In the spirit of all of the complaints about young people today, I present you with a guest post by Mrs. Norbert Thrummox (nee Delphine Brumley), my entirely fictional great grandmother.
We didn’t have anything, get anything, or expect anything. Christmas was pretty much like every other day of the year, only colder. Our parents didn’t even know our birthdays, let alone celebrate them with cake and presents! We never heard of such luxuries.
Breakfast was weevily cornmeal sprinkled on a half-sheet of newspaper, lunch was what we could forage on the playground at school, and supper was what we could beg from the bar we’d have to drag our daddy from at closing time. (Mostly pickled eggs, or sliced radishes in summer.) This was difficult, as we’d have to get up at 5 a.m. to make it to school by 8, but we were usually good and hungry for our suppers by 1 a.m. or so. But we didn’t mind! We were free. Most things were free, because we didn’t have any money. Theft was non-existent in our community. I’d like to say that we never locked our doors, but that would imply that we had doors. Most of us didn’t. Continue Reading »