It is believed that Mollymook is a corruption of Mollymawk, the name given by sailors to a small albatross that lives in the Southern Ocean. Mollymook to me means McCrossin and ice guns containing liquid nitrogen and sharp scalpels for taking biopsies.
While discussing the state of the world and our small parts in it, Dr Ian McCrossin, M.B.,B.S.,F.A.C.D.,F.A.Ch.S.H.M., took a rather generous chunk out of my left arm, cauterised it, and sent it off to Pathology.
"Stay out of the water for the next two weeks to give it time to heal", he said, "and I call you when the results of the biopsy have come in."
What? Two weeks without being in the pool with all the other people? What will they talk about without me? Probably about me, no doubt!
I consoled myself with a lunch at KFC and stocking up with a few more books at Vinnies and the Uniting Church and the Lions Club Bookshop: "A History of the English Language in 100 Places"; "Reading Like A Writer - A Guide For People Who Love Books and For Those Who Want To Write Them"; "Pardon Me For Mentioning ... Unpublished Letters to The Age and The Sydney Morning Herald"; "The World of Charmian Clift" (I already have a copy but this one is in so much better condition); and another Julian Barnes, "The Only Story". I tossed in a $1-DVD, the BBC documentary "Killing Hitler", because no-one else seemed to want it.
Oh, and I did have time to check out the Batemans Bay Chess Club at the Catalina Country Club, Ernie! I beat the club president James in the first game, but then got trounced in the second game. Maybe I already had my thoughts on all those books I was going to read when I get home.
I'll see you in two weeks' time, Ernie, when I bring with me the missing apostrophe in "Ernies Kitchens". My regards to Jake the fake Lifeguard!
