Marjorie Parkinson

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Eirojram (ee-roje-er-am) Nosnikrap (nose-knee-crap) is what my dad would call her.

Simply put, it’s the backward spelling of my late grandmother.

Stronger and smarter than most; Marge could finish a crossword before the coffee was done.

I never got to meet her and for that I am sad, but this I do know, she raised a good son.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “It’s the weekend, so I’d thought we might go with something short and just a bit (or a lot) silly – the Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name.”

I wouldn’t call my quatrain humorous, but the backward spelling/speak is funny. My dad told me that he went through a phase as a kid where he spoke everything backwards, and his favorite thing to say was his mother’s name. I remember belly-laughing so hard I got the hiccups as he pronounced all the words and names he knew backwards. I tried to provide a pronunciation key in the parentheses, but the characters are limited (e.g. the o sound in “roje” is the long o sound, but I couldn’t find an o with a line over it, so I added the awkward e after it to show the long sound as in rope).

Thanks for reading!

7 thoughts on “Marjorie Parkinson

  1. Ah, I wish you could have met her! She sounds like she was a hoot! I have a few of my long gone relatives that I wish I had either met or spent the time to get to know. I, like you, now have to settle for second hand tales of their greatness. Thanks for sharing this!

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    1. Thanks for reading and commenting! I too wish I could have met her. My dad is a strong man, who doesn’t always know how to express himself, but whenever he speaks of his mother, his dark green eyes boyishly twinkle with reverence and regret. He loved his mother, as all good sons do. There’s so much more to the story that his eyes reveal, but he keeps those words locked up behind his teeth. One day, I hope to hear all about it, but I’ll settle for the parts he’s willing to say…I feel a poem coming on ☺

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  2. Love this Jaime- and grandma Marge. She was something else…I always loved being around her and the rest of the Stroms because they were always loud and funny! She lived with me for awhile before they put her in a convalescent home- don’t know if you knew that.

    I had lunch with Dad on Saturday (April 25th) and we spoke about Marge and her working at Savon and how she had to go to school to visit with Dad’s English teacher about how smart he was and how good he did on tests, but how frustrating he was when he wouldn’t apply himself! I asked him if he got slapped upside the head when they left ~ he laughed and said he probably did.

    Kind of weird that I see this post after we were just talking about her

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    1. Thanks Shelley, I didn’t know that she lived with you. I LOVED the holidays when Uncle John, Uncle Gary, and dad would tell their CRAZY stories about their youth! Man, I really want dad to tell me more, so I can write a book about his life. I talked to dad later on Saturday after I wrote the poem because it made me think of him. I opened the conversation with “how do you spell your mom’s name with an ‘ie’ or a ‘y’.” He said ‘ie’ and then he said her name backwards! 🙂 hehe! He didn’t even know that I had written the poem about her yet! I sent him the link. He told me he saw you guys for lunch after the game. I wish I lived closer! Love you! ❤

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  3. I know, wish you lived closer too! You need to write that book- it would be awesome (you are such a gifted writer). I imagine it would be something a little like The Glass Castle…did you ever read that book? I am sure their life was nothing like that…but the tone of the book. So good.

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