When Godfrey was very young, back home in Wales, he believed everything his sister Alice told him, most usually dreadful tall tales. She was six years older, and her joy in life was tormenting Godfrey. She told him had not been born at all, but bought at a charity shop. She cooked what few toys he had in the oven, put chocolate pudding on his high-chair seat. Alice was delighted when she learned, that little Godfrey so disliked the beet.
There was no escape from beets that day on for Godfrey. It did not help that his frugal Ma, had eaten them every day cooked every way as a girl in the war. as did his mean Uncle Lou. His Grandma did to, so they spent happy days together, baking, singing, dancing and oft behaving badly. Grandma told Godfrey,”Beets were used by Trolls as money”. Alice assured him this was true, told the two of us troll treasure was buried, neath the stone wall out beyond Mulgrew’s outdoor Loo.
Troll treasure in the form of beets , dug from the frozen ground, imagining the horses and castles we would buy!! but rotten, nasty beets are all we found.On his first day of school he was pelted with beets, spent days soaking wet from being thrown in the creek, force fed beets when Tenbrooks Smythe The Third pinned him down, got beets in his stocking from Alice when Christmas rolled around.
“I disliked Beets”, he wrote in his book of Wisdoms ..written those last days at home neath the apple trees, but with them I have at last made my peace. Here is his last school essay, preserved by Arthur Bosomsworth, his head teacher, who deemed it “Too dreadful to give a grade”
The Horror of Beets, by Godfrey- Oh bulbous root so steeped in dirt. I on me bare the scars. And memory of the way you tasted, the dread, the pain, the indelible stain. The beet pulp sticky in my hair , bruises from being thumped by you. Road killed Kinkajou, the iggily bits below the Ram . A more appealing taste treat than you.
Fig seeds too big, stick in your teeth to spit bad tasting jam. My long term goal is to roam the whirled and have fun, and I will talk to anyone, about any thing except beets. My essay from Godfrey.