Mother Warton, were a little old lady, Who lived, out in 'sticks, up on t'ill, Survivin' on just widder's pension, Wi' barely enough fer 'er bills.
She lived there, with one of 'er daughters, As 'ad flitted the nest, then come back, But what they were lackin' in comfort, In make do an' mend, they'd a knack.
One Winter's mornin' near Christmas, Mother Warton were standin' at sink, Wi' wash basin full of 'ot watter, And bottles, devoid of their drink.
Wi' a blunt knife, she scraped off the labels, What 'ot watter, the glue were undoin', When Hobbo, breezed into 'er kitchen, And said,"Mum, what the 'eck are you doin'?"
"We've been to a meetin'," she tells 'im, "Up at the old village 'all, It's diff'rent bins fer paper an' bottles, They're not to be mixed up, at all."
"That in't what they mean," smiles our Hobbo, "Tha' dun't need to scrape off the labels." "We've been to a meetin'," insists she, And Hobbo could not turn the tables.
Come the next mornin', it's bin day, Hobbo, in jim-jams, well worn, Creeps down to 'end of 'er driveway, Waitin' fer 'bin men, at dawn.
They arrived, ten o'clock, bright an' early, A two man, go slow operation, And Hobbo, wi' teeth all a chatt'rin', Explained to the men, 'situation.
Some funny old looks he were given, Like a picnic, gone short of a pie, Till he told 'em 'is reasons for askin', Then, they laughed and they cottoned on why.
She did not 'ave to scrape off the labels, And this 'ad come straight from 'osses gob, So, wi' Hobbo now grateful ter 'bin men, He slipped 'em a couple of bob.
Hobbo goes in fer 'is breakfast, His slippers all wet from the slush, "Mum, I've got thee good news from the bin men," Says he, a big grin on 'is mush.
"Tha' dun't 'ave to scrape off the labels," He tells 'er by way of a greetin', "I've spoken ter 'bin men, as told me, Tha' must've got wires crossed at meetin'."
"What do they know?" responds Mother Warton, "We've been to a meetin'," she said, "It's their job mum," retorts Hobbo, laughin' But, he cun't get it out on 'er head.
Mother Warton huffs and folds t'arms, In that stubborn old lass type o' way, "Well, I'll still be scraping," she tells 'im, And she still does the same ter this day.
That is until, sadly, we lost 'er, Now she's scraping the labels up there, Because they went to a meetin' in Warton, And God would not cross 'er, wouldn't dare.
It’s gorgeous, Hobbo. A lovely observation of people, priorities, information gathering. And a lovely picture of Mrs Wharton and your respect for her, even in her refusl to accept your evidence. And, as ever, I think the Yorkshire brogue adds an extra dimension… something intangible. Perhaps because I can’t really do that … not honestly. I am not truly Occa and I feel elitist and awful if I try to pretend. I don’t know if that’s self consciousness or proper sensitivity.
I mean Aussie of the working class or possibly the outback. It’s things in like “Gidday maite, ‘owzit gawn,'”. I have tried to get the vowel sounds but it’s hard. It’s lovely sayings that we middle class don’t hear often. To me it’s the real deal. It’s dry humour and long tales and say it as it is.
Hobbo's Poems 
oh, gawd, you should have heard my reader 🤣
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😂😂 Sorry about that!
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No worries 🙂
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😂
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It’s gorgeous, Hobbo. A lovely observation of people, priorities, information gathering. And a lovely picture of Mrs Wharton and your respect for her, even in her refusl to accept your evidence. And, as ever, I think the Yorkshire brogue adds an extra dimension… something intangible. Perhaps because I can’t really do that … not honestly. I am not truly Occa and I feel elitist and awful if I try to pretend. I don’t know if that’s self consciousness or proper sensitivity.
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Occa? I googled it and got Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics, but you don’t mean that, do you?
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I mean Aussie of the working class or possibly the outback. It’s things in like “Gidday maite, ‘owzit gawn,'”. I have tried to get the vowel sounds but it’s hard. It’s lovely sayings that we middle class don’t hear often. To me it’s the real deal. It’s dry humour and long tales and say it as it is.
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Gottya! And thank you for your kind comments. 😊
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Comments from the heart, Hobbo. 😊
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💖
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An epic tale Hobbo!
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😂…and true!
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What a treat of a read to enjoy with my afternoon tea!! 🥰
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Thank you Misky. Help yourself to a choccie biscuit too! 😊
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Oh, yes please. Thank you. 😋
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👍 You are very welcome!
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Love it! 😀
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Thankee! 😊
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Really great work, funny and warm.
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Thank you Ulle! She was a lovely lady, used to make me laugh a lot.😊
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