The Foolish Owl

In the darkness of the rough forests, they inquired further of the Foolish Owl on its branch line.

Have you always been this way or was there an unfortunate incident involving a heavy object? Asked the Silicon man.

There have been many unfortunate incidents, said the Owl, But I have been this way since I quit the comfy nest and sat, swaying gently, upon a twig. The Owl turned her head to the side and blinked, as if to indicate which twig. One eye slightly previous to the other, silent again, turning back.

When I was just a chick, they continued, all confused fluff and bottle whiteness, I believed in the Wisdom of Owls. I knew in my beak and feathers that one day I would function much like an online search engine, producing erudite and well researched answers and solutions.

Set a query, and I would draw upon my teeming memory banks of divers knowledges, with cross reference points abundant with handy extrapolation, to provide solutions. Digital images, bar charts, cake sections and interactive graphs, with swooping lines in a riot of colours, provided on request. Foot notes and appendices in conjunction. Workings written in pencil down the borders by the previous owner. A sticker inside the front cover declaring this tome belong to Molesworth. Ink splatters across, cat ears turned down.

The proud day came when I was set upon a suitable branch, talons tight with anticipation, to await all enquiries, to fulfil my calling.

A wanderer, passing on two feet, leading a lame horse on three, happened upon and asked, What is the remedy, oh Wise Owl, for a hurty horse hoof.

 I carefully typed in the request, with date and time signature digitally attached. I located and hit the enter panel on the right centre of the keyring with confidence. The whirring and circulation of my brain was a wonder to experience. Then out the left field came the solution upon a postcard from the seaside. I faithfully delivered.

The solution to your problem, innocent wanderer, is as follows;

Take four cloves of garlic, unpeeled, two slices of bread and a short section of garden hose, two or three centimetres should suffice. Place them in a saucepan. Cover with a soft cloth, adorned in red and white checkered patterned and steam gently for two days. Do not allow the solution to come to the boil. During this time, you may visit your grandmother, collect some broken sticks in a sack and hide them in the barn, write to your Minister and request a delay, give your neighbour some flowers and compliment her cooking. When the bread and garlic are soft, start a crossword, peel a carrot, estimate the time of arrival and grease the king pin.

That same evening, crochet a table runner and place all the above items on it, beneath a waxing moon. Use the hose to weigh down the corners if a breeze gets up. Light the blue touch paper and stand back-to-back.

I think you’ll find that the horse’s hoof will be cured forthwith, I said with a flourish in my voice.

I was somewhat taken aback by the look on the man’s face. It appeared that a toffee which he had been enjoying had become glued in his teeth. At that time, I thought no more of it, as he disappeared into the forest with his horse limping after him.

My mentor review was troubling. It appeared that I had somehow interlaced the remedies for gout, repairing a gasket and maintenance of a goods wagon.  My confidence was shaken, I vowed caution on my next outing and set to revising.

They sent me back to owl school to relearn all those wise ways and unravel the necessary solutions. But I woke up late and went out playing hopscotch with the rabbits. I looked out of the classroom window and followed the uncertain flight path of a passing dandelion.  Behind the art room I rolled cigarettes and avoided eye contact. Before my final examination and in-depth viva, I saw a mouse, it saw me, and my reference book fell from my talon and was lost. I did no revision and could not answer a single question.

Unabashed I took to my allotted branch and waited for a new challenge, and low, a young woman came to me and asked me the best way to make a turnip feed her family for more than a week, without salt.

Pleased to be of use, I once more typed in the question on my hand held, my laptop having been confiscated. The whirling between my ears sounded professional and soon a post it note with the answer inscribed, appeared on the fridge, between the magnet with a picture of a pig, accompanied by an amusing poem and the menu for our local pizza take up.

I cleared my beak and read out the answer with a proud stance;

Take the turnip and cut it into fourteen equal pieces, multiply by seven and soak the remains in a solution of oil of olives, thinned with turpentine. Scrape away the loose rust and treat the surface roughly with a wire brush or scoring sponge. Measure the length and width of the material needed to replace the old and pin the new into position using some coach bolts and a gramophone. Steep in coca lola during the night and divide by the number you first thought of.

At this point, the impression that all was not well grew slowly, like a plant. Yet still I felt the responsibility to plough through the hedge of words.

Take a compass reading and strike out in a north westerly direction, marking the trees on your left with a white cross at shoulder height. When the grout has cured, wipe over the surface with a soft cloth and leave to stagnate for a year and a half. Left over right, through the loop and back into the bunnies’ ears.

My courage and voice faltered as I realised that I had once again failed the test of time.

I cleared my calendar and prepared a working surface.

The wanderer thanked me, but never returned. I notice that travellers, in the years to come, would cross to the other side of the forest, rather than ask my wisdom.

Perhaps, said the Silicon Man, you could accompany us to the great City of Az wherein I am searching for a memory and the CTB, here, is searching for some visual aid. Perchance we might find you some revision guides or an online tutorial that you may imbibe or assimilate some coherent facts to reinvigorate your wisdom.

Thank you kindly, said the owl sadly, I shall accompany you in a tandem of four.