Granfar he ha’ hed rumatism a rummin, an yit he allus carry a little tearter in his pokit, wus as hard as a stun now. He took nearly everything wot everybody told him, an then he got warse, so we hed the doctor. He say to Granfar: ‘Have yow dun anything four it?’ Granfar say: ‘I ha’ rubbed my leg wi’ paraffin.’ Doctor say: ‘Thas a good idea, then you want to put a match tew it.’ Howsomever, he sed he’d sen’ Granfar a bottle o’ medisen. Granfar say: ‘Wen do I tearke it?’ Doctor (who like a joke) he say: ‘Yow tearke a dose o’ that a quarter an hour afore yow feel the pains a cummin on.’
Well, he’s better now, but he took so much stuff, he dorn’t know wot did cure him. Anyhow, he wus well enuff to go to our Pusstorfice a’ tha’ Friday for his pension.
O’ corse, our Pusstorfice earn’t like yar Pusstorfice in Noridge. Yars fear to me to be a grate big bilden, wot dorn’t sell nothin only stamps an things, a proper wearst o’ covered spearce. Our Pusstorfice sell everything an’ anything, an’ on a Friday arternoon yow can hardly sturrer, wot wi’ oul earge pensioners, boxes o’ fruit an’ wegatables and hundreds o’ odds an’ inds.
Old Mrs W, she wus there, a fuleing about, an somehow she gan Granfar a little shuv, an’ he bein bad on his pins, went over backards, an that fear he got his hinder part stick inter a box o’ tomarters. Well bor, tew or tree on ’em got him up an arter sum time they got him outer that box. In the meantime, oul Mrs W, she cleared orf wi’out a waitin’ for har pension.
Granfar, he mobbed a rummin, an’ so did my Aunt Agatha when she cleaned his trousers down (they were his second best). Then she larfed. She say: ‘Well, Granfar, that might a bin warse, if they’d a bin eggs instead o’ tomarters,’ she say. ‘I knew yow were gorne to have a row when yow put yar new shews on the tearble a Tharsday mornin’.’ But, as I say, my Aunt Agatha is ever so goodnatured. She wunt hart a soul, why, she allus drown kittens in warmwater, so they shorn’t suffer.
Well, fare yer well tergather.
THE BOY JOHN.
P.S. Aunt Agatha, she say: ‘That earn’t wot yow look at, tha’s wat yow see when yow do look.’
My Grandfather has suffered with very painful rheumatism, despite always carrying a potato in his pocket which has become as hard as a stone. He has taken lots of remedies recommended by others to no avail so recently he has been to see his Doctor. The Doctor asked him if he had tried anything to ease the pain? to which my Grandfather replied that he had rubbed paraffin into his leg. The Doctor jokingly suggested that my Grandfather might like to set fire to the paraffin with a match for all the good it would do.
However, he gave Grandfather a prescription for some medicine. Grandfather asked ‘how often should I take it?’ to which the Doctor (who liked to joke) said ‘Take one dose around 15 minutes before you feel any pain’.
Grandfather is much better now, but he had taken so many different remedies recommended to him, he didn’t really know which had helped. Thankfully, he was well enough to go to the local Post Office on Friday to collect his pension. Our local Post Office is very different from the Post Office in Norwich which seems to me to be a very large building that appears to sell stamps and not much else, a waste of space in my opinion. Our local Post Office sells everything and anything, and on a Friday afternoon it is so busy with older people collecting their pensions you can hardly move between the aisles of fruit, vegetables and various ‘odds and ends’ therein.
Mrs W was there fooling around and somehow she managed to bump into Grandfather who, being a little unsteady on his feet, fell over backwards into a box of tomatoes. After several attempts, two or three people in the shop managed to lift him back up out of the box, but in the meatime Mrs W had left the building without even collecting her pension.
Grandfather was very annoyed, as was Aunt Agatha when she cleaned his trousers (they were his second best). Then she laughed and said ‘Well, Grandfather, that could have been a lot worse, what if they had been eggs and not tomatoes!’
”On Thursday morning I knew that this week you were going to get into a mess, when you put your new shoes on the table.’
Aunt Agatha is very good natured – she would not hurt a soul. She even drowns kittens in warm water, so that they don’t suffer unnecessarily.
Farewell my friends,
THE BOY JOHN.
P.S. My Aunt Agatha says: ‘It’s not what you look at that causes problems, it’s what you see when you look.’