Chapter 24 - By the Pricking of My Thumbs (Part 1)

Whew! This is one...long...chapter. Actually, it was kind of funny as I read it. Not the story; just the way I was reading it. I was reading it on a new e-reading device, and each time I hit one of the scene changes I was thinking maybe my digital copy of the book didn't have chapter headings listed...? So I would scroll down a ways and...nope, it just kept...on..going.

Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't boring or anything. I just didn't expect to finish half of the book in one sitting. Okay, hyperbole aside, it actually IS just under 10% of the entire book. I know, I know, a lot of you are saying right now, "...and that's a problem, because...?" That's right, I'm sure you're the same ones who read MOBY straight through from start to finish with only three fast-food meals, two two-liter bottles of Diet Coke, five bags of chips, four bathroom breaks and three boxes of tissues. Mmm hmm, I see how this works.

At any rate, when we last left our intrepid explorers (are there any other kind?), they were being welcomed back to Castle Leoch with congratulatory toasts to their new marriage, and Geilie was warning Claire about the possibility of poison in her food for marrying the only real eligible bachelor at the castle. Tough crowd.

Here we learn of the death of Dougal's estranged wife, Maura, and Dougal and Ned head out to make arrangements. This spurs a little more background on Jamie's parents and their closer-than-usual marriage:

“It was different wi’ my own folk, ye ken. Dougal’s was an arranged marriage, like Colum’s and a matter more of lands and business than the wanting of each other. But my parents—well, they wed for love, against the wishes of both families, and so we were…not cut off, exactly; but more by ourselves at Lallybroch. My parents didna go often to visit relatives or do business outside, and so I think they turned more to each other than husband and wife usually do.”

It is this longing for a similar simple life at Lallybroch for himself and Claire that draws in to Jamie's thoughts. Although "longing for Lallybroch" just sounds a bit off, but you get the meaning.

Then with Jamie and Claire literally having a roll in the hay in the stable loft, young Hamish wanders in, intent on trading his pony for Donas (the demon horse), in order to prove to his friends he is man enough to handle a "real" horse. From my experience, demon horses are never usually a good idea.

*Uncomfortable silence*

That was a joke, as I've ridden a horse, like, maybe three times in my life. Some of that was even for fun. But I digress.

This scene between Jamie and Hamish is really quite charming, what with "the talk" and all. Poor Jamie only just recently figured out how all the equipment is supposed to work, and here he is trying to ensure Hamish has a better understanding than he did.

“Do ye mind being married,” he said, staring at his cousin. “Getting into bed every night with a lady, I mean.” “No,” said Jamie. “No, in fact, it’s verra pleasant.” Hamish looked doubtful. “I dinna think I should like it much. But then all the girls I know are skinny as sticks, and they smell o’ barely water. The lady Claire—your lady, I mean,” he added hastily, as though wishing to avoid confusion, “she’s, er, she looks as though she’d be nicer to sleep with. Soft, I mean.”

Indeed. My Pocket Claire, standing dutifully to the side of my computer screen, looking on and making sure that I am representing this story faithfully, confirms this.

Pocket Claire, the Ever-Vigilant Vanguard of my blogging

Later that evening, as Claire makes preparations for bed, her mind wanders to the thoughts of her troubles with conceiving, and how fortunate they are that her cycle has not been unduly interrupted. Me, being the conscientious reader that I am, totally missed that boat. It had never crossed my mind how much more complicated this whole thing could become with children entering the picture. (No immediate spoilers, please. And yes, I have an idea of what comes up later in the series).

As Jamie and Claire are settling in for the night, they discover an unusual omen in the bedding:

We found it under my pillow. “What on earth…?” I picked it up, and promptly dropped it. “Ouch! It has thorns!” “It was a small bundle of plants, plucked up roughly by the roots, and bound together with a bit of black thread. The plants were wilted, but a pungent smell still rose from the drooping leaves. There was one flower in the bouquet, a crushed primrose, whose thorny stem had pricked my thumb.

The ill-wish leads to further questions about who left it. A little online research about this superstitious custom makes it easy to understand it was intended to wish the marriage ill, and possibly prevent children.

"The withering of plants has long been regarded ominous, and, according to a Welsh superstition, if there are faded leaves in a room where a baby is christened, it will soon die."  The Folk-lore of Plants By Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer, 1889 

Awesome. What a pleasant thought. Aren't there any happy superstitions like, "If the plant in the house dies, you win the lottery", or "If the moon shines in your window in the month of May, your family takes you on an all-expenses paid cruise to Bermuda"? Sheesh. Lighten up, superstitious crazies.

And this, in my humble opinion is where this chapter SHOULD have ended. Well, at least it's where this post ends. Part 2 to follow in a few days...