What are your childhood memories of your grandparents' house?

my granddad died today. this thread has unfrozen me. I remember - red lino on the floor, a huge 1950s fridge. orange pop. lying next to him while he had his afternoon nap, reading alice in wonderland and waking him up to ask him words i didn't know. my grandmother's utterly soft skin and smell of talc that always surrounds her.

My nan hammering steak with a meat tenderizer (is that the word?)
Mashed potatoes with 'cream of the milk' mixed in
Sitting on her lap and looking inside her gold locket
The Anglia televison man - a sort of Knight on a horse that came on in between programmes
Her amber coloured glass sweetie jar that always had buttermints in it that I wasn't allowed to eat before dinner.

The fire in the kitchen
Wallpaper with concentric hexagons
A medicine drawer that contained things from the 1800's (my mum and I cleaned it out when they died - the contents were amazing)
The smell of hay mingling with warm fresh peaches from the tree
The clacking of hooves from the stable yard
The locks on the gun cupboard and the ever open back door
Checking the kitchen chair for an egg before sitting down
The pile of half crowns on the mantelpiece for me because uncle Albert left one every Sunday after church
The marks on the hearth from my mother's stilletoes which were tutted over years later because she preened in the mirror above it
Grannie's blue rinse and going to the hairdresser with her
Grandad's big white hankies
Looking through the binoculars (I have them now)
Looking through the green leather opera glasses
A book about a dromederie and warm milk in grannie's bed
Old chairs and sips of whisky
Watching the wrestling on Saturday afternoons
Watching the Golden Shot on Sundays
Grandad coming home after the races and sharing his reheated dinner
Looking at my dd who was given grannie's name and who has the same mild and determined manner, blue eyes and identical build and wondering how one wonderful woman whom I adored was replaced with a wonderful and so similar dd nine months before she died.

So glad this is being moved to classics. I haven't managed to read past the third post yet without welling up and this is my fourth attempt. I am going to have to read it bit by bit.

Sleeping top and tail with my sister with blanket and not a quilt.

Thinking that going to BHS cafe for lunch was really posh, can still smell the butter on my roll.

Going to stay with them in London and going to Trafalgar Square.

My grandad peeling apples and letting me eat the peel.

Always blaming Grandad for the snoring then finding out years later it was my Nan but he always took the blame.

My Nan and her cappachino sachet drinks, she always let me eat the chocolatey froth.

I miss my Nan. She died 9 years ago from Alzheimers

The BEST Yorkshire puddings ever!

Walking round the block playing, step on a crack you break your back. Step on a line you marry a swine! Very unsuitable I know when only 6 or so

All the family sat around the table one Christmas lunch and Nanna suddenly remembering that she had forgotten to serve the carrots!

Lovely summer afternoons in their garden.

Good times. Miss them both so much.

Both grandfathers were smokers so while they were alive there was always the horrible smell of stale smoke hanging in the air. Both of them smoked Players untipped - maternal grandfather (who survived into his late 80s) used to pull his empty packets apart and use them to show us how to draw things, especially how to draw a tree as it grows from a seed, even though he was almost blind. And even though his lines never quite matched up, you could see that they had been done by somebody who could draw, the spirit was perfect. Whereas even if I did exactly the same it just didn't quite have 'it'. Oh and the smell of those old empty packets is the smell of drawing to me.

Aforementioned grandfather had very dicky lungs on basis of all the smoking so he was on oxygen pretty much all the time. He used to sit there with his oxygen mask in one hand and his ciggie in the other alternating between the two . We were always convinced he was going to blow himself up before he died of natural causes - in the end throat cancer got him, the doc said he thought he had a couple of months left and he held on for over 2 years.

His special place was in the greenhouse - he loved growing tomatoes and had a chair at the end where he would sit there smoking and plugged into his oxygen (had a tank out there especially) and ruminate on life to us little grandchildren and if we were good - get to have tomatoes straight off the vine. the smell of the smoke and the warm tomato leaves is now very evocative of him. He would also join in with our games with dolls and teddies when we were little in a way that no other adults would, they would sit there on his chair and he's talk to them just like they were real. No way would he have done that with his own kids though - think he was probably pretty strict then.

his wife - know by all grandchildren and lots of assorted others as gra - got to her late 90s. She was fab, and had a great attitude to life. She learnt to play golf at 50 eventually stopping at about 86, when they gave her an honorary membership to the golf club so she could still go and watch others, hit a ball or two, walk around and play bridge. She also volunteered for meals on wheels and at the local old age peoples club. MoW she had to give up when she got to about 80 as she couldn't lift the meal trays any more, whereas she used to go and help out with the 'old dears' where she was usually to be found doing the washing up as it was nicer being with the younger helpers. She finally stopped doing that when when she moved down to be in a home nearer my mum as she couldn't cope on her own any more; when she was about 92 (and significantly older than most of the old dears in the club!)

My other grandad died when I was about 6 so I don't really remember lots about him. He and my gran lived on the premises of the family business where my dad also worked, we used to be dropped off on a sunday morning to visit her whilst my dad popped over to the office - and then whizzed up to the pub for a couple of hours while Mum cooked sunday lunch.

We also used to have to go over every other sunday for the afternoon, including afternoon tea - aunt, uncle and cousins were also there. It wasn't very interesting as my grandparents liked to watch wrestling (what was it with old ladies and wrestling?) and songs of praise. Tea always involved thin slices of bread and butter triangles, with one row of specials that were flora for my grandad. Always a tin of salmon (made vaguely edible by lots of salad cream), ham, plate of lettuce (with always the same comments about the special lettuce plate that looked like it was made out of china lettuce leaves), tomato quarters, slices of malt loaf and a huge ruddy great fruit dundee cake from Elizabeth the Chef in Banbury. Which was always because it was my favourite - at which point I'd have to point out - again - it was not, I hate fruit cake.

They also had a corgi which was never fed dog food - always meat and two veg and there was always this doggy smell around, combined with everything else. I was never a child that liked animals, unlike my sister, which of course meant that it always made a beeline for me.

button box

checking the pools on a satarday afternoon

pulling carrots in the garden and eating them straightaway

lovely sunday roast cooked on the aga

nastursiums growing in the garden

going to stay for a week in the summer holidays with my best friend

grandad eating tinned fruit with bread and butter

always drinking tea out of china cups and saucers

loud ticking clock on the mantlepiece

soda crystals beside the bath (never had bubble bath)

grandads hernia belt

hanging the washing out with dolly pegs

I don't remember the inside of my only grandparent's house (my scottish grandmother's) very well. What I remember best is the air raid shelter in her back garden. The shelter was made of concrete, and earth had been piled up over it, from which grass grew, so that it looked like an unexpectedly small and unexpectedly steep hill in grandma's little garden - that was, until you spotted the entrance.
You had to go down a couple of steps. All there was inside, as far as I can remember, was a couple of benches facing each other.
My brother, sister and I liked playing in there. Once, in a spirit of unaccustomed bonhomie the three of us all teamed up together to keep 'the enemy' out. The enemy being our slightly younger scottish cousin, brought to our grandma's for the afternoon so she could play nicely with her English cousins. Her name was Heather, and I invented a particularly witty nickname for her, as I saw it - 'Heather the singing feather'.
We were not nice children.

Oh gosh loads, especially my maternal grandparents' house in Aberdeen. I can even remember their blimmin phone number, and my granny died in 1983! My grandad's striped lawn, and regimented rows of lovely raspberries and strawberries, and his roses, and the smell of his shed, where we kept our bucket and spade (we didn't live anywhere near the sea). My granny's walk in larder with home-made jam and packets of lemon puffs. And the tins of Tennants with girls in bikinis on them in the fridge. Rowies for breakfast, and my granny's steak and kidney pie for dinner.
I also remember being fascinated by the mirror on the bathroom, which had one of those extending X arms, iykwim. And by my granny's mangle, which she actually used (I am that old...).
And I remember playing fish shops with my grandad. We used to get up really early to visit the (real) fishmarket at the harbour, and then we'd make paper fish and colour them in, and then sell them to my grandad and my parents with our little cash register.
I also remember clearing out the house when my granny died. My wee cousin was about 5 at the time and when my great aunt (my granny's only surviving sister) arrived, he came running down the stairs shouting 'Granny's dead! Granny's dead!' very gleefully at the top of his voice.

Goodness, so many.

early mornings in nan's bed with a cuppa while grandpop polished his shoes in the kitchen before he left for work in London.

3 course breakfast EVERY day! Loads of Bacon rind on the lawn for the birds.

nan hoovering and tidying before we went out, in case the queen came to tea!

waiting at the train station to pick grandpop up after work and playing boxes with paper and pen while we waited.

Watching Edward woodward in the equalizer while having toasted muffins and hot chocolate.

so many, miss them both so much.

I wonder what our grandchildren will think of us in years time?
whitecloud not older than everyone!
My paternal grandparents - who I rarely saw - were like curiosities to me. They lived in a tiny miners cottage in West Yorkshire, with one room downstairs which had a range and a stone sink, and one room upstairs. Gran's pantry was always full of home baked things which I had never seen before, and grandad grew all his own veg in the garden in front of the tiny house. They had 3 kids, who I think slept on the landing, and a shared ash netty down the lane which was strewn with cinders. My mother, who was a complete snob, really looked down on them - I guess that was why I didn't see much of them - but I thought going to their house was like Narnia.

I remember my Mum complaining that my Gran gave us too many sweets, guess what she does now?!?!?

Grandparent's prerogative.

Helena my DS would probably be thrilled with a box of odds and ends to play with! :)

Sigh...no one is ever in your corner quite like your grandparents, are they? I get so irritated because my mother lets DS get away with murder, but this thread has got me thinking. It's just a granparent's job, isn't it?

Chocolate cake
Sitting under lemon tree for nibbling chocolate cake before it was cooled
Dettol in bath
Grandpa sitting watching tv with Labrador on lap, granny with Siamese cat on hers
Fold out card table
Mince
Thick bread with butter
Hair rollers
Old singer sewing machine
Camellias
Practising handwriting ... Hers was beautful

her house always smelt of baking and cakes.
sitting on her knee while she read me stories.
She always had knitting on the go.
Curling up on the sofa and falling asleep whilst she stroked my hair
The frilly apron she use to wear and her shouting at my grandad to take his filthy boots off .

What a lovely thread!

My Nana's home-made cherry buns.
Royal Scot and currant shortcake biscuits - Grandad's favourites.
The smell of geraniums in the greenhouse.
The earthy smell in the potting shed.
Looking out on Grandad's beautiful garden - red and peach rose trees and loads of other flowers.
Walking to the rec with Grandad to play on the swings and slides.
Getting into bed with Nana and talking for ages.
Singing Gracie Field's "Sally" with Nana and other "Good Old Days" music hall songs.
Oops, I now realise I'm older than most of you. My grandparents have been gone for many years but what precious memories.

Awww......lovely to hear everyone's memories.

Mine, me and my sis being in the front room,a nd playing robbers, taking off all the sofa cushions, playing hide and seek in the pantry, cleaning the bathroom, my grandma's pull down bed, the boiler in the guest room, her jewellery, and perfumes in her bedroom, the garden shed, the cocker spaniel called Kerry, roast dinners, afternoon walks, late nights driving back home on the motorway, rolling up my grandad's tie, grandad's bicycle, ahhh, so many memories.

From my other nan, playing the piano, ginger biscuits and lemonade, watching countdown, singing, breaking the loo roll holder in her bathroom, the freezing outside loo downstairs, brown coloured hall way, her whiskers, her love of cats, her rose arch in the garden, again, so many memories. :( Happy ones, but sad to think about them at the same time.....

I have a trunk full of teacups and linen and brooches and miniatures that belonged to my gran. I really wish I'd taken more as I think a lot of her stuff was just thrown out when she died. I love using it all, we drank pink fizz from her teacups at the royal wedding. Think I'll get some out to use this weekend inspired by this thread.

This is a lovely thread.

The pouffes that we used to fight over to sit on (two of them and three of us) to watch Highway on a Sunday evening.
The sugar spoon with Jesus on the end of it.
The boy clown ornament that played Send in the Clowns and the glasses with ceraminc mice inside and cats climbing up.
A spoonful of sugar in a cup of fizzy pop to 'stop the fizz' and rot our teeth
Hours spent pretending to drive grandads car.
The scary and totally imaginary woodpecker (think Woody rather than little bird) that lived upstairs and scared the bejesus out of me.
Oxtail soup with bits of bread 'fishes' in it.
The lovely boucy soft lawn with flowerbeds full of fuschias.
The small and feel of geranium leaves and tomatoes in the greenhouse.
The rescued hedgehogs that were kept in the house and de-flead in the kitchen sink.
The hordes and hoardes of elecronics in the garage and spare room salavged from skips and brought from junk shops.
The girls comic books nan brought for me every week without fail for years.

They were my maternal GPs and I miss them every day.

My paternal grandad died before I was born but I have wonderful memories of my nan who:
Took me to bingo on Saturday night and brought me coca cola and crisps.
Taught me how to play cards (playing hours and hours of Strip Jack Naked)
Watched only darts, snooker, the football results (for the pools) or countdown and spent almost all day every day knitting squares for blankets.
If we were sick fed us brandy...not Indian Brandee but the proper stuff, warmed with a table spoon of sugar. Not sure my parents ever knew.

She was fab and I miss her too.

Cotton reels in a box of 'toys' which was basically just bits and bobs that we used as toys. What would kids today think!

Thinking the cellar in her back-to-back house was the most exciting place in the world

The cosy, damp warmth of it all

At Big Grandad and Nanny Peggy's house- always a box of Good Weekend (does anyone else remember those) on the shelf of the coffee table; Big Grandad squeaking his hands together for my amusement; a sticker on the bedroom window saying 'Do not open until Christmas'; mad green curtains with violent flower patterns in orange on; a pristine garden (Big Grandad's pride and joy); a particular smell which I can't describe but always says 'old people' to me- sort of musty, not unpleasant; and a memory from when my Nanny had died and Big Grandad was very ill- reins for a show I was in made from red ribbons and silver bells.

At Grandad Jim and Nanny Saucepan's house; sitting room overheated with a gas fire; butterfly fairy cakes; Tuc biscuits; lemonade flattened with a spoonful of sugar (I don't know why!); a Formica dining table in the kitchen; another pristine garden (Grandad Jim's pride and joy); a very steep staircase to the loo.

YYY classics please, this thread is gorgeous.

My Nana as opposed to "Flowers in the Attic grandmother"
Huge mural of mountains and ducks
Roasted chestnuts on gas fire
Secret drawer full of bling!
Royal albert tea service
Tea leaf reading
Wrestling on the telly and nana shouting 'rip his head off'!!!!

She was fab!