Memories - Poems, Cartoons and Pics From Long Ago ...

Whilst (is that still a word?) cleaning my little corner of the world this morning, I came across a handmade booklet of poems I had written in the early years of my married life, and as I was rereading it I realized I had a time capsule of the mid to late 70's. And here I was wondering what to blog about today.

I guess Our Story started when I stayed with Auntie Evelyn and Uncle Eliol, before they were Auntie and Uncle to me. They were Auntie and Uncle to Howard though, when he became the last in the long line of fellers lining up at the door. (Only kidding. He was actually the only one in the line. Just sayin'.)

 

 He would sit patiently at the kitchen table while I turned this sweet innocent little maiden ...

  ... into this.

Only kidding. The top picture was an even younger version of me, and that was a pillow in my sweater - never too old to play dress-up!

It didn't take him long to propose. Well, he didn't actually propose, as such, just informed me that he was getting married when I told him I was going to visit my sister and brothers and their families during the summer. I figured he'd be alone at the altar if I did go away, so felt compelled to hang around and see what would happen.

You probably know what happened.

I bet 

(For My Children:  A picture of Bart Simpson and his unknown twin brother.)

you met
And that was that
He threw his heart
Down on the mat
You picked it up
And that was that. 

He took you for a little ride
And soon you will become his bride

Thank God for your lucky stars
Gravel Pits and private cars.


(Call it artistic licence - the above poem and cartoon is not actually for me'n'him. Not sure who got this little gem though.)

Anyhow. Even way back then the bride-to-be got a bridal shower. Unlike the modern ones, that consist of getting up close and personal with male stippers and drinking until your eyes start to bleed, if you can believe other people's Face Book pages, the showers of the 70's were exclusively designed to give the poor unsuspectful soul the equipment she'd need to be a good wife.

Dishcloths to dry your dishes with
And pots to cook his meat
A jug to hold the milk you'll pour
Upon his shredded wheat.

A wooden spoon to mix his cakes
A bowl in which to make them
A cup to measure flour and such
And pans in which to bake them.

A rolling pin to roll out dough
A cookie tin, a ladle,
Some bread pans, cookie tins and such
And placemats for your table.

A basket for your laundry, and 
A broom to sweep your floor
And cloths to wipe your dishes clean,
A gift for every chore.

You won't have time for much else soon
But clean and wash and scrub
Along with his ring upon your hand
You'll get his ring around the tub.

I didn't realize what I was getting myself into. Really.

We were married for about a year when we bought a tiny little house in Trinity. There was only one problem with it -

Last spring we bought a house

Not fancy, now, you mind

A four-roomed cottage that

In outports you can find.

Improvements must be made

But that is lots of fun

And so the gyproc and the paint

Already has begun.

However, doing walls

Does not give me a worry

But lack of bathroom fittings,

Is quite another story.

I didn't mind at all

Through summer, spring and fall

To take my pail in hand

And go to the outdoor can.

But now that winter's here

With ice and snow galore

The carrying of the pail

Becomes a different chore.

Can you imagine what

Would happen if I slipped

And fell flat on my back

With bucket over-tipped?

Me, lying on the snow,

Annointed, head to toe.

 

Well, this seems to be as good a place as any to sign off for the day. The past couple of hours brought many memories as I went photo hunting through my piles and piles of old pictures. 

More to come!