The Twelfth Of May And Other Birthdays
Without Prejudice
I have always loved May as a Month. My daughter, Alena born on the eighth, the best, happiest placid baby, ever born. A little Taurus. Her daughter, Tiana born on the third, nephews born on the 1st and fourth, my second oldest daughter's partner born on the ninth, Kerry Cue and Kerry Froud at the end of the month and today, the twelfth, my older Sister, Jacqueline or Jackie or just Jac.
She of the thick dark glossy hair, always neatly plaited whilst I five years younger was blessed with fine, baby fine blonde hair. A little Tomboy, always scruffy, always squinting and always out of the house with the brothers.
Jackie preferred hanging out with Mum, inside, the domestic sciences learned from so young. Me, loathing nothing more. I hated cooking and never learned to cook until I was married, at seventeen. Jackie was nineteen, that is the way it was in those days. Even now she loves a dinner party, the setting out of fine china and silver cutlery. Proper napkins.
We fought a lot. She the proper older Sister and me the annoying little Sister, that watches and dobs on the older siblings. We were dressed alike, dresses made by a lady that " sewed " a dress maker. We stood on chairs as we were pinned and hemmed with material and each outfit had a matching little bolero. One of white cotton lace and one with fuzzy wuzzy angora.
All made for Church on Sundays. We wore tiny white gloves and hats and carried our own little plastic handbags with " stamps " in them, if we were good girls and had remembered our scriptures.
I can remember Jackie singing, Calvary and Onward Christian Soldiers from as far back as I can remember, after Church, while we were still all fired up from Sunday School. Drying the dishes and singing, trying to remember all the words. She was angelic and devout and I was a horrible little heathen who would surely go to Hell for lying to the Sunday School Teacher.
That was very embarrassing for my Presbyterian parents. Dad was a Reader in the Church and Mum belonged to the P W A. My oldest brother Ian was a Sunday School Teacher. I lied that it was my birthday so I could have more " stamps " than Jackie.
And she told the Teacher it was not my birthday at all. So I was a liar but I get to keep the stamps. After that I never lied again. I was never tempted to steal anyway which was just as well. I knew people really were in trouble for that.
I have always loved May as a Month. My daughter, Alena born on the eighth, the best, happiest placid baby, ever born. A little Taurus. Her daughter, Tiana born on the third, nephews born on the 1st and fourth, my second oldest daughter's partner born on the ninth, Kerry Cue and Kerry Froud at the end of the month and today, the twelfth, my older Sister, Jacqueline or Jackie or just Jac.
She of the thick dark glossy hair, always neatly plaited whilst I five years younger was blessed with fine, baby fine blonde hair. A little Tomboy, always scruffy, always squinting and always out of the house with the brothers.
Jackie preferred hanging out with Mum, inside, the domestic sciences learned from so young. Me, loathing nothing more. I hated cooking and never learned to cook until I was married, at seventeen. Jackie was nineteen, that is the way it was in those days. Even now she loves a dinner party, the setting out of fine china and silver cutlery. Proper napkins.
We fought a lot. She the proper older Sister and me the annoying little Sister, that watches and dobs on the older siblings. We were dressed alike, dresses made by a lady that " sewed " a dress maker. We stood on chairs as we were pinned and hemmed with material and each outfit had a matching little bolero. One of white cotton lace and one with fuzzy wuzzy angora.
All made for Church on Sundays. We wore tiny white gloves and hats and carried our own little plastic handbags with " stamps " in them, if we were good girls and had remembered our scriptures.
I can remember Jackie singing, Calvary and Onward Christian Soldiers from as far back as I can remember, after Church, while we were still all fired up from Sunday School. Drying the dishes and singing, trying to remember all the words. She was angelic and devout and I was a horrible little heathen who would surely go to Hell for lying to the Sunday School Teacher.
That was very embarrassing for my Presbyterian parents. Dad was a Reader in the Church and Mum belonged to the P W A. My oldest brother Ian was a Sunday School Teacher. I lied that it was my birthday so I could have more " stamps " than Jackie.
And she told the Teacher it was not my birthday at all. So I was a liar but I get to keep the stamps. After that I never lied again. I was never tempted to steal anyway which was just as well. I knew people really were in trouble for that.
