What in the heck is a Busha you may ask? They all died off about forty years ago, in America, never to return, and what a tragedy it is. In simple terms, she was a grandmother. Now let's examine her more closely. To be a true Busha, you must be in your eighty's, short and slim, and hunched over. A cane or walking stick are mandatory, for they served a thousand purposes, and were not an aid for walking, for they could walk miles on end without tiring.
One look at them, and you were afraid a slight breeze would blow them over, yet they had the strength of ten men, as they moved the heaviest of furniture as if they were match sticks.
You had to wear ankle length dresses, of plain material and they all seemed to shop at the same store.
They were simple farm girls, with little or no formal education, but would astound scholars with their wisdom. They were all quite beautiful in their youth, and still are, tho the lines in their faces have a thousand stories to tell, they did not care for the creams that might restore some of their youth full look to their faces.
They could cure whatever ailed you, sometimes a simple hug or kiss, but for the more serious ailments, their special herbs and concoctions only heaven knows what of, always worked better then any medicine prescribed by doctors.
Chef's can only dream of cooking as well as a Busha. No recipes, a hand full of this, a pinch of that. They could cook for one or a hundred and it was always a feast..
You could always tell which house the Bushas lived in, for they always had flowers blooming and a garden, no matter how big or small was like the horn of plenty, always enough to give some to the neighbors.
If you had a problem, Busha always had a simple solution.. And let's not forget the hair in a bun, a true sign of a Busha.
(To be continued)
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