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Sunday, January 18, 2015

Chapter 24 (part 2)

As Claire  starts to settle back in to her routine at the Castle, she busies herself with her duties in the surgery: hunting for herbs, grinding and sorting them into their bottles and generally keeping things in order. In the course of all this busy-ness, she begins to wax phoilosophic:
The apothecary’s cabinet had been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected, and now held stores of dried leaves, roots, and fungi, neatly packed in cotton-gauze bags. I took a deep breath of the sharp, spicy odors of my sanctum and let it out in a sigh of contentment. Then I stopped pounding and set the pestle down. I was contented, I realized with a shock. Despite the myriad uncertainties of life here, despite the unpleasantness of the ill-wish, despite the small, constant ache of missing Frank, I was in fact not unhappy. Quite the contrary.
Certainly, as she has been in one new adventure after another, any sort of routine that has a ring of familiarity to it would be welcome. I think this is just human nature.

For me, driving in Portland is always an adventure. We live in a quiet suburb about 20 minutes away from "the city", and any time I have to go "downtown" for a meeting for work, I always feel like a cat in a bathtub. (Well, at least how I think a cat in a bathtub would feel; i.e., GET ME OUTTA HERE!). Pedestrians don't watch traffic signals; they just walk out into the street whenever they want; streetcars drive on tracks on the same road where I'm driving. (Something about driving across tracks sends a signal to my brain that says, "trains drive on tracks, therefore, you should not be anywhere near them when you're driving a vehicle!") Mazes of one-way streets take me everywhere but the direction I want to go. Then, when I do find the place I want to be, that section of street is under construction, and I have to loop around another five blocks, dodge more pedestrians and streetcars to get back to the overpriced parking garage where I need to be.

But then, blessed relief, when I am done with my meeting I can head back out of the city environs and onto more familiar roads back to my humble abode in the 'burbs.

Familiarity, thou art my friend.

All of this digression to make the simple point of how familiar surroundings and routine can be comforting in the most unpleasant of situations, which is where Claire finds herself now.

What about Frank? Her guilt kicks in with the inevitable realization that Frank must be beside himself with not knowing her fate:
How could I bring myself to be happy, when Frank must be demented with worry? Assuming that time was in fact continuing without me—and I couldn’t see why it wouldn’t—I must have gone missing for upwards of four months. I imagined him searching the Scottish countryside, calling the police, waiting for some sign, some word of me. By now, he must nearly have given up hope and be waiting, instead, for word that my body had been found.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Jamie, leaning on the sturdy shoulder of Old Alec, the stablemaster. Jamie was wincing because of a swollen ankle from having been thrown off of the (demon) horse Donas (please see my previous post for my misgivings about anything to do with demon horses). Nailed it.

The next day, as Jamie is "laid up" while his ankle heals, he and Claire steal away to the roof of the castle during a rainstorm and dream about heading out to Lallybroch, away from the craziness of the castle and clan politics. When the topic of the Duke of Sandringham comes up, Claire tries to hide how she knows about him, but is relieved to find out that Jamie knows about him also. However, later on we find out just how much Jamie knows about the Duke and his, um, preferences.

Their trip back down from the roof is interrupted by a visit from the village priest, Father Bain, who is attacked by the mongrel pack that wanders around the castle. As Jamie chases the dogs away, Claire offers to assist the priest with some rather obvious wounds, to which the priest replies:
“What, a man o’ God to expose his pairsonal parts to the handling of a wumman? Weel, I’ll tell ye, madam, I’ve no notion what sorts of immorality are practiced in the circles you’re accustomed to move in, but I’ll have ye to ken that such’ll no be tolerated here—not sae long as I’ve the cure of the souls in this parish!” With that, he turned and stumped off, limping rather badly and trying unsuccessfully to hold up the torn side of his robe.
I don't blame him. I gotta say, seeing a woman doctor about anything to do with, um, privates, is a bit unnerving. When I had my vasectomy, there was a woman doctor "observing" the procedure. I remember the doctor (a male) asking me if I would be okay if she came in for training. Of course, I think he purposely waited until after the drugs had kicked in to ask me. In my drugged haze, I didn't see a problem with it. As an afterthought, though, the idea of a woman staring at my privates with my legs spread wide still makes me wonder how every woman who's ever had a baby deals with the casual nature of people just wandering in and out of the room while she's essentially in the same vulnerable state! You ladies rock!

Afterwards, Alec comes in to Claire's surgery seeking relief from his "rheumatism". I really enjoyed this scene and getting to know a little bit more in the background of Alec. As Claire works through the knots in the tired body of this old war-horse, she encourages him to relax a little:
“A good slug of whisky and a deep massage is the best I can recommend. Tansy tea will do only so much.” He laughed, shawls slipping off his shoulder. “Whisky, eh? I had my doubts, lassie, but I see ye’ve the makings of a fine physician.”
During the massage, he relates a little more insight into the background of Jamie's mom and dad. Learning some more of this mysterious past comes with it's own bit of scandal. Alec relates the legend of the "silkie": how seals were thought to come ashore and assume the forms of men, forsaking their former lives. He alludes to the mysterious  nature of Jamie's dad, Brian, and how they only came to know of him at the games. More intriguing still is that Alec appeared to know both parents very well. Claire tucks this info away for further reference which I'm sure will come to light in the not too distant future.

More to come... (Hey, I can't help it if Diana writes super-long chapters).

1 comment:

  1. Another great commentary! I love the humor you write with. As for driving in Portland! WOW! That city is something else again to drive in, but you gotta LOVE Powell's!

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