Maeve O'Treasaigh

http://www.tourcachevalley.com/ This is for Cache County in Northern Utah

Mmm....Won Ton soup cures all!

Aye! Happy Birthday Chole! And a sincere thank you for all the phone conversations and advice with piratical clothing! I hope your birthday is filled with fun, charm, laughter, and decadent food. :-)

A Coke...trying to ease the queasiness of bad food from last night and to burn out the "pipes" with some good old fashioned phosphoric acid.

Ooh. Wassail and French Toast. *Maeve rudely cuts to the front of the line*

It's alright. Firefly will keep...it's like a fine wine. :-) Best to be safe. There are always other weekends. Syren, I will interrogate you soon and see what you think!

We're currently having a mild blizzard at the moment. Whee!!!

Haha! Well, I'm sure my mistake of "D-Day" at least got everyone's attention! Cursed rubber keyboard...can't type on this thing!

Even though it's not technically until tomorrow (Dec. 17th) I wanted to get a jump on wishing the happiest o' birthday's to my one and only love: The extraordinary, creative, warm, funny, talented, one-and-only William Red Wake! How about a nice slice of Carrot Cake?

Though Maeve hadn’t been upon the Watch Dog for very long, she laughed inwardly at feeling a bit surprised by the strangely resolute, non-moving nature of solid ground. Of course she’d expected it, but it never ceased to amaze and completely occupy her senses every time. Her steps felt awkwardly wooden and plodding as she fell in with Miss Smith behind the Marines. She kept a hand on her hat as they walked, the strong breeze threatening to make small work of her hastily and loosely tied strings. The small group arrived shortly at the Admiralty House where Mr. Franklin proceeded to inquire about finding a space for Mr. Wellings from the officer on duty, Lieutenant Barclay. He complied with their request readily enough upon hearing the circumstances and directed the group to the Customs House of Aglionby. It was a spacious place and the clerk’s office they were led to overlooked the docs via large, ornate windows. Two clerks, busy in their ledgers, squinted and looked up in surprise as they all entered the room. Both men, in their 40’s, were identical in appearance. They conversed quickly in French with Lieutenant Barclay who explained that they had need of space within this room to house an injured man in need of surgery. This prospect did not appear to be welcomed by these brothers who began to argue that any other space would serve just as well. They argued for some time before the Lieutenant, nonplussed by their obvious resentment, stated matter-of-factly that the issue was not up for discussion and instructed the men to help make the place ready for delivery of the patient. Mr. Franklin hid a chuckle beneath his hand, turning to cough politely. The men glared daggers at the Lieutenant, who merely winked at Maeve and Miss Smith even as a placid and half-laughing smile played across his features. The two women exchanged quick glances with each other, eyes smiling, and Mr. Franklin coughed again. In short order, the clerks gathered up a few ledgers and writing supplies for themselves and left the room, cursing and issuing threats under their breaths about the state the room had better be in when they returned. Lieutenant Barclay bowed politely at the door, still smiling. “Good day to you all”, he said and then departed, closing the door behind him. Mr. Franklin sent Hingerty and Pascal after the Lieutenant to keep watch for the return of the Captains and Mr. Wellings. In the meantime he, Tudor, Alan and Maeve set to work making the space ready for the patient.

Hmm....I need an antacid after that delicious crumble.

Maeve stood over her tools as she came down from the adrenaline of being startled awake by Miss Smith's knocking. Rubbing her hands over her eyes again, she double checked the items in her bag based on Tudor's description of Mr. Wellings' injuries and nodded to herself. Maeve also second guessed her decision to have BriarRose stay behind in the surgery with Luigi and Treasure, but as the Captain had only ordered the surgeon ashore, she pushed her doubts aside as she made to leave the surgery with Miss Smith. Briar looked after her with obvious anxiety and some frustration, but merely smiled comfortingly at Maeve as she left. Tudor and Maeve found the marines waiting as they reached the waist of the ship. With all due haste, they made their way down into the longboats to make their way into St. Pierre.

Sits beside Syren and asks for a nice bowl of chicken won-ton soup....please :-)

"Aye indeed so", Maeve demured. "It's generous size is handlin' ma three patients quite nicely". "Excellent", the Captain replied simply. "And Able Seaman MacTigue?" "Well sir, he's goin' ta be fine, but seein' as how his fingertip was nearly torn off, it'll be quite tender and unusable for a while. I would like ta suggest that his duties remain light until I determine him fit for regular duties again", the "doctor" suggested quietly. This moment made her a bit nervous in truth. She found it difficult to assert her judgement in the matter to not only a man, but a ship's captain. "It's my hope that he won't lose it", she ammended. The captain nodded. "How long, Miss O'Treasaigh?", he inquired. Maeve's eyes lifted up and away to the left as she thought on this. "Perhaps a fortnight Captain, maybe more", she replied. "Understood. I leave the matter in your capable hands", he said. "Please explain the matter to Mr. Roberts", he added, gesturing toward a man standing in the waist of the ship who was barking orders among the able seamen. "Aye Captain", she said. "Thank you sir", she added as she made a polite departure from the Captain's company towards the bosun's mate. Jack's demeanor changed immediately from stern taskmaster to that of genuine smiles as the chirurgeon approached him. He listened carefully with perfect and polite attention as Maeve related the condition of Moses and the subsequent need for lighter duties due to his injury. With his acknowledgment of the situation, Maeve returned to the surgery, eager to finish the task of unpacking.

BriarRose poked her head into the surgery, eyes inquisitive. "Yes Maeve?" The chirurgeon smiled. "Would ya be so kind as to mind Mr. Moses here while I go and make a report to the captain?", she asked as she cleaned the last of the blood from her own hands. The patient had done admirably, grunting with interspersed curses under his breath, but nothing more. He had begun sweating and was a bit pale, but that appeared to be the extent of his distress. "Of course dear", BriarRose replied, stepping out into the surgery and appraising Moses MacTigue and his crewmate. Maeve could already see thoughts of a poultice or ointment concoction forming behind Briar's eyes as she left the surgery and headed to find the captain. It had been 2 years since she had walked the deck of ship in full sail. It was with a strange feeling of nostalgia that she walked upon the deck and cast about, looking for the Captain. She spotted him upon the quarterdeck on the larboard side and proceed up the ladderway to address him, feeling the weight of many eyes following her as she went.

Two figures suddenly bustled in through the door of the surgery. Simon Dunwalt led a grimacing Moses MacTigue into the presence of the chirurgeon and her companion. Maeve was honestly surprised to have yet another injury so soon but recovered herself quickly as she moved forward immediately to address the two men. “What’s happened here”, she asked calmly. It took effort, but she’d realized early on that rising to the emotions and panic felt by those in the situation never, ever helped. “A rope injury ma’am”, Simon volunteered, even as Maeve carefully took Moses’ hand to try and inspect it through all the blood. Before she could turn to ask, Briar said that she would fetch a bucket of water right away. Treasure stood up quickly from where she was and offered her place for Moses to sit down as the cabin was still crowded and unorganized with personal items and the items the captain has generously bribed Maeve with. As Dunwalt led the injured man to sit down, Maeve inquired after his name. “Moses MacTigue”, he offered through gritted teeth. The chirurgeon began asking Moses questions about the injury and how it had happened. He explained as she searched for and found some rags. Miss Kildaire was back in an instant with a small bucket of fresh water which she placed, without comment, next to Maeve and the injured man. “Alright now, let’s have a look at that hand”, she said, taking Moses’ hand carefully and wiping away the blood with a sopping wet rag. The extent of the injury quickly became apparent. The skin on the index finger of his right hand was completely torn from the second knuckle and bunched up around the tip of his finger. He proved to be a good patient, allowing his face to register pain, even as he held relatively still while she worked. The next part would prove more challenging. Behind her, Treasure and Briar looked on, unintentionally crowding her, so she gave them tasks. “Briar, could ya find and bring my suturin’ supplies ta me? And Treasure, please look in that box over there”, she said pointing, “and bring me the bottle of rum in it”. Both ladies kindly acquiesced. “Well Miss?”, Moses asked. “’Ow bad is it? M’ I goin’ ta loose it?” Worry surfaced through a mask of controlled pain. The chirurgeon shook her head. “No sir, ya won’t be losin’ the finger. It’s just goin’ ta be tender for a good long time and won’t be pretty anymore is all”, she said with a reassuring smile. Maeve turned to Simon then. “If ya don’t mind, I’ll need ya ta help keep ‘im steady while I’m stitchin’ him up alright?”. It wasn’t a question that she expected him to answer. She simply expected him to comply, and he seemed willing enough. Treasure returned with the rum which Maeve offered to Moses and encouraged him to drink generously. Briar came over to her side with the needed supplies. Maeve smiled at her friend and then rolled her eyes up meaningfully towards Treasure, who again stood behind her, hovering. Without a word, Briar implicitly understood her and rose, asking Treasure to help her finish unpacking their things. Maeve prepared her needle and thread slowly, not to torture her patient, but to give the rum time to enter the man’s systems. She spoke lightly, asking Moses general questions about himself; and while she wasn’t truly interested in the answers, it allowed her to engage with her patient in such a way that she had an easy excuse to look into his eyes and wait for them to begin dilating. From experience, she knew then that the alcohol was doing its trick and it was time to start. As she began to manipulate ravaged skin and tissue and start the first stitch, Maeve also began to hum a tune.

Ah Jill...thank you so much. It was divine. :-)

“Maeve?” The chirurgeon turned from the gunport window to look at Briar. “Have you seen Mandrake? I haven’t seen him. Is he running about the ship?”, she inquired. Miss O’Treasaigh’s face fell slightly and she clasped her hands together tightly in front of her. “No”, she explained slowly, looking BriarRose in the eyes, her own full of apology. “It was the Captain’s decision not ta take the cat onto his ship, and I didn’t argue the point seein’ as how it’s his ship… and thought it a small accession ta make for the price of escape and freedom”. Treasure looked up from her book, taking silent interest in the conversation. Maeve could feel her eyes on the both of them now. Miss Kildare’s face was suddenly alight with indignation. Her mouth fell open several times, Maeve thought to argue, but finally, she said nothing as she sat down on a pair of stacked crates in the surgery. After a time Briar finally said one word. “Why”, she asked, looking at Maeve with slightly watery eyes. Maeve’s feelings of guilt grew deeper in that moment. “Awe Briar I’m sorry. I didn’t think it a very serious matter what with only knowin’ the little thing for a handful of days. You weren’t here ta ask…and as I said, he's the Captain and I didn’t feel it appropriate ta argue over such a thing with him what with him bein’ ma new employer and all…”, her voice trailed off. She wanted to put an arm around her friend but thought that maybe she would need a little space. Miss Tribbiani spoke up. “If it helps”, she ventured carefully, “there are several cats already on board, and most are friendly. I also have a dog, Argus, that the Captain was kind enough to allow me to bring aboard”, she said. BriarRose face seemed to darken more at her words. “ He’s currently on probation at the moment… I could lose him at any time”, she added quickly as she realized that having the Captain allow her pet on board and not Miss Kildare’s would wound the woman all the more. “He’s a good pup and will be a friend to you too if you let him”, she finished, smiling hopefully. Miss Kildare managed a wan smile at Treasures words, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Though her displeasure was not leveled at Miss Tribbiani, she couldn’t bring herself to give the woman more than that. After a moment, she stood, not voicing her thoughts allowed. “Well…we still have a lot of things to unpack and arrange”, she said quietly, and began again to do just that.

I'm in need a mid-afternoon snack. Some Apple crisp if you please?

BriarRose and Maeve had good-naturedly laughed off Treasure’s idea of wearing men’s clothing. While it did seem to be suitable for labors aboard ship, it conversely didn’t seem practical for the two women who would be practicing medicine rather than scrabbling up ropes and the swaying heights of a ship. In truth, Maeve thought it bordering on scandalous to see a woman’s legs so visible. Miss Tribbiani made frequent offers of assistance to the two ladies as they moved about the surgery and cabin unpacking and arranging their new domicile. These, of course, they refused politely and finally reminded her of the Captain's orders to “tie her down”. This reminder seemed to quiet the poor lass. In the midst all their re-arranging, Maeve heard the shouts of the crew as they made ready to set sail. Anxious to look upon her beloved Martinique one last time, Maeve moved to the gun port window in their generously spacious quarters as the ship heaved to and away from the docks.

It's rainy and stormy today. I'm in need of some comfort food....

Maeve brushed back damp strands of hair from her face. The humidity seemed even more oppressive here on the boat and so she had flung open the old gun ports in the surgery and in her shared quarters in an attempt to garner relief in having some moving air. She turned and smiled at Briar's sudden appearance and question. "I'm glad ta see ya made it safely". Quickly, she filled in Miss Kildare regarding the status of the two patients already in their care. There was really nothing more to do as far as Luigi and Miss Tribbiani were concerned and so she gestured to their quarters immediately behind where she stood. "I could use yer help movin' in the rest of our things", she said lightly. "Then we should set about givin' this surgery room a good scrubbin' an' take inventory of everythin' we have available to us in here", she concluded. Within moments, the two of them were completely embroiled in their tasks as a bored Miss Tribbiani looked on.