The inns and outs of Potch

So I was raised in a good Christian household, we got to church late every Sunday but still on time for my old man to slip his 10 percent in a crisp white envelope onto the old wooden bowl that got passed around just before we prayed for forgiveness and prosperity to all, oh and the poor suckers on the border.

We'd go home, the pastor and his wife would come by with an old cardboard box loaded with our next week's necessities of brown bread, cheese, tinned food and odds and ends to get us by for the next week, yea times were tough. 

So my Mum and Dad fought like hell, my Dad beat my brothers to a pulp weekly until they bled from the mouth, I got called to the office because I looked malnourished with scabs on my body, but generally it was quite peachy.

Or so I thought, My oldest brother then got shipped off to the air force for 2 years conscript, my Dad moved out, my other older brother found a nice girl in town to move in with, Mum and I got left on the farm with no electricity and I nearly burnt the house down that winter trying to make a iboula in the dining room, I know bad idea right but it was cold.

Anyways, Mum left my Dad for one of the local farmers cousins, my older brother married the nice girl from town, my father married her mother, my oldest brother died in the Air Force and I got shipped off to boarding school for five years. Last but not least my little brother got raised by my now alcoholic mother and is living happily with his boyfriend.

You're waiting for the silver lining right?

There is one, I'm married to a wonderful woman, I have an amazing son in a private school who's top of his class and I'm sipping on my drink at the foot of the Mariepskop mountain listening to these damn frogs croaking all night. How bad is that?