Hard Times For Pearlie

SATURDAY

I was footerin’ aboot ootside last Saturday dinnertime and I went to go back into the house and I caught my toe on that oul ramp and went down a rattle. I thocht Nelly or Hannah wud a seen me but they didnae but lucky enough the postman was in the yard and he came over to me and says, “Did ye fall dear?” Well I felt like saying back tae him. “No. I didnae. I’m just lyin’ here takin’ a bit of the sun,” but I didnae. It wasnae too bad. I banged my toe and scratched my knee and the worst thing aboot it all was I tore my tights and they were nearly new ones that Nessie had bought me for Christmas the year before last. So I just went on up to Lizzie’s anyway for I’d toul her I’d go up and gie her a han’ oot for she’s only after a cataract operation.

SUNDAY

The oul toe was as sore as anything and I couldnae get tights on nor a shoe neither so I just wore an oul sock of Stanley’s and harpled aboot the best I could. Tae tell the truth I wasnae much use to Lizzie a-tall. I cud only get aboot sideways but Lizzie made a quare laugh of it and called me Sidewinder.

MONDAY

I put on an appointment with the doctor and phoned Bertie tae bring me home for it for I was no use a-tall tae Lizzie. Harplin’ aboot on the stick was as tiring as a days work in the moss and there was a big blood blister on my toe had it twice the size. Bertie came and brocht me home. Of course with all the innin’ and ootin’ o’ the car Stanley’s sock was soaken so I asked Nelly to get me one of Bertie’s. There wasn’t a shoe aboot the place would have went on me so Nelly suggested I put a plastic bag roon me fut to keep it dry. Anyways the doctor lanced the oul blister but he toul us we’d have to go to the Casualty for an X-ray. It turns out the bone is cracked and I’m tae watch meself I don’t get an infection for Bertie says it could end up with me havin’ the fut off and that’s what comes of slipin’ aboot in his oul’ deck shoes.

TUESDAY

I didnae go to my club in Broughshane and I’ve Nelly and Bertie in and oot mekkin’ me tay and all. Nelly’s hopeless at cookin’. She’s always messing aboot with the food and she knows I only like plain food. Anyways she says she’s makin’ a roast dinner and she’ll be bringin’ me in some. I says all I want are two plain proota and a bit of butter but then Bertie lands in with chicken and carrots and roast proota as well as the boiled proota. I says to him, “Sure I said I only wanted proota,” and he says “Well give me it then and I’ll scrape the rest of it into the dog’s dish and just leave the potatoes,” but I toul him to let it be I might eat a bit of it. Then nixt thing he was in with rice puddin. Nelly destroys rice puddin. She puts raisins in it and cinnamon and cream! Everybody else goes on aboot how nice it is but I’d rather have plain rice done in a saucepan on top of the stove. I took it anyway.

WEDNESDAY

I’m a wee bit better the day. Nelly’s away to work. I don’t know who’s going to help me on with my corsets tomorrow. I couldnae get doon to the nurse to change my bandages for they were having a training day. A lot of oul nonsense. Ye’d think they’d all be well enough trained by now.

THURSDAY

I got my bandages lucked at the day. It was a day’s work getting’ in and oot of the car and no joke tryin’ to houl meself up with the stick in one hand and and tryin’ to houl the plastic bag on my fut with the other. I heared Nelly sayin’ to Bertie that I lucked like Anthony Chair playin’ Richard III but I didnae understand a word of her oul nonsense. By the time I got intae the hoose I was pounded. Nelly got me another sock for my fut. I’ll gie her this – that idea aboot cuttin’ the fut out of my tights to get them on was brave and good. I asked her to get me my apron and she says, “What d’ye want an apron for? Sure ye’ll be doin’ no work tonight.” And I says, “Och I need my apron. I’m coul without it,” and she starts to laugh and says she’ll be puttin’ that in her blog for sure. Half times I don’t know what she’s meannerin’ on aboot. She’s not near wise.

FRIDAY

I’m feelin’ much better today and have been able to get oot a bit more. I was able to go over to the bin myself. It wasn’t that I had any rubbidge to put in it but Bertie was over this mornin’ interferin’ in my kitchen and he’s threw oot my pasteboard collection, all my empty margarine tubs and my Sheba containers. He says, “I don’t know what you need to have all that crap sittin’ aboot and I can hardly move in that kitchen.” He says that if I was left to myself I’d be as bad as our Nessie who’s never threw away a loaf paper in her life. He’s a cheeky brat. I sent word over that I was able to get my own tay now and not tae bother. It took me ages to gather up those margarine tubs and the Sheba containers wud hae made great ashtrays. What odds if I don’t smoke. Ye'd never know the day somebody’d be in luckin an ashtray.