Equus Asinus

– Rubí Donkey writes her Rubí Tuesday blogue.

Today she reviews the first nine days of the Peasant’s virtual pilgrimage from Worcester to Compostela which Morris read to her, because Rubí says, “I just does the writtin and I can’t be arsed to do the readin.”

Morris has been watchin the news on his pooter and it’s lookin like the Covid virus will soon be over. He says sign-tests have invented a vaseline for it. (I don’t know what sign-tests are: maybe Morris meant wizards?) Aitana says she’s not goin to have the vaseline becuse someone in the Q-nits newsgroup said zombies have put microchips in the vaseline and it will turn her into a quagga. A quagga is a half donkey and half zebra, but I never saw one and I think it’s only in a Pinocchio film in her head. A figment of her emaciation.

“Well, I think you’d look very sexy as a quagga,” Morris told her. “With stripey legs and long eyelashes.” And they wandered off to a quiet corner of the field, Morris with his tongue hangin out and she goin the goofy ‘My Little Pony’ for him. Wot a revoltin sight! Thank goodness they’re disappearin behind the tree.

If there’s a vaseline for the virus soon, we won’t have to wear all this PPE. Aitana has got used to wearin latex gloves on her hooves which she says give her a 1950s look, like Audrey Hepburn, and she will appear one day on the cover of Vague magazine. Silly horse!

Morris swoons over Aitana’s latex hoof-gloves, so we’ll never get them off her.

After the vaseline has killed-off the virus we’ll be back to the “old normal” and the Peasant’s friends can come to El Parral again for a barbecue or paella afternoon. Or would that be the “new old normal”? I wouldn’t call all the Peasant’s friends normal but they are certainly old and it’s good becuse they bring carrots and there’s usually a glass of flat beer left over for Matilde, except she ends up talkin more rubish than the Peasant, before she stands all quiet with her ears down and I’m left on my own to look at the mountain, guard against lions and do thinkin.

Where was I? Oh yes, today in my Rubí Tuesday blogue I want to review the Peasant’s latest mad idea, wot is his “virtule pigrimnage” from Wooster to Campostellar that he’s doin. He says he’s havin two “virtule rest days” just now “in London” (but – spoiler alert – I know he’s acherly here in El Parral havin a beer.) Rest days? That’s a bit of a joke as his whole retirement is a rest day. The Peasant talks about being a hermit. Well I don’t see much prayin goin on. Or maybe I missed somethin and a hermit is someone enclosed in a brewery store room. But that’s just me, Mrs Rubí Barker-Bray bein nosey again… Anyway, this means I can do my Rubí Tuesday blogue without him arguin there’s no space for it this week.

He began his pigrimnage in Wooster on Day 1 bein sent off by the Dean of the cathedral. Yes, I can understand why they always send the Peasant off. He’s been sent off from a number of places when he wasn’t expectin it, so I suppose goin somewhere that he expects to be sent off from is more reassurin, as he is not caught out by surprise at bein unfairly sent off.

I’m still not sure wot a pigrimnage is, even if the Peasant did talk about the meanin of pigrimnage on Day 9, he hasn’t exactly mentioned seein any pigs between Wooster and London. Maybe he’ll find some pigs later in France or Bordeaux or somethin and arrive in Campostellar drivin a herd of pigs into the cathedral to get them blessed… Ha! That will really get him sent off.

I’m not entirely sure about the way he tells the pigrimnage, and the philosiopy bits are weird idea, but you can always skip those and just read the stupid bits. And the same with the religious bits. Who wanted to read about Cardinal Newman anyway? As big mummy Matilde donkey says, “We know there’s a God becuse the straw arrives every month in the Nutrivila van with the cow picture on the side.” After Tito unloads the straw he stands next to the Peasant looking up at the Castellets in the silence of El Parral and he says, “God is good.” So that’s how we found out.

He’s telling the Peasant that the straw came from God, all the way up that mountain, and he brings it down like Moses bringin the stone tablets. But Moses didn’t go up there every month or the Israelites would have too many tablets to drag through the desert and they’d never get to the Promised Land and they’d moan at Moses for ruinin their pigrimnage. (The Israelites were always moanin: none of ’em would be much company on the Peasant’s virtule pigrimnage, would they?)

So, Tito brings thirty bales instead of two stone tablets, and so far there’s been absolutely no commandments of any sort written on the straw bales. So the Peasant hasn’t got any rools to obey yet in his hermitage, and is still waitin. But there is a God becuse Matilde worked it out. He’s just a bit slow learnin how to do writtin on the straw tablets.

So it’s obvious there is a God. Why the Peasant needs to go on about it all and ruin a good pigrimnage, I’m not too clear. Unless it’s to help those virtule pigrimns, wot he’s talkin to as he walks to Campostellar, who haven’t seen Tito bringin the straw from God? That’s prolly what it’s about.

Oh oh… Aitana’s back from bein rood with Morris.

“Can you stay behind the tree please, Aitana! Social distance! Remember! Hooves – Face – Space! Morris chewed your face-mask off again.”

Walkin Out of the World (WOW), a Virtule Pigrimnage from Wooster to Campostellar, will continue tomorrow when the Peasant gets sent off from Westminster Cathedral in London. Clearly, they didn’t want him there either.

If you like my Rubí Tuesday blogue please comment below to say so, or the Peasant will use up my Tuesday blogue spots – like he did last week – for his virtule pigrimnage, .