Bellowing

About 35 years ago I became a little obsessed with the brass and copper geegaws which my Aunty Iris & Uncle Charles had in their home in deepest Buckinghamshire.

Alongside the polished metal circular mirror (a popular thing in the 70s, remember?!) stood a brass and leather bellows. I've no idea why it so intrigued me but I'd pump the bellows for all I was worth, enjoying the wheezy noise it made, sometimes out-puffing my own asthmatic rasping, a sort of duelling lungs affair maybe (banjos being a bit thin on the ground!).

When Aunty Iris died she left the bellows to me, and everywhere I've lived they've travelled with me, getting more cracked and tarnished as the years pass by (the bellows and me!)

Today they sit on my garden room wall, gleaming in the evening sunlight, bringing back happy memories.