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Reminiscing.................

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Mamyalynne | 12:20 Fri 25th Nov 2011 | ChatterBank
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I appreciate that some younger Abers may still have Grandparents in their lives, but like some of the more long(ish) in the tooth brigade - I haven't. Last night determined to start to get a handle on Christmas, I began to go through boxes of delights to see what I had stored throughout the year as gifts for my 4 Grandchildren.

That set my mind wandering back and I marvelled at the striking differences between the two sets of Grandparents - on my fathers side, they were very Victorian in their ways, the house was like a time capsule, chenille table cover, salt in a wee crystal bowl (sugar too with a beaded lace cover), the kitchen had a shallow slop stone unlike any ordinary sink I had seen out side a museum. We visited lots, which entailed sitting quietly and not interrupting - we only slept over rarely but the magic of toasty pyjamas from the warming cupboard in the blackleaded range is a fond memory, as is having to climb on a stool to get into the bed that was SO high you felt you were mountain climbing.
Grandma was very much a typical (in a nursery rhyme way) Granny, steel grey hair up in a bun, Grandad always wore a jacket and spoke little, kindness exuded but in an unspoken way.

My maternal Gran (Grandad died before I knew him) was the polar opposite- a bundle of fun and keen to play and make merry, time with her was a hoot and as soon as anything new came out she was keen to save and get it, she dressed in bright colours had her hair permed and ears pierced LOL Her tiny mill workers cottage in a row of ten (with 5 outdoor loos between them - story for later maybe) was never empty and she threw great parties , one game involved all the invited bringing bags of old clothes , the lights would be put out and all the ensemble had to grab and dress in what they could until the music stopped and lights came back on -the sight of an elderly uncle dressed in a grass skirt and a Playtex corset would send us kids into fits of laughter, we were never sent to bed - a party was for all- drink was of course consumed and the room so packed that one night Aunty Dolly was so queasy and could not make her way through the throngs to offload the upright piano got it !! Never sounded quite the same again.

I suppose what I mean is that as different as these lovely people were I have such fond memories of all , so as Friday is good for a chat maybe you would like to share some fun stories too?

I am in Grandma mode today as my youngest is coming to visit - 11 months old and a very busy boy, better get my gran hat on!!
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I don't have any living Grandparents. Dads mum died when he was young (and was a dragon apparantly), his Dad died when I was 5 or 6 and my Dad absolutely worshipped him. Being so young I don't have too many memories of him but I do remember he had a huge garden and loved growing fruit and veg, particularly cooking apples. I remember he had one room completely full of fresh cooking apples all the time. God knows what he did with them.

My maternal Grandparents both died by the time I was about 14 but I have nothing but fond memories of them. They were proper grandparents. My grandad was a good snooker player and they had a cabinet full of his trophies in the lounge. We used to get told off for running through the lounge to the diner because it would make all the trophies shake - plus there was a good chance you'd run straight into the glass door at the end of the room. Since their deaths I've found out many things that happened to my Grandparents when they were young, particularly Grandma and can't believe sometimes how they just got on with it. They were awesome!
I've never had a Grandad. I loved my Nain (Welsh for grandmother) more than any words could express so I'm not even going to try. She died when I was 32; I was inconsolable. I'm 57 now and I stilll miss her terribly. Mamya what lovely memories you have - I have them too. x
Mine died a fair while ago.

My paternal grandfather was very "Victorian" - man made good, town mayor, county councillor, mayor five times, MBE for services, lay preacher, very religious, only book on Sunday being the Bible, biblical toys, chapel twice on Sunday, no alcohol - my grandmother too being full of good works, charities, running the NW WVS, mayor herself three times and still on 5 Council committees at 80 plus. She was probably a tearaway in her youth - first woman to ride a motorbike in the NW, horror of horrors.

My first funeral was that of my grandfather - on, of all days, 01-01-1970, a wet dank day with the funeral, a memorial from the town at the Congressional chapel and then the internment and wake. I remember two policemen saluting him as we passed, outside this chapel.

My mothers side lived much longer - her father successful in his own way, loved matters financial and legal, a bit of a b (didnt allow my mother to go to Uni) but one of these men who mellowed late in life. My grandmother had her mental issues, had been sporty etc but decided to "retire" the day my grandfather did. She went of dementia in a home (probabvly who my mater has inherited it from), things sexual being high on her mind. I have a great memory of her as the last thing I heard her say compis mentis, was on our wedding day, as she was leaving: "I hope that you two have had a good day, and I hope you have a better night."
I never knew my father's parents, his mother died when he was 9 and we never visited his father in the Shetlands who died when I was about 5.
My mum's father was a very quiet small man but her mother, my nan, was absolutely wonderful.
She taught me how to bake (in a fire oven) and virtually brought me up as my mum went out to work. You could talk to her about anything, although I discovered after she'd died that she had told me quite a few porkies............
I'm lucky to have a set of Grand parents alive.

My Dads Mum died when I was 5. I do remember her. She was tiny...4'9...and all her kids adored her. She was easy go lucky and believed kids should be kids. Her death shook my Dads world and he never really recovered. He never let her memory die either.

My Grandad...her husband. I absolutely adored him. He was also very small. I was the peteen and could do no wrong in his eyes. He moved to England in the mid 80's as most of his children were here. Even after my Mum and Dad split up Grandad stayed with us. He got knocked over in 1989 and died 4 weeks later aged 84. The first time I experienced devastation...

My Mums parents are still alive. Grandad was a dictator and a bully. He treated my Nan and his kids very badly. How he didn't quash my Nans enthusiasm for life is beyond me. Saying that...he treated us very well. Today, he's still as grumpy as he's always been but it's funny now.

Nan...what a wonderful woman. She's everything a person should be. Loving, caring, patient, hard working, strong. I've never heard her say a bad word about anyone. Being a publican...she liked to have a drink...and I have really fond memories of sitting upstairs and Nan coming up a bit tipsy and making us dance. I really don't know how she managed to fit everything in because I don't remember her ever being too busy to do stuff we wanted to do.

Seeing her now is a bit upsetting. The dementia hasn't affected her personality though...she's still happy.
im not so long in the tooth but my grandparents where and are my idols, i know you shouldnt idolise someone and my dads dad is still alive (grumpier and more stuck in his ways each and every day!) my nan died in 09. She hung on till she knew granddad would be ok and then slipped away with no fuss and no time for us to get to her-just how she wanted it(she was in hospital, but trees where down due to the rain and snow and we couldnt leave home as my husband was needed).
When we were little there garden held and infinate number of oppourtunities for play and adventure (many broken cut bruised limbs lol) we had a huge old tree to climb a lawn with swings etc on and allotment lawn, where each and every autumn we would have huge bonfires and come home reaking of wood smoke. My nan was a treasure, in her youth she had been evacuated to the coast from london and got up to all sorts of mischief-sewing boys pj legs closed and catching lifts on roller skates on the back of gi trucks. She crawled around maps with maggie thatcher working out which schools to save and which to loose in the lates 60s, the one school she adamant to save is now in the top 30 schools in the country. She had a hysterectomy and the next day self discharged to attend a meeting about the schools, this was not the done thing lol! She used to get speeding tickets in the days before motorways earning her nick name in later life of granny schumaccer. She taught me so many things, how to sew make toys type and cook. Still havnt mastered her roasties yet, they where heaven in a mouthful! i suspect she cooked them under the chicken! She used to make us easter egg hunts each easter. When i was sorting her stuff out when she died, each piece of clothing in her wardrobes smelt of her it was like catching a breath of her each time they moved. If im having a bad day i just go into my bathroom and open her perfume bottle. If you ever come across a bear with the label bears to hug thats hers! She was so crafty, right to the end, my gramps still has her last unfinished project in the living room a new nativity scene for the local church, the faces where all done she was workign on the body and legs when she died. Im crying thinkign of her i loved her so very much, she could be a dragon and a right stubborn moo, but that was the german in her! I dont have enough room here to type my love her. Gramps, well he taught me green fingered things and how to read by making me pick an artical in the daily mail on sunday to read!
My mums parents died before we were born, and i still know very little about them!
my introduction to jelly, custard and ice cream was at the hands of my english grandmother

she poured hot custard onto jelly and ice cream, no wonder i hate the stuff
I remember fondly all my grandparents. Both Grandads died when I was nine, but Dad's Dad used to recite verses about 'the boy stood on the buirning deck' to make me laugh and Mum's Dad could waggle his ears and me and my brother used to have singing contests with him, our favourite being 'Around the World I've Searched for you'. I know if I ever heard that song now it would make me cry. My two grans lived till I was in my 40's. Mum's Mum would give me her last penny and was generous and unselfish in her dealings with her grandchildren and she loved, absolutely loved wrestling on the TV. Dad's Mum loved the snooker and stayed up till all hours watching it on TV.
Wonderful, wonderful people and I love and miss them all.
We never knew anything about my fathers parents, and my maternal grand father was killed in a mining accident in 1936 twelve years before I was born. The only thing I remember about my gran is that she had very long hair and twice a week my two sisters took me to visit gran and I'd sit on her knee while they brushed her hair and afterwards there were always loads of bread, jam and cakes she'd made. She died when I was six.
My maternal grandmother is the only one I really remember, and she died when I was eight. I remember her as wearing her hair in a roll, and always wearing a pin striped suit with a long straight skirt. She was appalled when my pregnant mother bought a magenta maternity outfit, it was drawing attention to herself!
My maternal grandparents were gone before I arrived on the scene. And one of my paternal grandparents too. But I have fond memories of the grandparent I did get to know. Of course than generation now all gone, and most of the following one too.
Oh Mamya!
Pyjamas in the warming cupboard of the blackleaded range catapulted me back in time. Granny Smith used to put the PJs on the top shelf, the bottom shelf was where she put the firewood to make sure it was dry for the next day. I can smell the warm, woody smelling PJs as I type this :-) Feather mattresses, outside loo, belfast sink with cold water only, boil the kettle to have a warm water wash with carbolic soap, precious eggs kept in the large sugar bowl where they wouldn't get broken, the vile smell of a whole dead chicken being plucked and dismbowelled, lavender polish, a virginally pure white front doorstep, just donkeystoned, and don't you dare step on it, 'run to Mrs Chew's shop and get me a fresh cob', 'run to Eva's chipper and get two cod, two sixpennorth of chips and a bottle of Tizer'.
I was running these errands when I was about five years old, how times change
I did my nan's 'messages' every Saturday morning from being about 8 until I was 14.
One of my grandads was in the Great War. He got buried alive and was never the same again. He used to play the violin to me in the evening. God, it was so bad and so boring. I always said how well he was doing! He was a lovely man, all said and done.
My grandmother (his Canadian wife) was a nurse in WW1 - she was awarded a special medal. She tought herself to cook and was an inspiration to me.
My other grandparents doted on my brother, so we were favourites but with the different grandparents.
Well it's difficult to text with arthritis.
The only grandparent I knew was my maternal grandad. He used to poke me with his walking stick and thought that was hilarious. I didn't.
Maternal grandma died when my mum was 14 so never knew her nor my step-grandma. Paternal grandparents lopped off this mortal coil many years before I was even a twinkle. Would have loved to have met them and listened to them. (Got their photos tho)
My paternal Grandparents lived in the country and had 3/4 acre of land for fruit, veg, chickens and ducks. Also a couple of pig sties so a regular supply of pork for themselves and to sell on for a bit of income. Grandad had been a Horseman until the tractors stole his job in the 30s and 40s. He then became a general farm labourer and when I knew him he was a "lengthsman", sweeping the roads and cutting the verges ( with a scythe) and generally maintaining his length of road through the village.
I remember my Dad installing electicity to their cottage in about 1956. He also put an electric light into the chicken hut, about 50 yds down the garden, with a switch inside the back door of the cottage. My Granny was continually amazed that she could flick the switch and the electricity was down at the chicken hut before she could open the back door.
Simple times, simple pleasures.
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Back from my Grandmotherly duties - what great memories from one and all, lovely to read!

Ah being allowed to 'donkeystone' the back step and if very lucky 'Cardinal red ' polish for the front step.

Washday and helping the wring out the sopping wet sheets by twisting and then feeding them through to mangle - great fun in summer, but blue fingers in the winter time. using the carpet beaters on the rugs on the line - dust everywhere. Filling the coal scuttle and once getting locked in the bunker by my brother, all seems such simple pleasures when done at Grandma's house.
We had a coal cellar (posh) in the 60''s and I was routinely told off on a Monday, washday, to keep my fingers away from the mangle. I loved turing the handle tho.

The immerser switch was sky-high in a kitchen cupboard.

Rose-tinted but fond memories.
O my you've brought back memories of donkeystoning the step and the mangle on washdays kept outside in the wash house with the tin bath! I remember hiding on Grandad when he came home from work and he's come in and said thank goodness those flippin' kids aren't here and we'd come charging out from our hiding place and jump all over him, but of course the dear man knew we were there all along. Gosh, happy, happy days.

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