Deer Whisperer Pt 2
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Tue 7 Nov 2017 23:57
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Deer Whisperer – Part
Two
 After bimbling around the shrine, the
five storied pagoda and the little town, we headed down a
side street.
 The first shop on the left had an intriguing machine, we stood and watched. The lady on
the right was sweeping out the bits and adding a teeny bit of oil. The moulds
were moving past her to the dolloping machine and the closed lids arrived at the
same lady, who flicked said lids up. Move a little to our
right........
 Now we concentrated on the dollopy bit of the machine. So, the first two moulds on the
back row, far left, didn’t have enough dough dropped in, so the sweeping lady
leapt up spanner in hand and released the nut a little, sat back down and
resumed sweeping. The nozzles on the right release a measured amount of mixture
(as yet we are not sure if the finished business will be sweet or savoury).
Sweeping lady leans over and is clearly satisfied at the dollop size as she
relaxes back into her sweeping. The middle pair of nozzles become our focus of
interest. An unmentionable ‘sausage like’ substance pokes out of this part of
the machine at around half an inch and a wire from our side and a wire from the
back swings down and chops said ‘sausage’ off, this falls plop in the middle of
the mixture. The final pair of nozzles shoot some more of the original dollop on
top and off picture a little lever shoves the lids closed.
   The train of closed lids then
trundles away for a time and we see gas burners doing their stuff. The cooked
moulds circle in front of us and sweeping lady does her lid flicking thing and
pulls out two little cake-like ‘things’ and places
them in a rack with shaped holes. This makes the cake
bounce out of sight and it pops back in a cellophane wrapper. Sweeping lady
picks this up and pushes it to her left. Move further to our right. Shop lady
picks the wrapped cake up and its placed on the shelf for sorting. Now we move
further right actually in to the shop itself, and see the things we have been
watching in creation are called momiji manju and are a delicacy of the
island.
  Bear chose a bean paste momiji
manju, like he saw being made. I went for the peanut butter. They both tasted the same until I got my teeth into the paste
stuff, then the sweet spongy bit changed to a savoury flavour. Each
cost one pound thirty four and all I could think was we could get six custard
doughnuts for the same price in Tesco. I need an ice
cream. OK, plan which turned into quite an event for
Bear.
  At the end of the street had an impressive momiji manju machine, there was no sweeping
lady and the finished jobs were lifted by robotic fingers and automatically
placed in the divot for wrapping. Not as much fun as watching the sweeping lady.
I don’t suppose she thinks it fun after an eight hour shift having to prise her
brush out of her right mitt. Opposite was our ice cream shop that also sold the
local oysters, here they are cooked and I was pleased
to get away from the aroma with my number five (half chocolate, half vanilla).
  Bear settled with
his number 1, (plain vanilla), I sat next to him until he let out a manly
squeal, his first in a long time. Alarmed, I leapt to my feet, as his new friend
zoned in. It was a big shock to have a brown thing
leaning on my shoulder licking its lips then tongue out in eager
readiness. Now I’m giggling at the protective
distance Bear has put between keen eyes and his quarry. Not before the bloody thing had stolen the top inch or so.
  Deer with the
taste of Bear’s ice cream now jumped off the raised bed and went for the
finale. Bear now with hand aloft was attracting not
only my giggles but quite an audience. I’m
off.
  Bear now pushed
his new friend but he wouldn’t take the hint. All now in view of the torii gate in the sea, the on looking crowd
getting bigger.
  My attention is drawn to a mixing vat for momiji manju dough being delivered, much
head scratching and advice going on. A tight squeeze
methinks.
 My attention is now grabbed by a lovely little girl who took a break from her lunch to
whoop in delight, why ???
  Bear and his friend with laughing
people moving down the street. I miss the shot of his his friend with a mouthful
of Bear’s shirt but I hear the words of displeasure. Men are
now enjoying the spectacle. The rest of the crowd are
behind me laughing. No sympathy, no help, poor
show, rotten sods.
   He comes back toward us and now looks
like a competitor in the Cruft’s obedience
championship, his friend perfectly at heel
despite the last of the ice cream being popped in. Bloody thing.
   Off they go again. I’m going in the first shop I see.
 A way to go
yet, though.
  The first shop turned out to be full
of sake with eye-watering prices. In the window was
this full-sized beauty.
  The next sold curry doughnuts with an inserted oyster. I’m having one. But you’ve only just had an ice cream.
I want one, I’m traumatised after that experience. I’ve
been deer-molested,,,,,, do you want one. No, we are sashaying at
speed and far too close to the ‘eating flip-flop’ region.
  Lips at the
ready but as we turn..............you-know-who..........with that Bear was off at a canter
and didn’t stop until he was in the ferry building.
  In the queue he breaks his treasure open and furtively
shoves a bit in. Oh, the aroma, I swallow hard. You know you’re not
supposed to eat in public in Japan. Tough, tough and
thrice tough I say, my ice cream was a traumatic experience, you didn’t hear the
noise my shirt was making as I rested it back from that psychopathic creature.
 We walk on, I’m
shown the lovely but somewhat greasy
event. Has it assuaged your nerves from your previous eating
experience. Yes. We settled on the ferry and
I begin to feel Bear’s nerves calming to their normal semi-horizontal state.
I don’t have to put up with this, because I don’t have
to put up with this. Are you going to tick for the rest of the day.
I tell you, I’m old enough not to have to put up with
this. Oh dear, it may be a long evening.
ALL IN ALL SO COMICAL TO
WATCH
THE DEER CLEARLY NEED REINING
IN
OH, DEAR ME
WELL, I COULD HAVE SAID I WAS BEING DEER
STALKED.... |