of fire, yet a determination to quell the furor made me proud as I saw the terrible beauty light her extraordinary violet eyes. For the first time in her life she had glimpsed into a world of vengeful fury. She had revelled in her moment of power. There could be no turning back for her now. Minutes later as I dried myself off with a large fluffy towel, I relished the fact that the battle was indeed won at the cost of so many at the feminine hands of so few. Her words rebounded off of my still slightly vodka fuddled mind as she rewound the hose to its original place on the large plastic reel. "Remind me to add ant powder to the list next time we visit the market please James."  "Aye hen, I will, that was a wee bit too close for comfort, eh?"

Chefs Surefire Hangover Cure

1 large spoon of honey
1/2lb red grapes
300ml Vodka
12ml fresh lemon
1/2 pint Irn Bru
Ice
(no ants)

Blend together on max speed. Strain out the debris. Pour into chilled glass. Drink steadily until pain in temples recedes. Nap gently in hammock until sun reaches the yard arm. Resume position with fresh alcoholic drink in hand. Repeat all of the above until you feel better or are too swallied to care. Enjoy.