Greetins mi wonderful fans hall ova de wul, well ow hall of you is doin dese days?

Lawd, me know de pressha hof de economy haff hevrybady hup inna arms. Jus de odda day me go a Missa Chin Shoppe fe buy wan loaf a hard dough bred……Guess ow much im a sell de bred far?

 

A few hundred Jamaican dollas, me jus tell im fe ole on pon de bred. Hall now de junjo mussey a grow pon dat de bred. Can you himagine?

Poor Missa Chin cyan’t do no biznes unda dose high price conditions. Mi dere frens we are in de times hof Armageddon, we haffi pray, mawnin, noon an night.

Den fi mek mattas more rambunctious, Mrs. Bhoodrasingh no hopen wan new school right next door to mi yard. Yu eva see my dyin trial?

Now, Ms. Dulcie is writin ar memoirs, an de blinkin pickney dem mek so much naise me cyan heven cansantrate. Me did tink sey Ms. Bhoodrasingh School was far wayward children, but dem seem to be havin dem way wit Mrs. Bhoodrasingh an ar Staff.

 

De fus week dem ded de, De likkle rascal dem have loose leaf paper hall ova de fence dem go straight back to Mr. Chin Shoppe, de whole neighbahood was decorated wit looseleaf paper and crayon drawin. Den breeze blow wey de paper dem, all de neighbors had paper pon dem head, pon dem foot, hall over dem clothes and all ova dem lawn. But see here……Me juss kinely call de Corprol an im straighten hevryting out. Dat nevva stop dem dough. If dat wasn’t upsetting enough, dem tek chalk an mek wan big hop-scotch game out side a me front gate. Me use hevryting fe clear hoff dem markings but de big ole chalk markin is still dere.

De next week de hexchange student Galavi wey she have, decide sey him a go wata hevry bady gaarden.

 

Poor Ms. Bhoodrasingh haffi run outside from ar prayer time. De pickney wet hup all de passerby dem.

 

Wan oman who did have flowers pon ar hat get soak like a raincloak, de poor flowers dem look like dem get shell shock. Hall now she still a chastise Galavi bout im mischieviousness. Ms. Bhoodrasingh haffi tek ar phone hoff de hook cause dem neighbors was callin sey dem lawn gwey dry rot from too much wata.

A couple weeks ago me ketch dem inna de back yard playin treasure hunt.. De bwoy dem dig hup de hole yard a look fe treasure, de nex ting you know dem bust de pit pipe. Let’s just sey de place was stagnant far a few days well.

 

Dem ya Pinckney mussey get a holiday pass from de debil. Lawd! Dem taxing….

Dere is a cute tiny wan dere, dem call im Rashmeed, a tink sey im juss discova de telephone. One day him hask me fe mi numba, so me tink sey a Mrs. Bhoodrasingh hask im fe get it. Hevry couple minutes de phone ring, “Hi…It’s me….Rashmeed…What’s your name?”

So me ansa “Dulcimer!”

 

Each time him hang up and cyall back an hask de same question. Is eider im no like me name or im is training fe be a miniature serial stalka.

Hall a we neighbars is pon single bible leaf juice fi cyalm we nerves since dese half-pints moved in, dem mek Dennis de menace look like a choir boy. Well, me couldn’t tek hit no more, so me go to Mrs. Bhoodrasingh, me sey, “Dese children are lovely do eh, but you haffi have a lotta patience wid dem?”

Yu knoe wey Mrs. Bhoodrasingh sey?

 

“Mrs. Robothom these children are certainly testing my faith…..The school in Kingston that I run for girls was so much easier to get started. But times are so much different. The children are reacting to the times. At the rate these little ones are going they‘ll bankrupt the school.“

Mrs. Bhoodrasingh really sparked mi curiosity, ‘cause me wanted fi knoe wey dem parents iz.

You knoe wey she tell me?

“Ms. Dulcimer, although this is a school for the “wayward” these children are not from homes that lack any good thing. There parents have just given up the fight. They scoffed at old fashioned values and mores and gave into modernism and now there children are byproducts of the new age modernism.”

 

“Jesus, Christmas, Mary and Joseph! I could nevva believe dat parents could give hup pon dem pickney. Dem haf a ole Jamaican sayin, dat when you toe stink, you wrap it up and sprinkle it to smell sweet. Meanin sey hif yu pickney bad, a fi yu, so yu tek dem more inna de fold an keep showin dem de way till dem get it right.”

Mrs. Bhoodrasingh a worry sey de school a go bankrupt. Wen dem ya jezebel pickney finish, dere won’t be anymore Oracabessa , St. Mary or St. Elizabeth. Just a puddle a wata.

 

Since dem ya children move in Missa Fowler decide fi go pon wan loooong vacation. A tink dem get Missa Fowler bex wid dem antics, Wen im waz sleepin pon de verandah, wan a dem tie-up im shoe laces. Im halmost trip wen im wake-hup, iz a good ting de hassack was dere.

 

Heven de poor mail man frighten ova dem, me no see im far wan long time now. De odder day dem tek star light an put in im mail bag, thank God dat was de day Galavi was havin a waterin fest, cause de poor mail man would be in a fracas.

Hanyhow, dat’s why Ms. Dulcie nevva read no mail to uno dis time. But, I just wanted fi lek yu folks out dere knoe dat if you tink fi yu brood at home is bad, uno no knoe Mrs. Bhoodrasingh’s Crowd.

 

But haz usual Ms. Dulcie haff de cure far what ails dem. Ms Allowecious Hauntie, Prudence Pinkham did tell me sey wen pickney cyan’t keep quiet, ge dem two drops hof worm medicine. Dat will cool dem puddin nice ‘n’ easy. If nuttin helse dey will keep one room in de house very busy.

So, Ms. Dulcie have a nice present of Tyrax medicine far mi tiny frens.. If dis doughn’t cure dem, me gwey hinvite de Pope fi come to Jamaica fe hexcorcize de debil outta dem.

Tek cyare till next time.

Dulcimer Peaches Robothom