When Granny and Grandpa were quite elderly it was apparently decided to sort of pass them round the family...six months with Uncle Alan and his latest flame...away to Uncle Eric and so on until it was Fathers turn.
Mother and Granny loathed each other...Granny brought her dogs you see...small, fat, snappy Jack Russell's who were always called Laddie and were used to drinking tea from a saucer and sharing sweet biscuits...a bite for Granny and a bite for the dog.
I think Mother had the first in a succession of Pekinese...also fat and snappy, but given proper names like Kim and who never drank tea from the saucer or shared a Bourbon biscuit at tea time.
It was an endless tussle, with Mother trying to keep some sort of decorum and Granny...by virtue of her age...determined to do whatever she chose. Poor Grandpa was caught in the middle of course...he was suffering the early stages of dementia and used to pee in the flowerbeds if he was caught short while wandering round the garden...
Granny also brought...along with the three plump dogs...a selection of lacy tablecloths and linen napkins...she expected Mother to use them every day...Mother said no...they took too much effort to launder.
Voices would be raised, ending with Mother in floods of tears and a really foul mood, while Granny went out and picked all Fathers prize Sweet-Peas he had been saving for a show...
Actually, I remember that day so clearly...Reuben, the man who used to help out on the farm, took my brother and me to the nearby woods to see if we could find the Badgers Sett...we already knew where it was and couldn't understand why he was chivvying us away...
We came back when it was almost dark and some sort of truce had been declared.
Granny and Grandpa moved on...much earlier than expected...it was to be the last time I saw Grandpa.
A few years after Grandpa had died, Granny remarried to a chap all of us called Uncle Bert...she was by then in her early eighties...Uncle Bert was about seventy. He was enormous...very short, but he had the biggest belly ever...he wore braces to hold his trousers up and those arm-bands men used to wear to keep their shirt-sleeves up...
He was called, by the few of the family still speaking to us...'A self-made man' and he drove a silver Rolls-Royce...he was a bit of a grumpy sort...never had any time for children. I only met him a couple of times...he took snuff and the hairs in his nose were always brownish. I thought he smelt funny and avoided him.
The last time I saw him and Granny was at a party for my half-brothers silver wedding anniversary...dainty little tit-bits to eat but plenty of drink...my Fathers first wife was there...Mother to my half-brother...she was hilarious...swathed in furs, reeking of horribly expensive perfume...nails a good inch long and painted bright scarlet, she sort of swooped on me and clutched me to her ample bosom...she drank Gin and smoked Cheroots in a long silver holder and I thought her totally wonderful...
Uncle Bert ate platefuls of the artfully arranged smoked salmon on crackers and the pretend caviar on different crackers...
Granny drank glass after glass of Punch and fed the latest Laddie on Prawns...
Not long after the party Uncle Bert died peacefully in his sleep...Granny lived on until she was almost a hundred years old.
Vashti I don't know how you do it. All my very early childhood memories of my Great Grandfather came back to me whilst reading your blog, the smell of the snuff,hairs up the nose. trousers that came up under the arm pit with a belt around the waste, the arm bands were for best when he put his long sleeved shirt on the rest of the time he wore a long sleeved vest. My grandad used to shave him every day i can still see them doing it lots of lather and a big knife (well it seemed big to me as i was about 5) They also had a dog called dog called laddie that used to sit under the table to catch the scraps that were thrown down to him. I still have the very large china cup and saucer that belonged to him I put a plant pot in it now it is very big. Please keep writing down your memories for us they are beautiful. Have you thought any more of a book even just to publishing your posts on here in the form of short stories.
You do have some wonderful relatons vashti, I envy you that. Most of mine were upright with not a scandelous bone in their body. Mind you I had a couple of racy great aunts and uncles...but that's another story. x
in reply to
Oh just remembered my mum had a friend called Kathleen who was very eccentric. You made me remember her as all her dogs were called 'Laddie' as well. The last time i saw her was around 8 years ago at my aunts funeral. She didn't recognise either me or my sister until I told her we were Peggy's daughters and our names. Her face lit up like a beacon when she heard that and she called me her 'little tyke'. She died less than a year later. x
Wow! No such colourful people in my family tree. Oh, I think they were all from the West of Ireland for the last 200 years. Well, according to the records kept for the 100 acre farm they owned since 1780, That is my father's side. My mother, I am not so sure. She was born in County Mayo on a very small farm which she left at 17 for England.
Hilarious story Vashti. such memories. Do you think people of that generation were so strong minded about getting their own way, because of the Wars? They had to be tough to survive. There was also an enormous amount of change, in culture, class and financial circumstances. Also so many loved relatives lost to the Wars.
It must have been so hard for your Mother with a difficult Mother-in-law, and being the second wife. No doubt she had to put up with unfavourable comparisons.
You Mother certainly had a tough time. I had my own tussles with in-laws. They were strict Methodists. My carefree ways must have scandalised them. You should have heard Grandma in law when she saw my mini skirts.
Reminds me of my early childhood Vashti. I was "adopted " by an elderly couple who were old enough to be my Grandparents. My Maternal Grandmother came to live with us at one time and I disliked her immensely. She was a bible basher who appeared to everyone as a sweet little old lady. She dressed in black from head to foot and only took her hat off to go to bed. I had to share a bedroom with her which I hated because I thought she "smelled funny?" Every morning she'd "dress" the large open ulcer that she had on her leg....sitting by the fire with a bowl of hot water etc., I'd watch fascinated, wondering why it never got any better? Years later I realised that's why she "smelled funny?"
She'd had 8 children ..7 girls and 1 boy and all had survived. All the family called the "boy"- Son, and as a child I called him Uncle Son! I still to this day have no idea what his real name was? Every Sunday my Mother and Grandmother went to "church" ( they were Salvationists) twice without fail and the rest of the week Grandmother would read and preach from the bible on a daily basis, especially to me! She'd go on about virtue and how a young lady should act etc., etc.,
Here's the good bit................I found out later that this virtuous, sweet little old lady was never even married to the Father of her children (none of whom were ever registered) and some doubt as to even who he was?!!!!!! Talk about rules for one - and rules for another. It's no wonder I'm a bit loopy, is it? Lol. XX
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