Grandparents - What makes you smile??

[Su]

What lovely stories.

I hope I'm remembered fondly by my grand daughter.
She's Nineteen now, and a lovely young woman, at University with a promising future ahead as a Forensic Scientist and Criminologist.  She has a fine young man, who I have been whispered to, is saving up to buy her a ring.

She was adopted at 3 months, and was such a tiny dot, I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.

I played with her for hours on end, nursed her, knitted dolly's clothes for her dolly, read to her and sang nursery rhymes for hours on end.  I have lovely tapes which I recorded from the first time she could speak, and we played them one day whilst I was teaching her needlework.  Listening to her squeeky voice singing twinkle twinkle little star, made me wonder where all those years have gone.

I've taught her baking, knitting, cross stitch, machine embroidery and gold work (for which she got double A star and top marks in her A levels).

She loves being cuddled to this day thank goodness, and never leaves or finishes a phone call without a 'Love you Grandma'.

When I'm over in Cheshire looking after my own Mother, she never fails to ring to ask how Mum and I are.

When I was moaning about my weight one day and saying I must go on a diet, she put her arms round me and cuddled me and said...don't do that, cuddley Grandma's come with the job description.

I'm extremely proud of her, and love her to bits, and feel so privilaged that she was chosen to be my special grand daughter.

Su

[Tephra]

I've just been catching up with all the wonderful memories, laughing and crying, ooohing and aaahing and remembering some of the same things happening with our family.   Do please tell us your memories, they're great.

I remember 'blacking' the hob for my Granny one day and ending up with more black on me than on the fireplace.  Grandpa sitting there laughing his head off as Granny tried to clean me up before Mum came to pick me up.  He got me to taste his Tripe and Onions one day telling me it tasted like chicken . ... .  YUCK, it was horrible .. .  but I'd share his Black Puddin' with him anytime     

I also remember getting a wallop from Grandpa for breaking one of his prize canary eggs .. .. My bottom smarts just thinking about it - well, I shouldn't have been in the aviary at all should I!!

One of my jobs was to collect their bread after school and take it up for them all wrapped in tissue paper, I loved the crispy bits off the top and it would always arrive 'bald'


Granddad was a master carpenter and his shed was full of wood in all shapes and sizes with his latest project against the wall with all his other 'latest' projects.  The floor was always covered in 12 inches of shavings and I would put some in my pocket and carry them round with me for as long as I could get away with it . .. . I loved the smell of the shavings and still do.   He once made a sideboard in the front parlour which was so big and so ornate it had to be sold with the house, nobody could get it through the door!!  Oooh, it was gorgeous but a b*gg*er to clean with all the carved bits on it.

Nanna had been a singer in her younger days and had a beautiful soprano voice, she and I would dress up in all her stage costumes with huge hats and feather boas, strings of pearls wrapped 10 times round the neck and long dangly earings .. . bliss!!   We'd then prance around the house singing to all the stage shows . ..  welllllll, she would sing and I would croak, but she never said anything about my croaking just . .. . . . ..  "From here, Barbara - send it out from here"  with a prod in the solar plexus.  It didn't do any good, I still can't sing!!

Ah, memories

Barbara

[PaulaToo]

Not grandparents, but excuse me while I skip off to the side a bit.
Barbara, you mentioned the smell of the wood shavings. That put me in mind of the ironmongers near home when I was little. It was during the war and very old fashioned. They used to put fresh wood shavings on the floor and the smell was heavenly.
Then again, when I go into cycle shops and the like, the smell of the rubber and oil always brings back happy thoughts of my faher's cycle repair shop where I spent many happy hours (getting dirty.)

[Su]

Lovely smells...I love wood shavings as well.

I can still smell the Smithy and feel the heat from the hot coals.  The place was littered with old horse shoes and bits of metal shavings, and of course, vices and big anvils.  As well as shoeing horses, grandad used to make beautiful jewellry, and Dad always wore a gold ring with rubies in it that Grandad made.

My Dad was a Farrier in the Cheshire Yeomanry during the war, so learned his work from Grandad.

When Grandad retired, he gave Dad his big anvil, and Dad used to repair our shoes on it.  We still have his very old vice attached to our workbench.

Grandad used to tell funny stories about his work at the Smithy.  He used to shoe huge Cart horses for the local farmers.  One day he was busy shoeing one with his back to it, when it 'dropped its load' on him.

Another one turned round and bit his bum, and one stamped on his foot.

When I go over to Cheshire, I visit the grave where Grandad, Granny and Dad are buried, then go over to the Smithy and take it all in, and remember Grandad in his leather apron, hammering away on the anvil.

Su

[Elliebob]

This is all so lovely.  i am on my own at work, having my lunch and wiping away a tear.

I only remember one grandparent. Nanny Court on your left.  She lived in Stratford on Avon and it was always an adventure to go there.  She had no electricity, only gas lamps downstairs - you had to take a candle to bed.  There was a cold tap in the kitchen and the toilet was at the end of the garden.  she kept a variety of macs behind the kitchen door in case it was raining when you paid a visit down the garden!
I remember having to sleep on a camp bed in her room as my parents had the second bedroom when we stayed.  One time I was learning to knit and thought that I would never get the hang of it.
She lived near the Trinity Church and each morning at 8 o'clock they played a hymn tune on the carillon.  She used to take me "sticking" across the Seven Meadows with her friend.  We were never sure of her friend's exact name - it was either Else Tollery or El Stollery (anybody claim her?).
This is, as far as I know, the only picture of me with her.  I am the baby and the older child is my cousin.  We were her only grandchildren.

Keep the memories coming I am so enjoying them.

Ellen

[Elliebob]

Not sure what happened to my photo - try again
Ellen

[Mobo]

I've just been catching up with all the wonderful memories, laughing and crying, ooohing and aaahing and remembering some of the same things happening with our family.   Do please tell us your memories, they're great. .....Barbara

Me too Barbara !.....  And Sue, I'm sure your grand-daughter will always remember you with much love - I only have one grandson, who'll be twenty this year.  The last time I saw him he was two, after which my son and partner split-up and there's been no contact ever since.  All those missed years for making  lovely memories.... ah me! ...  seems to be the way of society these days.

I remember when I lived with my Mum's mum, whenever she took me along to visit her elderly lady friends, I was always made to stand in the middle of the room and sing "You Are My Sunshine", after which I was rewarded with some goody or other, and even to this day, whenever I taste Victoria Sponge, the smell and taste of those times come flooding back.

I also remember a time when I took to looking in the mirror on the ornate sideboard to pull silly faces.  Anyway, one day she caught me and scolded "You'll see the devil in there one day Lady!". I was absolutely terrified and never walked past it again, instead I would crouch down and run past it quickly.  I  really believed her !!

Another memory I have is once, when staying with Dad's mum I fell  on the patio cutting my knee.  Feeling very sorry for myself,  I ran in screaming and crying and gran, without batting an eyelid, marched me back to the patio and pointed to the flags with cracks in. "Never mind your knee, just look what you've done to my flags!"  (ha ha ha)... I never acted like a baby again... having said that, I did get a glass of Dandylion & Burdoch afterwards.

Happy memories

 

[Su]

It's very sad Mobo, when grandparents don't get to see their grandchildren because of breakups.  I feel for you.  Not only have you missed out on watching him grow up, but he's missed out the most by not having his Grandma and Grandpa to lavish love and affection on him.

Your grandmothers both seemed great women in their own way.  Both had different sets of values and ways of doing things that have left you with lots of happy (and scarey) memories.

Dandylion & Burdoch and Tizer.....oooh! what memories they conjure up 

love
Su

[wheeldon]

One of my Granddads died when I was two - but I still had two Granddads.

Granddad and Great Uncle Fred.

Grt Uncle Fred (not blood related) had no children of his own so treated me and my brother as his Granchildren.

Grandad would collect us from school on a Tuesday and Uncle Fred on a Thursday.  They were fiercely in competition with each other.

On the way home from school, each of them would have us sit on the steps of the betting shop and wait for 10 mins whilst they placed a bet.  When they came out both would say

"Don't tell your Grandad/Uncle Fred about this and I'll buy you extra sweets"

Me and Stu never said a word, as we loved the extra sweets 

I only told my Mum a couple of months ago (30 years on) - she was mortified