How the Sandwich got it’s name….

 

           It was a cold and rainy November night, when Duke Shamous found himself traveling through the little village of Tophin.

The stars were out, brightly shining his way, but still it was a thick dark nights sky.

Dukes stomach began to gurgle and grumble, with every step he took. Reminding him its been hours since his last meal.

As he came to the far end of the village, he saw one, lonesome, shinning light ahead.

“A Tavern” He said to his men behind him. “We’ll go there and get food”

His men looked ahead, and then back at each other with doubt in their eyes. It was the middle of the night, what place is going to be serving hot food at all, let alone to the standard they knew the Duke expected every meal. But they kept their mouths shut and thinking of their own hungry belly’s, thought its worth a try.

As they got closer, with the rain stinging their eyes, the light sparkled. The duke reached out and pulled the heavy door open. As he did, the heat came pouring out. He stepped forward, his men following closely behind. Each one of them being enveloped into the thick warm air.

Breathing in the fresh wood smoke coming from the open fie, tingling their skin.

Duke stepped in, walking straight towards the bar. His men sat down at a table in the corner.

Not many people were in the tavern at this time. Only a few, old local men, sitting by the fire, mugs of ale in hands, telling each other stories of years before, that they must have told and heard a hundred times before.

Sam, the owner of the tavern, immediately recognizing the duke, came rushing over to him to take his order.

“A mug of your home-brew please good sir”

Sam nodded, and started pouring the ale.

“And make me 4 of your finest dinners, for me and my men over there”

Sam looked up from the tap, looked up at the clock on the wall. Dinner hour was well past finished, the kitchen was shut down. But this was the duke here. In His Tavern! He couldn’t possible say no. He brain started going a mile a minute, thinking through everything he has in the larder. He passed the Duke his drink, and quickly went out back. He shouted (As quietly as he could possibly shout without anyone hearing him!) up the stairs to his wife.

“Pst, Helen, come down. The Dukes here!”

Helen stuck her head down from the top of the stairs, her hair all tied up in cloth, her nightdress and slippers on.

“What do you mean the duke? Where? Here?”

“Yes, here, he wants food. Come and help me”

Helen grabbed her dressing gown, and came running down the stairs, sticking her arms in as she took the steps 2 at a time. Helen and Sam both rushed into the kitchen, turning all the lights back on that had been shut off for the night. Then both began frantically searching the fridge, the counters, the buckets, anywhere that food is kept.

After a few minutes of searching, and gabbing anything they could find that was left, they turned to each other, and both surveyed the food they had placed out on the counter.

They stared in silence at the spread in front of them. After a moment, Sam turned to his wife. Fear in his eyes.

“What am I going to do? The duke is here, in our tavern, and wants a meal. All we have left is some bread, a couple of chunks of cheese, and the last few slices of ham. I can’t give the duke and his men this to share on a plate. What am I going to do Helen?”

Helen looked from the food to her nervous husband. She didn’t have an answer for him, and she hated not being able to help him. She knows this tavern is everything to him, and she didn’t want to risk the duke leaving with a bad experience.

She went over to the cupboard, and grabbed some plates, she put them on the counter and began to slice some cheese. She cut the bread into slices, 2 on each plate. And divided the meat up. Giving the biggest bits to the plate or the duke.

Sam watched as she did this, his mind going crazy thinking of how to make this look like his best meal he could offer.

When his wife had finished, he walked over to the plates. He stood there, staring for a moment longer, and then he reached over, grabbed the butter and a knife, and began to butter the bread. He spread the perfectly whipped butter that his wife had made that morning onto each of the slices of bread. Then – reaching over to a shelf where he had a jar of homemade mustard, he grabbed it and began delicately spreading a thin layer of yellow atop the butter on one slice of each plates bread.  He then placed, ever so gently, the cheese on one slice. He looked again at the plate, picked up the meat, and placed it on top of the cheese. Took the other slice of bread, and put it on top.

He stepped back from the plate, looking at this stacked bread cheese, and meat.

 

He turned to his wife, who began to smile at him.

“It’s great Sam, take it to him. It’s the middle of the night, I’m sure he is starving. He will be grateful for whatever you offer him”

Sam, still hesitant, picked up the plate for the duke, and started out to the bar. Helen followed close behind, stopping at the entrance to the bar, poking her head around and watched as her husband walked up to the sleepy looking Duke still sitting at the bar with his mug of ale in his hand.

Sam placed the plate in front of Duke, and took a step back. Afraid to turn away he watched as Duke looked down at his plate of bread cheese and meat, turning the plate slowly, looking at all ends, each corner, lifting the top layer of bread slightly and looking inside.

After he had inspected the whole thing. He picked up the stack, and brought it to his mouth.

Sam watched as Duke took that first bite. Watched his jaw as he began to chew. Then when the duke looked up at him, and his mouth began to turn upwards into a smile, Sam let go the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in since his fingers left the plate in front of Duke.

“Young man, what is this you have fed me with?”

Sam stepped forward

“Its Bread Sir, and Cheese and Meat”

“I know that much”

The duke said, again inspecting the stack in his hand.

“But what’s it called when it’s all put together like this?”

By now the Dukes men have seen what is happening at the bar, and so have the locals sitting by the fire. Even Helen had stepped further in behind the bar still in her sleep wear. Everyone is watching as Sam tries to explain to Duke how he had put these things together.

“So, it doesn’t have a name?”

The duke asked.

Sam shook his head.

“What’s your name?”

“Sam”

The Duke looked at Sam, and back at his food.

“Just Sam? Do you have a last name Sam?”

“Which”

Sam said.

“Huh OK, well, this right here, is called a Samwhich.  I can tell you right now, many a man will be eating a Samwhich in years to come”

The duke smiled up at Sam, and went back to eating.

Sam smiled, turned to look at his wife, who was grinning at him from where she stood, with proud, love, in her eyes.

The Duke was right. Many a man, after that day, turned up at Sam’s tavern to try his famous SamWhich. Each time, not knowing entirely what to expect inside, between those two pieces of bread.

Over the years, and over the countries, in different taverns, made by different men, the SamWhich became known world-wide. Its name being translated into many different languages, different tongues, different cultures.

Eventually, ending up, as we know it now, the Sandwich.

….And that’s how the Sandwich got its name.

Not Allowed to watch TV!!

When I was five, my mum, brother and I went to New Zealand. We had friends who had moved there, who we were going to stay with for a few months. 
There are so many stories I could tell you of our time there, but the part I want to tell you about, was when I went to school.

My brother and I were enrolled in a school in Parmistan north, for; I think a month of our stay. 
I was so excited to be going to a new school… a “regular” school, is what I called it (As back home I was at Steiner school – which, for those of you who don’t know.. is a whole different kind of education, look it up, Waldorf Steiner! – plus, at 5, I still hadn’t gone up to the big school, but here, I was in the big school with the big kids!)
Anyway, I was so excited, I felt like it was the most exciting thing ever to happen to me, I was looking forward to meeting new people, learning new things.. And getting homework! (Keep in mind I was 5!)
That morning, I woke up early, with butterflies in my stomach, I jumped out of bed and put on my beautiful, Lime green (yes, I did say Lime green.. just remember it was in the early 90’s) dress that Mum and I had selected days before, and ran into the kitchen. I sat at the table, eating my cereal; talking non-stop about the things I thought I would learn that day.

On the drive to school, suddenly the excitement began to turn into fear, what if none of the girls liked me? What if they all thought I was weird because I had an accent? (Little did I know at this point, that being the girl with the accent was going to become such a huge part of my life later on!) What if they thought I was dumb? I tried so hard to push these fears away, but they just grew and grew, as we got closer.
Pulling up to the school, my brother jumped out the car and ran into school with the boys he already knew from his class.

“I don’t want to go anymore mummy”  I said, looking out at the big scary building.
“Come on, I’ll take you to your class, you’ll be fine once you’re in there and meet some of the other girls”

I took my mums hand, as she lead me into the building that looked like a giant monster in front of me, we went and registered, and found out what class I would be in, and then my mum had to leave.

I was taken by the head mistress, as we walked down the long, seemingly never-ending but at the same time, nowhere near long enough, hallway to the classroom at the end. When we opened the door and I stepped inside, the entire class stared. I was introduced to my teacher, who then introduced me to the entire class. I couldn’t speak, I could barely even breathe, I just wanted to hide at the back of the room. Then, as my eyes quickly, shyly scanned the room – I saw her. Emma was her name. Her blonde ringlets hanging down to her shoulders, big blue eyes glistening up at me. She smiled. I knew, right then, this was the girl I had to be friends with. Obviously the most popular girl in the class, and definitely the most beautiful.

I was shown to a seat, just behind her. I tried to smile at her as I walked past, but it may have looked more like I had a twitch.

To be honest the next, middle part of my first day is quite a blur, I don’t really know what class we had, if I spoke to anyone,.. All I know is I had been waiting for a moment where I could speak to Emma, a perfect opportunity where I could become her new best friend, and I was about to be given that chance.. Or so I thought.

It was the class after lunch, we were all told to line up in the hallway, and that we were going to have a treat. We were going to get to watch a movie on Turtles! There was so much excitement bubbling around, people pushing in line to get to the front so they could get the best seat, chatter about who will sit next to who.

All I did was watch Emma, making sure I didn’t miss a single move, I was going to make sure, whatever happened that I ended up next to that girl.

The teacher finally got us all standing neatly in line, and we were about head into the movie room, when she asked if there was anyone who was not allowed to watch TV. I wasn’t really listening to what she said; I just saw Emma’s hand shoot up in the air, so mine followed.

“Ok, whoever is not allowed to watch the movie, will be the game room”

A huge smile spread across my face, I was going to get to spend time with JUST Emma, – not just sit next to her in a movie – but play games, just me and her! There’s no way at the end of this we wont be best friends!
Then I heard some giggling, and I looked around and saw that my hand was the only one up. The teacher began to walk over to me; she crouched down, so she was at my height.

“Ok, you’re the only one I think, are you sure you’re not allowed?”

At this point, I could have got out of it; I realized that Emma had only put her hand up as a joke. But if I then said, “Oh, no I am allowed to, I was just kidding” what would everyone think of me? They’d think I was a liar. I was a liar, I was lying that I couldn’t watch it, but if I say I was lying, they’d know I was a liar, and that would be even worse!!

My head began to nod, I looked down at the floor, my stomach turned, and my eyes began to burn. I swallowed back all the tears, and started to follow my teacher as she led me away from everyone else.
 We walked through the TV room, through a long, gloomy corridor, into the back room.

Inside, was a chair, in the centre, and a box full of toys on one side. It was like a prison, but for a five-year old. I looked around, and then looked back up at my teacher, with longing eyes. “Please don’t leave me in here” I wanted to say, but couldn’t speak, for fear that all the tears I had swallowed would all come tumbling out at once.

“Someone will come and get you when we’re done Ok? There are toys in the box, this door will lock as I leave, so if you need anything, just bang on it and someone we’ll hear Ok?”

I nodded, and looked down at the floor.
I watched her feet as she walked out the room, then felt a smash against my heart as the door shut tight.
I looked around my prison.
“This is what I get for wanting to be friends with the popular girl,”  I thought.

I looked up at the door; it was a big, strong wooden door, with a small window high up. I wasn’t tall enough to see out of it, but I could see the light from the corridor.

The tears began to spill down my face, at this point I didn’t even begin to try to stop them, the current was too strong.
I sat down on the floor, and watched the wet spot begin to grow as my tears pool-ed on the carpet.
Once the tears ran out, and my throat was sore from holding in the big sobs, I wiped my eyes, and decided I might as well make good use of the time. The best use of it I could think, was to use it to imagine what would have happened if I had been in the other room. So, I curled up in the corner, and began to live my imaginary life.

I was sitting in that dark room, the movie was playing, Emma was beside me. We laughed at the same things, we covered our mouth in shock at the same moments, we grabbed for each-others hands at the scary part.

As the movie was coming to an end, Emma leaned over to me and whispered in my ear “Will you be my best friend?”
I turned to her, and smiled, I was so happy, it finally happened. I was going to best friend with the post popular, most beautiful girl at my new school. I nodded and she grinned back at me.

I don’t know how much time passed, but I know my mind was very vivid as a child, and I could sit for a very long time, living my imaginary life.

But when the light in the hallway was switched off and all I could see was blackness out the little square window at the top of the door,.. I knew something was wrong. I had been forgotten.

I stood up, my body being overtaken by fear. I started to shake. Tears started to build up again like a huge wave being formed out in the middle of the ocean, knowing it will soon crash on the shore. I dragged the chair over to the door and stood on it. The only thing I could see, was at the very end of the long, black hallway, was a little light. The light at the end of the tunnel.
“That must mean someone is still in the school. I wont be here forever” 

A tiny glimpse of hope rose in me.

I jumped down from the chair, and began pacing the room.

I walked back and forth, back and forth. I started walking in patterns, imagining my feet were leaving a trail of glitter behind me. Until the room was totally full of sparkles. And then I would mix them all up and blow them around, so that they were floating all around me in the air.

Finally, after all I could see was the thick ocean of glitter filling up the entire room, and in front of my eyes was a foggy layer of tear glasses, the light flicked back on through the door. And then, the door opened…….

I stood still, scared to move, just in case it wasn’t my teacher, but a big scary monster.
It wasn’t, it was my slightly frazzled teacher, who rushed in and ran over to me.

“I’m so sorry, come on, you’re mum’s waiting”

My mum? Did they call my mum? Did they find out I lied and called her in to kick me out of school?  I didn’t’ say anything, I just followed her back to the classroom, with my head hanging low.

As we entered the main hallway, I realized my why mum would be there.. It wasn’t because she was called in. It was the end of the day.

I had been forgotten. I had been totally forgotten, for the entire afternoon.

When I saw my mum, I ran into her arms. She hugged me, said goodbye to the teacher, took my hand and we walked out to the car, in silence.

When she buckled me in, and went around to the driver’s seat, mum looked at me, and said,

“Why did you say you weren’t allowed to watch TV?”

I looked at my mum, thinking of all the reasons I could say, the truth, or I had a headache, or I was scared, there were so many options.

I looked back up at the school, watching as other girls and boys ran out to meet their parents, laughing, shouting goodbye to all their friends. Smiles on every one of their faces.

“Because we don’t have a TV at home”

My mum nodded, it was true, and that was a good enough answer. She didn’t need to know it was all to become friends with the five-year-old prom queen.

And that, right there –  was my first day at a New Zealand “regular” school
And, my very last.

Leave the soap – Part 2.

Welcome back! 🙂

First – read part 1

(Or this will seem even more random than it is!)

So as you can see – things were slightly awkward in the first few minutes of being in this room with mr crazyo. But it had only just begun.
I got dressed, (In the bathroom)  and went back into the room…. This is where he started with his war theory. I sat, for 10 minutes, staring at him as he moved around the room, explaining his theory of 40 million people dying. His hair flying manically around his face, his arm twitching and his little, crazy, laugh slipping out as he said something he really enjoyed like

“Only survivor”

“Everyone you’ve ever known killed!”

I didn’t know what to do. I  kinda started to laugh when he finished.

What did he expect me to take from that? So awkward!!

Then he picked up his camera, thought for a minute – put it back down, and then he showed me where I could move.
He had no lights – so, I had one corner of the couch that I could sit in – that happened to be the one corner of the room with a low lit lamp on the wall. I had to bend, to make sure my face was under it. But not just bend – like, tilt my head to one side, half laying down, but propping myself up because he wanted it to just look like I was siting… and – do all that while looking like I’m just casually sitting comfortably on a chair.
But then……

“Your happy, your sad, your frightened, your surprised, your scared, petrified, joyful, mysterious, curious, angry, loving, sorrow-full, disappointed nervous, hurt, sick, excited, and shameful.”

He picked up his camera again.

“Oh, all at once?”

Camera went down, his bouncing around the room, Flinging hair, and swaying arms started again. The excitement – or exasperation – or – just full on randomness – rose in his voice. He was louder, slightly squeakier, and suddenly much more pronounced!

“Yes, yes, all at once. You’re an actor, I am testing you, show me what you can do”

“OK”

So, I started again.

“No, No No, Too many photographers focus on your face, why do all  photographers you work with want pictures of your face?! I want to destroy art. But that, in itself is art too! I want you to show all these emotions, all at once, but not showing your face, show them to me, with your body – maybe even just a finger!”

I really couldn’t help but laugh. Bob here was officially crazy. I posed, I moved, I fell on the floor, (When I did that he loved it!) he asked L to smudge my make up, we made me look as ugly as possible. The more ragged, scraggly, awkward I looked, the happier he got. Not awkward in the, yeah cool this is great high fashion, awkward. More like, awkward looking after the longest  night of your life, no sleep same clothes for day’s – not brushing your hair, getting beaten up in a dark alley, crying your eyes out –  and then dragged through a bush and a garbage heap –  to a photo shoot – and put in front of the camera –  awkward.

So, after an hour and a half of all this crazy-ness, including some Shower shots (No, I didn’t take my clothes off.. I was fully dressed, standing in the shower, with no water running, holding a cell phone… Not quite sure what his vision was there, maybe he thought I’d start to strip once I got in the mood!?!?) 
It was time to go… so we had to take off the disaster he had made us make on my face. L asked him if we could use the products the hotel provide by the sink (soap, shampoo, moisturizer, etc.. at this hotel it was Kiss my face products!)
Bob shouted from the other room.

“Yes, feel free, take all that stuff from the bathroom, I’m leaving right now so need nothing!”

So we did.. We used stuff.. And took the rest.

After another bit of confusion, trying to understand the crazy scientists theory that because we didn’t do the army part of the shoot, he should pay me less than we had agreed on.(I don’t think so, Mr crazy!) And having to have my ID photographed, and my voice recorded on  his cell phone, saying I sign a release to the pictures (He had decided to take the whole “Paperless” thing very serious!)  Finally,  we left, picked up the car from the valet, and watching some interesting characters leave the hotel and bar, we drove away… quickly!
10 minutes later, I get a text message from  Mr Bob,

“You could have at least left the soap!”

Uh…. What? I was confused and reminded him that merely 20 minutes before he told us to take it all. (Although the soap – the tiny bar of soap, was actuuually the one thing we didn’t take, but had to use while we were there, and I guess the mess he made of my face needed to use the whole thing to scrub it all off!)
He then went into denying he said anything (Although we both heard it) and emailing texting and calling – basically just being a crazy person – and ending them all with:

“You took the soap!”

I was a little shaken up by it, it was after all, my first experience of a Hollywood photographer. However, I also found it pretty funny. L and I had a LOT of laughs that night, and ever since, about Crazy Bob and his flying hair.

But the bottom line is this girls and guy’s – according to Mr Bob, the lesson to learn is… when going to a photo shoot in a hotel, and the photographer say’s take what you want…

Always leave the soap!