My Journal by Harriman Nelson - Transitions
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TRWD37B

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
37 B

By the time the girls returned to Seaview, the Observation Nose was set up with tablecloth clad serving tables, and an extra conference table and chairs to join the present one. Edith bemoaned the fact that the tablecloths on all had deep fold lines in them. This might be a ‘casual’ lunch, but she doubted the queen would allow any kind of wrinkles in her tablecloths.
And so, to Cookie’s evident disgust the cloths were removed and sent to the laundry for pressing. The metal dish warmers looked rather pathetic without the linen under them.
But it would only be for a while and there was still time to get everything shipshape in Bristol fashion. I had to laugh as I wrote that down. The phrase had originated from the fact that Bristol, England had been a major port and always in good order. Naval use was inevitable, though I was sure the phrase had declined, even in the Royal Navy.

While the laundry was pressing out the table linen creases, including the napkins, and the galley was busy prepping the dishes, Jiggs and I had decided to wear dress blues. We weren’t sure what the boys were going to wear but we assumed the same. This might not be an official visit from a foreign head of state, but we were still representatives of both our country and naval reserve. And of course, Seaview’s uniforms were almost the same.
By the time I returned to the Observation Nose, Jiggs was already there, the linens had been reset and even the serving warmers looked as if they’d been polished. Crockery and cutlery were stacked appropriately. The sideboard boasted various spirits, glass tumblers sparkling beside them. No champagne though. Only Johnny Walker. The peatreek that Lee had purchased at Land’s End was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness.
There were also cups and saucers should anyone want coffee, and yes, even tea, their carafes to be set out just prior to the royal arrival.
Chip had just posted an honor guard topside, also in their dress blues, a very uncommon thing for them aboard Seaview, and I was glad the weather was cooperating. No bulky parkas or greatcoats for them while they waited.
Suddenly Sparks whistled and we saw an embarrassed O’Brien enter through the aft hatch, his kilt swaying as he came forward.
“I um…I figure since you and the skipper wore kilts earlier, I should probably wear one for my great aunt.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” I said, “have a seat with us as we wait.”

Pretty soon the women joined us. Edith had a plaid headband, which really didn’t match her purple pantsuit. Mrs. C., in a black dress and plaid jacket and faux fur trimmed sleeves was arguing with her, telling Edith that she’d offend the queen by wearing purple, a traditional royal color.
“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” Edith said, heading to the sideboard. “She won’t even notice.”
“Let’s not imbibe yet,” I warned Edith as she reached for a tumbler. I’d really have to speak with her about her growing penchant for booze. It wasn’t like her and I wondered if anything had been bothering her lately. She responded by taking to one of the loungers that had been moved away from the buffet settings.
Emmie wore a light blue dress with a pearl necklace and earrings. Mrs. C. also decided to tell her that the queen favored pearls a lot, and that she too might cause offense. Emmie took her words in stride and sat down next to me in one of the stackable plastic chairs that had been brought forward for the extra ‘dinner table’.

“It’s almost time, Lee,” Chip, suitably uniformed as Jiggs and I were, was speaking into the Control Room’s mike.
“Right there,” he answered.

Joe came through the aft hatch first, also in dress blues, but Lee, following him, surprised us by wearing a kilt, and not one we’d seen him in before.
It was an aqua plaid, with some gold and purple ‘threads’. His eyepatch was the same plaid. Winston was wearing a matching plaid collar.
“That’s not one of the kilts you bought on the culinary tour,” Mrs. C. said as Lee bent over to kiss her on the cheek.
“No. I saw it in the window of a shop after my eye exam yesterday. Couldn’t go in, there was such a crowd around, but I called later and asked about it. It’s a tourist tartan. It doesn’t belong to any clan so I’m safe from any breech of protocol. I’m afraid I sent Riley to town to pick it up for me. He wanted to go ashore anyway but I gave him a hefty tip for his trouble.”
“But why bother to buy a new kilt?” Jiggs asked. “You’ve already honored our host nation by wearing a skirt. It’s not like you’re ever going to wear one again.”
“I knew it was impulsive. But the colors remind me of the fault, and we are in Scotland, after all. When Riley showed the shopkeeper my online receipt, and they suddenly knew the L.Crane was me, from one of my older bank accounts, they made an eyepatch right then and there, ‘gratis’. Gave Riley a narrow swatch of the fabric for me to glue to Winston’s collar too.”
“My son, the fashion plate,” Mrs. C. sighed.
“At least I’m wearing underwear,” Joe smirked.
“How’d you know I’m not?” Lee asked him.
“Because you bent over too far to kiss your mother.”
“Shit. Why didn’t you say something then?”
“Sorry, bro. You’re the one who wanted to be a ‘True Scot’. Goes with the territory.”
“We’re going to have a little talk later, Mr. Jackson.”
“Brrrr.”
“Breaking new on CNN,” Sparks called out and the monitor came to life.
“…The United States congress has assembled for a closed session in the capitol building. No details have been forthcoming except that the president called for the meeting. Rumor has it that it may have something to do with the People’s Republic, North Korea, Russia and a few other unnamed countries…,”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Mrs. C. said.
“Do you know anything about this, Harry?” Emmie asked me
"Skipper?" Sparks called out before any of us could lie, "City Hall says the sedans are on their way.”
Chip had the topside honor guard come to attention.
"After you, gentlemen," Lee said, nodding toward the topside ladder.

My Journal 37C