Nette Nette
Without Prejudice
When I was a little girl my brothers called me Nette nette. A pet name and used especially when they wanted something, which was often. "Nette", they would say drawing out the name, beseeching me but it never worked. I was Miss Independent even then. Jackie my older lady like sister said at Presbyterian dances I would be scooting up and down the floor, sliding on stockingined feet in the sawdust, the boards highly polished providing an imaginary skating rink.
Jackie despaired of me ever being lady like as my fine hair would not curl, rag roll, bobby oin or hold a ribbon for more than a few seconds. I hated being in the house doing "girly things", I wanted to swim and run and skip and outwit my brothers and all boys, as all boys smelt, spat, and looked disgustingly dirty all the time.
By the time I was 8 I had to do my Junior Deb, weeks went into making me a dress. I had to toil up the hill to Mrs M', place, the local dressmaker. She was enormously fat and had what seemed like a hundred kids and a lazy no good husband who drank and beat everyone in the family, according to the kids. They hid when he came home drunk so he couldn't reach them with the strap. I was goggle eyed about this as my Dad never even so much as scolded me my entire life.
I loved going there. Walking up the hill of green lush grass, below me the Belabula River, alughing and chattering over pebbles, the sky unending blue, the sun soaking into my baby bones and tearing strips off my nose with monotonous regularity. I knew once the fitting was done the kids and I would run to the banks of the River and swing out on Weeping Willow branches and drop like stones into the cold water.
We would toast ourselves on the flat rocks the scent of hot flesh invading our nostrils and making us shiver. The rocks were so warm and our bodies luxuriated in the warmth. We swang again and again and watched out for deep holes where the water was dark and silent. I had no brothers and sister there that day to keep me company and it felt good to have friends of my own even though my Mother would not have approved.
Mum and Dad were teetotallers, never ever drank and disapproved of anyone that did. Mindst you they smoked for Britain, my Mother a chain smoker lighting one off the other but everyone smoked in those days.
When I was a little girl my brothers called me Nette nette. A pet name and used especially when they wanted something, which was often. "Nette", they would say drawing out the name, beseeching me but it never worked. I was Miss Independent even then. Jackie my older lady like sister said at Presbyterian dances I would be scooting up and down the floor, sliding on stockingined feet in the sawdust, the boards highly polished providing an imaginary skating rink.
Jackie despaired of me ever being lady like as my fine hair would not curl, rag roll, bobby oin or hold a ribbon for more than a few seconds. I hated being in the house doing "girly things", I wanted to swim and run and skip and outwit my brothers and all boys, as all boys smelt, spat, and looked disgustingly dirty all the time.
By the time I was 8 I had to do my Junior Deb, weeks went into making me a dress. I had to toil up the hill to Mrs M', place, the local dressmaker. She was enormously fat and had what seemed like a hundred kids and a lazy no good husband who drank and beat everyone in the family, according to the kids. They hid when he came home drunk so he couldn't reach them with the strap. I was goggle eyed about this as my Dad never even so much as scolded me my entire life.
I loved going there. Walking up the hill of green lush grass, below me the Belabula River, alughing and chattering over pebbles, the sky unending blue, the sun soaking into my baby bones and tearing strips off my nose with monotonous regularity. I knew once the fitting was done the kids and I would run to the banks of the River and swing out on Weeping Willow branches and drop like stones into the cold water.
We would toast ourselves on the flat rocks the scent of hot flesh invading our nostrils and making us shiver. The rocks were so warm and our bodies luxuriated in the warmth. We swang again and again and watched out for deep holes where the water was dark and silent. I had no brothers and sister there that day to keep me company and it felt good to have friends of my own even though my Mother would not have approved.
Mum and Dad were teetotallers, never ever drank and disapproved of anyone that did. Mindst you they smoked for Britain, my Mother a chain smoker lighting one off the other but everyone smoked in those days.
