Looking Good, Mary E-Book

Mary Robinson

• Herausgeber: Clink Street Publishing
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 97

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"Looking Good, Mary" is something my parrot used to say to me and when I was feeling low it gave me a real lift. This book of poems started as a collection of memoirs that I wrote for my children. It is a mixture of things that happen in everyday life - funny and sometimes sad. I am still amused as I read these as every one of them is a true story from my life.

Leseprobe

Looking Good, Mary

Mary Robinson

To my darling daughter, I have you to thank for this.

Contents

Title PageDedicationIntroductionThe BeginningStarting Boarding SchoolNorlandsThe SnakeMy First JobLabourAnd Then…Our Trip to VegasMy Pressie from My SisterA miracle!Cold SoresThe Chip VanThe Man on the BikeThe New Year’s Eve KissDinner Round Some FriendsThe Taxi Fare to Cromer HospitalHenny PennySitting at the Job Centre.Feeling LowPainThe Marriage ProposalAnn’s 16th Birthday TreatLosing weightMy OperationBuying PetrolHaving My Tooth OutWhen The Car Caught Fire!An Interview in Bath and the Postman!SpidersThe PierMy First attempt at Wallpapering!The ChandelierAlton TowersThe Ladybird InfestationThe Job in Worcester and the Sick BabySitting on the TrainThe Norland ReunionFinding WalnutsMy Fig TreeThe ‘Take That’ Concert at WembleyMy GardenGrowing VegThe Mystery of the Garden Gnome!EpilogueThanksCopyright

Introduction

Life is so different, particularly for a woman in your 40s when you have to start all over again as I have, and without a man. This book is about everyday events that have personally happened to me.

Names have been changed to protect those in question, though I have used my ex- husband’s name as I know that he wouldn’t mind and would probably laugh to know that he is in my book. Unfortunately, he is no longer with us after taking his life in 2008. I do sometimes wonder “Why me?”, does this happen to other people? Of course it does, but nothing makes it easier when it’s happening to you.

I am seriously blonde, and have been told that I am a rare breed! I don’t think so I’m just me and as I seem to have had a pretty colourful life, I thought I would share some of my past and present with you. I’ve put the bad behind me, and look forward to the future. “Think positive” my dad used to say, and I do.

So, with my daughter now living with me, I move on. We were lying in bed one night talking between rooms and I was saying how I wished I was rich and what I would do if I was. It was then that she said, “Hey Mum why don’t you write, you are so good at it?”, and it all started when we went to Vegas just after Chris had died.

I kept a diary, which is how the book began.

And when I was rock bottom, I felt it and taught my parrot to say “Looking good Mary” which, yes she did say – and still does. So no matter how bad I felt, she always cheered me up. That is why I chose to call my book Looking Good, Mary.

3

The Beginning

We are now in a credit crunch the telly says it all,

With growing unemployment, and prices that will fall.

But every day it worries me, it’s like a massive stitch

I’m fed up being poor – if only I were rich.

I lay in bed at night and think – what is there I can do,

That’ll bring me in some money, and stop me feeling blue?

I am a Norland Nanny, and children I do love,

But recently my life has changed – is there a God above?

So with pen poised and fire lit I slowly start to write,

Of things that happen every day,

that give me strength to fight.

So I’m hoping that you’ll read my poems,

and treat them like an itch,

That constantly need scratching

and they’ll one day make me rich.

***

4

Starting Boarding School

I consider myself so incredibly lucky to have had

the childhood that I had,

With a Mum and Dad and two sisters,

though a brother wouldn’t have been bad.

The time had come and a decision was made,

that we should go away,

To a boarding school in Ditchingham,

this wasn’t too far away.

At the time it all seemed daunting,

and a really massive move,

But looking back I realise now

how prudish it would prove.

All my clothes were neatly labelled with

MARY NEEDS in black,

And each one had to be stitched by hand,

right down to the outdoor mack.

It was All Hallows School for girls,

which was a convent that had nuns,

And to me at the age of twelve,

that didn’t sound much fun.

My trunk was packed with uniform,

mufti shoes and socks,

And stood beside was a smallish trunk,

which was known as my ‘Tuck Box’. 5

It was crammed right full with chocolate biscuits,

sweets and sherbet drops,

And crunchy things when put in mouth

would crackle snap and pop.

We had to be at school by noon,

as it was frowned upon if late,

So Mum stuck her foot down pronto,

and briskly reached the gates,

Where the sign read All Hallows School for Girls,

then my stomach really churned,

Was I really going away to leave my parents

for whom I’d yearn?

A sixth form girl she greeted us

“Do you want to come with me?”

And she led us up and up the stairs,

to a little dormitory.

The beds were scattered round the room

and I finally dropped my trunk, 6

Beside a massive skyscraper,

I was on the bottom bunk!

That took some getting used to,

getting jiggled like a stick,

Every time the other moved

it made you feel quite sick.

At 7.20 in the morning sharp,

the bell would ring on time,

To get us up, washed and dressed

and downstairs to form a line.

Breakfast always smelled so good

and nobody was ever late,

To miss the sausage eggs and bacon

that was put upon our plates.

The food it was delicious,

and matron always made sure,

That nobody left the table hungry,

and could always ask for more.

7.30pm lights-out time,

Matron ordered us all in bed, 7

I negotiated the metal bar so as not to bang my head.

“Lights out now,” she said,

“there mustn’t be any talking.”

Surely that’s impossible

for youngsters who are always squawking.

As it was a convent school,

the chapel was a must,

And it seemed that we were constantly there,

from morning, noon till dusk.

But my love of music took a grip,

and soon it would aspire,

And I joined the team with Sister Sheila

that formed the convent choir.

I simply just adored it and never made a fuss,

And yes, we probably were there it seemed

from morning, noon till dusk.

We would hammer out those songs,

and sing our hearts aloud,

And I’m sure that even God above

would think we’d done him proud.

Always on a Thursday night,

after practice we would flee

Like rockets back to main school

to see the highlights on TV,

Which was in those days Top of the Pops

which seemed tremendous fun,

And if you legged it quick enough,

you’d catch the Number One! 8

Getting confirmed was a major thing

when you went to a convent school,

Preparation was essential,

so on the day you didn’t look a fool.

I had a brand-new dress,

common prayer book and bright white socks,

But panic set in on close examination –

I’d caught the chicken pox.

“It’s no good ducky,” said Matron

“You’ll have to stay in bed.”

And the rest of the girls were lucky

as the service went ahead.

So guess what happened,

because I was sick and on the pillow my head laid,

I was confirmed in the little school chapel,

and history I had made.

Saint Gabriel’s was a dormitory

that was furthest from the Head, 9

So you could get away with mischief

when you should be tucked up in bed.

The shiny floor was perfect

and with just socks on your feet,

With opened doors you could skid right through

which was fun and pretty neat.

But as per usual it got out of hand

and somebody cracked their head,

And landed at the foot of matron who yelled,

“Get back into bed”!

The weeks were regimentally run and all rolled into one,

But weekends they were different,

and sometimes real good fun.

On Saturday afternoons, we’d sit around and talk

Till a sixth former would announce,

“C’mon we’re going for a walk”.

So with boots, hats and coats put on we formed a crocodile

And they frogmarched us round the countryside,

which seemed for endless miles.

Our legs would ache, our faces red

and boy did some of us moan,

“Are we ever going to turn around

and make our way back home?”

And home is what we called it,

and I know it sounds insane,

But if I had the chance to relive my life

I’d do it all again.

I sometime dream of my days at school, 10

for such happy days they were,

And it gave me the confidence and stability

that I have today for sure.

As I slowly progressed to sixth form,

I was in the lucky class

That a sixth form house would be built for us,

and the plans had just been passed.

We slowly watched it grow,

and it was tempting not to peep,

As furniture was assembled,

and built-in rooms where we’d sleep.

A spiral staircase was fitted, and ages it did take,

Unlucky for the person in the room next door,

cos the room walls they did shake!

I had my final year there, and reaped the benefits,

And for my leaving party – I ordered loads of chips

From the local fish and chip shop, which really wasn’t far,

And I was one of the lucky ones who owned a little car.

The whole form was invited, the Head and Matron too,

The people in the chip shop laughed

when the order it came through.

“Hello,” I said, “it’s me – I was wondering if you could do

A massive order of chips with vinegar in bags for 42?”

It must have looked a funny sight,

us all sat on the floor,

Plonked on bean bags randomly,

that spread beyond the door. 11

The end of term service had come,

and no matter how I tried,

That dreaded song Jerusalem –

I sobbed and choked and cried,

And looking back I realise now,

my parents I thank them for

Sending me to such a wonderful school,

that doesn’t exist anymore.

***

12

Norlands

I am a Norland Nanny,

You know the ones you see,

Pushing great big prams in uniform,

Hat, gloves, brown coat – that’s me.

The college then was set in Berkshire

in truly beautiful grounds,

Where eventually along a massive drive set back,

the house did stand.

It looked just like a stately home

with a huge big entrance door,

And great big pillars and windows too

that reached from sky to floor.

But this wasn’t where I was to sleep, no;

I was to follow the clock

That led me down a drive, round the corner

to a building called Stable Block. 13

I shared a room with three other girls

and it is only fair to say,

That we formed a friendship that has never died,

and I keep in touch today.