Sunday 17 January 2010

The good old days

May stretched out her aching legs and scratched absently at the new dressing the nurse had applied that morning. She threw off the blanket on her legs, it being far too hot with the central heating going full blast. "Shall we watch a bit of TV before meals on wheels come?" she asked Sid. Her husband picked up the remote for the flatscreen their Simon had bought for their diamond anniversary and flicked through the channels. The cat chased cake crumbs disturbed by Sid's movement, stopping only momentarily to watch some birds fly across the screen of a nature programme. The channels flicked past in rapid succession and they rejected antiques, soap operas, quiz shows, gardening, horse racing, football, golf, talk shows and card making (though May was rather keener on watching that than Sid). Finally they settled on an old black and white movie set in World War II.

As the bombs dropped on Mrs Minerva, and her family shivered in the air raid shelters before heading home to powdered eggs, May and Sid relaxed into their matching electric riser chairs and watched with contentment. "I miss the good old days" May voiced for the pair of them as Greer Garson confronted a downed Nazi paratrooper in her kitchen.

"Aye" agreed Sid as he answered the door to the young 'un who brought round their dinner every evening and smelt the appetising aroma of lamb hotpot. "Things was good then..."

A Sunday Scribble on the theme of: the good old days.

5 comments:

  1. 'The good old days' were like the Curate's Egg! Good in parts. A good 'take'.

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  2. Nice tale. I think the problem nowadays is things change too fast - we notice the changes more.

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  3. That is funny. We always love the "good old days" but forget the bad things. Nice writing

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  4. Nostalgia is such a fickle fool. You have illustrated the point beautifully.

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Thank you for your comments - I always love to hear what you think :)

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