Wednesday 17 June 2015

Krugerrands In The Attic

"They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.


But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.


Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.”



By Philip Larkin 1922-1985


Isn't that a lovely sentiment? I'd like to see it depicted in a greetings card, it's a poem I used to recite to my parents when Crawford * our maid, had her half day off every other month to visit relatives, my sister and I would have to do the chores ourselves, albeit very badly. I would often get a slap across the head for using foul language, but not until after I'd finished it. I had such a nice elegant prose, you should hear my rendition of Eskimo Nell it'll bring a tear to a glass eye.


So, Mitzi where have you been all this time? I hear you ask. Bedlam, that's where! First, I would like to apologise over my long absence, it must have been so distressing for you all, especially with those internet rumours going round about the Queen's demise last week, I don't see what all the fuss was about myself, the woman is pushing 90. I'm drifting off course a bit here, it happens when you haven't had a proper holiday in 7 months, yes 7 months! I've been helping my mother move out of the family home and in to a luxury apartment in a retirement village for the over 55s with beautiful manicured communal gardens and afternoon bingo. I won't say which retirement village as she'll be inundated with autograph hunters and such likes.

Emptying the house wasn't an easy task, I'm still having nightmares about it and will for sometime. When I left home 20 years ago, I expected my parents to have turned my bedroom into a shrine by leaving everything just how I had left it all those years ago, but instead they had filled it floor to ceiling with... well, lets call it junk. It was the same in my sister's old room too and in the box room. No wonder my mother was reluctant to move. Just when we thought we had everything cleared, my mother took me to one side, out of my niece and Carmen's earshot and told me she wanted something bringing down from the attic, it was a biscuit tin hidden behind the water tank and it weighed a ton, I handed her the tin and without any prompting from me, she showed me the contents "FUCKING HELL!" they was no slap across the head this time just my mother's beaming face. I'm thinking about getting a blue plaque made for the old house saying "Bill Sikes and Nancy lived here". I would love to tell you more but I'm afraid I cannot.

She's only been at her new place five minutes and has already had firm words with the woman next door.







* Crawford was actually my maternal grandma who came to live with us after Grandad died. I've always been pretentious, even then!

14 comments:

  1. Oh marvelous you're back! Treasure in the attic? I love treasure. Retirement village? I love a retirement village. When I moved out, I left behind much incriminating evidence of my sordid endeavors. My mother cleaned it all out and the attic too. She had a sale that lasted 3 days. She never mentioned a thing. I miss those things...

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    1. I hope she gave your 'collectables' a good rinse under the tap before selling them on to the customers, your mother has a good eye and a keen business instinct. I bet she made a fortune! They're only things, cash is king

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  2. Intriguing mystery, like the briefcase.

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    1. Another intriguing mystery was the case of the lonesome Chilean pine. At the bottom of her garden she has one of those beautiful trees, beneath the tree grows Lily of the Valley plants and a stone covered in moss, my mother said it's to mark the grave of the dog and mustn't be moved. One day I went to her bin shed and there was a plastic sack in there covered in mud like it had been in the ground for years, I looked inside, it was empty except for a few fresh Lily of the Valley leaves and roots, I went over to the tree and there was a 2ft by 2ft bald patch amongst the plants and the stone had been moved. What do you make of that?

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  3. Crawford's old ration books perhaps? Welcome home Mitzi, For a moment I thought you'd booked yourself in to the clinic and Miss Carpenters dulcet tones were a hint of you're whereabouts... Fortunately... I was wrong...

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    1. Thank you Princess. It's my maid Carmen who has anorexia but in reverse, she stands and looks at herself in the mirror at her 16 and a half stone frame and thinks she's looking gaunt, then she drags herself to the fridge and eat absolutely loads and forgets to make herself sick afterwards.

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  4. I thought you were out cruising. I have missed you.
    I have done the parental junk thing.... I am still wading through it and I'm considering opening a shop.
    Sx

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    1. Thank you Scarlet for your kind words. I could have filled a ware house with my parents vendibles.

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  5. Excellent! I've missed you, petal. Sorting out the parental home is a proper do is it not? All the shit I'd thought I'd forgotten was waiting for me lurking in the attic when mother and I cleared out my granddad's gaff, I've already told her to get rid of all her shit so I don't have to it! She's taken me at my word and started giving it all to me. Anyway, I hope your mum is keeping them all in order.
    I do love that Larkin. Hallmark have missed a trick there I think.
    xx

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    1. Thank you Ivy. You are not kidding, manual labour is not for me. She, the cat's mother has settled in well I overheard her talking to a fellow resident about how the neighbours she had left behind are missing her and that all the children in the area used to call her 'Auntie' What? If I remember rightly all the kids in the street used to call her 'Agonybags' she would scowl at them through the window, the children used to dare each other to knock at the door to ask for their ball back, Auntie indeed.

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  6. She's taken me at my word and started giving it all to me.
    Maybe we should all get together and open a shop?! Mitzi could do the marketing.
    Sx

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    1. That's a good idea, we could do it up so it looks like a charity shop. Stick a few pictures of knackered old donkeys around the place, put a sign in the shop window asking for volunteers (and donations), that's the labour and future stock sorted out and all for free! Sit back and reap in the rewards. I wonder if we'll be exempt from paying taxes.

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  7. I had to stop visiting, Miss Carpenter has always creeped me out, even before she died. I'm delighted you've returned. Taxes are for little people.

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  8. I'm sorry for the distress Miss Carpenter has caused you over the years, I know what you mean. This woman gives me the willies, though I can't remember her name.

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