Heritage – Part 1

Heritage Part 1

I was introducing a friend last night to the best thing about roasted vegies (if I tell you I have to kill you) and it led me to tell her the difference between my mum’s family heritage and my fathers. So, the basics were when I was growing up, we on a rare occasion we went to my grandparents’ house for dinner and we had a roast. Pork crackling yummy goodness, my older sister and I would sit at the ‘kids table’ (I know, doesn’t happen now, does it?) We would sniff around the kitchen and offer to help and beg for Pork crackling. “If you eat it all now, there will be none to go with dinner” like we cared.

My mum’s side seemed very English with a Sunday roast for lunch or dinner. In complete contrast, the Italian side of my family was Sunday Lasagne. So, at home our Sunday roast was Lasagne and it would last for days. Garfield would be proud.

So, also in contrast to Nona’s, we would be served generous portions of spaghetti and Nona would be at the kitchen sink doing the dishes and not sitting with us. Mum would tell her to sit and join us, while my father and grandfather spoke Italian. Nona would ay to start without her. Mum would nudge her husband to tell Nona to join us and then, he would jut tell my mum to let her go. Mum would then look to me to go get Nona to sit and join us. She would be washing the big pot by this stage and shoo me away.

Isn’t it interesting how times and culture has changed?

 

Letters

Letters

On an occasion I require someone I trust to read a document or letter, I can’t, I think you all realise I’m not an idiot, this is not why I need someone to help me in this way. Reading anything longer than part of a recipe has the ability to give me a migraine and somethings are just not in simple English.

Recently, I entrusted a carer to read a letter attached to a Visa statement. Because I don’t have regular scheduled visits from my mum (the only member of the Team Helen) and the time I’m lucky to get from busy friends we spend on more of the ‘fun things’ I asked a carer to read the letter attached to the Visa Statement.

Firstly, I suggested for her to not look at the actual statement, I reassured her I didn’t have a ridiculously high limit on my card and I had a low interest rate. We had previously discussed what it cost me every month in interest charges and when I stated how low they were, I had to mention how little an interest rate you can get, if you are prepared to change cards (my previous account I could quote the digits without looking at the card). Sadly, it went as well as the 18% interest rate for something more affordable.

I digress, she started to look at it and ask if I wanted her to read it to me? I told her no and paraphrasing it to me would be fine. I really wanted to know the dot points, if I don’t pay the full balance by tomorrow, will they kill my whole family. Because I’ve had it sitting on my desk for weeks. A month has passed and the family is all still with us and so is my Visa and the next statement has arrived, more damn reading.

This time I did take a look to see again if I didn’t have to pay the whole balance by tomorrow or my whole family would be killed.

No such luck, that it was that simple. It even mentions “clauses” from the previous letter.

Banks have a lot to answer for.

FFS!

Simple English People.