Wednesday 1 June 2022

EVERYTHING YOU BELIEVE MAY BE WRONG

 


STATEMENT TO YOU, DEAR READERS of our blog and social media pages

YOUR WORLDVIEW MAY WELL HAVE BEEN INFLUENCED BY AN ELITE HEGEMONY and thus BE WRONG.

Our blog posts and social media posts are flavoured by Conservative Christian values. You may have noticed that we rail against the Western Imperialist System quite a bit, as exemplified by our criticism of support for Ukraine, the persecution of Christians and innocent citizens in Syria and Yemen, the starvation of children from Western imposed sanctions, the forever war actions and narratives, the government controls imposed on us plebs throughout the ‘pandemic’ along with the forced medical treatments and so on.

And yes, we have railed against leaders like Biden et al, ScoMo, BoJo, Macron, Trudeau, Adern and Albo……… the whole bluddy lot of them whether they are left or right.

Let’s get one thing straight.

In Australia, for example, true Conservative values have been destroyed gradually since Menzies. Successive leaders have destroyed our manufacturing of everything from Steel to shoes, from cars to clothing. These globalists signed our allegiances away to the U.N. and its affiliates from the old Lima Declaration right up until the present move to sign up to the WEF Pandemic Treaty. They have introduced school curricula to indoctrinate our future generation, including future leaders, into the anti-family globohomo narrative and in doing so THEY HAVE ABUSED OUR KIDS. The universities have been infiltrated by Hegelian and Marxist ideas in the Communist march through the institutions to indoctrinate young leaders into the gender fluidity paradigm, support the Alphabet Bloc to destroy marriage and family, to give rise to third wave feminism and to denigrate men as patriarchal extremists. And this is not to mention the promotion of importing foreign anti-Christian, anti-western, counter cultural migration that infects our media, for one thing, with anti-patriot ideals and counter culture methods to denigrate our heritage and traditional way of life.

I won’t even talk about America – the driving force in degeneration of standards that leads the ‘free world’ in corruption and pretence.

We do NOT live in a liberal democracy any more. It is not even Libertarianism on steroids. We now live in a Western world dominated by the globalist elites who destroy nationalism, patriotism, individualism and our sovereignty. WE WILL NOT STAY SILENT. We stand firmly with the humans of the world, whether they be in Alaska or Zanzibar, A to Z, Christian or not, especially with the defenceless in countries wracked by the Globalists’ wars and their sanctions that are designed to force regime change for sovereign countries to fall into line in the global financial and trade systems. THE WEST HAS BEEN INFILTRATED BY CULTURAL MARXISM OF THE TROTSKY VARIEY which defectors from the Soviet Union warned would happen to the West. It has happened and very few leaders have resisted except for the likes of Hungary, Poland somewhat and other Visgrad states, Brazil and some African states.

WHAT IS YOUR WORLDVIEW? Do we disrupt it by criticising what may appear to you as criticism of our valued Western idealism? If your concerns are with who gets married next on MAFS, or how much money the new government can put in your pocket, then we will leave you to it, with the hope that you give some consideration to our posts as well as the many other alternative sources that Big Tech, Big Pharma, Big Government, and Big Banks continually manage to censor with their labels of fake news and conspiracy theorists. We will continue to support sovereignty and stand against a Western hegemony that has been hijacked by an elite few who want us under the thumb of their new world order.

And we leave you with similar thoughts, better written sentiments, from another Australian columnist, Caitlin Johnson ……..

” … If you’ve publicly challenged the official narratives of the western political/media class about any major issue, you’ve probably noticed that people can get pretty upset about it.

Like, actually upset. Not mildly annoyed like you might get at someone who is saying something that is obviously false and stupid, but burning hot emotional like you’d get if you heard someone insulting your loved one. Or like someone insulting you personally.

That’s the most surprising thing, when you first start speaking about this stuff. Not that people don’t believe you or don’t agree with you; that’s to be expected when every screen in their lives is telling them one thing and you’re telling them something else. But that people actually get deeply emotionally invested in it.

That’s your first clue that there’s something else going on beneath the surface apart from what you’re being presented with. You’re not just arguing about Ukraine or China or Syria or whatever, you’re touching on a psychological third rail that’s being ferociously protected.

Many of the people you’ll run into online or in person who defend imperial narratives from your criticisms aren’t doing so because they believe the US-centralized empire is awesome and great, they’re doing so because it’s much more comfortable than confronting the possibility that their entire worldview is made of lies.

You’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you https://t.co/XwFjK9EOyl pic.twitter.com/QRSalVfuKK

— The Oatmeal (@Oatmeal) May 2, 2017

There’s a great comic by The Oatmeal which explains the psychological defense mechanisms humans have in place to protect their worldview from information that could destabilize it. Because of our tendency to select for cognitive ease over cognitive challenge in order to conserve mental energy, we tend to be heavily biased against consciously helping new worldview-disrupting information get past those psychological defense mechanisms.

And it doesn’t get more worldview-disrupting than questioning mainstream consensus reality. Because on the other side of that investigation is the realization that pretty much everything you’ve been trained to believe about your society, your nation, your government and your world, is a lie.

This is often what people are really pushing back against when they get upset at someone who is being critical of official empire narratives. It’s not actually super important to them that everyone believe the correct things about their government or someone else’s government, it’s super important to them that the world as they know it not come to a crashing halt.

Because that’s what it is, as far as their experience and perception is concerned. A lucid seeing that their entire worldview is based on lies would feel like the end of their world, because in their experience it would be the end of the world they know.

Having your entire understanding of the world and how it works torn asunder is a kind of a death, because it’s the end of your secure knowing of what’s real. In a sense it’s the end of you, too. It’s the end of the person you were. It’s all illusory of course, but that’s the way it feels…….” tbc.

Caitlin’s full post is here > https://caitlinjohnstone.com/2022/06/02/people-who-defend-empire-narratives-are-really-just-defending-their-worldview-from-destruction/

AND A BOOK RECOMMENDED ON THE SAME THEME IS “EVERYTHING YOU BELIEVE IS WRONG”. https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Believe-Wrong-William-Briggs/dp/1087987156

William M. Briggs was born in Detroit at the height of its majesty. When he left, it went into the crapper. Coincidence? He later entered the Air Force and became Staff Sergeant Briggs. When he took off his stripes, the Soviet Union crumbled. Coincidence? He went to university and earned many letters after his name which wow the unthinking. After he graduated, they installed a Dean for Diversity, Inclusion, and Equity. Coincidence?He lived for many years on the isle of Manhattan during it brightest years. When he fled, the city’s Mayor instituted Vaccine Passports. Coincidence? Finally, he wrote this penetrating book. After you close it covers, you, dear reader, will find that you are based.Coincidence?

Tuesday 24 May 2022

KALGOORLIE ROUND

 “Kids? Who’d have ’em?”

Such was Nick Ward’s reply when I asked if he was a family man.

We’d connected via the frivalous commonality of both having backed a roughie in the last race of the famous Kalgoorlie “rounds,” an annual event which attracts city slickers like me, Alan George, out of the rat race and propels them into the wild western gold mining town for some distraction from the humdrum. Unlike yours truly, Nick was a local and after some mutual gloating over our common good fortune, I found myself seated opposite him over a counter meal at the “Miners” hotel where he swore that his lady friend, Jess something-or-other,could cook up a storm.

“Mind you,” he continued, “I would have had kids but I’d have only been a chain around the neck of a good woman in those days after returning from ‘Nam. Funny thing is Al, I now have fifteen of the buggers around me most of the time.” He elaborated,”I teach plumbing at the local tech school and most days do voluntary supervision at a hostel for indigenous lads.” I had noticed the place as I’d driven into town.

Indeed, it turned out that Jess and the mains she brought to our table were both wholesome and appealing to the eye. Nick, I suspect, noted my admiration and as Jess departed said, rather sotto voce, “But, my friend, while it’s too late to breed my own tribe, I have one good lady right there. And to think I nearly lost her recently.” There was a story coming. I could feel it.

“Doesn’t sound good,” I said lamely. “Anything to do with the bruising and stitches on your temple?”

I’ll be honest: he was an attractive bloke, rugged looks a la Johnny Cash, maybe 25 years my senior, and I had only been willing to accept his dinner invitation since he had mentioned that he had ties to a female. That’s me, burdened with some unpleasant previous experiences. And I was genuinely interested to hear his answer.

He responded, but I shall omit the frequent expletives and blasphemies as my dear mother may get hold of this account sometime. Nick narrated …

“Friday nights Jess and I usually take a troop of the lads from the hostel out bush for a kangaroo shoot. It’s part of lessons that attracts a remuneration from government: we teach ’em butchering the carcasss for one, second is tanning the hide, and third is the cooking. So, last Friday, with five indigenous boys plus one of their white mates from school, loaded on the back of my king cab along with Bob Murray, a supervisor from the hostel who handles the firearms part, I’m driving with Jess beside me. Dark night, really black. We pass the pit [the open cut gold mine noted for the ability to be seen from space], heading out of town and steady as she goes for about forty K’s.

“I slow because young Harold in the back has the spottie and we see a few ‘roos in the distance. Too far for a shot. I begin a crawl, hoping a ‘roo jumps out of the bushes close by and Harold catches him in the spotlight.” Nick is almost whispering now, gesticulating a winding slow movement with his hand to emulate his vehicle taking a slight bend around bushes and trees, since there is no actual road to mention. Suddenly his eyes widen. He slaps the table so hard it disturbs the cutlery. “Then bang! Just like that. A tire blows. I swear I heard a rifle shot at the same time as though someone had shot the bloody thing out. Then light. Lights in my face. I’m blinded. A shot pings off the bonnet. Another. And four figures, silhouettes in front of their blinding headlights and spotlight. ‘Get out of the car’ one of them shouts. He repeats it. ‘Get out or I shoot you through the window.’ I can’t make out their faces but I know who they are. Yeah, I know who they are. My eyes adjust a bit. I make out the kangaroo skin waistcoat he always wears and the long streaky hair of Les Morgan and no doubt his notorious mates who enjoy making trouble when they come into town to sell the nuggets they find on their claim. Jess and I get out of the cab. ‘Kneel you arseholes. Kneel.’ We do. Smack. Les swipes me with the butt of his rifle. They laugh. So, there you go Alan, that’s how I got the cut and the bruises.”

“That’s it?” I quizzed. I uttered a word my mother wouldn’t approve of, followed by: “C’mon mate. Why the….. I mean how do you know these blokes? … you’re out in the sticks, so how’d they know where you’d be? ….. why did they jump you? ……what happened after that? …..surely …?” I realised the questions were superfluous because no decent raconteur would end his tale at that point. He was teasing. We both knew he would elaborate, but he wanted time to relish in my piqued interest. He eventually continued.

” I have to go back to the Wednesday, two nights before this. Jess and I, as well as Bob Murray, took two car loads of the lads to Bailey’s Circus which had just hit town for their annual stint. Most unfortunately, we were seated right in front of Les and his mob of a dozen local troublemakers. They were somewhat inebriated and became raucous at times. In their exuberance Jess copped the occasional kick in the back. The seating was just benches so there were no seat backs. Jess had had enough and just before I reacted she turned around to give them some choice words and one of her scowls I know she has in her armoury. That was met with jibes and some foul insults. Jess then stormed out of the stands and heads for the two coppers in attendance. They then troop up to Les’s crowd and eject Les and one of his mates who’s known about town as Gravel, probably due to his harsh voice. Although things quietened down, there were threats issued in whispers from the others that we were definitely meant to take note of. So mate, that brings us to our ‘roo shoot and ambush of revenge. They had a good idea of the area that we hunted in since we always head for Clover’s Creek because the ‘roos mob there to drink. People talk, spread the word, the lads tell others at school, etcetera. And so, there we are kneeling in the dirt, wondering what Les and Co. are intending.

“Les himself has Aboriginal heritage so I was confident that he wouldn’t harm the lads. In fact, he told them to piss off and walk back to town and if they were true to their blood they would have no trouble. He was going to have a little fun with the wadjalas. Little did he or anyone else know that my own great grandmother was indigenous but I wasn’t going to appeal to that fact out of pride. So we awaited our fate as our charges scattered through the scrub towards home. Or at least that’s what I presumed they were doing.

” For some time after that, Les and his mates yelled threats, drank some more, pushed and prodded Jess and I, and drank some more. Then knives came out. I sensed the situation becoming serious and feared what a drunken mob hysteria might result in. I was planning my own moves should the situation become critical. But what hope did I have? I was ready at a point to silently appeal to God to forgive me and accept me if He did exist, and to help me when my blood boiled over, as I knew it would. I wasn’t going to die on my knees.

“Then, just when I thought that we were done for, and my body was tensing to make a move, the weirdness happened. Everything became surreal. Surreal for all of us. The lights went out. The car headlights and the spotties. Darkness. Silence. We all froze. Then out of the silence a roaring but dull humming. At the same time a shrill melodious tune could be heard, reminiscent of the tune in E.T. the movie. Eerieness prevailed as we were all transfixed. Plonk, plonk, crack, bang. We could feel ourselves being hit with something like hail. Light. Blinding orange light lit up the sky. ‘Effing aliens’. ‘It’s a spacesh….. Let’s get the hell out of here … run, run, there’s something up there!!’ I began to smile and glanced at Jess. She was suppressing a grin.

“So mate, Les and his crew shot through, post haste. I know you’re wondering what happened, so it was like this. On the back of my ute I have a tool box. I keep all sorts of stuff in there for all sorts of situations whether that be for camping, fishing, whatever. The boys removed a few things before Les sent them off. Things like an Aboriginal bullroarer, which is a flat piece of wood on a string. When it’s swung in circles it makes the sound we heard that night. And Harold always packs his harmonica wherever he goes. That was the shrill tune. And one of them removed the flares from my tool box which lit up the sky. The hail we felt was the lads tossing piles of little stones that they had picked up and showered us with. Oh, and one of them snuck into their truck and doused all the lights. Smart lads. Very effective SFX used on inebriated yobbos.”

I was stunned somewhat and open mouthed. “Amazing. That’s amazing Nick. What a …. I don’t know, adventure, lucky escape. Did you go to the coppers?”

The answer was ‘no’. They believed that all’s well that ends well.

We ate in silence for a while. Then Nick looked up, said: “Maybe it’s not quite over.”

I turned to see what had caught his eye.

There was no mistaking the kangaroo-skin waistcoat and stringy unkempt hair. Les and his boys had just walked in.

Monday 30 November 2020

CHONDROSARCOMA

 



RESOURCES & INFORMATION on CHONDROSARCOMA.

[Note: This is a personal health record for my own use. I have been asked to supply details about both diseases especially being rare and occurring simultaneously so this diary will suffice, however please do not share to a third party without permission. Details of dermatomyositis will be compiled and sent as an addendum. This will also serve as feedback on the treatment services and logistics of the hospital which will be found at the conclusion and will be sent under separate cover].


INTRODUCTION

After multiple tests and consultations and biopsies from Aug 6 to Nov 23, I was given a diagnosis and prognosis by Dr. Rod [Wormald?] and team at ENT Outpatients on Nov 30. I have chondrosarcoma on the cartilage below the larynx. He offered two alternative approaches. First an immediate laryngectomy. Second, a wait and see approach to check on growth and metastases followed by possible surgical reduction. I have chosen the latter option. [Details of tests and consultations, with details and dates, can be seen in footnotes].

Research so far has led me to believe this may be hereditary because my mother was diagnosed with a cancer on the hip initially - and this could well have been a chondrosarcoma - which spread to the lungs.

Research too has led me to believe that my condition was always high risk since such cancers are most common when exostoses [unusual bone growth] also exists - and this has been the case in my right ear either at birth or in early childhood which caused regular ear infections throughout life.

Questions not answered by Rod, or not asked, and other matters since realised since the prognosis.....

1. Growth rate: Unable to answer was my question of the difference in size from the CT scan of Oct 18 to the MRI of Nov 20, aprox. 5 weeks.

2. Are there any other pharma or therapeutic treatments that the team researched? [I am quite sure that the Team has not dealt with a patient with my condition before, and that their diagnosis and prognosis derives from research [limited?], since I was not given any details by any oncologist present].

3. What is the 5 years survival rate comparison between alternative suggested treatments, i.e. laryngectomy and surgical reduction?

4. If surgical reduction is being considered and offered in the future, then why not offer it immediately?

5. Is it possible to remove the affected cartilage entirely without a laryngectomy?

6. The speech therapist [Charlotte] wanted a live action X-ray done of my swallowing but nothing was arranged.

7. I am taking Prednisolone for Dermatomyositis [which I had to research and suggest to my G.P.] I have seen articles claiming it reduces cancer. Does the team know anything about this? [I doubt they would as nobody at the hospital seems to know what it is].

Links to medical articles follow.

There may be possible treatments besides the choices given to me by the ENT Team. Links to such treatments which I find will be given following other references.

MY DOCTOR, ROD WORMALD 



Links to various articles follow. Some of these are rather technical. These are only examples since anyone is able to do their own search for articles on the subject. I will add to these if article is different and/or significant.

=========================================================================

Definition
Chondrosarcoma is a malignant bone tumor arising from cartilaginous tissue, most frequently occuring at the ends of the femur and tibia, the proximal end of the humerus and the pelvis; and presenting with a palpable mass and progressive pain. Chondrosarcoma is usually slow growing at low histological grades and can be well managed by intralesional curettage or en-block wide resection.


The exact cause of chondrosarcoma is not known. There may be a genetic or chromosomal component that makes certain individuals more open to this type of malignancy. Chondrosarcomas have been observed as a late consequence of radiation therapy for other cancers


.Recurrence augurs a poor prognosis, as conventional chondrosarcomas are both radiation and chemotherapy resistant. Recent discoveries in the biology, genetics, and epigenetics of conventional chondrosarcomas have significantly advanced our understanding of the pathobiology of these tumors and offer insight into potential therapeutic targets.


[Containing some clinical treatment trials]


[Refer esp. to the Research section of this article]


The Google Search Link under the heading of "Is Chondrosarcoma hereditary?"


The Google Search Link under the heading " Survival Rate of Cho. of the throat?"



========================================================================

POSSIBLE TREATMENTS  [not suggested by the ENT team] ...........


Alendronate




Survivin




[Watch this space for alternative treatments e.g. Dog worming and Hydrogen Peroxide - although I don't intend to be fanatical about this]



========================================================================

FOOTNOTES & Medical Diary

My voice may have begun to change as much as 2 years ago. I did not want to consult the GP before Christmas 2019 and be incapacitated so decided I would do so in the new year. Early 2020 the Covid scare happened with discouragement to seek medical treatments for elective matters so I put it off. By late July my swallowing became problematic so in early August I attended the GP, Dr, Ali Shah who said he would arrange referral to ENT at Fiona Stanley Hospital. I later discovered they set mid-December for the initial appt. At the GP consultation I also believed I had scratched maybe scabies and contracted an infection. He agreed and I had treatment for scabies and anti-bios for Cellulitis - that treatment continued until Oct 16. On or about Aug 17/18 I had X-Rays and blood tests 

On Oct 16 I experienced severe pain which I thought may be an allergic reaction to a change in anti-bios so I called an ambulance. At Emergency Dept a blood test was done and Dr. Fahrina [?] who told me that I did not have Cellulitis but a rare and incurable disease called Dermatomyositis. She gave me a referral for CT scan I was given several tablets which I think were anti-histamines and Ibuprofen. Next day, Sun. Oct 17 on waking up, the pain and itch had decreased by 90% and the rash faded quickly. I decided to leave further treatment unless it flared up again.

I had to attend a follow-up consult at the Acute Medical Ambulatory Clinic for why I called an ambulance [rash & pain], however the doctor started the process to have my throat seen to [and nothing was mentioned about the dermatomyositis]!! 

For the Derma, I have been mixing my own concoctions and trying multiple remedies, pills and ointments for 3 months before the pain left on Oct 17. No pain killers worked [but later after surgical biop, I discovered that Tramadol worked], while Tee tree ointment gave a little relief from pain & itch, as did insect surface spray [permethrin]. I currently use Prendisolone ointment [side effects - numb cold toes, mild headache, earache, nausea, indigestion, depression. But increased appetite]. Had 5 day [50mg daily] Prendisolone tabs, Nov 19 -23, and yet to establish a regular regimen.

For the throat, being quite sore [and it may be infected] following the biopsies, am using Tramadol, Codeine, anti-histamines, Ibuprofen, Strepsils, Taking VitD, Iodine, VitC, Zinc, Thiamine. Weight loss - Reg Wt up to 2015 was 94kg, Wt on Aug 6 was 84kg. Wt on Nov 30 was 77kg.

DATES;

Aug 4     Ali first consult. Diagnosed with neoplagia and disphagia.
Aug 10   Ali, Circulation test, Results - low Vit D, High cholesterol, XRay showed lesion & COPD
Aug 17   Dr Win repeat. Suggested Zinc oxide & bandage - didn't work.
Sep 4      Ali, change anti-bio
Sep - Oct Ali repeats
Oct 16    Ambulance, Dr Fahrina re-diagnosed Drmatomyositis, Referred for CT scan
Oct 18    CT scan, 
Oct 19     Dr Win, results -cyst on kidney, lung lesion, gall stones, tumour scotum? Referred to ENT for                  throat biopsy. Stopped anti-bios.
Oct 20     Radiologist rang to say Win cancelled biopsy - will do at FSH
Oct 24     Sharon from FSH rang with appt at AMAC Mo
Oct 26     AMAC appt triage, will arrange ENT consult asap
Oct 30      received bill from St John's - filled out exemption
Nov 5      Pre-admission clinic, saw Nurse, ECG, Parmacist, Anaesthetist., Ultra sound, Mouth X-ray
Nov 6     PET scan, Rockingham
Nov 9     ENT outpatients, Dr. Kate - tried to pass off as a consult but should have been cancelled
Nov 12   Surgical biopsy, Dr Sarah, waited from 6.15am to 1.30 op. stayed overnight
Nov 14   Catherine rang to cancel Mon 16 appoint.
Nov 15   Sunday, Dr Sarah rang -will organise needle biop
Nov 16   Appoint by SMS for Wed 18 US & needle biop
Nov 16   Sandy rang to attend MDT meeting Mon 23. I received results from Qscan PET
Nov 18   USound and needle biop
Nov 19   Dr Ali finally to establish treatment for rash [now on back & chest] - got prednisolone
Nov 20   9.30 Catherine rang - go now for MRI [10.30 - 2pm]
Nov 23   9.30 MDT team meeting - no result determined but come back today for another surg biop                       overnight & saw Sarah dietitian & Charlotte speech therapy.
Nov 24    At home got SMS to attend MDT meet Wed Dec 2
Nov 27    Catherine rang, cancel Dec 2, attend Mon 30 for MDT prognosis
Nov 30    Prognosis given. See above.
 
 
=======================================================================
PET scan results, provided by Q Scan, Rockingham W.A. LINK ...............
 
[Log In details: user name: jnamnik.  password: Jables46]
 
===================================================

NUTRITIONAL & ALTERNATIVE
 
 

[Same Org. Basis mixture is...... 
Based on the poor prognosis of chondrosarcoma, we investigated effects of a phytonutrient mixture (PB) containing quercetin, CruciferexTM, curcumin, resveratrol and green tea extract on several parameters associated with the development of this type of cancer.]
 
 
Check other various articles here......
 
Aspirin ...

and ......
 
4 drugs, incl wormer .....

 

https://www.mychemist.com.au/buy/2131/Combantrin-1-with-Mebendazole-Chocolate-Squares-4

 

 

------

Thursday 26 November 2020

WHATEVER !!

 


MY MOTHER, ETHEL, Aprox 54yrs.

 . .MY FATHER, NICK [Adolph], Age aprox 36yrs.

---

 


---------

WHAT'S THIS ALL ABOUT THEN?

 What follows is, in summary, a booklet of my mother's sayings. Right now I have no idea of the form it might take. There will be some narrative for context, but it is not a story as such and neither will it be a list alone.

 

BACKGROUND

 Sayings and anecdotes are drawn from my life in a family of father, Nick, mother Ethel, older sister Joan, and younger sister Nancy. My earliest memories of family life begin around 1948 [when I was 2yrs old], living in mum's parents home at 16 Willowbank Rd. Nth. Fitzroy. From 1951 events are situated in our own home at 47 Union St. Northcote. Up until around 1959 my cousins were living with us sporadically due to a marriage break up. Their family consisted of mum's sister, Lena, and children Don, Rob, Frank and Ellie. Thus, while the subject of this work is the sayings [and some doings] of Ethel, it will often involve Lena since customs and sayings are common to both and the commonality contains much Irish and early Australian influence. Custom and commonality aside, these two sisters had their own uniqueness of expression and attitude which rubbed off on their progeny that made for some amusing times.

 

WHY 'WHATEVER'?

Good question. Glad you reminded me. I might change it but I had to type a letter followed by a word to get started because I am well able to procrastinate - even about procrastinating. Still, the title of 'Whatever' may not be all that inappropriate, now that I think about it.

 

WELL, GET ON WITH THE BLUDDY STORY THEN

 


Keep your shirt on ....... Rome wasn't built in a day ......... Don't get your knickers in a knot !!

One or all of the above would have been Et's reply to the demand to get on with it. That looks okay in italics if I type her sayings in that form, rather than other parentheses. Agree? Good . On the subject of patience, mum had a stock verse if she wanted to elaborate on one of those quips above. It was .....


Patience is a virtue. Possess it if you can. It's seldom in a woman and never in a man !!

Back to the title. I was just discussing the millennials' use of that annoying response with Ellie recently by phone [as she is in Melbourne and I am in Perth]. The reason that 'Whatever' may not be entirely out of place is because there were equivalent expressions back in the day, both Australian and Irish. It denotes an attitude - a sort of "if you say so" and "have it your way, but I don't care". I'm trying to think of what Ethel or Lena might have said instead of "whatever". Try ......... Stick it up your bum with chewing gum, chum !!

Now is an appropriate time to warn readers. The crudity is only going to get worse. That's just the way it is and was. We kids didn't think much of it. It was funny for us and we ourselves were discouraged from swearing and crudeness. Crikey, I still recall using the F word once when I was about 4yrs old not having the foggiest about its meaning. I was given a mild lecture on why that word should never be uttered. [Important life advice always came in the form of a reasoned talking-to with mum and dad, and I can't remember any time when either of them "did their block" in anger over our misdemeanors]. The result of that was that I never again used the word until I was in my twenties. Very few of my peers swore very much either. On that score, I think the worst of our secret naughty boyhood mumblings was "Lady of Spain I adore you. Pull down your pants I'll explore you" was something that went around the playground for a while. Just a variety of pre-pubescent toilet jokes. Some never get out of that stage but that's a story for another day. Dad was not a swearer either and nor did he possess mum's talent for slipping in those little crudities that shock. Dad had to be very angry to swear and his expletives usually boiled down to: "Bloody bastard". That applied to a person or to accidentally hitting his thumb with the hammer. He did, however, reserve an expression for a person he did not like or trust but it was racist and out of context for my purposes, but that said, I would add that one talent that dad did have was his ability to assess another's character quite quickly.

While on the subject of expletives, colloquialisms and swearing, enter Aunty Lena. First, let me paint the picture of my dear Aunt. She was our resident saint - for me and my sisters at least. Within her own family, there were lots of teasing banter and sometimes to the point of being over the top [but that was a young lad's impression]. You know how it is. Kids get impatient with the ways of parents but, make no mistake, the teasing banter was all love and similar to my own occasional reactions to Ethel. Lena was the instigator of the nightly family rosary - for all of us except for dad who usually did the dishes when we retired for prayer. Two holy girls were the Riley sisters [descended from the Morris clan]. But naughty too. So, now for Lena's unique expletives. While Et usually found a saying to respond to a situation, Lena would come out with an unadulterated string of whatever popped out of her mouth when upset, hurt or angry ......... Bloody buggar, poop, kack, shitty shit, poo poo, kack, bitch, bastard. Straight forward and got out of the way and out of her system.

I think that covers the topic of language and the context. It wasn't a big deal. The crudities were simply part of the expressions that belonged to people, even though I have to admit that, for two holy gals, it may seem incongruous to readers.

 

CHAPTER 2.

I know - I didn't have a Chapter 1. I may make adjustments later but I figured it was time for a natural break and to move things along. Here's a new scene to picture - Uncle Tom is knocking on the door for one of his fairly regular visits.

Come in if you're good looking. 

Tom enters. "G'day Et."

Ah, it's little Tommy Nicholarse who lived at the circarse, lifted up the canvarse and saw the monkey's bare arse. Isn't that ridicularse? 

How's your physical fum face segaciating Thomas?

There was a standard answer. And Tom obliged........ "Not too super alecafusialastically well. Is Nick home?".  

No, he's gone down to the rubbidy to put a few bets on.

Usually Tom would call me and give me his old mags - Pix and Post, and I would go to my room and try to draw the cartoons I found in them for those editions. I began my art interest in that way when I was around 7 or 8. Dad used to find them, take them to work, and give them to his wharfie mates. Very little of my early work survived. I know what you're thinking dear reader ......... Yes, sure, he did his drawing after he had a good perve on the page3 girls. Well, they couldn't be avoided but no, for your information, pre-pubescent boys are not interested in sex and the female form is accepted as a mystery that would one day be revealed. But yes, today it may be different as the young are sexualized by certain interests with an agenda.

Tickle your arse with a feather?. That was mum using a standard tome about the weather; the interpretation being "Particularly nasty weather?" if Tom looked a little wet or wind-blown.

Regarding those quotes above - don;t ask about the spelling or the meaning. I don't have a clue. They are just things we said as per mum's example that became custom. It's going to be like that with some of the sayings that I quote as I go along. Readers will note that many sayings are not unique to mum or to our family. A lot are the lingo of the day. 

Must be a bit rough out there, Tom. Your hair's all over the place like a mad woman's kack. Want a beer?

Tom has a king brown in his bag and asks mum if she wants one.

Bless your cotton socks Tom. Not for me. I like coffee, I like tea, I like sitting on a black fella's knee so I'll wait 'til Nick gets home. I'm a two pot screamer so I don't want to be pissed while I'm trying to cook dinner.

Mum would pour a glass for Tom who would say: "Here's mud in your eye, lass".

Bless your cotton pickin' socks. Drink up, I have to get a wriggle on with lunch.

Tom asks what mum's making for lunch ........... Bread and duck under the table. 

.UNCLE TOM & NANNA [Left]

              ..                                                                                   .UNCLES TOM & LES [Right]

 

CHAPTER 3  

New scene. Mum pops her head in my door to say that she is going out. I ask where she is going.

There and back to see how far it is.

I'm curious and want to know why she has to go out and what she needs to buy. Standard replies .....

I need to buy a wing wong for a goose's bridle. And we're having visitors for tea.

I ask who's coming and she would burst forth with a ditty as was her want.........

Aunty Mary, Aunty Mary, lost the leg of her drawers. Uncle Charlie, Uncle Charlie, won't you lend her yours. I just need something a little fancy to please little Nancy

I'd give up then. We did have an Aunt Mary. We also had an Uncle Charlie who was married to Ethel's and Lena's older sister, Gladys, who lived in the street behind us. Gladys was not in the mold of her mischievous siblings. Charlie was an old Irish rogue who cheated at cards but quite good fun. He took me golfing with his buddies once but there was no repeat invitation because, I think, I could drive the ball farther than he. They had two children, adults at that stage, and I was Confirmation sponsor to one of theirs. There didn't seem to be any friction between our families but it hung in the air that Glad's daughter was married to a police detective. The police were not viewed well by our clan.

It looked like there was going to be a gathering. They often happened on a Saturday night for some period of time. Usually a large crayfish and various foods repellent to us kids festooned the table with various oysters and uncles and aunts attending, after which would be adult card night and/or an Irish sing along. Both Ethel and Lena were expert piano players. "Is it crayfish night again?".

You can get some fish and chips for you kids. You didn't even eat what you got last time. Your eyes are bigger than your belly sometimes. But you know what dad is like; he gets hungry enough to eat a horse and chase its rider. And don't pull that face you get when I put the seafood on the table. You put on a face like a fried fart last time. You kids can take your fish and chips into the kitchen.

Mum always wanted us on good terms and at any hint of tension she would try to make us laugh. Perhaps she thought she had been too critical of me. She fell back on an old trick with ........

Ooh, I've got a pain in the side. Quick, pull my finger, quick so I don't have a pain when I walk to the shop.

I'd been caught too many times for that one and the fart. "No. I'm not falling for that again".

Getting too clever for your own good my lad. You should grease your arse and slip into the next world !!

 I would have asked if she wanted me to go with her but I was at an age where I'd prefer not to be seen walking with my mother, as though I needed help. But there were other reasons. Should we be running late or in between trams, mum could whistle a taxi that was driving along Rucker's Highway maybe 100 meters distant. Kind of embarrassing. Worse, she would inspect that I'd washed behind my ears and, if not, the spit on the hankie would do the trick. Yes, you grow out of these things. Even walking together somewhere or other, mum needed to converse and fill quiet spots. If there was no relevant conversation she would fill it in with a ditty. And she had many. For example, let's imagine that we were walking together and there was a void in the conversation. Then she spots a magpie nearby...........

Mary and the magpie, sitting on the grass. Mary stuck her finger up the magpie's .........ahhh said the magpie, upon my soul, don't you stick your finger up my ahhh, soul.

There was a ditty at the least provocation. Any time, any place. I know not from where they originated. Maybe from her own mother, maybe her brothers of which there were about 5. Perhaps they were of common usage. I don't know. I do remember that mum and Lena would refrain from common talk in the presence of certain relatives who had a prudish streak. I was too young to recall all the personalities involved in our family's life but my cousins, Ellie and Don, would remember who was who and what they were like.

Although not apropos to Ethel and her ways, I'd like to mention the rellies. My first vivid and conscious memory was of Lena and my cousins. That happens to be the case because they baby-sat me when I was two while mum went to hospital to deliver Nancy. Lena was my mum for some days. Oh boy, did I hate the separation but how I loved Lena. Since she was running a deli-type shop, she could not attend to me as I wanted but she did her best. I can't recall if her husband, Fred Murphy, was still around. I recall the ultra steep steps that I had to navigate to the bedrooms and my cousins coming home from school and racing upstairs past me. I felt a bit of a nuisance to be honest. When much older and the Murphys lived with us, I saw the eldest, Don, as too old to have a relationship with but he and Joan seemed very close. Rob was my proxy brother, but only in my mind since he too was much older but I certainly looked up to him and had some desire to emulate his ways. He had a personality type that could get away with anything. Youngest brother, Frank, I had little to do with because he spent some years in a seminary. He left to become a playwright and producer and was killed in a traffic accident on his way to the premier of one of his plays. [I read that play and while it was a wonderful work, it would never go commercial because of its moral theme which supported the Divine Law]. Then there was Eleanor whom I had a crush on at some point but I eventually grew up and gave up on that idea. I still love her, but like a sister and to this day she is a most special person in my life. I have said these things and more in my other books so I won't elaborate further, except that Frank provides an example of what I am trying to impart about our style and way of life that contained both reverence for the holy along with many crude ways at the same time. Frank had a talent whereby he would intentionally walk through our kitchen - visitors or not - and fart to a tune. I think, on looking back, that I came from a people which did everything to avoid the impression of being elitist or 'stuck up'. Ethel would confirm that in many of her sayings .......

She thinks she's shit on a flagpole.

What a ponce he is!

He's got tickets on himself.

What a suckhole.

Ooh, look at Lady Muck.

Well, doesn't he think he's little Lord Fontelroy.

Who does he think he is?... King Farouk!

She likes to bung on side.

I think you get the picture that we were encouraged not to think we were above others in station. That we were ordinary folk yet took exception to being lorded over. Perhaps all that explains my anti-authoritarian attitude.


 

THE SISTERS. ETHEL & LENA.

 
JOAN, FRANK & ELLIE [at back]
NANCY & JOHN 

 
 .

 

-

CHAPTER 4


Let me not give the wrong impression with the above quotes which could appear that Mum was prone to derogatory remarks about others. She was a positive type of woman and not hesitant in dishing out praise.

In her playful teasing mood she would give a back-handed compliment such as the one I have given about being smart and "greasing my arse and slipping into the next world". But she could say the same thing in a way that her admiration was not in question. Thus .........

Too wise you are, too wise you be. I see you are too wise for me.

And that could be written thus.......

2 Y's U R

2 Y's U B

I C U R 

2 Y's 4 ME.

Praise came easy to Mum's lips. e.g. .........

She's a good old stick.

His blood's worth bottling.

He's a clever Dick. No flies on him. [but would often add ........ but you can see where they've been].

Good upon you, brainstrust !

While Aunty Lena was known to us for her even temperedness and comforting advice, Mum was known by others for cheering one up and looking on the bright side. At times it even annoyed my sisters and me when Mum seemed to make light of a situation that we felt to be serious. She might say any of the following ..........

Don't let your bottom lip hit the floor now. you might trip over it.

What's wrong with you, Grizzleguts? 

Put a smile on your dial.

Saying "I'm bored" or "I'm cold" would be met with: Hello cold - I'm your mother.

Wake up Australia, your country needs you.

 

Yes, a positive woman was Mum and dismissive of matters and people that didn't fall in her ambit of things worth worrying about at the same time. That brings me back to my title "Whatever". I recall now many quips from her that were the equivalent of "whatever". Consider these ............

Up your bum with chewing gum, and don't forget to grease it.

Whacko the didleeoh. Bully for you chum.

What do you want? A medal?

Bully for you with brass knobs and don't forget to brass them.

I couldn't give a continental.

You're giving me the Jimmy Britts.

She's as silly as a two bob watch.

He's like Berger paint ..... just keeps on keeping on.

Whatever tickles your fancy.

Bully, she cried, as she waved her wooden leg.

Your funeral, chum.

Stick it up your date. And don't be late.

That's a lot of hooey.

What a lot of Tommy rot.

She's a Miss Goody Goody Two Shoes.

So, that's quite a collection of dismissive remarks. I'll keep the title of "Whatever" for now.

 

..THESE PHOTOS ATTEMPT TO DEPICT JOAN, JOHN & NANCY DURING THE TIME FRAME OF THIS STORY. ..... From Joan pushing Nancy on a swing, to Nancy & I at horse riding i.e. 1949 to 1962.


CHAPTER 5

 Meals are a big thing in families and no less important for ours, especially pre-TV days. Along with meal times came a swathe of rules and customs, usually in the form once again of sayings and ditties. Since we lived in our grandparents' house until I was six, presumably so that Mum and Dad could act as carers, table rules were nanna's and pop's. We bought a house just up the street after they both passed peacefully around 1951. There's not a lot that I can remember but I recall that tea had to be served at the end of the meal and at the table. What was significant was the way the grandies drank it - the tea was poured into their saucers and sipped. They would both retire after their tea and grandad Jack [John Henry], would bring me a licorice allsort or a boiled sweet before he disappeared for the night. I have given their history in "The Sable Provenance" so won't go on further, except to say that I found it hard to eat the chicken that grandma had killed that day and that I had helped to clean. The stench of hot water, chicken flesh and guts does not evapourate readily. Once they had gone off for the night, Mum was want to recite, sotto voce  .........

It's raining, it's pouring

The old man is snoring

He went to bed

And bumped his head,

and couldn't get up in the morning. 

There was a variation on the above for anyone named Dan, which went ........

Dan, Dan, the dirty old man

Washed his face in a frying pan,

Combed his hair with the leg of the chair

And bumped his head on the top of the bed

And couldn't get up in the morning. [Mum's version of an Irish kids' rhyme]

And, of course, one day Jack didn't get up, While Dad had few unique quips to mention, I can recall his comment about the tea, being: "That tea was as weak as gin's piss".[A gin was an Aboriginal woman].

..

 TOP: Nanna Mariah, baby Ethel, Uncle Les. This was their home in country Queensland, 1914, where Grandpa Jack and two eldest worked in mines. About eight of the family lived in this tiny home. [White privilege].

BOTTOM ; Mariah [nee Morris] & Jack [John Henry Riley at Lena's wedding].

 

And so, we come to the Namnik table. Prep was a thing, especially as Mum developed arthritis and I would lend a hand with grating and so on as I did every Saturday with wringing out the washing. It may be off topic to mention cooking but I do want to say something that I did not realize until my adult years, and that is how much trouble Mum went to to please us. For example, I was looking for a dim sim recipe recently and it was hard to find. But Mum - she had made dim sims all that time ago when Chinese foods barely were heard of. And she made them for me, specifically, and she would do that for others if their favorite food became known.

Imagine now, that I walk into the kitchen and Mum is cooking. She sees me. She wants to recite a ditty for my entertainment. She does ............

Mrs. Nichols made some pickles on a windy day. Mrs. Martin came in fartin' and blew them all away.

Now, remember we have visitors, so it's FLO. And don't put your elbows on the table. While you're here, pull your finger out and grate the spuds, but wash your finger first.

The code, FLO, stood for Family Lay Off the serving size in case there was not sufficient to go around. Joan was often at work or else at dancing lessons and Nancy was too young to help, but if she did come into the kitchen it was .......POQ young lady before I give you a BSA. That was: Piss off quick before Mum gives her a bloody sore arse.

If I asked if there would be ice cream, I would only get this ............You scream, they scream, we all scream for ice cream.

  Table rules: No elbows on the table. Visitors are served first. Never leave the table without permission. If finished, place your fork with the tongs down. Eat everything served up. If out for a meal, always say "thanks" and if offered more, say "No thank you, I have had elegant sufficiency". Mum wasn't good at accepting compliments, so to any remark in praise of the meal she would quip ..... Eat it here and die around the corner.

The niceties were reserved for visiting and for when we had visitors home. Rules of niceties were for the kids, not the adults. Should Mum have had "elegant sufficiency" she would not hesitate to declare ........ I'm as full as a family piss pot !

There were ditties for variously named people. The Dan Tucker ditty I quoted earlier [Dan, Dan, the dirty man] could be adapted to Sam or another short name. The ditty I hated that was also recited at me by my cousins was quoted previously ..... John, John, for the lord's sake John etc etc. There were others in the family. Cousin Rob often got - to his anger - Robin Adair with the cast iron affair ! When our first son, Andrew, came into the world Mum had a subject for this one.......... Andy Pandy, pompa laree jig, every man with a baldy head ought to wear a wig.

As the reader may have gathered, the family and extended family did not believe in holding in wind, and wind featured in so many ditties. A regular ditty from Ethel whenever a squeak was heard or a foul smell noticed, she would recite ............ Wherever you may be, let your wind go free, for that was the cause of the death of me. .............. or,.. Better out than in. 

 

 TOP: JOAN at home in Broome [Age aprox late 60's] R.I.P. dod 2018

BOTTOM: NANCY at home in Victoria. [Age aprox early 40's] R.I.P  dod 2002

.Aged 69. City Beach, W.A.

 

CHAPTER 6

There's a danger of misinterpreting Mum's character when her quips and her ways are condensed.  While the off-color quips were constant and many, she had lots of sage advice for her offspring - should they care to listen. But she was prone to filling in any lull or silence, unless she was tackling some housekeeping task. Then, she was head down bum up, working away intently. Even so, she would find time to sing, hum or whistle. If the right song was playing on the kitchen radio either I would grab her, or she would grab me, and we would dance to the tune. Unfortunately, I broke her ribs twice being silly buggers while cutting up the rug. But, she couldn't come into any room that I was in without some form of contact, either physical or verbal. Sometimes it was both as in a typical situation where I was in the kitchen alone, doing something at the sink, Mum would enter, poke me in the rear end and say .......... Up your date for one and eight - down again for two and ten. And what mischief are you getting up to m'lad?

I'd get you to help me with mixing up a cake but since you ate all the powdered milk and drank too much out of the condensed milk after school yesterday, then you'll have to go to the shop if you want dessert tonight. That was another thing about Ethel. We were latch key kids with both parents working and I, being of an age where no amount of food is enough, would steal a spoon of powdered milk, have a good sip of the condensed milk remainder, eat a spoonful of sugar, then find the biscuits she had hidden in her wardrobe, on coming home from school. No matter how well I washed up and hid the evidence, Mum knew. I was never chastised.

Back to the sage advice - or should I say "sages". Were Dad and I not off at the footy, Saturday afternoon would see Mum and Lena sitting in the lounge with a bottle of Pimm's No.1 Cup and their smokes while Dad was either at work or else dodging the coppers at the SP bookies in a laneway opposite the Albion Pub. It was open session if any of us wanted to wander in to the lounge and talk about our little problems. While conversation was quite normal, it was the way of things that either or both wise owls would drop some saying or other to make a point. Examples ...............

Hell's bells and buckets of blood Et, there's not much left of the Pimm's

Still enough Leen to go a round or two for a pound or two.

Enter me, looking for where I might find a new roll of toilet paper [staring and not properly tucked in ].. .......

What are you staring at Johnathon?........ You know what they say: "Made you look, made you stare, made the barber cut your hair. He cut it long, he cut it short, he cut it so you couldn't talk". What's wrong my boy, with your shirt hanging out. Giddy giddy gout, your shirt's hanging out. Five miles in and five miles out?

Mum would have to chip in ........... John, John, John, for the lord's sake John, put yer troosers on!

"Where's the spare toilet paper?"

In days of olde, when Knights were bold and paper wasn't invented, they wiped their arse on blades of grass, and went away contented.

I think you'd better tell the poor boy, Et. John looks like he's got more than a Chinese bladder and wants to spend more than a penny. Looks like he hasn't got a month of Sundays to wait, jumping around there like a fart trying to get out of a bottle.

"C'mon Mum. I'm in a hurry" I say.

Mum gives a 'humph' at that and exclaims "Crikey Moses"!!!! And I think: "Oh no, please don't say the rest of that ditty. Pleeeze!' But she does ............

...........King of the Jews, sold his wife for a pair of shoes.

When the shoes began to wear, Crikey Moses began to swear.

When the swear began to stop, Crikey Moses bought a shop.

When the shop began to sell, Crikey Moses went to Hell.

While it could take a while to endure the banter that they indulged in when together, they were open to discussing anything and giving sensible advice. [Accompanied by the inevitable saying]. Take these situations, for example ..............

When someone had shot through ............ They've done a double bunk !

Describing a lucky person ......... He's as tinny as a piss pot. ..........Got the luck of the Irish ....... She must think all her Christmases have come at once.

About anyone who has good fortune that meant nothing to Et ..........Bully for him! ......Goody goody gumdrops .............She is welcome to it, with knobs on and don't forget to brass 'em. ....... Oh, she's just bunging on side........... Ignore him, he's just a blowhard.

The exclamation at some good event or beneficial thing ............. That's a humdinger! ........ What a bobby dazzler! ..........Whacko the didleeoh.......... No bout a doubt it! ........ Well, I'll go "he" ......... Strike me pink! ......... That's good as gold.

Anytime swimming or going to the beach was mentioned .............Mother may I go in for a swim? Yes you may my daughter. Hang your clothes on the mulberry bush, but don't go near the water.

Relating to fear ............ That'll put the wind up her! ................ He's a breezy arse!

Whenever milk is mentioned ............ Mary, go milk the bull. There's only one tit to pull, and that's in the middle so mind it don't piddle, but Mary go milk the bull.

 . LENA the Bride, circa 1930.

 

CHAPTER 7

  Whatever one may think having come this far, I hope the reader has come to know my mother and Aunty a little more. And that you have at least had a little giggle. I'm not going to wax philisophical on the nature of idioms, expletives, quips and expressions nor compare then to now. Suffice to say that I'm pleased to have recorded expressions which have disappeared only to be replaced by bland emotive vocalization of conformity and base, foul language, but there are several good books written which have preserved old expressions. Such expressions were quite an accurate depiction of attitudes and emotions that were acceptable [barely in some cases] as well as amusing, and there was variety. All that went towards making for interesting conversational exchanges. It's not considered cool to indulge in idiocentric language today, but it has largely disappeared anyway. Language is culture and the Aussie-Anglo uniqueness has become almost indistinguishable from the American, through conformity to the entertainment media. All that is left for me to record are some miscellaneous sayings that inhabited our childhood.

Whenever possible, normal conversational terms had to be messed with in Mum's world. The ordinary had to be made extraordinary or depart from the accepted. Approach Ethel with a request and she would give some variation to the standard: "What can I do for you?" No, it was:.... What can I do you for? And as per a previous example, she would not say: "No doubt about it"! No, she would say ....... No bout a doubt it! It wouldn't be a simple: "How are you?" No, it would be ........ How's your physical fum face segaciating? Often too, the expression would carry a double entendre. Thus, she would not say a goodbye as: "See you later". No, too banal. Et would say ........ See you when you've got nothing on.

Instead of simply demanding: "Hurry up", it would be ...... Get a wriggle on. Anything or anyone that drew today's response of being cool or great or fantastic, was ...........What a rip snorter! Clinking glasses drew the congenial wish, not of "cheers" or "down the hatch", for it was .......Here's mud in your eye. We would rarely get a straight answer to any question. There was a variety of responses. Take the simple question: "Where have you been?" or "Where are you going?" ......... There and back to see how far it is. ........... To see a man about a dog....... I'm going to Paw Punka to pick punkins.  If Et couldn't finish her meal, she wouldn't say she had had enough or that she was full. No, she'd say ........... My eyes are bigger than my belly. An overly confident person has .........Got more front than Foy and Gibson. A rich person wasn't wealthy but ....... living in clover.

A lot of sayings, indeed advice, revolved around money matters. Such sayings were ....... Be penny wise and pound foolish. ......... Look after the pennies. The pounds will look after themselves. ........ In for a penny, in for a pound. ........[ But to "spend a penny" meant to use the toilet]........ We're so broke at the moment, I can't afford a deposit on a knob of blue...... Money's a bit tight this week. It looks like I'll have to hawk my pearly! ......... We haven't got two pennies to rub together this week. ...... We're stoney broke this week.

Maybe this one applied more to us kids, but if you snitched on someone, you stood accused ........ Tell tale tit, your tongue will split and all the little dicky birds will have a bit.

Going to bed or told to go to bed ............ Be off to the blanket show.

Ask for a match, you'd be told ................Your face and my bum.

If we were in a mood or looked upset ........... Always remember - it's a good life if you don't weaken.

If there were words which could be altered, Mum would change them. She wouldn't ask not to be kept in suspense for an answer. No, she would say ........Don't keep me in suspenders. And that reminds me that we weren't allowed to refer to someone as "she", which I thought was impracticable. Every time we said it, we just heard .......... She's the cat's mother. Call her by name. It was much the same if we referred to "kids". Mum would recite the ditty:......Kids eat oats, and does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy. Kids'll eat ivy too - wouldn't you?

Mum would say of slim people .......... She's as skinny as a match with the wood scraped off. ...........She's fading away to a shadow.

Anything on the creepy side ........ That gives me the heebie jeebies!

Random references when Mum couldn't think of the correct name: ........... Where's that dooverlacky? ..... or, Where's that thingamejig? ........... You know who I mean - Missus Kafoops.

Someone who wasn't all there had ........bats in the belfry. .....Silly as a two bob watch ..... He's gone gah gah.  Someone who was hearing impaired was .........deaf in one ear and can't hear out of the other.

If Mum gave you no choice ...........Like it or lump it, chum.

If Mum didn't know the answer to one of my questions .......... You tell me and we'll both know.

If we were a bit tardy ......... Get a wriggle on........ Shake a leg ......... No time for a bath, there's only time for a lick and a promise.

If we were caught poking our tongue ...........Careful, the wind might change and you'll stay like that forever.

Should one of us look a bit lonely or down, Mum would sing a song to which I can't remember more words than .............He's a lonely little petunia in the onion patch.

Should one of us get the chatters or talk too fast ......... Let me have a look in your mouth. I think you swallowed a gramaphone needle. ............. Going hammer and tongs you are. Come up for a breath.

 If we left a door open ...........Were you born in a tent?

When at that age: "Mum, one of my bottom teeth just fell out"................You haven't got teeth in your bottom, not unless someone bit you on the bum.

Her advice on being circumspect in all things ............Never let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.......... No need to kick up a stink ...........Cool your heels, chum......... Make sure your brain saves your legs............ Don't keep asking "why". Y is a crooked letter and X is no better.........Don't pick your nose or your brains will fall out.......... Don't scratch your bum in public unless you are picking your seat for the movies......... Think before you act and that'll make you a fart smeller.

When very young, two pence bought a bag of lollies. Every time I asked for tuppence, Mum would sing me the jingle ............ The little monkey wants two pence, to see the elephant jump the fence. The higher he goes, the more he shows - two black spots upon his nose.

Always out to lighten the mood, to relieve others' burdens, and to entertain, whenever someone sighed an "Oh dear" within earshot, Mum would finish a ditty that she knew .............

Oh dear, three old maids locked in the lavatory

They were there from Mondee 'til Sundee 

And nobody knew they were there.

That folks, brings me to the end. I will send this MS to dear Ellie for possible additions and corrections, following which I will tidy it up.

THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES, MUM & LENA.

You're welcome as the sun in May, chum.

 


 
         
                                                                                                                                
                                                                                                                                     

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