Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Auntie Ruth!
*dedicato. Mary-Anastasia Witherspoon.
NOW WHEN I WAS A LAD, full of Piss and Vinegar, Mom and Pops, running the family Business, we had a MAID. We were NOT rich... but a dusting, bed-sheet changing, busy around the kitchen, Vacuum-stuff, AUNTIE RUTH, cleaned the house, patted my young head on her VIAGGIO.
One time she invited my MUM and me to HER house. Same thing, to MY child-eyes except she HID the BISCUIT TIN above the upper-curtain drawer over her FRONT WINDOW, FOR, she said, her adult kids were ALWAYS munching on them or purloining the entire TIN!... Oh! She got a chair. In retrospect, a Hubba-Hubba! Climbed UP there in her Mini-skirt, 1966!!! She SURE was a pretty lady, a lady-cool. But she salvaged the Biscuit Tin, to share with the hospitality TEA which I remember to this day like a Memory Time-Capsule in all my brat-innocence. My wisdom Mama didn-t crack a smile. I just munched in my imagination on the damned, sacred biscuits!...The Tin was bereft of Biscuits,
WE lived in a village-central. Brinsworth. West Riding. Yorkshire. Auntie RUTH lived up the hill now where they built the M-1 Motorway. Athelstan the KING or King Blood-Axe employed this terrain as a battleground, OUR...me and my school kid louts, our playground. We would trade Arrowheads, like Playcards or CONKERS! ME and ALL the kids around had to be BUSED, rain or snow, to a Snotty School in Aston, 15 miles away. From Brinsworth, Catcliffe, Treeton. It was the way it was. We used to PRAY for Snow. Get time-out from School. Auntie Ruth always said....Heavens-to-Betsy! I can-t find those Biscuits!!! 63 years later...I think I know what she meant and miss her so poignantly.
c2019.davedelacroix,our man someplace, reminiscing. Yo!
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