The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Thursday, October 26, 2006

close encounters of the fourth kind

Met Mags Masefield marching up the hall of the old chateau.
Her arms were piled high with items of my clothing.
"I'm taking these James," she said. "I'll have them back to you in a week."
I thanked her more profusely than was strictly speaking dignified.
I've been having difficulty adjusting to the whole notion of a cleaning lady.
I don't want to be rude.
I don't want to condescend.
Somehow I'm managing to do and be both.
As she headed out the front door she called back: "I'd better keep these designer tee shirts away from my son Bart. He might be tempted to wear them."
Her words had a ring of death about them.
It was a somewhat rueful Heelers who rendezvoused in the kitchen with his Mammy moments later.
"What's wrong?" quoth the venerable Lil. "You look a bit shook."
The mighty Heelers released a long sigh.
"Little Bart Masefield is going to be wearing designer tee shirts for the next week," I said. "I'm just coming to terms with it."

3 Comments:

Blogger Chamki said...

HA HA HA
may be you should buy a bigger size for next week or give the shirt you got from your Aunt Marie as a Christmas present. That one is funny- its one of the cartoons

4:26 AM  
Blogger heelers said...

Chamki, whatever I do I've got to do SOMETHING!
J

1:58 AM  
Blogger Schneewittchen said...

If you ask me - which I realise you didn't - Goody Mags is outside of her purlieu, she's a cleaner not a washerwoman, she should leave yer T-shirts alone.

7:21 AM  

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