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der Bauberzerg - 03. Monsa, or Dame Isaac

  Monsa, or Dame Isaac Monsa is another nurse at Barbaret Bobin. Her real name is anything but, and I call her Monsa because she looks like Mona Lisa (although she has more curls) and Monsa is short for Mona Lisa, plus with that many curls in her hair and the way she styles her hair, she also looks alarmingly like everybody’s favourite physicist who got smashed in the head by a Trinity apple. Yes, I’m talking about you, Sir Isaac Newton. Monsa was present at a few key moments during my entire stay at Barbaret Bobin. She happened to be on shift the few times restrictions ran rampant and I was anything but cheerful. Monsa, however, kept her cool throughout. When I attempted to force my way into the house of the dragons (a code we use with fellow ward mates referring to the nurse station) Monsa got a few security guards to stop me, and when I tried to be naughty and fight my way through and during the process almost fell over, Monsa asked the security guards to let go and let me f...
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der Bauberzerg - 02. Mod, Mother of Dragons

  Mod, Mother of Dragons Mod is a nurse at Barbaret Bobin and sometimes acts in a team leader role.  Mod’s real name, although starting also with M and in the same three-lettered form, is not Mod. Mod is just short for mother of dragons, because Mod is as fierce as the dragon mother from the most hyped TV series in the 2010s. Taking away the fierceness, Mod is still quite a character. In looks she bears a striking resemblance to one of my associates from church: same height, same tone of voice, similar features, and both wearing glasses of the same shape and size. Mod enjoys analysing French poetry and speaks several languages, same as my church associate, although I never got a chance to ask Mod about her faith. One night I was restless and bored (there are no books available in one of the Barbaret Bobin wards; there’s only three, and the one with no books nor anything is the acute unit) and Mod was on shift. She wasn’t assigned to me, but she was the only one availab...
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der Bauberzerg - 01. Rerry-Howan, or Rerry VIII

  Rerry-Howan, or the most Royal and Reverent Rerry VIII Rerry-Howan has the same misfortune as me of being in possession of a hyphenated first name. Of course, this is not his real name. A name can be an alias, and as such can sometimes accentuate certain qualities of the person being discussed. Rerry VIII is my preferred alias for Rerry-Howan. I will be referring to Rerry-Howan as Rerry VIII or Rerry for short for his part at Barbaret Bobin. Rerry is a nurse. Rerry always appears in navy. Nurses at Barberet Bobin have access to uniforms in navy and maroon and sometimes special themed ones (eg Christmas tops,) Rerry, however, always wears navy. Physical characteristics: height-wise, Rerry is neither here nor there. Rerry is not well over 6 feet. Rerry is only just about 6 feet or so based on my casual observation. Rerry’s hair, both cranial and facial, is sadly not in abundance, although the facial segment trumps its cranial neighbour, and both are fiery red. Rerry is a pure...
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der Bauberzerg

  der Bauberzerg Preface No, I did not pinch Thomas Mann’s choice of name for one of his most famous novels. I adapted it by assigning to it a wee swap. In computer science terms, it’s a mini three-way swap, aka Trinity Swap (by the way, Alan Turing said no; so actually I made this bit up just to give Trinity another poke, hopefully neither in the eye or up the nostrils).  To complete a three-way swap, you need another bit of space just big enough to accommodate one letter. You then take the ‘Z’, de-capitalise it, put it in the little container (let’s call it Container C because why not), then you take and capitalise the letter ‘b’ (now ‘B’) and put it in the head of the queue where ‘Z’ (now ‘z’) has left, and lastly, you take ‘B’ from container C and put it in the midst of the queue where ‘z’ has left.  Congratulations, now you’ve managed to complete a three-way swap. Feel free to chuck container C down the bin, or re-initialise it aka return it to the database t...
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Hair and brain theory (draft)

I guess typing on a chromebook forces an oldie like me to learn new tricks. Using unconventional key combos to initiate upper case letters would be one of the most infamous. Fellow chromebook newcomers, if this new trick causes you to grind your teeth in chagrin, please do not despair and do not stress out your dental health or the mental health of your dentist any more than you need to, because we are all there in the same place.  There's no such thing as 'we have all been there', unfortunately. This chagrin is an ongoing condition. Oldies like me take forever to learn it. To achieve mastery is a dream that shall never come true. Anyway, before this post turns into a rebel's ramble against the chromebook, and instead of wishing everyone a blessed if belated Christmas like a normal person, I would like to propose a theory regarding the amount of hair o on a person's head and its relation to the amount of brains within said person's cranial cavity. As with any th...
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My siblings from WA

Dear Mr and Ms Maslin, I have good news for you and baby sis Violet. I have found Evie. She is a boarder at RSPCA  Norwood, she is the sweetest medium sized feline that ever graced the lodge,  has a best friend called Nellie, and is waiting for a family to adopt her. She was the Princess Royale in your family when she was with you. Now she is of course Her Royal Highness the Princess of Norwood, so a potential family would have to pay a hefty sum to be able to adopt both her and her best friend aka her lady in waiting.  Evie being Evie, she gave the matrons the same price of just under $40 for only adopting herself to keep the database happy, but she has also made it very clear that she won't leave without Nellie, for whom she set three times the amount of adoption fees than her own. To the Princess, Nellie is never just a friend or her lady in waiting; she is her life. Families looking for two sweetest feline girls out there, please pop in to the lodge at Petbarn Norwood...
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The Longest Journey

  If you are feeling cheerful right now, you might want to stop reading. There is a sleepy little pocket halfway up the hills here in Cambradelaide, by name Mitcham. There are two locales here that means something more than mere locales to my sister.  One is Scotch College, and the other is the Edinburgh Hotel on High Street.  My sister was a faith-based support worker for the disabled. One of her clients from a different suburb died of cardiac arrest at the Edinburgh Hotel, on the floors of the gaming room, in September 2019, leaving behind two adult children, older brother David and younger sister Mary. The nearby Scotch College shares the same name as the one in a neighbouring state to the west, where the eldest of three young siblings was a pupil, and where, in July 2014, all three of them perished together with their grandfather on the MH17 flight returning home from Amsterdam.  The three siblings were called Mo, Evie and Otis, then aged 12, 10, and 8. I was bar...
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