Thursday, January 18, 2007

Hostilities Resumed

Simon, if you're reading this can you tell Jackie that hostilities have been resumed? That mad old woman, with the flyaway hair, mouth slightly open baring her teeth in unconscious snarl, is at it again.

Started with the gate. She shut it slightly to make it difficult for Mom to reverse out. Mom had tuition to go for. She woke me up. I heard the sweeping with a purpose going on behind and thought, uh oh, what have we here?

Now I'd gone to bed about 4 this morning, nobody's fault, was just faffing around, reading Chub's present to me, watching two episodes of The Waltons, reading Blandings Castle, you know how it is. So wasn't too pleased to be woken up. But when I heard the purposeful sweeping, I thought, oh dear, here we go again.

And Jackie, I know it's hard to believe, I know you think the Big M is exaggerating, but there I was, sitting on the blue stool, after I closed our gate on the Moms pulling out, when who should stride purposefully forward, but the Strange and Crazy Relative.

At first she placed a few plastic bags in the bin. Saw me sitting there, twice as big as life, decided I looked sleepy (I was) and that I wouldn't stick around, so it was safe for her to come back. Returned with another tiny plastic bag of rubbish and saw me still seated there like the Buddha.

Then she returned with her trusty broom and dustpan. There I was, playing with Maggotty, watching her silently.

Silent and hostile, that's me.
The mandur, that's me.
Cross my path and you won't know what hit you, that's me.

Honestly Jacks, there was nothing whatsoever to sweep, so at first, she started pulling in some grass from the the little incline behind the culvert. Then she went out onto the road. And swept. Every so often she would shoot these poisonous glances in my direction and I would get to thinking...why do you wander the field with gloves, oh thin grey woman that nobody loves. Not that she was wearing gloves. But she certainly is a thin grey woman that nobody loves.

Anyway sweeping up the hill didn't work, so she tried sweeping down the hill. The people from across the road in the stall having their morning roti canai looked amused. Mad Hatter at it again. Sweeping roads. I mean maybe the JB city council should pay her or something. Give her street-sweeping contracts. Am sure she would do a very good job.

I continued to sit there stolidly. In my own house, playing with my dogs, why you looking at me like that, you crazy geriatric? Finally she gave up and went to the back, where she swept up leaves in a temper.

I decided to stick around, although I'd prefer to go back to sleep, and keep an eye on the situation. I peep out of that hole in the wall on the steps to see her still sweeping. Wonder what is going on in that tiny brain. Wonder how much of her is still sane.

That thin grey woman that nobody loves...


Jackie said...

Jenn, do you suppose that the 'thin grey woman' could be jealous of your mother because your mother has you? And what, exactly, is a mandur?

Jenn said...

The things the thin grey woman are jealous about defy description. But no, not me. Maybe my sister Julie who's everyone's little sweetheart. And a mandur is an overseer, you know the one who stands around during a project to see that no one is shirking...