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by AineC
At sparra’ fart in dawn’s first hush,
She trudges through the sleet and slush,
With rollers held in under headscarf knot,
Bent into the gale, away she’ll trot.
Bakery-ward she makes her way
To fetch the blaas to start the day.
Then home she heads, with blaas still hot,
Boils the kettle, warms the pot.
To crawl from bed this family’s unable,
Till tay and blaas are on the table,
For a Deise breakfast is like no other,
A pot o’ tay with blaas and butther.
But fierce strong tay and blaas galore,
Soon will have them out the door,
Off to school or work or play,
While mammy stays at home all day,
(Except for when she does the messages,
Some rashers, eggs, and Denny’s sausages)
If time allows twixt shoppin’ and cookin’
She’ll call to see how HER mammy’s lookin’
Not far to go – just up the way,
A Deise family will rarely stray
To far from their mammy’s abode,
Sure they all live just up the road.
And after a chat and cup o’ tay,
Back home she heads – back down the way.
As evening falls and dusk draws in,
She’s in the kitchen once again.
Preparin’ for the evenin’ tay –
Those rashers ‘n eggs she bought that day.
Then later on, (if she don’t mind),
Himself will head out for a pint,
To th’ pub on the road that’s yellow, and upper,
And he’ll bring her home a puddin’ supper
From the chipper on the hill,
(‘Cos Elliot’s van would make her ill).
Next dawn again come sleet or snow,
Down to the bakery again she’ll go,
To fetch the family’s nourishment,
She’ll endure all kinds of punishment:
Chapped lips, corns, chilblains, frostbite
‘Cos this mammy’s a true blue Deiseite.,
Nowhere in this world I ramble,
Have I found a mammy who could hold a candle,
To mammies from the Deise side,
I speak of them with love and pride.
So yungwans and fellas, sisthers and budders,
Be tankful for your Deise mudders.