I remember sleeping over at my Grandma's house...
Whenever we would make the trip to Calgary, we would sleep over at my Grandma B.'s house. She had a colour TV! She had a remote control! She had cable! We were in television-watching heaven. Whenever we wanted, we could go downstairs to her freezer and get a fudgecicle...she was always stocked up, and never said "No".
This memory centers around where I slept, though, in the basement. She would make up a bed on the couch down there, with the blankets like a hot dog bun, and me the hot dog. I'd pull the blankets over me and stare at the wallpaper. It was covered with cowboy scenes, western stuff...there were teepees, Indians, horses, lassoes. Where does one get this wallpaper? I'd love some wallpaper like that now! Sleeping down there, I often had dreams of gun-fights and sunsets...and I was always the hero, saving someone, usually my little sister, from the dastardly black-hatted cowboy. Yessir, I'd sure like some of that magic wallpaper in my house now.
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I didn't have the luxury of grans and grandads living within reach as I grew up. Mine were all back in England. My mum's folks would visit every 2 years,their son (me uncle) worked for British Airways, they flew for taxes...nice. We saw them often enough. My dad's mum however, only came out a few times...I loved her. I never met my dad's dad. He never forgave my dad for "taking away my grand children"... he never came to Canada. Funny, to be mad enough about not seeing your grandkids, to actually never seeing your grandkids??
Anyway, my ol' gran would have a cup of tea in the evening and ask me to pass her handbag to her.She'd reach in and produce a small bottle of Brandy...at least, I think it was Brandy. As she poured a bit in, she'd always say "thats right love, good for ol' gran..."
One night as I kissed her goodnight, there was something sticking out of her side. She saw me staring and said " Oh love, its one of Gran's ribs come out. Give it a pull, theres a good boy." I didn't know what to do!
Years later, MANY years later, I realized it was gran's "rib" from some antique corset or something...gave me the fear.
That was dad's mum,this is an account of mum's mum.
I'd give her a kiss at night. She was a typical English gran. Round and soft, dressed in flower print dresses, always wearing a cardigan.
One night, she came to tuck me in and give me a kiss,her breath was never sweet and she had a few whiskers (don't laugh now women readers). When she pulled away after kissing me, there was a little string of saliva connecting us...I recall it going for almost a foot before our "bonding tie" broke.
ew!!! at least MY grandma din't leave stuff like that!!!! but, she doesn't have cool cowboy wallpaper. argh!
Hey Paula. Thanks for stopping by.
I remember my Jido's (grandfather's) corner store. I used to sit on his lap as wee lad and drink tea with him while he helped me run the store. He definitely helped my cousins and I develop our sweet tooths in that store. I would practice my arabic while trying to translate the names and types of candy and chocolate I discovered at his dookaneh (little shop). I used that as an excuse to try em all out till I could match them back to one's here in the states.
Cowboys and indians, eh? (If that ain't the most racist thing I've ever heard, you know they're called "Aboriginals", righty? Oh wait, I think it's "first nations", now....except that;s not right either...hmm...how can we politically correct here?....just jokin you) I was never a cowboy before, always saved the lives of my family as a ninja or some such....sometimes with bow and arrow in true medeval style. Paula, I love reading these blogs because all your life experiences make so much sense in the long run of looking at you and seeing you now. I can connect the dots of Paula then to Paula now....
As for my grandparents....that's a blog all by itself. Check it out.
they might have it here???
http://search.ebay.com/Wallpaper-Cowboy_W0QQfkrZ1QQfnuZ1QQxpufuZx
Oooh!! Some of those are close, p.h.! Thanks for the link...
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