Some squeaks inside a cupboard late last night
Informed me there was something not quite right:
One of these glory-holes in passage, right up high,
That takes tall stools to reach, or in to spy.
This morning I took courage in both hands
And also lots of junk, one understands!
What I found there you do not want to know –
Some things were put there thirty years ago!
There was a hole in ceiling, and so that’s
What gave the entree to the rotten rats,
Who had evacuated with great speed
Directly they’d observed I’d taken heed.
What I removed you scarcely would believe –
That such small space so much stuff can receive;
The junk was spread across the passage floor,
And still there came out ever more and more.
Most of those contents then got promptly binned,
A pity, but then with neglect we’ve sinned;
One shouldn’t think that doors and walls suffice
To keep out all the wretched rats and mice.
I also found, with sorrow and with woe,
That this was where the roaches like to go,
They scuttled off with most reproachful looks
Into all types of crannies, and some nooks.
So if you’ve also stuck some stuff away
In hopes it may be useful one fine day,
Be sure to check it fairly frequently
Lest such sad scenes you also chance to see!
One of the things to come out of the depths of this cupboard was a magazine dated 1943, full of fascinating wartime stuff. Some of the ads are a hoot. Although women were in uniform (acknowledged by the cover) the content is still very much slanted towards ‘master of the house’ and the ‘little woman’ who must not ‘wear the pants’ – even if she is, both literally and figuratively!
‘Guarding the Flock’ below really brings one close to the mood of the times.
© June 2012 Colonialist (WordPress)