WORDS FOR WEDNESDAY BY VEST
And now for something completely different, all done in the best possible taste. and 99% true. Vest's words for this week are.
Dumped. Welcome. Incident.Sounded.Ended. Unaware, or and.
Moving. Attended. Responsible. Smell. Arrived. Window.
This story starts at around the same month I was on leave from my ship after the war in 1946 and follows the Albert Story.from last weeks ' Words', It then recalls earlier years.
My Foster Parent, who I referred to as Aunty had for a decade or more been enamoured to a local farmer a Mr Turner. I had observed from an early age about when I was six or seven the strange secret meetings of this pair of lovebirds.
Auntie’s former beau Mr Turner had dumped Auntie Parker when aged fifty-three and married the shop lady, a frumpy but more frisky forty-year-old, who was the mother of Joyce my former skinny dipping friend, who became a GI Bride and was shipped off to the USA shortly after the war ended. Auntie still living in hope, attended the dance and booze up at the village hall in Chalgrove; where I had arrived earlier, to collect my fifty pounds welcome home money generously supplied by those who were not veterans, The combined smell of beer body odour and kerosene lamp oil; was battling for supremacy over the stench of tobacco smoke. A dreary old band was playing ancient country yokel music, it was then I saw through the haze the familiar faces of (now married) Ernie and horse face Maggie Bellman, sitting next to their eleven-year-old twin daughters. It must be assumed then, it was Ernie who was responsible for the input of beautiful genes to their daughters who surprisingly looked quite pretty. Auntie remarked that I was probably aware of the time when Maggie conceived in the hayloft in 1933.
Dumped. Welcome. Incident.Sounded.Ended. Unaware, or and.
Moving. Attended. Responsible. Smell. Arrived. Window.
This story starts at around the same month I was on leave from my ship after the war in 1946 and follows the Albert Story.from last weeks ' Words', It then recalls earlier years.
My Foster Parent, who I referred to as Aunty had for a decade or more been enamoured to a local farmer a Mr Turner. I had observed from an early age about when I was six or seven the strange secret meetings of this pair of lovebirds.
Auntie’s former beau Mr Turner had dumped Auntie Parker when aged fifty-three and married the shop lady, a frumpy but more frisky forty-year-old, who was the mother of Joyce my former skinny dipping friend, who became a GI Bride and was shipped off to the USA shortly after the war ended. Auntie still living in hope, attended the dance and booze up at the village hall in Chalgrove; where I had arrived earlier, to collect my fifty pounds welcome home money generously supplied by those who were not veterans, The combined smell of beer body odour and kerosene lamp oil; was battling for supremacy over the stench of tobacco smoke. A dreary old band was playing ancient country yokel music, it was then I saw through the haze the familiar faces of (now married) Ernie and horse face Maggie Bellman, sitting next to their eleven-year-old twin daughters. It must be assumed then, it was Ernie who was responsible for the input of beautiful genes to their daughters who surprisingly looked quite pretty. Auntie remarked that I was probably aware of the time when Maggie conceived in the hayloft in 1933.
Shortly after I spoke to Ernie about the incident and we had a good belly laugh. Ernie told me that if I had not given the game away on that fateful day in the hayloft, he would probably still be single. It was at the time back in 1933 during the last days at the farm cottage before moving to monument road.
During the last few days at the cottage, I had caught chickenpox and had to stay away from school. The lady next door attended to my needs, being that Auntie Parker had taken the bus into town. I had been told she was staying overnight with Uncle Robert in Oxford. However, from my bedroom window, I had seen Auntie sitting on the bus, but why was she sitting next to farmer Turner?
The cottage or Whites farmhouse was some 400 years old and harboured many mysteries. I had arrived there in the middle of 1931 as a five-year-old with my six-year-old brother. One day while alone in the back bedroom the daughter of my Foster parent heard me talking and wondered whom I was having a conversation with. when I replied that it was a funny looking man with a large hat with feathers and buckled riding shoes they were aghast at my reply, the fact that I would have had little knowledge of what they presumed was a spectre from the Civil war days, a Cavalier during the renowned battle of Chalgrove field on Thursday the 18th of June. 1643. It is of little wonder that the family were moving to a more modern residence.
I remember well that afternoon two years later while I was resting, the same day that Aunty and Farmer Turner were seen on the Bus together I heard two distinct voices through the wall of my bedroom,. It sounded like they were coming from the hayloft. After a while, I crept downstairs and out of the back door. and by standing on the rain tank, I could see through the crack in the timber siding. Big Ernie Bellman was making love to horse-faced Maggie Sherbrook! Being only seven years of age, I was unaware of the significance of this tomfoolery. 'How dare they use our house for their skylarking."
I crept around to the front of the barn and quietly squeezed through the barn door. I moved the ladder to the hayloft and put the bar down on the barn door, closing it tightly with the pin. My carer, Mrs, James who lived next door, saw me near the front door and scolded me for being out of bed. I told her what had happened. Shortly afterwards, a large number of villagers gathered around the barn door and a cheer went up when Maggie and Ernie appeared rather sheepishly, making all manner of excuses.
I had begun to earn quite a reputation around the village. The following day, I got a smack from Auntie when she returned from her frolic with Mr Turner, I told her they were only doing what the Billy goat does to the Nanny Goat. However, Aunty's holier than thou attitude was wrecked in the village when local lad 'Ginger Spicer' - Ernies friend, revealed he had seen Aunty and farmer Turner at the same time he was in the Randolph hotel in Oxford when he was Courting the local butcher's daughter.
After having acknowledged Aunty's remark about the loft incident, and Aunty is in a merry mood, and stating " they must be taking turns to wear a bag over their heads" It was then that Maggie came over and kissed me - while I closed my eyes during this frightful experience she told me she was pleased to see me after so many years. Maggie, I thought; had a lot to thank me for and I believe she realised it
The accent of one's early years lives on in our mind.and in our heart as it does in our speech.
Vest Daily Gaggle.
I
During the last few days at the cottage, I had caught chickenpox and had to stay away from school. The lady next door attended to my needs, being that Auntie Parker had taken the bus into town. I had been told she was staying overnight with Uncle Robert in Oxford. However, from my bedroom window, I had seen Auntie sitting on the bus, but why was she sitting next to farmer Turner?
The cottage or Whites farmhouse was some 400 years old and harboured many mysteries. I had arrived there in the middle of 1931 as a five-year-old with my six-year-old brother. One day while alone in the back bedroom the daughter of my Foster parent heard me talking and wondered whom I was having a conversation with. when I replied that it was a funny looking man with a large hat with feathers and buckled riding shoes they were aghast at my reply, the fact that I would have had little knowledge of what they presumed was a spectre from the Civil war days, a Cavalier during the renowned battle of Chalgrove field on Thursday the 18th of June. 1643. It is of little wonder that the family were moving to a more modern residence.
I remember well that afternoon two years later while I was resting, the same day that Aunty and Farmer Turner were seen on the Bus together I heard two distinct voices through the wall of my bedroom,. It sounded like they were coming from the hayloft. After a while, I crept downstairs and out of the back door. and by standing on the rain tank, I could see through the crack in the timber siding. Big Ernie Bellman was making love to horse-faced Maggie Sherbrook! Being only seven years of age, I was unaware of the significance of this tomfoolery. 'How dare they use our house for their skylarking."
I crept around to the front of the barn and quietly squeezed through the barn door. I moved the ladder to the hayloft and put the bar down on the barn door, closing it tightly with the pin. My carer, Mrs, James who lived next door, saw me near the front door and scolded me for being out of bed. I told her what had happened. Shortly afterwards, a large number of villagers gathered around the barn door and a cheer went up when Maggie and Ernie appeared rather sheepishly, making all manner of excuses.
I had begun to earn quite a reputation around the village. The following day, I got a smack from Auntie when she returned from her frolic with Mr Turner, I told her they were only doing what the Billy goat does to the Nanny Goat. However, Aunty's holier than thou attitude was wrecked in the village when local lad 'Ginger Spicer' - Ernies friend, revealed he had seen Aunty and farmer Turner at the same time he was in the Randolph hotel in Oxford when he was Courting the local butcher's daughter.
After having acknowledged Aunty's remark about the loft incident, and Aunty is in a merry mood, and stating " they must be taking turns to wear a bag over their heads" It was then that Maggie came over and kissed me - while I closed my eyes during this frightful experience she told me she was pleased to see me after so many years. Maggie, I thought; had a lot to thank me for and I believe she realised it
The accent of one's early years lives on in our mind.and in our heart as it does in our speech.
Vest Daily Gaggle.
I
Comments
36B9 DUMPED the revolting remains of dinner in the trash. The SMELL from the disposal unit was stomach churning.
2A1 had chosen to use the elimination dose the day before. 36B9 had ATTENDED the short remembrance service in the auditorium just off the observation deck in Green Block. All were WELCOME to attend and indeed were firmly encouraged to do so.
It was the INCIDENT when the service ENDED that concerned 36B9. The robotic workers had been MOVING the death container out of the ‘aud’ when they were diverted to the hallway leading to the food preparation area. A quick glance around assured 36B9 there were no observation drones about and it was safe to follow. One didn’t often find such a WINDOW of opportunity and 36B9 was, as many were, curious about the inner workings of the society. Residents of Green Block were UNAWARE of disposal practices, who was RESPONSIBLE for the procedure, etc.
As the ‘bots’ ARRIVED at the food prep pod the doors swung open and the death container holding 2A1 was pushed in. There was a bustle of activity around the container and the doors swished shut. From outside 36B9 heard what SOUNDED like grinding and then, the whir of an observation drone coming down the hall.
Delores's tale is a little scary, no wonder 'residents' are encouraged to use the elimination dose....
Delores' story is very scary. And in some moods all too possible.
Mine is below.
Peter's family were completely unaware he had a backbone. For years they happily sounded off about the unfairness of life and dumped their problems, their children, their pets and their debts in his lap, moving on to more exciting things. Responsible to the last he attended to their needs and put his own wishes on hold.
No more. An era had ended. The latest incident was just too much. Peter had arrived home to find a pungent and putrid smell wafting through the window. While he nursed a sick cousin other family members had moved in. Two adults, three children and four dogs. And it didn't appear that any of them were housetrained.
Peter was moving. And in his next home the welcome mat would be replaced with barbed wire and a 'Trespassers Will be Shot' sign.
Delores, this world you’ve created gets scarier and scarier.
EC, i am glad Peter found his spine and hope it stays firmly in place.
Once my post goes live, it will be here.
Thank you for your kind words.
"I looked out the WINDOW when I heard what SOUNDED like a car arriving through the gates at the far end of the property.
To my dismay, and anger, there he was, turning up again, like a bad SMELL.
Was he so ignorant he was UNAWARE he’d long out-stayed his WELCOME?
As far as I was concerned our friendship had ENDED six months ago.
Shortly after the INCIDENT had occurred I ATTENDED to what needed to be done to rectify the dire situation in which he’d placed me and my family.
Cutting straight to the chase, looking him straight in the eye, I pointed out to him it was he, and he alone, who was RESPONSIBLE for the mess he had DUMPED us in. Not taking a backward step, I stood my ground and told him never to return.
He ARRIVED at the entrance to the house just as I was MOVING any possible weapons of destruction out of my reach. I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself!
Also, I am pleased that you enjoyed my Story, which is a part of my Memoirs, jiggled about a bit.
elephant's child - loved that Peter found his backbone. I hope when he moves he does not leave a forwarding address!
lee ~ it sounds as if your "she" (?) should become friends with Peter!
My contribution is here: the storm