Is this poetry section suitable for part 3?

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The Old Co

Part 3


I am not sure when grandfather died, but he must have been young as grandmother was living in one of the old cottages in Cleavedon Road at Balsall Heath which was part of the slums of Birmingham. Most of the homes in the area were built during the reign of Victoria, or was it Queen Boadicea. Now she was a striking looking woman. She was very tall, the glance of her eye most fierce, her voice harsh. A great mass of the reddest hair fell down to her hips. Her appearance was terrifying. Definitely a lady to be noticed! A little bit like my wife now I come to think of it.

Anyway, grandmaâs cottage was the first in a line of four, each backing on to the River Rea. In part two I mentioned that my great grandfather Joseph owned a farm, actually it was a Mill Farm. The river Rea drove the giant water wheel that turned the thingies inside the mill, which in turn ground whatever thingy had to be brought down to the size a grain of dust. Up until the 1930âs the mill had been turning for some 400 years.

Ok, so I am not getting to any funny bits, but a little bit of history never hurt anyone.
Her front room, which was also the back room as she only had one, was about the size my kitchen is now. Her kitchen was the size of my toilet. It had a concrete sink with a cold water tap, a gas stove and one shelf. All of her lighting was gas and gas mantles. I never saw electric lighting until 1935.

I might as well finish off this bit of history by mentioning out toilet system. Our homes never had private toilets; no we had to go up the yard to the toilet house. This had four rooms. Two had one toilet seat and the other two had two toilet seats next to each other. If you were lucky you managed to get one with a bit of privacy, if not anyone could be sitting next to you. So if you can imagine a little kid sitting in deep contemplation, minding his own business (So to speak) when in walks Mrs So and So and squats down next to you.

âHello Bobbyâ
âHello missus Taylorâ
âWotcha bin doin terday?â
âNothinâ missus Taylorâ
âDid yer know our Johnnyâs got chicken pox?â
âYes, ee showed 'is spots the other dayâ.

So it went on until one was ready to leave while the other turned to face the wall.

Any way lets get back to grandma. I was about five and my two twin brothers Tommy and John were three years old. We decided to walk around to grandmaâs cottage, which was not far away. I can only remember being in her tiny room. The coal fire was blazing away in the fireplace. A chain hung from somewhere up the chimney with a large hook on the end. A large black kettle belched out steam and gave off a gurgling sound. Something like grandfather made when he had been out drinking.

All of a sudden Tommy let out a yell, âGran I wanna weeâ.
âWell go down to the toilet,â shouted grandma.
âI gotta go now,â insisted Tommy.
âDonât you do it on my best rag rugâ shouted grandma.

Now if you remember, Grandma was in her own time warp, for she still wore her back dress, the one grandfather had to drag off her before he could get his entitlements.
Tommy was bursting so badly that he whipped out his dingle dangle and let it all go. Now remember Tommy was only three years of age, but for some unknown reason known only to a higher power, he had been blessed with a somewhat larger than normal dingle dangle for a kid his age. Along with this was the ability to send a stream of wee some four feet away. He would have been the envy of any hand pump fire fighting equipment used in those days.

Grandma, having received the first stream, was up and out of her chair and stood facing the wall, her hands covering her face and shouting, âPut it away you dirty little boy, put it awayâ.

It was to late for that; Tommy was turning in circles damping down everything he could reach. The chairs, the velvet table cloth. He even tried to put out the fire but only succeeded in causing clouds of steam and ash. John was facing a far corner of the room laughing his silly head off and kicking hell out of the skirting board until finally sliding onto the floor. As for myself I was shouting at Tommy to stop it while ducking behind and am chair whenever I looked like getting a soaking.

Finally Tommieâs supply ran out. He tried to do up his short trousers buttons but was so dizzy from constantly turning he fell over. Grandma turned away from the wall but still covered her face.

âHas he put it away?â she asked.

âIâve put it away gran,â said Tommy. Now can I have a piece of bread with some marg and Daddies Sauce on please?â

**********************


There is a little more about these two brothers of mine if you wish?
Thank your Beach Oven. I will give it a try.

Answer
Thank you for the third installment. I know I will always get pleasure from your writing Robert, whether it be poetry or not! One wonders how Grandmother ever changed the nappy of a male child!

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