wash those dirty words out

Grama Scales came to visit Chilliwack in 1947 ...I was 9 years old...we lived in a big house on School Street..on a big lot with fruit trees of all kinds ... It had an upstairs and a basement that we could raft around in when it rained a lot....It was right where Shoppers Drug Mart is now...that whole area (Southgate) was a motel..a big spacious place.... lots of trees and individual units spaced far apart...with huge grassy area in the middle...and our lot was butted up against it...A really neat house ..2 small bedrooms upstairs and the funnest attic room ever...it was real attiky ..big unpainted room.... had a window...and an area in it like a stage or a small room within a room but the floor was 3 feet higher on that part...it was a mixed up fun room.... and we played in there a lot..Faye was 15 then ..and had a record player..a wind up..but it was portable like a little suitcase...Frank Sinatra was king then and she had lots of neat records...She taught me some how to dance and jive ...but mostly by watching her and her friends ...I thought those big teenagers were so cool...anyway...back to Grama...she was so really religious.....no movies ...no makeup..I didn't wear that anyway...but my sister didn't either when she was around...Mum stuck up for us when Grama Scales came down too hard...(A little tension in the air between mum and Grama Scales) ....one time I was on the sidewalk near the back porch riding my wagon..and I mumbled gawd dam about something.....how her ears picked that up...GARY SCALES....oh gees....Come UP here....This is what we do to little boys who take the Lords name in vain...whoa....and she put a bar of soap in my mouth..we'll just give it a good scrubbing and wash those dirty words out.....I looked up at her as I was getting worked over..wow... that's one scary lady ...when she was in full frown, her eyes were black and beady and her eyebrows slanted over them the mean pointy down way....foooey...gack...it is awful...yuck,..
ptooie, ptooie, I pulled my wagon to the front gate and looked back to see her still glaring at me....gawd if she didn't like to fish she would be hopeless.
Then I went across the street to Jack McDermids house and told him my tale of woe.