Gypsy Traditions Dying

I had plenty of time on my hands today. Plenty of time is either extremely good, or extremely bad, depending on how much money you have in your pocket. If only I had as much money as I had time, what a rich man I would be.

I pulled out some photographs of my family. There aren't many, for a variety of reasons. The ones I do have I treasure with care, keeping them in a felt lined box up on the shelf.

I speak of my dear, sweet mother often, because I will catch a whiff of her familiar scent at times when no one is around. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I know better.

One of my photographs is of an aunt that died more than 30 years ago. Back then, gypsy women took pride in their appearance, and did not show much skin unless it was to their husbands. The women cooked and cleaned, and raised more children than they ever gave birth to. You didn't see proper gypsy women wearing anything but long skirts, because they were forbidden to show their legs.

Although many of the full blooded gypsy women today are much smarter than the women I knew when I was little, I still miss the old days when being a proper gypsy woman meant something.  Don't get me wrong, I am sure there are many proper gypsy women out there right now. I am just an old kuver, sitting all alone, remembering the good ol' days.