– Updated to add – People, there is fantastic stuff on grandparents down in the comments section.Â Please can I have some more to make it seem that my blog is exciting and interesting. Please.
Still sick as a dog. How can that be? I dragged myself into work yesterday partly because there was a meeting I had to attend and partly because the three kiddies were going to be at home. I was sustained by my colleagues who rushed to the supermarket to buy lemons and honey (imagine) and were deeply sympathetic. Of course their sympathy was only a drop in the ocean of self pity in which I was floating. I take my hat off to full time mothers with no escape like poor Minkleberry.
Have you all seen this unfortunate newscaster from a UK TV station?
I saw a lovely post by another Anne on her grandparents. It made me realise, sadly, I don’t know enough about my grandparents’ relationships. My paternal grandfather died when he was 36 and my maternal grandfather died shortly after I was born. But what Anne says about life for her grandparents was true even for my mother growing up. I have broadband but for years they had no electricity and running water (I gather that this was something of a sore point between my grandparents – he was a bit of a property magnate in an early 20th century Irish small farmer kind of way and he owned a number of properties one of which they had happily lived in for a number of years and which boasted not only a location in town but the twin attractions of, you guessed it, electricity and running water, however, nothing would do him but to go out to the country and run a farm). My mother went to mass in a pony and cart. I know they had a car as well, but I think it must have been later. I know this because my mother told me that she backed it into the pillar of the gate to my grandfather’s lasting chagrin – he is departed but his ire over this incident lives on in my mother’s regretful recollection. They had a constant stream of maids and farm hands working in and around the house. My grandfather used to go to some small distant farm and bring back new maids. Country maids were always best, you couldn’t trust those city girls. It all sounds slightly feudal. Do you know about your grandparents’ youth? Share.