My Gran passed away a couple of years ago. She's been on my mind recently as she would have celebrated her birthday this week.
I used to spend my summer holidays with my Grandparents when I was a girl. I was quiet and shy when I was younger. Don't laugh, it's quite true. I would rather stay inside and read than go outside and play with my friends. Must be making up for it now, hehe!
Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent, as I do. I loved staying with my Gran;her house was like an oasis, somewhere I could go to escape from the real world for a while. Mum would drop me off on her way to work and I'd run inside.
The first thing that would hit me when I opened the door, was the wonderful aroma of bread baking *drools*, often followed by a large dog licking my face (not so appealing). It's hard to explain how I felt when I was there. My Gran treated me like her little princess, I always felt happy, loved and safe when we were together. She would tell me wonderful stories about her life and I'd laugh until the tears ran down my cheeks.
We would spend our days walking the dogs, baking, working in the laundrette (not sure how much help I was there), visiting the library, reading, going to the market, and doing puzzles. Hmmm, funnily enough those are some of my favourite things to do...except the baking and laundry. I definitely missed out on the baking gene which the rest of my family have.
Gran's house was always full of cats and dogs. Stray dogs would often follow
us home and we'd look after them until we could find a new home for them. I can remember her having as many as four cats and three dogs at one time - KB HEAVEN!
Sometimes I think I get my blondness from Gran and I don't mean the colour of my hair. I remember when I was about ten years old, Gran wanted me to have my picture taken with a pony. I love animals but this little horse looked a bit feisty to me. I told Gran I wasn't keen on standing next to it. She told me I was being silly and the pony was totally harmless. She proceeded to climb over the fence and stand next to the 'harmless' pony. The pony took one look at her and kicked her up the arse. I can still see the expression on Gran's face. Priceless! Does that sound like something that would happen to me or what? LMAO!
I was lucky enough to spend six weeks with her the year before she died. One day, she took me aside and removed a small note book from her bedside table. It was tattered and torn and obviously well used. I was delighted when I discovered what was inside. There were pages and pages of favourite quotes, poems and stories she had written. She used it to write down thoughts when she couldn't sleep at night.
When I told her I did exactly the same thing, she grinned from ear to ear. All those years I thought I was the only person in the family who was interesting in such things. I should have know it was something I had in common with Gran. We are similar in so many ways.
I miss her very much and love her dearly. If I turn out to be even half the woman she was...I'll be happy.
Love ya Gran
From your little princess
xxxxxxx
