THAT TIME OF YEAR

THAT TIME OF YEAR

Aside.

Yesterday, the 23rd of January is reputed to be the worst day of the year.  So it’s over – let it go.  Here the weather was foul with gales which I expected would stop ‘the girls’ from coming round especially as one of them was bringing Melissa who is in her nineties and physically quite frail.  I was delighted when they all turned up - and made getting the house toasty, worth while.

Melissa and I were the only ones who would eat the luxury biscuits – she is as light as a feather and I’m back to my pre- Christmas weight.  I showed her a miniature painting of Dunster church she had once done, which I have treasured for years. It seemed all of us had a painting or a piece of pottery of hers and this moved her to tears.

We discussed an article I had read on the advantages of chastity. We talked about grand-children and how different it was for them compared to our girlhood. I said it probably would have been better if I had slept with someone before marriage and Melissa said vehemently,
‘’I should have slept with lots of men,’ which made us all laugh.

As we grouped round Melissa’s chair so that MTL could take a photograph she asked if she could remove her glasses and stand up. She was prettily dressed in a soft pink. Once a woman – always a woman.

MTL no longer celebrates Burns night with a haggis but round about the 25th of January – probably the poet and balladeer’s birthday – we remember him and his unique poetry.
http://www.rabbie-burns.com/index.cfm for those of you who would like to know more about him. Here’s a sample:-

John Anderson, My Jo

John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent:
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
Jon Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a cantie day John,
We’ve had wi’ane anither;
Now we maun totter down John’
And hand in hand we’ll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.

Brent (smooth) pow (head) cantie (lively)

ROBERT BURNS
1759-1796