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'244
6 — THE BRUSSELS POST, MARCH 28, 1979
THE LARGEST FAMILY — The Ken Johnston family with its five
members was picked as the largest family at the carnival at the Brussels,
Morris and Grey Community Centre Saturday night.
(Brussels Post Photo
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley
(Continued from Page 2)
way. They may as well throw in a bonus.
Yes, I welcome spring, but there's one
aspect of it that I very nearly loathe. That's
when the first yellow sun begins to filter
through those murky storm windows,
which we daren't take off until mid-May.
It isn't the sun that bothers me. It's the
Old Battleaxe. She throws away her
survival kit, the cataracts are peeled from
her eyes, and she starts driving me out of
my skull.
"Bill Smiley, look at those drapes!" I
look. They look fine to me. Same old ones
we had in January. Green and gold with
cigarette smoke and hot air from the
anC,7nt furnace, but perfectly serviceable
drapes.
"Look at that rug. Filthy! Look at the
chesterfield. The Boys have ruined it: jam,
bananas, yoghurt! Look at that woodwork.
It was off-white in the fall, and now it's
off-black! The wall paper is disgusting!"
Well, I19ok up from my paper with every
demand, and everything looks just the
same to me as it did a month ago.
Comfortable. Warm. Lived-in. I venture
such an opinion. It is met with a torrent of
abuse, self-pity, and materialistic
avariciousness.
"You don't care, do you? You'd live in a
-pig-pen, wouldn't you? Other men help
their wives keep the place decent, don't
they? Have you no eyes in your head?
Aren't you ashamed of this "wreck" room
that used to be our living-room?"
Faced with a barrage of rhetorical
questions, I shift uneasily and answer,
"Yes" or, sometimes, "No". I never know
what to say, but it's always the wrong
thing.
Frankly, I don't care. And yes, I would
live in a pig-pen, if nothing else were
available. And no, other men don't help
their wives keep the place decent. Not
decent men. And yes, I have eyes in my
head, two of them, one apt to be black after
this column appears. And no, I'm not
ashamed of our wreck room. I know who
wrecked it, and 1 love them just the same.
And if visitors don't like it, they can go and
visit someone else, with a real rec' room. It
is confusing, is it not?
However, I am an amenable chap. I
don't kick a dog, just because he bays at
the moon. I don't kick a woman, just
because she begins raving when the March
sun filters into the dugout where we've
spent the winter.
I merely blink benignly, start talking
supportively. Yes, we should have new
drapes. How much? Yes, we should have a
new chesterfield suite. How much? Yes,
it's time we got rid of that old dining-room
suite, which we bought second-hand for
$100. 20 years ago. How much for a new
one? Certainly, the rugs need cleaning and
the whole house redecorating. How much?
It always comes out to somewhere
around $8,000. I remind that we have to
borrow from the bank to pay the income
tax-. That we have two cars which we could
sell in a package deal, to an experienced
mechanic, for $400. That if we don't have
some brickwork done, the whole house will
fall down, and we'll be sitting there, in full
view, on our new chesterfield.
I suggest that she save money from
teaching her piano pupils, pay back the
$1,000 she has spent on long-distande
phone calls to her relatives, and take a job
as a cleaning lady for a year, and all will be
doozy. New everything.
She counters with arrows about the
booze bill, the cigarettes account, and all
the money I gamble away on lotteries.
I remind her gently that if she hadn't
spent a cool throusand on gold chains last
summer in Switzerland, we'd be in clover.
And so it goes.
After a week or two of this, we have
arrived at an impasse. The sun keeps
shining, something important, like the
children, crops up, and we sail happily into
a new year, with the wreck room in tact:
warm, comfortable, lived-in. Doesn't cost a
nickel. And you know something? Nobody
cares.
44' P WE CAN'T SAY IT TOO OFTEN! Tia.
YOU DO BETTER HERE DAY AFTER DAY
1.69 lb.
1.29 lb.
51bS./$6
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Sweet pickled
COTTAGE ROLLS
Fresh cut
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Fresh Homemade
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