Am in a pickle And it does not tickle Don’t want to bickle Mini white onions are just to fickle Big pickled onions from England are my wickle Silly Swiss onions are a trickle Am now in a very big pickle.
The scooters are uploaded and ready to go. Their riders will soon finish lunch in the golden oldie home and will be again in the saddle, making the town unsure. Where will they be going and what troubles will they cause? Perhaps they will exceed the speed limit or park where it is not allowed.
We lived like most married couples. We were both working, but at home Mr. Swiss would care for the business side of things and I would care for the household side of things although we shared most of the physical work. One day we became old, too old to continue our life as we thought it would be.
And now Mr. Swiss is in a golden oldie home where he gets the care he needs, which I could no longer give him due to my handicap of MS. Luckily the home is just around the corner and we see each other quite often.
However life has changed for me. I take care of paying all the bills for myself, Mr. Swiss and my son who is autistic. I had to learn how to complete the income tax declaration although I have an accountant to help. I take care of our insurances. I had to employ a domestic help as I could no longer manage with the cleaning tasks. I learned how the computer printer works.
Now and again I think how it used to be, how we imagined our days would be when we were retired. Going on holiday is out of the question for both of us. So much has changed, but life goes on. Before now seems to be another world.
This is the house that I grew up in, in London – a slum. It was built in 1884 and in those days it was quite special with gas lamps, a stove that warmed the room and where you could cook with it. We had electricity when we moved in the house, but the gas holders were still on the wall. It was in a street with identical houses. There was no hot water, and compared to today it was quite primitive. We had a small garden at the back of the house where the toilet was. It survived two world wars. According to my mum we would have been better off if it did not, as we would have had a better newer house afterwards. However, we were all glad to have survived.
As the years passed it met its fate. Did they rejuvenate it? Of course not, it was not possible.
And this is how it looks today. It was demolished in the 1970’s, it did not even survive 100 years, and replaced by a small park. Hard to believe that almost 100 small houses were on this small plot of land.
This time not the beautiful flowers, but the root system they sometimes develop. This one probably decided it wanted to established a second orchid plant. I just let it do its own thing and see what happens.
I live next to a market town and on the market days the streets are quite busy. For many years I never had the time to go as I was bringing up the kids and Mr. Swiss was never keen on going on the markets. Since he is now in a golden oldie home, I have rediscovered the markets and go now and again. I like mixing in the crowds again. My mother-in-law even dressed for the occasion especially on Saturday Morning when it was see and be seen by all her friends and neighbours.
The second Monday in the month is the general market when everything is sold from toilet seats to groceries and ornaments in between. I remember when it was also a cattle market, but that was stopped some years ago. The cows were gathered next to one of our railway stations and sold there. Then we have the vegetable and flower market regularly on Wednesday Morning. Of course there is also a market festival when various stalls serve drink and food. There is a foreign food festival. And let us not forget the Father Christmas market during December. There used to be a Christmas market, but since the last few years, probably due to Covid, it has not been held and I read today that it is now finished.
I am Ahmed Abdi, a Wordpress blogger and storyteller who searches for stories that inspire people. I love writing because it’s a reflection of how I perceive the world around me. Lost in a world of endless chaos in my childhood, Unforgettable moments of tragedy and triumphs taught me the art of storytelling where I found myself through letter writing and then turned into stories but then sadly had lost everything I wrote for years. In 2018, I decided to create a Wordpress blog site that would allow me to store and retrieve every piece. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring! I’m a tea lover so a cup of tea sometimes makes my blog.
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!