So I decided write about something,that always brings back happy memories……My aunt and uncle,which is her husband and she is the eldest sister,of my father.
Let me give you some background…….He was tall,like in tall and skinny,like in “all bones and no body”My father used to call him the “under cover soup-bone” or “split pin”His trousers was too big and if the wind blew slightly,you could see the lack of flesh …..not that he didn’t eat or have an eating disorder.No,he ate more than enough….that is,when he wasn’t too intoxicated and forget to eat. I’ve never ever seen my aunt cook anything.He was her second husband and she was spoiled with the first( late)husband already.He got up at four,every morning,to make her some food,for during the day and pack his lunch for work.When he get home,late afternoon,he’ll start supper and don’t think for one moment,that he just made a quick meal.No,he cooks rice and meat with potatoes and veggies and he made a mean baked pudding,with the tastiest custard ever.Don’t think,that her royal highness ever put her hand in water,to wash dishes or do the washing.He didn’t even allowed me,to help with washing up,after our supper,the few times I visited them,at their house.He washed up by himself and tomorrow,this routine repeats itself.He made the best bean soup ever(until my husband got the nack of it)
At some stage,he even saved his foreman’s life,at the plant they worked.It just so happened,that it was his Portuguese neighbor.This guy had a very large grape vine and made a home brewed concoction,that we in South Africa call “witblits/mampoer” I think it’s more or less,equal to the American effect of Moonshine….…. also illegal at that,back then,but my uncle never had a shortage of that bottled poison again….I never had the guts,to take a chance on even one tot,as I’ve already seen the damage done,to the regular users,by then.They suffer like mad,the following morning. They have a Biblically sinful thirst,that could unfortunately not be quenched by any liquid!Not that you you can’t drink fluids…..but it’s like Russian Roulette,except for the fact that this gun had one too many bullets!!!Should you dare to drink anything,you’d be just as intoxicated,as the moment you quit drinking,the previous night.It’s actually a little sad,too see the heroes of last night,suffer in silence…Another bad thing,was to have the same conversation,with the same heavily intoxicated people,the following day…..of course they do it sort of involuntarily.So,during one of my visits,to my favorite aunt and uncle’s home,it just so happened,that my nephew went camping,for the weekend and came back with a fish,my uncle would die for:catfish….My uncle was far taller than six feet and this fish,still alive,of course,was way longer than my uncles length.I don’t know if any of you know something about fishing,but let me tell you…a catfish is a fish,that consist of about just muscles.My uncle was in 7th Heaven and couldn’t wait to get this valuable meat in the freezer.Remember,these people drank every single night of their lives……What I’m trying to say,is that you have to envision this picture,playing off,in front of me….This overly tall,very skinny man,more or less in his midlife crises,with a big knife,trying to cut the neck,of this muscle machine,stretched out over the length of the small four seater melamine kitchen table…..high fashion back then..The next moment the table gave way and both fighters landed on the floor.Their was blood everywhere,but the fish wouldn’t give up.It was my uncle curling his arms and legs around the fish and the slippery fish gliding out of his grip…..leaving a bloody mess,as far as it wiggles…..My uncle was short of breath and getting tired,but the fish was still going strong…..please take in consideration,that the fish easily weighs more than my uncle….I have to add,that he wasn’t exactly using a butchers knife,when trying to slit this fish’s throat but rather one,I would suggest for a very tender cut of steak.At some stage,my uncle decided to call in a favor,from his neighbor,the moonlighter……I didn’t witness the end to this situation,but was told,that it lasted hours,after we left……..Never heard anything,about my uncle’s usual bragging,about his pride canned,pickled curried catfish ,as always…..and none of us ever saw evidence of the fight,that night…..in the freezer,or on the shelves,with his other canned stuff……nobody ever said anything and it was as if all of us just knew,to let this episode slide under the table…….