The Saga of the Kirnathon
Long long ago in the ancient capital of Northmavine, and centre
of the Viking Universe, in the green and fertile paradise now
known as Queyfirth, there lived a light haulage contractor. A
quiet, moderate man, his daily duty was to ferry milk from the
dairy herds of Collafirth to the Ollick Liver Oil works in nearby
Sullom Voe, the workers craving the milky goodness for their healthy
teeth and glossy coats.
Kirning became a necessity after the historic trip of the 11th
August 1127. It was a moderate morning when Bob (for that was
his name) left Collafirth that day and comment was that he heard
the Rhubarb growing as he passed the Queyfirth Ness. A light breeze
from the North East carried the sound of Tammie Norries twittering
on the Skerries o' Skea.
When passing the North end of Lamba the wind dropped and the
temperature soared to simmit-laying –aff extremes. Bob had
become becalmed and trapped at the centre of the freak anti-cyclone
that had caused the Neep fields of a Mississippi cotton picking
delta town to go fozy two months previously.
As the sun reached its optimum zenith, the illicit cargo hidden
under the taft, bound for Trader Thomas, exerted its mystical
influence on our hero. Unable to resist, Bob convinced himself
that Skollay wouldn't miss the profits of one horn of Neep Spirit,
distilled from the world renowned Tirvister Neep Platching Vats
of the Shergenay Region of Gluss.
And lo, the combination of the heat and the pukes-a-day (meaning
“water of life” in the old tongue) caused Bob to Neab.
Bob arose from his Neep-induced stupor and glanced at his handsome
bronze plated row-locks scallop wrist sun dial and discovered
that a whole day had elapsed.
Bob skoited skyward and saw a weather head and realized that
the wind was on its way, either that or it was the kell heart
he had eaten for his breakfast the previous day. After a time
Bob felt the spindrift on his starn and retrieved his posterior
in over the gunnel, hoisted his mainsail and set course once more
for Sullom Voe. In order to warn the workers of his imminent arrival,
Bob thought he would set off his distressed flares but the wind
chill started to freeze up his block and tackle so he drew them
back on again.
After a choppy passage the longboat was secured to tressel No
4 and was immediately pounced upon by Quality Control Officers
B Magnuson and Yaffle Von Kirningbottom who demanded to dip their
churns.
To Bob's dismay when the hold was opened the cargo was found
to be off spec and quality control would not accept his load.
Disgruntled, Bob grabbed an oar and stirred amongst the milk
thinking he might yet salvage something from this disastrous trip.
Suddenly creamy yellow lumps started floating to the surface in
the milk receptacle. His natural curiosity getting the better
of him, Bob tasted the solids and found that they were Fan-Dabby-Dozy!!!
Delighted that his long and dangerous voyage may not all have
been in vain, Bob hastily called back the Quality Control Inspectors
and insisted they taste the Golden globules.
Yaffle Von Kirningbottom sampled some on the point of his finger
and declared it wisna bad ava!! Grub-boxes were hastily opened
and Broonies presented for klining. Bob waited with baited breath
as the savoury treats were consumed. When the inspectors announced
their satisfaction Bob heaved a great sigh of relief and started
thinking of the fortune that was sure to follow this momentous
discovery.
However, due to a slight hitch with the patenting system, ie
there was none, there ensued an unrestrained free for all with
anyone having access to milk kirning for all they were worth to
try and maximize profit from the unfolding bonanza.Through time
supply exceeded demand and a whole economic system which had evolved
around butter collapsed in the Waas Road crash of '42. That however
is a story for another time.
With the dairy products market in total disarray and a butter
Ness big enough to feed the third world for years, there was no
need for the frenzied kirning that had gone on up to this time.
People still yearned for the buzz that came with frantic kirning
however, so competitions were set up to feed the public's need.
It was not until the dawn of the second Millenium however, that
these became the formalized kirnathons that we know today. These
are now among the largest sporting events on the calendar, alongside
Merry Tiller Grand Prix racing.
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