STONES IN MY CLOG

Short stories from the life and practice of Bernard Preston, chiropractor.

Two short stories from Stones in my Clog are now available at the end of this page.

On leaving South Africa for a sojourn in Holland, I found such an intriguing and quite different people in the southernmost province of Limburg. People of a very old culture, their land frequented by the Romans as they tramped their way to England and Gaul, leaving their culture and genes, and a thousand artifacts splattered along the way.

These are amongst the most cultured and decent people I have ever met. When you walk through the Roman baths built more than 2000 years ago in the small city of Heerlen, then called Coriovallum, or tramp the quaint streets of Maastricht, you become very aware of time. Or if you like a good Limburg beer in a little pub, or to sit outdoors on their 'terrase' enjoying a coffee and vlaai (a unique Limberg tart), or even sit in the beautiful twelfth century church in Klimmen, again it's the passage of time that touches. Like a bottle of vintage red wine, these folk have matured and stood the tests of time. And not been found wanting.

The armies of Caeser, of Charlemagne, of Napoleon, of Spain and of Hitler have rolled over Limburg, each leaving their mark. These people are survivors, a wondrous, warm-hearted nation. I'm privileged to count many dear friends amongst them.

How could I not write about them?

The title?

I was once privileged to enjoy the ministry of an ancient Presbyterian preacher who loved to pop stones in your shoe. I say 'enjoy'. His sermons were indeed enjoyable, but they were certainly not of the sort that you had forgotten by the time you reached your car. Calvin's sermons stayed with me for weeks and months, irritating, goading and stirring. Some I still remember as clearly as the day he passionately preached of the Christ he so loves.

The Limburgers too have have disturbed my sense of balance with their strange beliefs and customs. Is it possible to grasp that there exists a people who would no sooner marry a stranger to their bed than purchase a car they had never driven? The Limburgers 'shack up' for several years before marrying, usually when they are ready to have children. Yet, their marriages seem just as true, perhaps truer, and to my mind just as faithful and enduring. Or is that an illusion? Is a common-law marriage just as valid and binding in the eyes of God?

For better or for worse, the times they are a-changing.

Stones in my Clog will be published in 2009.

Here I leave you with two short stories from Stones in my Clog:

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