Magpie Tale #15
This is a prompt from a weekly writing theme hosted by Willow over at: http://magpietales.blogspot.com
This Magpie prompt
immediately brought childhood memories to mind.
When I was very young, about seven, my sisters , brother and I along with Dad spent some time living with my Dida (Grandfather).
My parents had separated and we had moved cities and stayed with him until we found a house.
Dida was from Croatia, a hard worker, strict disciplinarian, loved his garden and in his defence found it difficult to cope with suddenly having four children living with him.
As there was no female in the house he did the cooking, and you ate what was put in front of you no questions asked.
Keeping this in mind here is my prompt:
Friday is here and I know what we are having for dinner, Friday night is always fish. But what will it be?
Is it Snapper, Gurnard or Flounder? Will it be pan-fried in Olive Oil (yum...), steamed, or will it be, please don't let it be...
Soup... Oh no... it is soup.! I can smell it as I walk into the house. That pungent fishy smell, it's everywhere. There is no getting away from it. I creep past the kitchen, I know that Dida is in there, please, please, don't let him see me walk inside. His back is facing the door, I tiptoe past, but it's too late. He turns around, "There you are, come, come and see what we have for tonight," he beckons me over. I walk slowly over, smiling weakly knowing full-well what is about to happen next. He lifts me up, takes the lid off the pot and there it is. Lying on it's side, a huge Snapper head, with that big glassy eye looking up at ME!
Hours later we are all sitting around the table. The plate of soup in front of me, I pick up my spoon, dip it in the soup and look over at Dida. He has the fish head in front of him, he picks it up, using his fingers and sucks on what is left of the head. Feeling the tears building up behind my eyes, I close them tight as I make a start on my soup, and try ever so hard not to start gagging.
13 comments:
I'm so sorry!! Your story makes me feel bad for making Emma gag her way through salad and vegetables. :O(
You've captured that childhood feeling. Nicely written. (Enjoyed reading about your Dida, too.)
Writing with a solid impact. Congratulations.
A most vivid Magpie ... I felt your dread and pain as I read your words. Great job!
Wow! For an American, that would not be easy to digest, let alone an American child!
Good job getting that fear and panic in the story.
Your excellent story brought back the not so fond memories of my mother cooking liver...well done..
no pun intended ~;-)
Ick!! Okay, you get the prize for the fishiest fish memory. Super read, Angela.
Wow, what an image, eating the fish head is something I've never seen but now I think I know what it would be like!
Great writing!
We don't realise what we put children through at times! I remember being forced to kiss a particularly old and bristly relation. Ugh! And then I wonder why I don't like beards!
fun tale.
I simply marvel at people, such as you who took prompt and make it through early...
Happy Monday!
ha. growing up in a house where you ate waht was put in fron t of you i feel your paint...the sucking on the fish head was vivid. nice magpie!
My dad used to insist on keeping the fish heads ON when my gran (his mum-in-law) was visiting....!
You must have had great courage and guts as a kiddie...!
Love your childhood story :)I will visit again!
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