Not really, but whatever you do don’t scratch it.
Thinking of you RJ and wishing you all the best.
We were talking in the pub today about insanity and does it really run in families as everyone believed years ago, I have no shame in admitting that a first cousin of mine spent his entire adult life in a mental institution, nut houses as they were called by most folks around here.
My relation was 22, in good health, a fine looking man, had a decent job and a girlfriend, things were looking up, but suddenly his jet black hair went grey, almost overnight, for some reason nobody could explain, then it started to fall out in clumps until it was all gone, the result was that he wouldn’t leave the house, his whole personality changed and he became a recluse, after a few attempts at suicide he was taken to a mental institution and after spending many years living there he became institutionalised, he was happy there and there he stayed until his death a few years ago, God rest his soul.
We waffled on to other things, someone said it was terrible to refer to mental hospitals as nut houses, I agreed, but back then it didn’t upset anyone, actually there were worse names for those places than nut houses.
A nut house can be a happy place for some, for example there were a lot of girls who worked in the confectionary factory in town (including my own missus) and they would be shifted around the factory to different departments, when they were busy making the bars of whole nut a lot of girls were needed in the nut house, Phyllis would smile as she left for work on her bike “Mother I’ll be late home all this week, I’m in the nut house again”
Same with the fella’s when they were on the sauce, or in the jam house, the onion house, and I believe the worst job of all was in the jelly house, if you knew what went into that you’d never eat jelly again. Those in the biscuit department were permanent so they usually went crackers after a few years, but they all had a good laugh about it, what else can you do, cry?;-)