Saturday 9 May 2015

Memory Journal Doodles - My Grandpa

Happy Saturday!

I had a nice little break from posting there - hope you don't mind? I bet you've had ALL sorts of cool busy stuff going on anyway. How's the weather? It's been raining and raining and raining and RAINING here...The Colonel's employed his trained mice in constructing a raft in case of flooding emergency!

I've been a bit busy with more of that 'functional life' stuff - which is proving a challenge, so I'm currently arguing with that twitchy brain imp again. I've appeased it by making more memory journal doo-dahs to share with you so I shall proceed with the ramble, as is becoming tradition on this here blog!

The last waffle I'd had reminded me so much of my Grandparents that I thought I'd add a bit to that and enjoy the memories of two people so special in my life....this time especially my Grandad. He was a carpenter by trade, but he also later worked for the local gas board and then the council, which meant that he actually seemed to know EVERYONE we passed in the street. He was everybody's friend and liked solving problems. I have SO many wonderful memories of him...each one seems to uncover another. I've selected just a few for now.

During World War II, my Gradad was posted secretly to work as a foreman on the Mulberry Harbours. My Grandma was left at home with a baby - my mum. When my Grandad came home he found the street altered - all the iron gates and metal window and door frames had been taken for the munitions factories and the street looked shabby and diminished. Although he would be stationed away several times throughout the war, whenever he was home he set about making replacement  gates, doors and window frames for all the houses in the street, so that by the time the war was over everything was repaired and renewed. Some of those gates and doors are still there today. I picture them standing there - a little family...Grandma, Grandpa, mum and my newly born baby uncle.

Even when he retired, he still made furniture and was forever tinkering with DIY projects. When he was very elderly his 'creations' would lack a little of the finesse that had been his trademark in younger years. In fact, he built a sink unit for my mum in our tiny, TINY bathroom which was fondly - and accurately - named 'The Bismark' as it loomed over everything and was certainly bordering on the indestructable!

When he wasn't tinkering, or growing tomatoes, or making his daily rounds of visits to friends, he'd keep himself occupied by reading cowboy stories, watching sports or movies on tv, and playing fun games with me. He taught me (and my mother would have a hairy fit here) to place bets and gamble! AWESOME! Mum would tell me I'd explode and DIE if I gambled, but my Grandad had greater faith in my ability to not spontaneously combust. We'd play board games and card games and he'd stack up the copper coins from his pocket change and we'd begin. As the years passed, he'd stack up the silver coins as well... When we started, he'd be kind, as people are with children and LET me win. But as I won more and more he'd start to focus and wriggle in his seat. And I'd still win. Why? I marked the cards. Well - I marked the lotto cards, the playing cards were an old deck and I learned to recognise the time-worn notches and scrapes! I'd make out like a bandit so much that he made me open my first bank account to save my winnings in. Heh heh heh. Plus he had a 'tell' when he was losing! ....There's a chance my mum might have been right to worry!

My Grandpa had very painful knees - partly due to arthritis but also something to do with his time away in the war, which he rarely spoke about. When he went on his morning shopping runs he found it more comfortable to wear his house slippers, much to my Grandmother's constant horror! To make it worse, they were lined with his own cardboard insoles, cut from old cereal boxes and he held the slippers secure with enormous elastic bands (I think I inherited my fashion sense from him!) One day when he returned from his shopping trip he was unusually grumpy, complaining that his left slipper felt lumpy. Upon removing said sorry foot garment, it became apparent that the offending lump was - or at least had been - an unsuspecting mouse that had evidently found a place to snooze overnight and been too startled by the appearance of an enormous foot to escape. The poor creature was welded to the underside of my Grandpa's sock, its soul resting in the mousey afterlife! He kept the sock.

On a not-too-dissimilar note, my Grandad had a full and glorious set of dentures - had them since he was quite young. It was the done thing then to have all of one's teeth removed and replaced by glistening 'falsies'....thankfully THAT has not continued! It didn't help that he had eaten sweets for years to assuage the cravings when he gave up smoking...made the job easier for the dentist (I'm picturing the one from The Little Shop Of Horrors as portrayed by the awesome Steve Martin!) He HATED wearing them and evenually, when he was really quite old, he stopped altogether whereupon - with some concerted  effort from himself - they disappeared. When mum and I were clearing the empty house after my Grandparents died we found the teeth in the drawer of Grandpa's bedside cabinet and oh we did laugh! Why? Because the last time they'd been seen, it had been when I had heard a strange clattering eminating from the kitchen one day. Upon investigation, I found the family cat in hockey goal-keeper mode, skidding the offending teeth like a hockey puck across the tiled floor and bouncing them off the skirting boards - and having a grand old time in the process! Genuinely one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life...truly!

My Grandad was my hero. He was the best of men and there's not another who'd measure up. I miss him every day - but somehow the crazy memories of squished foot-mice and cat-powered denture-pucks keep the sadness at bay so that I am free to remember the awesomeness that was my lovely Grandpa.

That's all for today. Anyone tried memory journaling yet? You don't have to draw them - unless you find that easier. These memories are the ones that make things real, personal and unique. Hope you give it a go and have some fun - maybe get the rest of your family involved as well. Sending out some soggy summer hugs to you from me and The Colonel and his team of rescue rodents! See you soon - Shroo :) xxx

15 comments:

  1. I totally enjoyed reading more about your Grandpa you had me smiling and laughing with you at the end. that is a good idea to put personal memories down in a journal-I don't have any one to pass it down to in the end-but I nice way to remember good things

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    1. There is something hugely cathartic about recording small memories...they're what make our lives so real and unique. I also don't have anyone to leave anything to, but I figure that whichever poor bugger has clear all my crap when I snuff it might just have a laugh or take a shine to something and keep it. Mainly I do it because it beings me peace and happiness right now. I reckon we should all try to celebrate the fun things in life as often as possible. Hoping Larry's responding to treatment - and that your allergies are behaving themselves. Sending big hugs from me and the fluffster xxxx

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  2. I enjoyed reading your memories of your Grandpa, such happy memories, and you have such a unique way of telling and drawing them! I've started journaling many times, and will keep on trying I guess, but I'm not persistent, I keep turning to my beads instead!

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    1. Thank you for such a lovely comment :) Journaling is such fun but not always ideal for everyone all the time. There's so much of you within your stunningly beautiful jewellery designs - that's just as precious and certainly as captivating! Hugs and sunshine from Shroo:)xxx

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  3. What a lot of fun tale and doodles you have for us today, you really should put them into a book, I am sure it would be very popular! Have a nice Sunday, hugs, Valerie

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    1. I'm not sure I could convince people to spend money on my random ramblings! Hee hee hee! Thank you for being lovely! Hugs from me xxx

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  4. Love to read about you grandpa and love your fab drawings Rachael!
    Happy Sunday!

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    1. Thank you awesome lady! I'm glad you liked my random ramblings and the tales of squished mice ! Hugs from mexxxxx

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  5. What wonderful stories. I can just picture the cat trying to kill your Grandad's false teeth

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    1. Yeah - it turns out that full sets of dentures are THE perfect cat toy! I've only ever seen a cat go mental like that when The Colonel's brother, Victor, saw me open a tube full of full length peacock feathers. I swear he did a happy wee! xxxx

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  6. Such vivid memories you have! Your story-telling capabilities had me visualizing that poor dead mouse right in front of my eyes (not to mention your perfect doodles, as you call them)!! You have been blessed to have such a closeness with your family to create these memories for you!

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    1. The thing made a very unique noise when it was peeled of the sock! There's not enough wine in the world to drown out that part of the memory!!! ha! Thank you for being lovely about my mad doodles and general ramblings - I am enjoying sharing the stories about my mad and wonderful family! xxx

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  7. Grandpa sounds like a wonderful man. The only grandparent I have lots of good memories of is my Nana, my mums mum. She was lovely, but the others, for one reason or another, didn't play a big part in my childhood, it's good to know you have so many precious, happy memories of grandpa. And my dad was a carpenter, he made .. well every thing from stair cases to chairs, so I can imagine how creative your grandpa was.
    Awwwww poor little mousie :-( but the drawings are great, pure joy :-)

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    1. To this day I can still remember the wonderful smell of the workshop and the wood shavings. I loved being in there - even if I just mostly made wooden swords and ray guns!! As for the mouse, I am betting my spleen that the poor thing felt NOTHING! My Grandad was not a small man. That rodent was up in the mousey happy hunting grounds, kicking cats and eating ambrosia cake in the blink of an eye.... or the landing of a clod-hopping foot! :) xxxx

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  8. I can well imagine you fleecing your Grandad. My Dad used to do the same to my Mum except his trick was an extra set of cards on his lap. And he wondered why none of us would play him in the end ;)

    Oh the mouse sock had me cringing and laughing in equal measure. I love these memories journal pages of yours. I am definitely going to start.

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