Since the heat struck a few days ago the telly has Ad’s for all sorts of Summer stuff. But the most mystifying are the ones for spas. Spas in Ireland are the sister equivalent to the golf courses that erupted like weeds all over the place. So much so that you could damn near wallop a dimpled ball from coast to coast on whatever line one happened to choose. Spas performed a similar function and given the sheer volume of them they are offering all sorts of ‘treatments’. Some of these treatments are just off the ruddy wall. What conceivable good can come from having a bunch of fluvial stones placed on spots down ones back, heated or otherwise. I could see a benefit were these of a heft that might cause serious pressure, but these are about the size of a fist. As to aroma therapy, lets just say ‘a right proper seeing to’ would probably remove catarrh much more effectively. Anyway, it seems every third or so Ad’s on the telly is for this or that Spa. And this or that treatment. But what is a Keralan threader. And why the devil would some smiling chick from the Deccan plateau be headhunted to some health resort in the depths of the Irish countryside.
In 1985 and since the price of Wool has been so low that it costs more to get it off the sheep than it is worth by some distance. And since the national flock isn’t and never was of sufficient numbers to demand a cohort of fully professional shearers like they have in the Argentine, Australia and New Zealand. Even in the UK, or France for that matter, the flock numbers won’t justify such an economic group. So what we get each year is an influx of professionals from those countries where they would be otherwise unemployed during the southern autumn and winter. They arrive here in Europe and do much like the harvesting gangs in the American mid west and Canada, move north with the summer. In France from the first week in May and will shear about 150+sheep per day through France England Wales Ireland, ending up in Scotland about the third week in June. Leaving behind them thousands upon thousands of happy tidy trimmed sheep well able to withstand the suns rays. Frankly, use of the word gambol wouldn’t be over-egging the pudding when you see the difference pre and post the clip.
Being assiduous in my devotions to the blogosphere. Or in other words bored witless watching schlock on the telly where the darn Ad’s had more creative and acting content than the programming they bracket. Anywoos, I went questing the new to me term/profession; Keralan threader. And if the gobshite poring your coffee deserves the compliment of the Profession of Barista then these ladies (for ladies it is to a man) deserve at the very least an MD. For having searched the internet and nary a peep with the term. I asked the ladies of the family. Who informed me. Well, it seems, the gals from Kerala perform much the same function as those gangs from the antipodes.
I don’t know if this profession has extended outside Ireland. OR even how long these women have come to Ireland to perform their magical painless metamorphoses. But it would seem they are in early this year as normally the requirements don’t occur til the kids are off school and the Mná na hÉireann are out and about on beaches and swimming pools. So this year it seems they will have three trips to the ol’sod instead of the normal two.
As to the why’s I’m writing about this. Well I’m not going to be the only one with these visions in my mind. And if you think there is nothing that would deserve a MD then remember the way they go about their task has them holding a thread between one hand and the mouth while drawing with the other.